Gunslinger (Стивен Кинг) читать бесплатно онлайн полную версию книги

XIX

In the morning Brown fed him and sent him on his way. In the daylight he was an amazing figure with his scrawny, burnt chest, pencil-like collarbones and ring leted shock of red hair. The bird perched on his shoulder.

“The mule?” The gunslinger asked.

“I’ll eat it,” Brown said.

“Okay.”

Brown offered his hand and the gunslinger shook it. The dweller nodded to the south. “Walk easy. “

“You know it.”

They nodded at each other and then the gunslinger walked away, his body festooned with guns and water. He looked back once. Brown was rooting furiously at his little combed. The crow was perched on the low roof of his dwelling like a gargoyle.