Dean R. Koontz - Shattered

VIP免费
2024-12-16 0 0 261.43KB 109 页 5.9玖币
侵权投诉
file:///G|/rah/Dean%20R.%20Koontz/Dean%20R.%20Koontz%20-%20Shattered.txt
SHATTERED
by Dean R. Koontz
SHATTERED was previously published in hardcover under the pseudonym of
K. R. Dwyer.
SHATTERED A Berkley Book / published by arrangement with the author
Random House edition published 1973
Berkley edition / February 1985
Copyright @ 1973 by Nkui, Inc.
Back cover photo copyright @ Jerry Bauer.
ISBN: 0-425-09933-4
A BERKLEY BOOK c) TM 757,375
MONDAY
Only four blocks from the furnished apartment in Philadelphia, with more
than three thousand miles to drive before they joined Courtney in San
Francisco, Colin began one of his games. Colin thrived on his games,
not those which required a board and movable pieces but those which were
played inside the head-word games, idea games, elaborate fantasies. He
was a very garrulous and precocious eleven-year-old with more energy
than he was able to use. Slender, shy in the company of strangers,
bothered by a moderately severe astigmatism in both eyes that required
him to wear heavy eyeglasses at all times, he was not much for sports.
He could not exhaust himself in a fast game of foot ball, because
none of the athletic boys his own age wanted to play with someone who
tripped over his own feet, dropped the ball, and was devastated by even
the most delicate tackle. Besides, sports bored him. He was an
intelligent kid, an avid reader, and he found his own games more fun
than football.
Kneeling on the front seat of the big car and looking out the rear
window at the home he was leaving forever, he said, "We're being
followed, Alex."
"Are we now?"
"Yeah. He was parked down the block when we put the suitcases in the
trunk. I saw him. Now he's following us."
Alex Doyle smiled as he wheeled the Thunderbird onto Lansdowne Avenue.
"Big black limousine, is it?"
Colin shook his head, his thick shoulderlength mop of brown hair
flopping vigorously. "No. It's some kind of van. Like a panel truck."
Alex looked in the rear-view mirror. "I don't see him."
"You lost him when you turned the corner," Colin said. He pressed his
stomach against the backrest, head thrust over the back seat. "There he
is! See him now?" Nearly a block behind them, a new Chevrolet van
turned the corner onto Lansdown Avenue. At five minutes past six
o'clock on a Monday morning, it was the only other moving vehicle in
sight.
"I thought it was always a black 'limousine," Alex said. "In the
file:///G|/rah/Dean%20R.%20Koontz/Dean%20R.%20Koontz%20-%20Shattered.txt (1 of 109) [2/9/2004 10:12:45 PM]
file:///G|/rah/Dean%20R.%20Koontz/Dean%20R.%20Koontz%20-%20Shattered.txt
movies, the heroes are always followed by a big black limousine.
"That's only in the movies," Colin said, still watching the van, which
remained a full block behind them. "Nobody's that obvious in real
life."
The trees on their right cast long black shadows across half the street
and made dizzying, flickering patterns on the windshield. The first sun
of May had risen somewhere to the east, still too far down the sky for
Alex to see it. Crisp spring sunlight bathed the old two-story frame
houses and made them new and fresh again.
Invigorated by the early-morning air and by the spray of green buds on
the trees, almost as excited as Colin was about the journey ahead of
them, Alex Doyle thought he had never been happier. He handled the
heavy car with ease, enjoying the quiet power at his disposal. They
were going to be on the road a long time in terms of both hours and
miles; but as imaginative as he was, Colin would provide better company
than most adults.
"He's still back there," Colin said.
"I wonder why he's following us."
Colin shrugged his thin shoulders but did not turn around. "Could be
lots of reasons."
"Name one."
"Well . . . He could have heard that we were moving to California. He
knows we'll take our valuables with us, see? Family treasures, things
like that. So he follows us and runs us into a ditch on some lonely
stretch of road and robs us at gunpoint."
Alex laughed. "Family treasures? All you have is clothes enough for
the trip. Everything else went out on the moving van a week ago, or it
went with your sister on the plane. And I assure you that I've brought
nothing more valuable than my wristwatch. " Colin was unperturbed by
Doyle's amusement. "Maybe he's an enemy of yours.
Someone with an old grudge to settle. He wants to get hold of you
before you leave town."
"I don't have any real friends in Philly," Alex said. "But I don't have
any real enemies, either. And if he wanted to beat me up, why didn't he
