The Regulators - Stephen King [78]
He didn't realize he had lifted the .30-.06 into firing position until Steve pushed the barrel back down with the palm of his hand. 'No, man. I wouldn't. Better to keep quiet, maybe.'
He was right, but . . . God. It wasn't just what it was doing, but what it was.
'Losser goddam arm!' Gary announced from the kitchen, as if afraid they might forget this if he allowed them to. Old Doc ignored him. He had crossed the living room looking like a man who expects to be shot dead in his tracks at any moment, but now he seemed to have forgotten all about killers, weird vans, and transforming houses.
'My good gosh, look at that!' he exclaimed in a tone that sounded very much like awe. 'I ought to photograph it. Yes! Excuse me . . . I'll just get my camera . . . '
He began to turn away. Cynthia grabbed him by the shoulder. 'The camera can wait, Mr Billingsley.'
He seemed to come back a little to their situation at that. 'Yes . . . I suppose, but . . . '
The bird turned, as if hearing them, and seemed to stare at the vet's bungalow with its red-rimmed eyes. Its pink skull appeared black with stubble. Its beak was a simple yellow hook.
'Is that a buzzard?' Cynthia asked. 'Or maybe a vulture?'
'Buzzard? Vulture?' Old Doc looked startled. 'Good gosh, no. I've never seen a bird like that in my life.'
'In Ohio, you mean,' Collie said, knowing that wasn't what Billingsley meant, but wanting to hear it for himself.
'I mean anywhere.'
The hippie looked from the bird to Billingsley and then back to the bird again. 'What is it, then? A new species?'
'New species my fanny! Excuse my French, young lady, but that's a fucking mutant!' Billingsley stared, rapt, as the bird opened its wings, flapping them in order to help it move a little farther up Mary's leg. 'Look how big its body is, and how short its wings are in relation to it — damned thing makes an ostrich look like a miracle of aerodynamics! I don't think the wings are even the same length!'
'No,' Collie said. 'I don't think they are, either.'
'How can it fly?' Doc demanded. 'How can it possibly fly?'
'I don't know, but it does.' Cynthia pointed down toward the thick billows which had now blotted out all vestiges of the world below Hyacinth Street. 'It flew out of the smoke. I saw it.'
'I'm sure you did, I didn't think someone pulled up in a . . . a Birdmobile and dropped it off, but how it can possibly fly is beyond all — ' He broke off, peering at the thing. 'Although I can understand how you might have thought it was a buzzard before the inevitable second thoughts set in.' Collie thought Old Doc was mostly talking to himself by this point, but he listened intently just the same. 'It does look a little like a buzzard. As a child might draw it, anyway.'
'Huh?' Cynthia said.
'As a child might draw it,' Billingsley repeated. 'Perhaps one who got it all mixed up in his mind with a bald eagle.'
3
The sight of Ralphie Carver hurt Johnny's heart. Put aside by Jim Reed, whose solicitude had been superseded by his excitement at the impending mission, Ralphie stood between the stove and the refrigerator with his thumb in his mouth and a big wet spot spreading on the front of his shorts. All his bratty bluster had departed. His eyes were huge and still and shiny. He looked to Johnny like drug addicts he had known.
Johnny stopped inside the kitchen door and put Ellie down. She didn't want to go, but at last he managed to pry her hands gently off his neck. Her eyes were also shocked, but held none of the merciful glaze Johnny could see in her brother's. He looked past her and saw Kim and Susi Geller sitting on the floor with their arms around each other. Probably suits Mom just fine, Johnny thought, remembering how the woman had seemed to struggle with young David Reed for possession of the girl.