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- Стивен Кинг
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- Кладбище домашних животных
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- Стр. 400/409
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Now
Gage
looked
up
at
him
and
for
a
moment
Louis
saw
his
son
--
his
real
son
--
his
face
unhappy
and
filled
with
pain
.
"
Daddy
!
"
he
cried
,
and
then
fell
forward
on
his
face
.
Louis
stood
there
for
a
moment
,
then
went
to
Gage
,
moving
carefully
,
expecting
some
trick
.
But
there
was
no
trick
,
no
sudden
leap
with
clawed
hands
.
He
slid
his
fingers
expertly
down
Gage
's
throat
,
found
the
pulse
,
and
held
it
.
He
was
then
a
doctor
for
the
last
time
in
his
life
,
monitoring
the
pulse
,
monitoring
until
there
was
nothing
,
nothing
inside
,
nothing
outside
.
When
it
was
gone
at
last
,
Louis
got
up
and
sauntered
down
the
hall
to
a
far
corner
.
He
crouched
there
,
pulling
himself
into
a
ball
,
cramming
himself
into
the
corner
,
tighter
and
tighter
.
He
found
he
could
make
himself
smaller
if
he
put
a
thumb
in
his
mouth
and
so
he
did
that
.
He
remained
that
way
for
better
than
two
hours
...
and
then
,
little
by
little
,
a
dark
and
oh-so-plausible
idea
came
to
him
.
He
pulled
his
thumb
from
his
mouth
.
It
made
a
small
pop
.
Louis
got
himself
(
hey-ho
let
's
go
)
going
again
.
In
the
room
where
Gage
had
hidden
,
he
stripped
the
sheet
from
the
bed
and
took
it
out
into
the
hall
.
He
wrapped
his
wife
's
body
in
it
,
gently
,
with
love
.
He
was
humming
but
did
not
realize
it
.
He
found
gasoline
in
Jud
's
garage
.
Five
gallons
of
it
in
a
red
can
next
to
the
Lawnboy
.
More
than
enough
.
He
began
in
the
kitchen
where
Jud
still
lay
under
the
Thanksgiving
tablecloth
.
He
drenched
that
,
then
moved
into
the
living
room
with
the
can
still
upended
,
spraying
amber
gas
over
the
rug
,
the
sofa
,
the
magazine
rack
,
the
chairs
,
and
so
out
into
the
downstairs
hall
and
toward
the
back
bedroom
.
The
smell
of
gas
was
strong
and
rich
.
