-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Стивен Кинг
-
- Зеленая миля
-
- Стр. 55/304
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
And
there
was
a
smell
.
Not
bad
in
itself
,
but
unpleasant
in
its
associations
.
I
've
never
been
able
to
go
down
in
the
cellar
at
my
granddaughter
's
house
when
they
bring
me
there
,
although
that
's
where
their
little
boy
has
his
Lionel
set-up
,
which
he
would
dearly
love
to
share
with
his
great-grampa
.
I
do
n't
mind
the
trains
,
as
I
'm
sure
you
can
guess
--
it
's
the
transformer
I
ca
n't
abide
.
The
way
it
hums
.
And
the
way
,
when
it
gets
hot
,
it
smells
.
Even
after
all
these
years
,
that
smell
reminds
me
of
Cold
Mountain
.
Van
Hay
gave
him
thirty
seconds
,
then
turned
the
juice
off
.
The
doctor
stepped
forward
from
his
place
and
listened
with
his
stethoscope
.
There
was
no
talk
from
the
witnesses
now
.
The
doctor
straightened
up
and
looked
through
the
mesh
.
"
Disorganized
,
"
he
said
,
and
made
a
twirling
,
cranking
gesture
with
one
finger
.
He
had
heard
a
few
random
heartbeats
from
Bitterbuck
's
chest
,
probably
as
meaningless
as
the
final
jitters
of
a
decapitated
chicken
,
but
it
was
better
not
to
take
chances
.
You
did
n't
want
him
suddenly
sitting
up
on
the
gurney
when
you
had
him
halfway
through
the
tunnel
,
bawling
that
he
felt
like
he
was
on
fire
.
Van
Hay
rolled
on
three
and
The
Chief
surged
forward
again
,
twisting
a
little
from
side
to
side
in
the
grip
of
the
current
.
When
doc
listened
this
time
,
he
nodded
.
It
was
over
.
We
had
once
again
succeeded
in
destroying
what
we
could
not
create
.
Some
of
the
folks
in
the
audience
had
begun
talking
in
those
low
voices
again
;
most
sat
with
their
heads
down
,
looking
at
the
floor
,
as
if
stunned
.
Or
ashamed
.
Harry
and
Dean
came
up
with
the
stretcher
.
It
was
actually
Percy
's
job
to
take
one
end
,
but
he
did
n't
know
and
no
one
had
bothered
to
tell
him
.
The
Chief
,
still
wearing
the
black
silk
hood
,
was
loaded
onto
it
by
Brutal
and
me
,
and
we
whisked
him
through
the
door
which
led
to
the
tunnel
as
fast
as
we
could
manage
it
without
actually
running
.
Smoke
--
too
much
of
it
--
was
rising
from
the
hole
in
the
top
of
the
mask
,
and
there
was
a
horrible
stench
.
"
Aw
,
man
!
"
Percy
cried
,
his
voice
wavering
.
"
What
's
that
smell
?
"
"
Just
get
out
of
my
way
and
stay
out
of
it
,
"
Brutal
said
,
shoving
past
him
to
get
to
the
wall
where
there
was
a
mounted
fire
extinguisher
.
It
was
one
of
the
old
chemical
kind
that
you
had
to
pump
.
Dean
,
meanwhile
,
had
stripped
off
the
hood
.
It
was
n't
as
bad
as
it
could
have
been
;
Bitterbuck
's
left
braid
was
smouldering
like
a
pile
of
wet
leaves
.
"
Never
mind
that
thing
,
"
I
told
Brutal
.
I
did
n't
want
to
have
to
clean
a
load
of
chemical
slime
off
the
dead
man
's
face
before
putting
him
in
the
back
of
the
meatwagon
.
I
slapped
at
The
Chief
's
head
(
Percy
staring
at
me
,
wide-eyed
,
the
whole
time
)
until
the
smoke
quit
rising
.
Then
we
carried
the
body
down
the
twelve
wooden
steps
to
the
tunnel
.
Here
it
was
as
chilly
and
dank
as
a
dungeon
,
with
the
hollow
plink-plink
sound
of
dripping
water
.
Hanging
lights
with
crude
tin
shades
--
they
were
made
in
the
prison
machine-shop
--
showed
a
brick
tube
that
ran
thirty
feet
under
the
highway
.
The
top
was
curved
and
wet
.
It
made
me
feel
like
a
character
in
an
Edgar
Allan
Poe
story
every
time
I
used
it
There
was
a
gurney
waiting
.
We
loaded
Bitterbuck
's
body
onto
it
,
and
I
made
a
final
check
to
make
sure
his
hair
was
out
.
That
one
braid
was
pretty
well
charred
,
and
I
was
sorry
to
see
that
the
cunning
little
bow
on
that
side
of
his
head
was
now
nothing
but
a
blackened
lump
.
