On an entirely normal, beautiful fall day in Chester’s Mill, Maine, the town is inexplicably and suddenly sealed off from the rest of the world by an invisible force field.
Авторы: King Stephen Edwin
and he was Christing quick for a big man with a bad heart. Carter fired, and in the muzzle-flash he saw a bullet-hole appear in the dented sofa cushion. Big Jim was no longer kneeling in front of it, but he couldn’t have gone far, no matter how quick he was. As Carter thumbed the button of the flashlight, Big Jim drove forward with the butcher knife he had filched from the drawer next to the fallout shelter’s stove, and six inches of steel slid into Carter Thibodeau’s stomach.
He screamed in agony and fired again. Big Jim felt the bullet buzz close by his ear, but he didn’t pull back. He also had a survival-watchman, one that had served him extremely well over the years, and it was saying now that if he drew back he would die. He staggered to his feet, pulling the knife upward as he rose, eviscerating the stupid boy who had thought he could get the best of Big Jim Rennie.
Carter screamed again as he was split open. Beads of blood sprayed Big Jim’s face, driven by what he devoutly hoped was the boy’s last breath. He pushed Carter back. In the beam of the dropped flashlight, Carter staggered away, crunching through spilled Froot Loops and holding his belly. Blood poured over his fingers. He pawed at the shelves and fell to his knees in a rain of Vigo Sardines, Snow’s Clam Fry-Ettes, and Campbell’s Soups. For a moment he stayed that way, as if he had reconsidered and decided to say a prayer after all. His hair hung in his face. Then he lost his grip and went down.
Big Jim considered the knife, but that was too labor-intensive for a man suffering from heart problems (he promised himself again that he would get that taken care of as soon as this crisis was over). He picked up Carter’s gun instead, and walked to the foolish boy.
‘Carter? Are you still with us?’
Carter moaned, tried to turn over, gave up.
‘I’m going to put one high up in the back of your neck, just as you suggested. But I want to give you one final piece of advice first. Are you listening?’
Carter groaned again. Big Jim took this for assent.
‘The advice is this: Never give a good politician time to pray.’
Big Jim pulled the trigger.
12
‘I think he’s dying!’ Private Ames shouted. ‘I think the kid’s dying!’ Sergeant Groh knelt beside Ames and peered through the dirty slot at the bottom of the Dome. Ollie Dinsmore was lying on his side with his lips almost pressed against a surface they could now see, thanks to the filth still clinging to it. In his best drill sergeant’s voice, Groh yelled: ‘Yo! Ollie Dinsmore! Front and center!’
Slowly, the boy opened his eyes and looked at the two men crouched less than a foot away but in a colder, cleaner world. ‘What?’ he whispered.
‘Nothing, son,’ Groh said. ‘Go back to sleep.’
Oroh turned to Ames. ‘Unbunch your panties, Private. He’s fine.’
‘He’s not. Just look at him!’
Groh took Ames by the arm and helped him—not unkindly—to his feet. ‘No,’ he agreed in a low voice.’He’s not even slightly okay, but he’s alive and sleeping and right now that’s the best we can ask for. He’ll use up less oxygen that way. You go get yourself something to eat. Did you get any breakfast?’
Ames shook his head. The thought of breakfast hadn’t even crossed Ms mind. ‘I want to stay in case he comes back around.’ He paused, then plunged. ‘I want to be here if he dies.’
‘He’s not going to for awhile,’ Groh said. He had no idea if this was true or not. ‘Get something out of the truck, even if it’s only a slice of bologna wrapped in a slice of bread.You look like shit, soldier.’
Ames jerked his head toward the boy sleeping on charred ground with his mouth and nose cocked to the Dome. His face was streaked with filth, and they could barely see the rise and fall of his chest. ‘How long do you think he’s got, Sarge?’
Groh shook his head. ‘Probably not long. Someone in the group on the other side already died this morning, and several of the others aren’t doing well. And it’s better over there. Cleaner. You have to prepare yourself
Ames felt close to tears. ‘Kid lost his whole family.’
^Go get yourself something to eat. I’ll watch until you come back.’
‘But after that I can stay?’
«The kid wants you, Private, the kid gets you.You can stay until the end.’
Groh watched Ames double-time to the table near the helicopter, where some food was laid out. Out here, it was ten o’clock on a jpretty late-fall morning. The sun was shining and melting off the last of a heavy frost. But only a few feet away there was a bubble-world of perpetual twilight, a world where the air was unbreathable and time had ceased to have any meaning. Groh remembered a pond in the local park where he’d grown up. Wilton, Connecticut, that had been. There had been golden carp in
