Plutonium #18 30 июня 2001

Самиздат

Fiction - Ground terror rushing to the north (Stephen King).

                      Stephen King (c) 2000


                 Ground terror rushing to the north


                            Part I.


     Fat woman, season on sale, named Judy Dyment.
She lived in a nearby house. Kinnell When asked whether she knew
accident, who wrote the picture, she said that she knows. Her
Bobby Hastings wrote, and because of this she is now Bobby 
Hastings here and sat. Sell ​​things that once belonged to him. 
- His only picture that he was not burned, - said Judy. -

Poor dear Iris! That's who I really am sorry. A
George, I think, anyway. And I know for sure that he did not
understood why Iris has decided to sell the house. She rolled 
her eyes, portraying a classic look, appealing to his 
companion: that Just imagine that. Kinnell handed her the 
check, and Judy handed him a notebook, which she carefully 
wrote down all the things that she was able to sell, and sums 
it for them received. - Please write something for Michele -

she asked, once again broke into a sugary-sweet, silly
smile. - Oh, please. That smile was for both Kinnell
an old friend who has suddenly reappeared in your life, even 
though you is secretly hoping that he was dead. - Yeah, Yeah, - 
absent he replied and quickly depicted in the notebook its 
standard appeal to fans of "thank you readers for your 
attention." He have not followed his own hand. Not even thought 
about that writing. He twenty-five years of signing autographs, 
the process was brought to the fully automatic. - Tell me about 
this picture. And about Hastings, too. Judy Dyment folded his 
plump hands with of a man who is ready to recite a grateful 
audience my favorite story. - Bobby was only twenty-three years,

this spring when he committed suicide. Can you imagine?
He was one of those young people who are called the tormented 
genius. But while living at home with their parents. - She 
rolled her eyes again, appealing to Kennelly. Like, you just 
think, and is also is in the world. - He was such films 
seventy, if not All eighty. Not counting the sketches. He kept 
them in the basement, the themselves. - Judy pointed look at 
the cottage, and then stared at picture of a guy 
sinister-looking, dashing across the bridge Tobin Bridge at 
sunset. - Iris .., is the mother of Bobby .., she said that 
almost all of his creations were simply awful. Even worse than 
that. She said that from his paintings in her hair stand on 
end. - Judy lowered her voice to a whisper, glancing at the 
woman who considered a piecemeal collection of silverware and a 
very good collection of old plastic cups of

"McDonald's" with clips from the movie "Honey, I Shrunk the 
Kids." - She said that there were all sorts of sex scenes. - 
Oh, no - Kinnell said. - And the most terrible things he was 
writing when addicted to drugs - continues Judy Dyment. - When

he killed himself .., he hanged himself in his basement, where 
usually painted .. there found more than a hundred of these 
small puzyrechkov that sell cocaine. No drugs - it

awful! True, Mr. Kinnell? - Awful. - In general, I think, in
some point it just got to a point. And I decided this point
put to no further suffering. Gathered all his sketches and
pictures .. but that's out of this, as it turned out .., dumped 
in the back yard and burned. And then hanged himself in his 
basement. By the shirt he pinned a note: "I can not bear what 
was happening to me." What a horror, yes, Mr. Kinnell? -Is is 
something worse? - No, it does not happen, - said Kinnell. And 
he said it sincerely. - As I said, George would have stayed to 
live in this home, if able to have his own - continues Judy

Dyment. She tore a sheet from a notebook with an autograph for 
Michele put it next to the check Kinnell and shook his

head, as if wondering how is it possible that the signature on 
the both sheets are identical. - But men are not like women.

