Откуда счет ступеням - Глава 7 часть 2 - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

“As far as I know, the body is still there,” Will completed the story. “About ten years ago, someone bought the house, renovated it and filled the floor of the lower floor with cement.

-Not bad.

-Very bad. If anyone is still looking for this person, we may have problems. Although, as far as I know, no one was so worried about his disappearance. I drowned the clothes my father wore to the bar that evening in the lake - all of them, including his shoes. For which I got a lot of trouble from him later.

- Instead of gratitude.

-They were good shoes.

Hannibal chuckled skeptically.

-Do you think this Huxley will agree to help you?

-I think he will agree to sell us the boat without asking any questions.

-And then what?

Will shook his head. The whole of last day and this night merged for him into one surreal nightmare - the only thing missing was the hot breath of a feathered deer behind his back. He could not even imagine how this could all end.

Soon, two lanes on the highway transformed into one, the asphalt gave way to gravel, and then to just road dirt. The salty ocean breeze could be felt even through the Bentley's filtration system. The tension that had been shackling Will's arms and legs for the past six months was released slightly. He could almost hear the sound of the bursting invisible threads that had been poisoning his blood for so long.

Huxley's trailer stood alone in the middle of nowhere. Due to dirt, time and neglect, the white paint on it has peeled off and become covered with yellow spots. The flaming skull painted on the wall faded and greeted those approaching not with a black and red tint, but with a dull gray and dirty pink color scheme. A pale blue Oldsmobile and a Ford truck, both from the mid-eighties, sat side by side in the grass, overgrown with weeds up to the windows.

Will got out of the car and immediately plunged into the endless noise of the ocean and the sound of swarming insects, which swallowed him up.

Hearing the noise, Huxley came out, slammed the trailer door and pointed the barrel of a shotgun at the intruders.

-Get lost! - he shouted. – And don’t even think about pretending that you didn’t notice the “private property” sign! I hung them all around a mile ahead. I don't want any trouble, but if you push yourself, you'll be in trouble!

With the cigarette that Huxley clutched in his teeth, he hardly parted often, as evidenced by his smoky, hoarse voice, thick with nicotine and smoke. A flannel shirt, much like Will's, clung tightly to his bulging beer belly.

“I saw the warnings, Mr. Huxley,” Will said.

-Do I know you, guy? – he asked incredulously, but still lowered the shotgun a little.

-You knew my father. Beu Graham,” Will hadn’t spoken that name out loud since the funeral.

Huxley took a heavy half-step forward, the old boards creaking pitifully under his weight.

-Willie? - he drawled. The shotgun sank even lower, but then abruptly returned to its previous position. “I heard you’re a cop now?”

-Was. Not anymore.

-Then what do you want?

-I need a boat, I want to get away from here further and faster.

Huxley's face smoothed out. He slung the shotgun over his shoulder and began to walk heavily down the steps.

-Well, yes, I understand. Everyone has problems, and sometimes everyone wants to run away from them. Do you have cash?

-Two pieces. I need something with a cabin.

-Don't talk nonsense, guy. Five pieces minimum, and I’ll find you a great option.

-I can do without an excellent option, I need a boat today.

Huxley's lips curled into a smile.

-You're in a hurry, then? Inserted it into the wrong girl?

He turned his gaze to Hannibal, who had slipped out of the car like a silent shadow and was now standing next to Will, his hands behind his back.

- Or sucked off the wrong guy, huh?

Hannibal tensed slightly - Will, on a subconscious level, sensed the silent threat emanating from him and stepped forward, standing between him and Huxley.

-Killed the wrong person.