Читать книгу Clash of the Worlds - Ned Vizzini - Страница 31

“How close are we?” Eleanor yelled, as Fat Jagger stumbled again.

He opened his mouth just enough for Cordelia and Eleanor to peek outside. They saw Kristoff House sitting atop Sea Cliff Avenue a few more bounding steps away.

More rockets collided with Fat Jagger’s back as he reached the house. He fell to his knees on the huge lawn next to Kristoff House, groaning in pain.

“Spit us into the attic, Fat Jagger!” Eleanor screamed, tears pouring down her face now.

She knew Fat Jagger was dying. Her only hope of saving him was if her plan worked. But the problem was, now that they were actually here, she was less convinced than ever that it actually would. It was a long shot, and she knew it.

Fat Jagger gently poked a hole into the peaked roof of Kristoff House with his massive index finger. He bent forward slightly and spat the contents of his mouth into the attic. Then he slumped backwards into a cross-legged sitting position like a small child getting ready for story time, exhausted and breathing heavily and barely able to keep his eyes open. But he had done it; he’d finally saved the Walkers.

Fat Jagger smiled triumphantly, breathed his last breath, and then slumped forward on to the driveway, his face crushing a police cruiser like it was made of paper.