- Really? - Sure. Not as sensitive and vulnerable. Under
the end of Bobby Hastings were only skin and bones. He did not 
even washed. Dirty was .. from him, you know, it smelled .., in 
the same T-shirt all the time went. In the black of such a 
photograph "Ice Zeppelin. "His eyes were red. On the cheeks - 
the bristles, which and the beard is not called. And all 
zapryschavil. All the person has been in acne as a teenager. 
But Iris loved him. Still loved. The mother will always love 
her child, in whatever he evolved. A woman who looked at the 
silverware and cups from McDonald's, still chose something for 
yourself - podstavochki under the cups with clips from "Star 
Wars" - and went to the table to pay off. Mrs. Dyment took her 
five dollars, carefully recorded in his notebook: "SET KITCHEN

Stands. Sparse. TOTAL - 12 ", then again turned to
Kinnell. - They moved to Arizona - she went on. - At Iris
relatives there, in Flagstaff. I know that George immediately 
began look for work at .. he draftsman-designer .., just do not

I know have already found something or not. But if found, I 
think, in Rosewood, they will not return. She asked me to sell 
some thing .., it - it's Iris .. and she said that I could take 
him twenty percent for the trouble. And her money to send her a 
check. Only, I fear, a little bit of money out. - Mrs. Dyment

sigh. - The picture is absolutely amazing, - said Kinnell. -
Yes. Sorry that he had them burned, all his other work. So would
though there was something interesting. And then most of all 
things, I then try to sell - the usual stuff home, only

ejection and fit. And what's this? Kinnell turned the picture. 
On back of the frame was glued some piece of paper. -

Perhaps the title. - And what does it say? Kinnell raised
now, so Judy was very convenient to read the inscription.
It so happens that the picture was just at the level of its
eye, and Kinnell used the occasion to once again its
to consider. And again, it captures the poignant sense of
something beyond, a prisoner in that, in general,
unassuming watercolors: a young boy behind the wheel of a 
powerful sports car, a child with a sinister smile and 
sophisticated and disgusting sharpened teeth. But it is very 
suitable name - he thought. - Better and not think, no matter 
how try. - "Road Horror rushing to the north" - Judy read aloud.

- And I did and did not notice this thing when my boys were 
carrying things. This title, huh? - Probably. Kinnell could not 
tear view from the smile blonde boy in the picture. I have 
something I know - does this smile. - I know something that you

never know. - Yes, indeed, immediately believed that
the guy who put all of these, obviously pribaldel of drugs -
Judy said with chagrin. Kinnell said that the disappointment
was sincere. - It's no wonder that he had committed suicide and
broke my mother's heart. - Incidentally, I also going to the 
north - said Kinnell, pushing the picture under his arm. - 
Thank you for ... - Mr Kinnell? - Yes? - Could I see your 
driver's ID? - It's been said quite seriously. Security

any taunts or even for fun. - I should write the number
on your checks. That's right. Kinnell put a picture on the 
ground and reached for my wallet. - Please. No problem. A woman 
who podstavochki bought under the glasses with footage from 
"Star Wars", is already was headed to his car, but was delayed 
to TV on the lawn - staring at a soap opera. When

Kinnell passed, the woman glanced at the picture in his
hands. - Wow, - she said. - And because someone bought it
deformity. Nightmarish thing. I do it every time I remember 
when the light stub, and I just shudder sneaks. - Yes? And what 
is it really such a creepy? - Asked Kinnell. *** Auntie 
Kinnell, Aunt Trudy lived in Wales, about six miles north of 
the border states Maine and New Hampshire. Kinnell pulled off 
the highway onto the road, which skirted the city water tower 
(the same poison-green color with a fun sign-called bold 
letters feet tall Four: "SAVE GREEN MEN. Give me the money"), 
and after Five minutes taxied to the driveway to the accuracy

