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Circus of the Damned :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 107 из 210"
His eyes flicked to me, then back to the road. "You better be right," he whispered.
I believed Ruebens would move. Honest. But even if he wasn't bluffing, the only way out was either past him or through him. It was Ruebens's choice.
The headlights bathed him in glaring white light. His small, dark features glared at us. He wasn't moving.
"He isn't moving," Larry said.
"He'll move," I said.
"Shit," Larry said. I couldn't have agreed more.
The headlights roared up onto Jeremy Ruebens, and he threw himself to one side. There was the sound of brushing cloth as his coat slid along the car's side. Close, damn close.
Larry picked up speed and swung us around the last corner and into the last straight stretch. We spilled out onto the highway in a shower of gravel and spinning tires. But we were out of the cemetery. We'd made it. Thank you, God.
Larry's hands were white on the steering wheel. "You can ease down now," I said. "We're safe."
He swallowed hard enough for me to hear it, then nodded. The car started gradually approaching the speed limit. His face was beaded with sweat that had nothing to do with the cool October evening.
"You all right?"
"I don't know." His voice sounded sort of hollow. Shock.
"You did good back there."
"I thought I was going to run over him. I thought I was going to kill him with the car."
"He thought so, too, or he wouldn't have moved," I said.
He looked at me. "What if he hadn't moved?"
"He did move."
"But what if he hadn't?"
"Then we would have gone over him, and we'd still be on the highway, safe."
"You would have let me run him down, wouldn't you?"
"Survival is the name of the game, Larry. If you can't deal with that, find another business to be in."
"Animators don't get shot at."
"Those were members of Humans First, a right-wing fanatic group that hates anything to do with the supernatural." So I was leaving out about the personal visit from Jeremy Ruebens. What the kid didn't know might not hurt him.
I stared at his pale face. He looked hollow-eyed. He'd met the dragon, a little dragon as dragons go, but once you've seen violence, you're never the same again. The first time you have to decide, live or die, us or them, it changes you forever. No going back. I stared at Larry's shocked face and wished it could have been different. I wished I could have kept him shining, new, and hopeful. But as my Grandmother Blake used to say, "If wishes were horses, we'd all ride.
His eyes flicked to me, then back to the road. "You better be right," he whispered.
I believed Ruebens would move. Honest. But even if he wasn't bluffing, the only way out was either past him or through him. It was Ruebens's choice.
The headlights bathed him in glaring white light. His small, dark features glared at us. He wasn't moving.
"He isn't moving," Larry said.
"He'll move," I said.
"Shit," Larry said. I couldn't have agreed more.
The headlights roared up onto Jeremy Ruebens, and he threw himself to one side. There was the sound of brushing cloth as his coat slid along the car's side. Close, damn close.
Larry picked up speed and swung us around the last corner and into the last straight stretch. We spilled out onto the highway in a shower of gravel and spinning tires. But we were out of the cemetery. We'd made it. Thank you, God.
Larry's hands were white on the steering wheel. "You can ease down now," I said. "We're safe."
He swallowed hard enough for me to hear it, then nodded. The car started gradually approaching the speed limit. His face was beaded with sweat that had nothing to do with the cool October evening.
"You all right?"
"I don't know." His voice sounded sort of hollow. Shock.
"You did good back there."
"I thought I was going to run over him. I thought I was going to kill him with the car."
"He thought so, too, or he wouldn't have moved," I said.
He looked at me. "What if he hadn't moved?"
"He did move."
"But what if he hadn't?"
"Then we would have gone over him, and we'd still be on the highway, safe."
"You would have let me run him down, wouldn't you?"
"Survival is the name of the game, Larry. If you can't deal with that, find another business to be in."
"Animators don't get shot at."
"Those were members of Humans First, a right-wing fanatic group that hates anything to do with the supernatural." So I was leaving out about the personal visit from Jeremy Ruebens. What the kid didn't know might not hurt him.
I stared at his pale face. He looked hollow-eyed. He'd met the dragon, a little dragon as dragons go, but once you've seen violence, you're never the same again. The first time you have to decide, live or die, us or them, it changes you forever. No going back. I stared at Larry's shocked face and wished it could have been different. I wished I could have kept him shining, new, and hopeful. But as my Grandmother Blake used to say, "If wishes were horses, we'd all ride.