-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Стивен Кинг
-
- Сияние
-
- Стр. 482/529
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
"
Gas
!
"
Hallorann
cried
,
his
voice
shrill
and
breaking
.
"
Gonna
burn
you
,
baby
!
Dig
on
it
awhile
!
"
The
lion
came
at
him
again
,
still
spitting
angrily
.
Hallorann
splashed
it
again
but
this
time
the
lion
didn
’
t
give
.
It
charged
ahead
.
Hallorann
sensed
rather
than
saw
its
head
angling
at
his
face
and
he
threw
himself
backward
,
partially
avoiding
it
.
Yet
the
lion
still
hit
his
upper
rib
cage
a
glancing
blow
,
and
a
flare
of
pain
struck
there
.
Gas
gurgled
out
of
the
can
,
which
he
still
held
,
and
doused
his
right
hand
and
arm
,
cold
as
death
.
Now
he
lay
on
his
back
in
a
snow
angel
,
to
the
right
of
the
snowmobile
by
about
ten
paces
.
The
hissing
lion
was
a
bulking
presence
to
his
left
,
closing
in
again
.
Hallorann
thought
he
could
see
its
tail
twitching
.
He
yanked
Cottrell
’
s
mitten
off
his
right
hand
,
tasting
sodden
wool
and
gasoline
.
He
ripped
up
the
hem
of
the
parka
and
jammed
his
hand
into
his
pants
pocket
.
Down
in
there
,
along
with
his
keys
and
his
change
,
was
a
very
battered
old
Zippo
lighter
.
He
had
bought
it
in
Germany
in
1954
.
Once
the
hinge
had
broken
and
he
had
returned
it
to
the
Zippo
factory
and
they
had
repaired
it
without
charge
,
just
as
advertised
.
A
nightmare
flood
of
thoughts
flooding
through
his
mind
in
a
split
second
.
(
Dear
Zippo
my
lighter
was
swallowed
by
a
crocodile
dropped
front
an
airplane
lost
in
the
Pacific
trench
saved
me
from
a
Kraut
bullet
in
the
Battle
of
the
Bulge
dear
Zippo
if
this
fucker
doesn
’
t
go
that
lion
is
going
to
rip
my
head
off
)
The
lighter
was
out
.
He
clicked
the
hood
back
.
The
lion
,
rushing
at
him
,
a
growl
like
ripping
cloth
,
his
finger
flicking
the
striker
wheel
,
spark
,
flame
,
(
my
hand
)
his
gasoline
-
soaked
hand
suddenly
ablaze
,
the
flames
running
up
the
sleeve
of
the
parka
,
no
pain
,
no
pain
yet
,
the
lion
shying
from
the
torch
suddenly
blazing
in
front
of
it
,
a
hideous
flickering
hedge
sculpture
with
eyes
and
a
mouth
,
shying
away
,
too
late
.
Wincing
at
the
pain
,
Hallorann
drove
his
blazing
arm
into
its
stiff
and
scratchy
side
.
