JК
Desperation :: Кинг Стивен
Страница: 413 из 422“If you gooff the road we’ll go all the way to the bottom!
SLOW DOWN, YOU ASSHOLE!”
“No,” he repeated, not bothering to add that going off this road, which was as wide as a California freeway, was the least of his worries. He could see the pit-rim ahead. The sky above it was now a dark, brightening violet instead of black.
He looked past the others and into the mirror outside the passenger window, searching for the dark mouth of the tunnel in the darker well of the China Pit, can tak in can tah, and then didn’t have to bother. A square of white light too brilliant to look at suddenly lit up the pit-floor. It lashed out of the China Shaft like a burning fist and filled the cab of the truck with savage brilliance.
“Jesus, what’s that.” Mary screamed, throwing a hand up to shield her eyes.
“The boss,” Steve said softly.
Aheavy thud seemed to run directly beneath them, a muffled battering-ram of sound. The truck began to shiver like a frightened dog. Steve heard broken rock and gravel begin to slide. He looked out his window and saw, in the dying glare of the blast, black nets of PVC pipe-emitters and distribution heads-sliding down the pit-face. The porphyry was in motion. China Pit was falling in on itself.
“Oh my God, we’re gonna be buried alive,” Cynthia moaned.
“Well, let’s see,” Steve said. “Hang on.”
He jammed the gas-pedal to the floor-it didn’t have far to go, either-and the truck’s engine responded with an angry scream. Almost there, honey, he thought at it.
Almost there, come on, work with me, beautiful, be there for me—That battering-ram rumble went on and on beneath them, seeming at one moment to fade, then coming back like a wave-form. As they reached the rim of the pit, Steve saw a boulder the size of a gas station go bouncing down the slope on their right. And, more ominous than the rumble from below them, he heard a growing whisper from directly beneath them. It was, Steve knew, the gravel surface of the road. The truck was northbound; the road was headed south. In only a few moments it would collapse down into the pit like a dropped carpet-runner.
“Run, you bitch!” he screamed, pounding on the wheel with his left fist. “Run for me!
Now! Now!”
The Ryder truck surged over the rim of the pit like a clumsy yellownosed dinosaur. For a moment the issue was still in doubt, as the crumbled earth under the rear wheels ran out and the truck wallowed first sideways and then backward.
“Go!” Cynthia screamed. She sat forward, clutching the dashboard.
SLOW DOWN, YOU ASSHOLE!”
“No,” he repeated, not bothering to add that going off this road, which was as wide as a California freeway, was the least of his worries. He could see the pit-rim ahead. The sky above it was now a dark, brightening violet instead of black.
He looked past the others and into the mirror outside the passenger window, searching for the dark mouth of the tunnel in the darker well of the China Pit, can tak in can tah, and then didn’t have to bother. A square of white light too brilliant to look at suddenly lit up the pit-floor. It lashed out of the China Shaft like a burning fist and filled the cab of the truck with savage brilliance.
“Jesus, what’s that.” Mary screamed, throwing a hand up to shield her eyes.
“The boss,” Steve said softly.
Aheavy thud seemed to run directly beneath them, a muffled battering-ram of sound. The truck began to shiver like a frightened dog. Steve heard broken rock and gravel begin to slide. He looked out his window and saw, in the dying glare of the blast, black nets of PVC pipe-emitters and distribution heads-sliding down the pit-face. The porphyry was in motion. China Pit was falling in on itself.
“Oh my God, we’re gonna be buried alive,” Cynthia moaned.
“Well, let’s see,” Steve said. “Hang on.”
He jammed the gas-pedal to the floor-it didn’t have far to go, either-and the truck’s engine responded with an angry scream. Almost there, honey, he thought at it.
Almost there, come on, work with me, beautiful, be there for me—That battering-ram rumble went on and on beneath them, seeming at one moment to fade, then coming back like a wave-form. As they reached the rim of the pit, Steve saw a boulder the size of a gas station go bouncing down the slope on their right. And, more ominous than the rumble from below them, he heard a growing whisper from directly beneath them. It was, Steve knew, the gravel surface of the road. The truck was northbound; the road was headed south. In only a few moments it would collapse down into the pit like a dropped carpet-runner.
“Run, you bitch!” he screamed, pounding on the wheel with his left fist. “Run for me!
Now! Now!”
The Ryder truck surged over the rim of the pit like a clumsy yellownosed dinosaur. For a moment the issue was still in doubt, as the crumbled earth under the rear wheels ran out and the truck wallowed first sideways and then backward.
“Go!” Cynthia screamed. She sat forward, clutching the dashboard.