just catch me when I was putting our bags in the trunk?"
Fluttering laces of sunshine and shadow flipped rapidly over the
windshield. Ahead, a stoplight turned green just in time to spare Alex
the inconvenience of braking.
After a while Colin said, "Maybe he's a SPY.
"A spy?" Alex asked.
"A Russian or something."
"I thought we were friends with the Russians these days," Alex said,
looking at the van in the rear-view mirror and smiling again.
"And even if we aren't friends with the Russians these days-why would a
spy be interested in you or me?"
"That's easy," Colin said. "He has us mixed up with someone else.
file:///G|/rah/Dean%20R.%20Koontz/Dean%20R.%20Koontz%20-%20Shattered.txt (2 of 109) [2/9/2004 10:12:45 PM]
file:///G|/rah/Dean%20R.%20Koontz/Dean%20R.%20Koontz%20-%20Shattered.txt
He was assigned to tail someone living on our block, and he got
confused."
"I'm not scared of any spy who's that inept," Alex said. He reached out
and fiddled with the air-conditioning controls, brought a gentle, cool
breeze into the stuffy car.
"He might not be a spy," Colin said, his attention captured by the
unimposing little van. "He might be something else."
"Like what?
"Let me think about it awhile," the boy said.
While Colin thought about what the man in the van might be, Alex Doyle
watched the street ahead and thought about San Francisco. That hilly
city was not just a geographical identity so far as Alex was concerned.
To him, it was a synonym for the future and a symbol for everything that
a man wanted in life. The new job was there, the innovative advertising
agency that recognized and cultivated talented young commercial artists.
The new house was there, the three-bedroom Spanish stucco on the edge of
Lincoln Park, with its spectacular view of the Golden Gate area and the
shaggy palm outside the masterbedroom window. And Courtney was there,
of course.
If she had not been, the new job and the house would not have meant
anything. He and Courtney had met in Philadelphia, had fallen in love
there, had been married in the city hall on Market Street, with her
brother, Colin, as honorary best man and a woman from the Justice
Department steno pool as their required adult witness. Then Colin had
been packed off to stay two weeks with Alex's Aunt Pauline in Boston,
while the newlyweds flew to San Francisco to honeymoon, to meet Alex's
new employers to whom he had spoken only over the telephone, and to find
and buy the house in which they would start their life together.
It was in San Francisco, more than Philly, that the future took shape
and meaning. San Francisco became the future. And Courtney became
inextricably entwined with that city. In Doyle's mind, she was San
Francisco, just as San Francisco was the future. She was golden and
even-tempered, exotic, sensuous, intellectually intriguing, comfortable
yet exciting-everything that San Francisco was. And now, as he thought
about Courtney, the hilly streets and the crisp blue bay rose clearly
on the screen behind his eyes.
"He's still back there," Colin said, peering through the narrow rear
window at the van.
"At least he hasn't tried to run us into a ditch yet," Alex said.
"He won't do that," Colin said.
"He'll just tail us. He's a government man. "
"FBI, is he?"
"I think so," Colin said, grimly compressing his lips.
"Why would he be after us?"
"He's probably got us mixed up with someone else," Colin said.
"He was assigned to tail some-radicals. He saw our long hair and got
file:///G|/rah/Dean%20R.%20Koontz/Dean%20R.%20Koontz%20-%20Shattered.txt (3 of 109) [2/9/2004 10:12:45 PM]
file:///G|/rah/Dean%20R.%20Koontz/Dean%20R.%20Koontz%20-%20Shattered.txt
confused. He thinks we're the radicals."
"Well," Alex said, "our own spies are just as inefficient as the
Russians', aren't they?"
Doyle's smile was too large for his face, a generous curve that was
punctuated at each end with a dimple. He held the smile both because he
felt so damned fine and because he knew that it was the best thing about
his face. In all his thirty years, no one had ever told him that he was
handsome. Despite the fact that he was one-quarter Irish, there was too
much strong-jawed Italian in him, too much of a Roman nose. Three
months after they met, when they began to sleep together, Courtney
had said, "Doyle, you are just not a handsome man. You're attractive,
certainly, but not handsome.
When you say that I look smashing, I want to reciprocate-but I just
can't lie to you. But your smile . . . Now, that's perfect. When you
smile, you even look a little bit like Dustin Hoffman." Already they