Auntie's little cottage. On the lawn, of course, was not
included no TV, erected by over garbage
baskets - just flower beds, a real passion for Aunt Trudie.
Kinnell has long wanted to cast, but he did not
stop on the road. Why stop at wayside
diner, if you can call on my aunt and there from the comfort to 
go the toilet, and at the same time to hear fresh family 
gossip? Aunt Trudie was always aware of everything that happens 
in the family, and knew that where and who. And, of course, he 
could not wait to show her his new purchase - the picture. Aunt 
came to meet him, hugged and obklevala all-face with his brand 
quick kiss, who steadfastly associated with Kinnell with 
something from avian and which his childhood has always 
shaking. - Now I tell you something show - said Kinnell. - So 
you drag you out of stockings its jump out. - Interesting idea 
- cheered Aunt Trudie with a smile and stared at his nephew, 
clasping his elbows with his hands. Kinnell pulled from the 
trunk of the picture. Aunt really dragged, but not as expected 
Kinnell. Suddenly she was scared pale. Kinnell in my life seen 
so people here paled so - as if all the paint came off at once 
from his face. - A terrible thing bad - spanned said her aunt, 
and it was obvious that she trying hard to avoid a shaky voice. 
- I do not like. I guess I understand why it attracted you, 
Richie. Only you something play in their nightmares, but here 
it all now. Turn her better back in the trunk, make a nice 
aunt. And when you are drive through Saco, I strongly advise 
you: stop on the bridge and throw it into a river. Kinnell was 
stunned staring at her aunt. He never never seen her like this. 
Aunt Trudie tightly clenched lips, trying to appease tremor. 
And she has not behaved in the elbow - no, it literally 
clutched his hands in his elbows, as if trying to restrain 
himself, not to break up and not run away. She all of a sudden

aged and sixty women from the firm became a
ninety decrepit old woman. Kinnell could not understand what
occurs. - Aunt? - He said gently, beginning
worry. - Something wrong? - That's not true. - She tore
the right hand of the left elbow and jabbed his finger into the 
picture. - Surprisingly, even that you yourself do not feel 
anything - if your a imagination. No, something Kinnell felt.

Definitely felt. Otherwise would not have put off for now
forty-five dollars. But Aunt Trudi felt something else ..
or something beyond what he felt himself. Kinnell turned
picture to yourself (before that he held her so that her aunt 
was easier to watch) and had another look at it. And saw 
something on the What caught his breath, as from being hit in 
the stomach. Inside everything was broken. Picture changed. Not 
much, but still changed. Smiling blond guy stretched wider

cannibalistic sharpened teeth became visible even better. Now he
squinted harder, and this view had become even more
sophisticated and more malicious. Subtle change in her smile ..
lips, stretched a little wider, so that the sharp teeth are 
visible even more .. other squint .. .. another view, the 
features that are very depend on the subjective perception. 
Such things do not remember in accuracy, there is always a 
chance that you're simply mistaken. Topics more than that 
Kinnell is not particularly something and looking into the 
picture, when she bought it. And Mrs. Dyment it completely 
uboltala. It was definitely one of those excessively outgoing 
women who are so you speak, then what in the head it will still 
be itchy. But there was one thing that was impossible to put 
down to magic tricks memory and subjective perception. While 
the picture was in the trunk, the young man moved his left hand 
- which he initially held over the door - and now could see 
Kinnell tattoo, which was not seen before. The bloody

dagger, braided grape leaves. And under it - the inscription.
Kinnell make out only two words: "Better death." But it is not
to be a popular writer - author of many
best-sellers to figure out what is written on. At the end of
all, "Better death than dishonor - this is just the thing
which possessed road wanderers, yielding only
disaster such as this guy with a cannibalistic grin, usually
tattooed on his arm. And on the other hand - the ace of spades 
or flower pot, Kinnell thought. - You it is not

Like her aunt? - He asked. - It is not like that. And then 
Kinnell noticed another curious thing. Aunt Trudy, it turns out

turned away, and now pretends to enthuse about
street (although the street did not have anything interesting: 
Normal carotid and deserted street, razmorennaya hot afternoon 
sun), if only inadvertently not look at the picture. -

Disgusting picture. Come thou that thou hast gathered it and go 
into the house. Seems to me, you've got somewhere to go.



                             *

                                              to be continued 
...