Energy #06 17 июня 1997

HORROR - The Story S. King "Corn children."

                 HORROR



     Continued story by Stephen King

            "CORN CHILDREN"



     With beating heart he ran to
car, pulled the key from the trunk,
quickly climbed into the front seat.

     Vicki cried. Bert and pressed the clutch and
a minute later the ill-fated place hidden from the
mind.

     - What do you say, the nearest town? - He asked.

     - Now, - she bent over the atlas. - Gatlin. We will be 
there minutes later ten.


     - Large? The police station there,
interesting will happen?

     - Small. Just a point on the map.

     - At least constable.

     For a while they rode in silence. Left
flashed across silos. And so - Broken
corn. If only a farmer's truck.

     - Look, we caught someone
forward, after we turned off the
freeway?

     Vicki thought.

     - One car and a tractor. At the roundabout, remember?

     - No, but later? When we went to
seventeenth highway?

     - None.

     Half an hour ago he would have regarded this as
a sharp rebuke, but in this case
was merely a statement of fact. Wiki
looking through a window at the monotonous poluopuschennoe 
Departuring intermittent road markup.


     - Vicky? You do not open that suitcase?

     - Do you think ...

     - I do not know. Anything can happen.

     While Vicky was busy with nodes (lip
pursed, his face detached - this he remembered his mother, when 
she was on Sundays disemboweled chicken), he included 
priemnichek. 

   The wave of pop music, they listened to
earlier, almost completely gone. Bert shook his
handle. Farmers' bulletins. Buck Owens and Tammy Uaynett. 
Voices mingled in almost discernible background. Suddenly out 
of the speakers broke a single word so loudly and distinctly, 
as if to say sitting in the the receiver itself.


     - REDEMPTION! - Cried a voice.

     Bert chuckled in amazement. Vicki jumped.

     - ONLY blood of the Lamb will save us! -
boomed a voice.

     Bert quickly drowned out the sound. Station
apparently very close, so close
that ... Yes here it is: sticking out from the undergrowth
radio tower red nasekomoobraznaya tripod.

     - Atonement - that's the way to salvation,
Brothers and sisters - the voice has become more trusting. In 
the distance a chorus sounded "Amen." - Some believe that they 
can walking paths earth and not stain themselves

worldly sins. But does this teach us
God's word?

     In response chorus of:

     - No!

     - Lord Almighty! - Once again raised
voice of the preacher, and then words fell
rhythmically, powerfully, as a concert
Rock 'n' roll: - Would they understand that these
ways - death? Would they understand that for all
have to pay? Who is responsible? I can not hear?
Lord said that in his house are many rooms, but there is no 
room in it for the adulterer. And for those who hunger. And for 
the Defiler corn. And muzhelova. And ... 

     Vicki cut down the radio.

     - I'm sick of this nonsense.

     - What is it? - Asked Bert. - What is corn?

     - I did not notice - she said, fiddling with is the second 
node. 

     - He said something about the corn. I do not
misheard.

   - Yes! - Vickie threw the suitcase lid, lying in her lap. 
They passed a sign: Gatlin. 5 miles. CAUTION - CHILDREN. The 
sign was riddled with bullets from the gun 22-caliber. 

     - Socks - start list Vicky. -
Two pairs of pants ... Shirt ... belt ...
tie with bobby pins ... - She showed him
miniature portrait with peeling gold
enamel. - Who is it?

     Burt threw a cursory glance.

     - It seems, Hopalong Cassidy.

     - Oh. - She put a hairpin, and again
cried.

     Bert waited a bit and then asked:

     - You do not be surprised in this radiopropovedi?

     - And that I should have been surprised? I
childhood had heard these sermons on the whole
rest of their lives. I told you.

     - His voice is too young, huh?
In the preacher.

     She snorted.

     - A teenager, so what? That's just it
most disgusting. Of them begin to sculpt what they want, as 
long as they are susceptible clay. Know what they take. You 
should have seen These field altar, to which I dragged the 
parents ... think, why I "saved"? I even remember many. Baby 
Hortense, with an angelic voice. Eight years. Stepped forward 
and began: "Hand Eternal support ...", and her dad

blew a plate in a circle, saying: "Do not
stingy, do not let the gap dityati innocent. "And then there 
was Norman Staunton. This was frightening fire and brimstone - 
so small, Lord Fauntleroy in the suit with short pants. Yes, 
yes - she nodded, meeting his incredulous look - and if

only these two ... How many such wheels
on our roads! It was a good omen, -
like spit it in their hearts. - Ruby
Stempnell, decennial vrachevatelnitsa
word of God. Sister Grace - these
over the tops shining halos of foil. - About
Lord!

   - What is it? - He glanced to the right. Vicky picked up 
from the bottom of an object and intensely scrutinized him. 
Bert pressed to the curb to get a better look. Wiki

silently handed him the subject.

     It was a crucifix, made of twisted leaves of corn, and 
green, but dried. Arm served as a short rod young ear, 
connected to leaves with brown fibrils

panicles. Most of the grains were carefully
removed, probably with a penknife. From
posted turned rough yellow
bas crucified human figure. On
grains, representing eye - Cuts ... something like a pupil. 
Above the figure of four letters: I.N.TS.I. 

     - The great work, - he said.

     - What is an abomination, - she said dully. - Throw it out 
the window. 

     - This thing might be interested in
police.

     - Why?

     - Do not know yet, but ...

     - Throw, I beg you. Only this
We are not lacking.

     - Let him lie down behind. Give up the first police 
officer, I promise you. Going? 

     - Come on! - It exploded. -
You still do things your own way!