were too honest with each other for Doyle to be hurt by what she'd said.
Indeed, he had been delighted by the comparison: "Dustin Hoffman? You
really think so?" She had studied him a moment, putting her hand under
his chin and turning his face this way and that in the weak orange light
of the bedside lamp. "When you smile, you look exactly like
Hoffman-when he's trying to look ugly, that is." He had gaped at her.
"When he's trying to look ugly, for Christ's sake?" She grimaced. "I
meant . . . Well, Hoffman can't really look ugly, even when he tries.
When you smile, then, you look like Hoffman but not as handsome . . ."
He watched her trying to extricate herself from the embarrassing hole
she'd dug, and he had begun to laugh. His laughter had infected her.
Soon they were giggling like idiots, expanding on the joke and making it
funnier, laughing until they were sick and then settling down and then
making love with a paradoxically fierce affection. Ever since that
night Doyle tried to remember to smile a lot.
On the right-hand side of the street a sign announced the entrance to
the Schuylkill Expressway. "Give your FBI man a break," Alex told the
boy. "Let him tail us in peace for a while. The expressway's coming
up, so you better turn around and buckle your seatbelt."
"Just a minute," Colin said.
"No," Alex said. "Get your seatbelt on, or I'll also make you use the
shoulder strap."
Colin despised being bound up by both belts.
'Half a minute," the boy said, straining even harder against the back of
the seat as Alex drove the car onto the approach ramp leading up to the
superhighway.
"Colin-" The boy turned around and bounced down onto the seat. "I just
wanted to see if he followed us onto the expressway. He did."
"Well, of course he did," Alex said. "An FBI man wouldn't be restricted
to the city limits. He could follow us anywhere."
"Clear across the country?" the boy asked.
"Sure. Why not?"
Colin laid his head back against the seat and laughed. "That'd be
funny. What would he do if he followed us clear across country and
found out we weren't the radicals he was after?
file:///G|/rah/Dean%20R.%20Koontz/Dean%20R.%20Koontz%20-%20Shattered.txt (4 of 109) [2/9/2004 10:12:45 PM]
file:///G|/rah/Dean%20R.%20Koontz/Dean%20R.%20Koontz%20-%20Shattered.txt
At the top of the ramp, Alex looked southeast at the two empty lanes of
blacktop. He eased his foot down on the accelerator, and they started
west. "You going to put your seatbelt on?"
"Oh sure," Colin said, fumbling for the half of the buckle that was
rolle up in the trough beside the passenger's door. "I forgot."
He had not forgotten, of course. Colin never forgot anything. He just
didn't like to wear the belt.
Briefly taking his eyes from the empty highway ahead of them, Alex
glanced sideways at the boy and saw him struggling with the two halves
of the seatbelt. Colin grimaced, cursed the apparatus, making problems
with it so Doyle would know just what he thought of being tied down like
a prisoner.
"You might as well grin and bear it," Alex said, grinning himself as he
looked ahead at the highway again. "You're going to wear that belt the
whole way to California, whether you like it or not."
"I won't like it," Colin assured him. The seatbelt in place, he
smoothed the wrinkles out of his King Kong T-shirt until the
silkscreened photograph of the gigantic, raging gorilla was neatly
centered on his frail chest. He pushed his thick hair out of his eyes
and straightened the heavy wire-framed glasses which his button nose was
hard-pressed to hold in place. "Thirty-one hundred miles," he said,
watching the gray roadway roll under and behind them. The
Thunderbird's power seat elevated high enough to give him a good view.
"How long will it take to drive that far?"
c won c o ing around ex sal "We ought to get into San Francisco Saturday
morning."
"Five days," Colin said. "Hardly more than six hundred miles a day." He
sounded disappointed by the pace.
"If you could spell me at the wheel," Alex said, "we'd do better.
But I wouldn't want to handle much more than six hundred a day all by
myself."
"So why didn't Courtney drive out with us?" Colin asked.
"She's getting the house ready. She met the movers there, and she's
arranging for drapes and carpeting-all that stuff."
"Did you know that when I flew up to Boston to stay with Pauline while
you two were on your honeymoon-that was my first plane ride?"
"I know," Alex said. Colin had talked about it for two solid days after
he came back.
"I really liked that plane ride."
"I know."
