Аннотация
W E B Griffin
The Vigilantes
I
[ONE] 1834 Callowhill Street Philadelphia, Pennsylvania Saturday, October 31, 7:30 P.M.
Will Curtis, a frail fifty-four-year-old, was sitting slumped against the driver's door of his rusty Chevrolet Malibu when the thoughts suddenly hit again, causing him to wince and grunt. He quickly pulled his right hand from the.45 GAP Glock Model 37 semiautomatic pistol beside him on the seat, stabbed at the dash to turn off the radio, then smacked at the brim of his grease-smeared red-and-blue FedEx cap, knocking it from his head. With the fingers of both hands, he began rubbing his sweaty temples.
Goddamn these flashbacks! he thought.
The fingertips pressed harder and deeper in a futile attempt to make the mental images vanish.
Damn them all to hell!
Only six months earlier, Curtis had been what he'd thought of as bulky, standing at five-eleven and weighing two-ten. But now he had withered to a sickly one-sixty. Hi...
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