     He shivered and threw the crucifix on
back seat, where it fell on top of pile
things. Eye-grains were staring at
illumination. Machine again rushed forward,
from under the wheels flew off gravel.

     - Surrender the body and the contents of the suitcase
local police, and we are clean - a conciliatory tone he said.

     Vicky did not answer, pretending that
looks at his hands.

     They drove a mile, and the vast field
Corn retreated from the road, freeing up
place homes and commercial buildings. In
one of the courtyards groomed kovylis chickens in the ground 
like a man possessed. Above sheds sailed faded signs Coca-Cola 
and chewing tobacco. Glimpse of a billboard with the 
inscription: Our salvation in Jesus. We passed a cafe with a 
gas station and parking for machines. Bert decided that they 
would stop at the main square, if any, and

No - go back to this cafe. He did not immediately said to 
myself that the parking lot is not were no cars, except for an 
old dirty truck with deflated tires. 

     For no apparent reason Vicky piercing
giggled, and Bert thought occurred: too
not hysteria it?

     - What's so funny?

     - Pointers. - She has run. -
Do not you see? The atlas, this segment
the road is called the Bible scroll. They
no joke. Here, again! .. - She managed to quell a new attack of 
nervous laughter, covering mouth with his hands.


     Pointers hung on long bleached
poles, dug along the roadside every
twenty-five meters, the next pointer
add the word to the previous one. Bert read:

     CLOUD ... Happy ... POST ... FIRE ...
NIGHT.

     - One is missing - burst out Vicky
can not hold back any longer.

     - What is it? - Bert frowned.

     - Clarification: advertising intimate aftershave - she 
gagged with his fist, but the laughter seeped between fingers.


     - Vicki, how are you, okay?

     - Yes, I'll be all right when
we will be a thousand miles from here in sunny California, 
sinful, separated from Nebraska Rockies.


     Flashed a new chain of characters
they both read silently.

     TAKE ... IT ... I. .. EAT ... Said ... THE LORD.

   Strange, thought Bert, I immediately
linked it with corn. The formula seems to be a priest 
pronounced during Communion? It was not so long ago in church,

that doubted. It would not be surprised to learn that in these 
parts corn tortillas have been proposed as wafers. He was going 
to say about this wiki, but changed his mind. 

     A small rise, and above their eyes
Gatlin has opened - three quarters of the carotid
some old movie about the Great
Depression.

     - There must be a constable, - "Bert said, secretly 
wondering why when the form of a provincial, razmorennogo

sunshine town caught his throat
of misgiving.

     A road sign warns them that
must slow down to thirty. Rusty sign proclaimed: THROUGHOUT 
Nebraska YOU WILL NOT FIND SUCH TOWN, AS Gatlin ... And not 
just in Nebraska! PEOPLE 5431.


     On both sides of the road stretched
dusty elm trees, many dried. Passed
wood storage and filling station with
seventy-sixth gasoline: NORMAL. for 35.9,
Cleared. of 38.9. And another thing: The truck driver,
DIESEL FUEL ON THE OTHER SIDE.

     They crossed the Avenue of elms, then birch alley and 
found themselves on the city area. Homes here were wooden 
porches with canopies - prim, austere. Groomed lawn. Somewhere 
climbed mongrel, and looked in their direction, sprawling in 
the street. 

     - Stop - demanded Wiki. -
Stop it, you hear!

     Bert obediently pressed to the pavement.

     - Turn back. The boy can take on Grand Island. Not so far.
Let's go!

     - Vicki, what happened?

   - You ask me what happened?
- "Her voice rang out. - In this town there is no
no soul, only you and me. Surely you have not yet
feel?

     - Yes, something he felt
but, on the other hand ...

     - It seems so - he replied. -
Although, frankly, life here does not strike
key. Maybe all on sale of confectionery products or sit on 
their burrows, play bingo ...


     - No, no there are no people! - In
voice appeared strain. - You're fueling
seen?

     - Near the timber store? So what? - He
thought about my listening to the cicadas in the crown of an 
elm. In his nostrils was beaten smells of corn, wild rose

and, of course, manure. He would be happy -
a no, and the town - but something about it
confused, despite the fact that everything seems to fit the 
usual scope. Surely somewhere nearby there is a shop where sell 
soda, and a modest cinema under the name "Ruby" and the 
school's John Fitzgerald Kennedy.


     - Bert, there were the prices: 35.9
dollars - regular gasoline, 38.9 dollars -
purified. You remember the last time
paid at such prices?

     - Four years ago, if not more,
- He confessed. - But ...

     - We are centrally located - and though a
machine! If only one!

     - From here to Grand Island, seventy
miles. Why on earth would I do this
hook ...

     - Done.

     - Listen, now, find the courthouse
and ...

     - No!

     Well all gone-gone. Here's a short answer to why our 
marriage falls apart: "No. No way. Bones lie, but will

in my opinion. "

   - Vicki ...

     - I do not want to be here any
minutes.

     - Vicki, listen ...

     - Turn around and drove off.

     - Vicky, can you shut up?

     - On the way back. Now turn around and drove off.

     - We have in the trunk is dead! - He growled. She even 
jumped up, and it gave him pleasure. He continued to have a 
calmer tone: - The boy cut his throat and pushed him onto the 
road, and I it has moved. We must declare to the court ... where

whatever. You can not wait to go back on the highway? Go on 
foot, then I'll pick up. Just do not whip me for seventy miles 
from looking as though we have in the trunk lying sack of 
garbage. We must declare before than the killer will have time 
to cross through these hills.


     - Beast - she began to cry again. -
Why am I only went with you?

     - I do not know - he said. - I know one thing: you can 
still improve. 

     The machine moved. Dog for a moment he raised his head and 
again put it on paws.