Colin frowned. "Why couldn't we sell this car and fly out to California
with Courtney? "
"You know the answer to that," Alex said.
"The car's only a year old. A new car depreciates the most in its
first year. If you want to get your money out of it, you keep it for
file:///G|/rah/Dean%20R.%20Koontz/Dean%20R.%20Koontz%20-%20Shattered.txt (5 of 109) [2/9/2004 10:12:45 PM]
file:///G|/rah/Dean%20R.%20Koontz/Dean%20R.%20Koontz%20-%20Shattered.txt
three or four years."
"You could afford the loss," Colin said, beginning to beat a quiet but
insistent rhythm on his dungareed knees. "I heard you and Courtney
talking. You'll be making a fortune in San Francisco."
Alex held one palm out to dry it in the hushed breath of the
air-conditioning vent on the dashboard. "Thirty-five thousand dollars a
year is not a fortune."
"I only get a three-dollar allowance," the boy said.
"True enough," Alex said. "But I've got nineteen years of experience
and training on you." The tires hummed pleasantly on the pavement.
A huge truck hurtled by on the other side of the road, going in toward
the city. It was the first traffic, besides the van, that they had
seen.
"Thirty-one hundred miles," Colin said. "That's just about one-eighth
of the way around the world."
Alex had to think a minute. "That's right."
"If we kept driving and didn't stop in California, we'd need about forty
days to circumnavigate the earth," Colin said, holding his hands around
an imaginary globe at which he was staring intently.
Alex remembered when the boy had first learned the word "circumnavigate"
and had been fascinated with the sound and concept of it. For weeks he
did not walk around the room or the block-he "circumnavigated"
everything. "Well, we'd probably need more than forty days," Alex said.
"I don't know what kind of driving time I can make on the Pacific
Ocean."
Colin thought that was funny. "I meant we could do it if there was a
bridge," he said.
Alex looked at the speedometer and saw that they were only making a
moderate fifty miles an hour, twenty less than he had intended to
maintain on this first leg of the journey. Colin was good company.
Indeed, he was too good. If he kept distracting Alex, they'd need a
month to get across the damn country.
"Forty days," Colin mused. "That's half as long as they needed when
Jules Verne wrote about it."
Though he knew that Colin had been skipped ahead one grade in school and
that his reading ability was still a couple of years in advance of that
of his classmates, Alex was always surprised at the extent of the kid's
knowledge. "You've read Around the World in Eighty Days, have you?"
"Sure," Colin said. "A long time ago." He held his hands out in
front of another vent and dried them as he had seen Doyle do.
Though it was a small thing, that gesture made an impression on Doyle.
He, too, had been a skinny, nervous kid whose palms were always damp.
Like Colin, he had been shy with strangers, not much good at sports, an
outcast among his contemporaries. In college he had begun a rigorous
weightlifting program, determined to develop himself into another
Charles Atlas. By the time his chest filled out and his biceps
file:///G|/rah/Dean%20R.%20Koontz/Dean%20R.%20Koontz%20-%20Shattered.txt (6 of 109) [2/9/2004 10:12:46 PM]
file:///G|/rah/Dean%20R.%20Koontz/Dean%20R.%20Koontz%20-%20Shattered.txt
hardened, he grew bored with weight-lifting and quit bothering with it.
At five-ten and a hundred-sixty pounds, he was no Charles Atlas. But he
was slim and hard, and he was no longer the skinny kid, either. Still,
he was awkward with people whom he had just met-and his palms were often
damp with nervous perspiration. Deep inside, he had not forgotten what
it was like to be constantly selfconscious and never self-confident
enough. Watching Colin dry his slender hands, Alex understood why he
had taken an immediate liking to the boy and why they had seemed
comfortable with each other from the day they met eighteen months
before. Nineteen years separated them. But little else.
"He still back there?" Colin asked, breaking into Alex's thoughts.
"Who? "
"The van."
Alex checked the mirror. "He's there. He doesn't give up easily."
"Can I look?"
"You keep your belt on."
"This is going to be a bad trip," Colin said morosely.
"It will be if you don't accept the rules at the start " Alex agreed.
Traffic' picked up on the other side of the expressway as the early-bird
commuters began their day and as an occasional truck whistled by on the
last lap of a long cargo haul. On the westbound lanes, their own car
and the van were the only things in sight.
