"Быстрее!" Сказал Томми Ривьер. "Быстрее!"
"Я жму 85 сейчас", сказал Келсо Блэк.
"Копы позади нас", сказал Ривьера. "Дожимай до 90." Он высунулся из окна. За убегающим автомобилем был полицейский автомобиль, с сиреной воющей и красной мигалкой.
"Я рвану по боковой дороге впереди," Блэк хмыкнул. Он повернул руль, и автомобиль превратился в распылитель гравия по извилистой дорожке.
Полицейский в форме почесал голову,- "Куда они делись?"
Его партнёр нахмурился. "Я не знаю. Они просто исчезли".
"Смотри," сказал Блэк. "Свет впереди."
"Это отель," изумленно сказал Ривьера. "За этой трассой вагончик, отель!
Если это не разбитое всё! Полиция никогда не найдёт нас там".
Блэк, невзирая на горячие шины авто, припечатал тормоза. Ривьера достал с заднего сиденья чёрную сумку.
Они вошли. Отель выглядел так же, как место из начала 20 века.
Ривьера позвонил нетерпеливо. Старичок появился оттуда.
- "Мы хотим,.. нам бы номер," сказал Блэк.
Человек смотрел на них молча.
"Комнату" повторил Блэк.
Тот уже повернулся, чтобы направится в свой офис.
"Послушай, старик," сказал Томми Ривьера. "Я здесь не побирушка."- Он вытащил свой "38.
"Теперь вы дадите нам номер."
Человек намеревавшийся уйти, всё же н сказал: "Номер пять. Конец зала".
Он не дал им подписывать регистрацию, поэтому они пошли вверх.
Комната была пустой, с железом двуспальной кровати, треснувшим зеркалом, с загрязненными обои за пределами.
- "Ааа, какой убогий разъём," - Блэк сказал с отвращением.
- "Я буду держать пари, что есть достаточное количество тараканов здесь, на пять галлонов хватит."
На следующее утро, когда Ривьера проснулся, он не мог встать с постели. Он не мог пошевелиться. Он был парализован. Только тогда старик появился в поле зрения. У него была игла, которую он воткнул в руку Блэка.
"Так что ты не спишь," сказал он. "Мои, мои, вы, два новых дополнения к моему музею, за двадцать пять лет. Но вы будете хорошо сохранятся. И вы не умирёте.
"Поедете с остальной частью моей коллекции в живой музей. Хорошие экземпляры ".
Томми Ривьера не смог даже выразить свой ужас.
Отель в тупике
© Copyright: Вячеслав Толстов, 2016
Свидетельство о публикации №216091600969
Свидетельство о публикации №216091600969
Рецензии
HOTEL AT THE END OF THE ROAD
1960
Стивен КИНГ
Люди, места и вещи, том 1 (People, Places & Things vol.1), 1960
“Faster!” Tommy Riviere said. “Faster!”
“I'm hitting 85 now,” Kelso Black said.
“The cops are right behind us," Riviera said. “Put it up to 90.” He leaned out the window. Behind the fleeing car was a police car, with siren wailing and red light flashing.
“I'm hitting the side road ahead,” Black grunted. He turned the wheel and the car turned into the winding road-spraying gravel.
The uniformed policeman scratched his head. “Where did they go?”
His partner frowned. “I don't know. They just—disappeared.”
“Look,” Black said. “Lights ahead.”
“It's a hotel,” Riviera said wonderingly. “Out on this wagon track, a hotel! If that don't beat all! The police’s never look for us there.”
Black, unheeding of the car's tires, stamped on the brake. Riviera reached into the back seat and got a black bag. They walked in.
The hotel looked just like a scene out of the early 1900s.
Riviera rang the bell impatiently. An old man shuffled out. “We want a room,” Black said.
The man stared at them silently.
“A room,” Black repeated.
The man turned around to go back into his office.
“Look, old man,” Tommy Riviera said. “I don't take that from anybody.” He pulled out his thirty-eight. “Now you give us a room.”
The man looked ready to keep going, but at last he said: “Room five. End of the hall.”
He gave them no register to sign, so they went up. The room was barren except for an iron double bed, a cracked mirror, and soiled wallpaper.
“Aah, what a crummy joint,” Black said in disgust. “I'll bet there's enough cockroaches here to fill a five-gallon can.”
The next morning when Riviera woke up, he couldn't get out of bed. He couldn't move a muscle. He was paralyzed. Just then the old man came into view. He had a needle which he put into Black's arms.
“So you're awake,” he said. “My, my, you two are the first additions to my museum in twenty-five years. But you'll be well preserved. And you won't die.
“You'll go with the rest of my collection of living museum. Nice specimens.”
Tommy Riviera couldn't even express his horror.
Вячеслав Толстов 16.09.2016 13:16 • Заявить о нарушении
1960
Стивен КИНГ
Люди, места и вещи, том 1 (People, Places & Things vol.1), 1960
“Faster!” Tommy Riviere said. “Faster!”
“I'm hitting 85 now,” Kelso Black said.
“The cops are right behind us," Riviera said. “Put it up to 90.” He leaned out the window. Behind the fleeing car was a police car, with siren wailing and red light flashing.
“I'm hitting the side road ahead,” Black grunted. He turned the wheel and the car turned into the winding road-spraying gravel.
The uniformed policeman scratched his head. “Where did they go?”
His partner frowned. “I don't know. They just—disappeared.”
“Look,” Black said. “Lights ahead.”
“It's a hotel,” Riviera said wonderingly. “Out on this wagon track, a hotel! If that don't beat all! The police’s never look for us there.”
Black, unheeding of the car's tires, stamped on the brake. Riviera reached into the back seat and got a black bag. They walked in.
The hotel looked just like a scene out of the early 1900s.
Riviera rang the bell impatiently. An old man shuffled out. “We want a room,” Black said.
The man stared at them silently.
“A room,” Black repeated.
The man turned around to go back into his office.
“Look, old man,” Tommy Riviera said. “I don't take that from anybody.” He pulled out his thirty-eight. “Now you give us a room.”
The man looked ready to keep going, but at last he said: “Room five. End of the hall.”
He gave them no register to sign, so they went up. The room was barren except for an iron double bed, a cracked mirror, and soiled wallpaper.
“Aah, what a crummy joint,” Black said in disgust. “I'll bet there's enough cockroaches here to fill a five-gallon can.”
The next morning when Riviera woke up, he couldn't get out of bed. He couldn't move a muscle. He was paralyzed. Just then the old man came into view. He had a needle which he put into Black's arms.
“So you're awake,” he said. “My, my, you two are the first additions to my museum in twenty-five years. But you'll be well preserved. And you won't die.
“You'll go with the rest of my collection of living museum. Nice specimens.”
Tommy Riviera couldn't even express his horror.
Вячеслав Толстов 16.09.2016 13:16 • Заявить о нарушении