In still waters - стр. 32
"I'm telling you, there's someone out there!" Bradley's voice had taken on a plaintive, almost childlike quality.
Steven heaved a put-upon sigh. "Fine, if it'll shut you up, I'll go take a look. Gotta drain the snake anyway." He popped the door open, the interior light briefly illuminating his annoyed expression before he vanished into the darkness.
Seconds stretched into an eternity. Bradley's eyes darted frantically from shadow to shadow, his imagination populating the darkness with a thousand unseen terrors. "Steven?" he called out, his voice barely above a whisper. "You find anything?" The silence that answered him was deafening. "Shit, shit, shit!" Bradley muttered, his hand fumbling for the door handle. He managed to get one foot on the ground, his body following in a graceless lurch.
The attack, when it came, was swift and unexpected. Steven burst from the shadows, his face contorted in a mask of exaggerated terror that quickly dissolved into hysterical laughter. "Jesus, Bradley, you should've seen your face!" Steven howled, doubled over with mirth.
"You fucking asshole!" Bradley exploded, his terror transmuting instantly into rage. "I almost had a goddamn heart attack!"
Back in the car, the bottle of gin made its rounds, the liquor burning a path down their throats as they passed it back and forth. "Alright, time to roll," Steven slurred, throwing the car into reverse. "Gotta get this puke-mobile cleaned up tomorrow, thanks to you." The words had barely left his mouth when a sickening thud reverberated through the vehicle, followed by the unmistakable sound of something heavy hitting the asphalt.
Bradley's eyes widened in horror. "Dude, I think we hit someone!" The alcohol seemed to evaporate from his system, replaced by a cold, creeping dread. Steven, in contrast, burst into inappropriate laughter.
"Probably just a deer, man. Chill out."
"Fuck that noise. I'm checking it out." Bradley's voice was steadier now, a hint of steel beneath the fear. He stumbled out of the car, swaying like a sailor on a storm-tossed ship.
Steven killed the engine and the headlights, plunging them into darkness. Bradley approached the rear of the car, his heart pounding a staccato rhythm against his ribs. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he made out a figure lying face-down on the asphalt. It was unmistakably human.
With trembling hands, Bradley reached out to turn the body over. As he did, realization dawned – it was a dummy, a cruel trick of fate or something far more sinister. "What the actual fuck?" he muttered, dragging the lifeless prop to the side of the road. As he started to head back to the car, a rustling in the bushes stopped him dead in his tracks. He turned, peering into the darkness, but saw nothing. The sound came again, closer this time. Bradley felt the first tendrils of true fear wrapping around his heart.