The sun was behind the Thunderbird, where it could not bother them.
Ahead, the sky was marred by only two white clouds. The hills, on both
sides, were green.
When they got on the Pennsylvania turnpike at Valley Forge and went west
toward Harrisburg, Colin said, "What about our tail? "
"Still there. Some poor FBI agent tracking the wrong prey."
"He'll probably lose his job," Colin said.
"That'll make an opening for me."
"You want to be an FBI agent?"
"I've thought about it," Colin admitted.
Alex pulled the Thunderbird into the left lane, passed a car pulling a
horse trailer. Two little girls about Colin's age were in the back seat
of the car. They pressed against the side window and waved at Colin,
who blushed and looked sternly ahead.
"it wouldn't be dull in the FBI," Colin said.
"oh, I don't know about that. it might be pretty boring when you have
to follow a crook for weeks before he does something exciting."
"Well, it can't be any more boring than sitting under a seatbelt all the
way to California, " Colin said.
God, Alex thought, I walked into that one. He took the car into the
file:///G|/rah/Dean%20R.%20Koontz/Dean%20R.%20Koontz%20-%20Shattered.txt (7 of 109) [2/9/2004 10:12:46 PM]
file:///G|/rah/Dean%20R.%20Koontz/Dean%20R.%20Koontz%20-%20Shattered.txt
right lane again, set the automatic accelerator for an even seventy
miles per hour so that if Colin got too interesting they would still
make decent time. "When that guy following us gets us on a lonely
stretch of road and runs us into a ditch, you'll thank me for making you
wear your belt. It'll save your life."
Colin turned and looked at him, his big brown eyes made even larger by
the eyeglasses. "I guess you aren't going to give in."
"You guessed right."
Colin sighed. "You're more or less my father now. Aren't you?"
"I'm your sister's husband. But . . . Since your sister has custody
of you, I guess you could say I have a father's right to make rules
you'll live by."
Colin shook his head, brushed his long hair out of his eyes. "I don't
know. Maybe it was better being an orphan."
"Oh, you think so, do you?" Doyle asked, full of mock anger.
"If you hadn't come along, I wouldn't have gotten a plane ride to
Boston," Colin admitted. "I wouldn't get to go to California either.
But . . . I don't know."
"You're too much," Doyle said, ruffling the boy's hair with one hand.
Sighing loudly, as if he needed the patience of job in order to get
along with Doyle, the boy smoothed his mussed hair with a comb he kept
in his hip pocket. He put the comb away, straightened his King Kong
T-shirt. "Well, I'll have to think about it. I'm just not sure yet."
The engine was silent. The tires made almost no noise on the
well-surfaced roadbed.
Five minutes slipped by without awkwardness; they were comfortable
enough with each other to endure silence. However, Colin grew restless
and began to tap wildly elaborate rhythms on his bony knees.
"You want to find something on the radio?" Alex asked.
Is "I'll have to unbuckle my seatbelt."
"Okay. But just for a minute or two."
The boy relished the slithering retreat of the cloth belt. for an
instant he was on his knees on the seat, turned and looking out the car
window. "He's still behind us!"
"Hey!" Alex said. "you're supposed to be finding a radio station."
Colin turned and sat down. "Well, you'd have thought I was slipping if
I didn't try."
His grin was irresistible.
"Get some music on that thing," Alex said.
Colin fiddled with the AM-FM radio until he located a rock-and-roll
show. He set the volume, then suddenly popped up on his knees and
looked out the rear window. "Staying right on our tail," he said. Then
he dropped into his seat and grabbed for his belt.
file:///G|/rah/Dean%20R.%20Koontz/Dean%20R.%20Koontz%20-%20Shattered.txt (8 of 109) [2/9/2004 10:12:46 PM]
file:///G|/rah/Dean%20R.%20Koontz/Dean%20R.%20Koontz%20-%20Shattered.txt
"You're a real troublemaker, aren't you?"
Alex asked.
"Don't worry about me," the boy said. "We have to worry about that guy
following us."
At eight-fifteen they stopped at a Howard Johnson's restaurant outside
of Harrisburg. The moment Alex slotted the car into a parking space in
front of the orange-roofed building, Colin was looking for the van.
"He's here. Like I expected."
Alex looked out his side window and saw the van pass in front of the
restaurant, heading for the service station at the other end. On the
side of the white Chevrolet, brilliant blue and green letters read:
automover. ONE WAY MOVE-IT-YOURSELF CONVENIENCE! Then the van was out
of sight.
"Come on," Alex said. "Let's get some breakfast. "
"Yeah," Colin said. "I wonder if he'll have the nerve to walk in after
us?"
"He's just here to get gas. By the time we come out, he'll be fifty
miles down the turnpike. " When they came outside again nearly an hour
later, the parking spaces in front of the restaurant were all occupied.
A new Cadillac ' two ageless Volkswagens, a gleaming red Triumph sports
car, a battered and muddy old Buick, their own black Thunderbird, and a
dozen other vehicles nosed into the curb like several species of animals
sharing a trough. The rented van was nowhere in sight.
"He must have phoned his superiors while we were eating-and discovered
he was following the wrong people," Alex said.
Colin frowned. He jammed his hands into his dungaree pockets, looked up
and down the row of cars as if he thought the Chevrolet were really
there in some clever new disguise. Now he would have to make up a whole
new game.
Which was just as well, so far as Doyle was concerned. It was not
likely that even Colin could devise two games with built-in excuses for
his popping out of his seatbelt every fifteen minutes.
They walked slowly back to the car, Doyle savoring the crisp morning
air, Colin squinting at the parking lot and hoping for a glimpse of the
van.
just as they were to the car, the boy said, "I'll bet he's parked around
the side of the restaurant." Before Doyle could forbid him, Colin
jumped back onto the sidewalk and ran around the corner of the building,
his tennis shoes slapping loudly on the concrete.
Alex got in the car, started it, and set the air conditioning a notch
higher to blow out the stale air that had accumulated while they were
having breakfast.
By the time he had belted himself in, Colin was back. The boy opened
the passenger's door and climbed inside. He was downcast. "Not back
there either." He shut and locked the door, slumped down, thin arms
folded over his chest.
"Seatbelt." Alex put the car in gear and reversed out of the parking
file:///G|/rah/Dean%20R.%20Koontz/Dean%20R.%20Koontz%20-%20Shattered.txt (9 of 109) [2/9/2004 10:12:46 PM]
file:///G|/rah/Dean%20R.%20Koontz/Dean%20R.%20Koontz%20-%20Shattered.txt
lot.
Grumbling, Colin put on the belt.
They pulled across the macadam to the service station and stopped by the
pumps to have the tank topped off.
,__o The man who hurried out to wait on them was in his forties, a
beefy farmer-type with a flushed face and gnarled hands.
He was chewing tobacco, not a common sight in Philly or San Francisco,
and he was cheerful. "Help you folks?"
"Fill it with regular, please," Alex said, passing his credit card
through the window. "It probably only needs half a tank."
"Sure thing." Four letterS-CHET-were stitched across the man's shirt
pocket. Chet bent down and looked past Alex at the boy. "How are you,
Chief?"
Colin looked at him, incredulous. "F-f-fine," he stammered.
Chet showed a mouthful of stained teeth. "Glad to hear it." Then he
went to the back of the car to put in the gasoline.
"Why did he call me Chief?" Colin asked. He was over his incredulity
now, and he was embarrassed instead.
"Maybe he thinks you're an Indian," Alex said.
"Oh, sure."
"Or in charge of a fire company."
Colin scrunched down in the seat and looked at him sourly. "I should
have gone on the plane with Courtney. I can't take your bad jokes for
five days."
Alex laughed. "You're too much." He knew that Colin's perceptions and
vocabulary were far in advance of his real age, and he had long ago
grown accustomed to the boy's sometimes startling sarcasm and occasional
good turn of phrase. But there was a forced quality to this precocious
banter. Colin was trying hard to be grown up. He was straining out of
childhood ' trying to grit his teeth and will his way through
adolescence and into adulthood.
Doyle was familiar with that temperament, for it had been his own when
he was Colin's age.
Chet came back and gave Doyle the credit card and sales form on a hard
plastic holder. While Alex took the pen and scrawled his name, the
attendant peered at Colin again. "Have a long trip ahead of you,
Chief?"
Colin was as shaken this time as he had been when Chet had first
addressed him. "California," he said, looking at his knees.
"Well," Chet said, "ain't that something?
You're the second in an hour on his way to California. I always ask
where people's going. Gives me a sense of helping them along, you know?
An hour ago this guy's going to California, and now you.
Everyone's going to California except me." He sighed.
file:///G|/rah/Dean%20R.%20Koontz/Dean%20R.%20Koontz%20-%20Shattered.txt (10 of 109) [2/9/2004 10:12:46 PM]
摘要：

file:///G|/rah/Dean%20R.%20Koontz/Dean%20R.%20Koontz%20-%20Shattered.txtSHATTEREDbyDeanR.KoontzSHATTEREDwaspreviouslypublishedinhardcoverunderthepseudonymofK.R.Dwyer.SHATTEREDABerkleyBook/publishedbyarrangementwiththeauthorRandomHouseeditionpublished1973Berkleyedition/February1985Copyright@1973byNk...

展开>> 收起<<
Dean R. Koontz - Shattered.pdf

共109页,预览22页

还剩页未读， 继续阅读

声明：本站为文档C2C交易模式，即用户上传的文档直接被用户下载，本站只是中间服务平台，本站所有文档下载所得的收益归上传人(含作者)所有。玖贝云文库仅提供信息存储空间，仅对用户上传内容的表现方式做保护处理，对上载内容本身不做任何修改或编辑。若文档所含内容侵犯了您的版权或隐私，请立即通知玖贝云文库，我们立即给予删除！

相关推荐

更多
立即下载
分类：外语学习 价格：5.9玖币 属性：109 页 大小：261.43KB 格式：PDF 时间：2024-12-16

开通VIP享超值会员特权

  • 多端同步记录
  • 高速下载文档
  • 免费文档工具
  • 分享文档赚钱
  • 每日登录抽奖
  • 优质衍生服务

作者详情

相关内容

更多

热门标签

人际关系 配电装置 动力学连接体 力的合成 高考理综 全宋诗作者索引 公务员考试
/ 109
评分 收藏
分享
立即下载 VIP免费下载
客服
关注