A sudden plan caught north face outlet hold in his mind
Then, as he turned the corner with a screech Of clinging tires, he couldn't hold back the gasp. They were all in front of his house, waiting. A sound of helpless terror filled his throat. He didn't want to die. He might have thought about it, even contemplated north face uk it. But he didn't want to die. Not like this. Now he saw them all turn their white faces at the sound of the motor. Some more of them came running out of the open garage and his teeth ground together in impotent fury. What a stupid, brainless way to die!
Now he saw them start running straight toward the station wagon, a line of them across the street. And; suddenly, he knew he couldn't stop. He pressed down on the accelerator, and in a moment the car went plowing through them, knocking three of them aside like tenpins. He felt the car frame jolt as it struck the bodies. Their screaming white faces went flashing by his window, their cries chilling his blood. Now they were behind and he saw in the rear-view mirror that they were all pursuing him. A sudden plan caught north face outlet hold in his mind, and impulsively he slowed down, even braking, until the speed of the car fell to thirty, then twenty miles an hour. He looked back and saw them gaining, saw their grayish-white faces approaching, their dark eyes fastened to his car, to him. Suddenly he twitched with shock as a snarl sounded nearby and, jerking his head around, he saw the crazed face of Ben Cortman beside the car.
Instinctively his foot jammed down on the gas pedal, but his other foot slipped off the clutch, and with a neck-snapping north face jackets jolt the station wagon jumped forward and stalled. Sweat broke out on his forehead as he lunged forward feverishly to press the button. Ben Cortman clawed in at him. With a snarl he shoved the cold white hand aside. "Neville, Neville!" Ben Cortman reached in again, his hands like claws cut from ice. Again Neville He shoved down the gas pedal all the way and the station wagon jumped forward, racing up the block.
He wheeled it around the corner at fifty miles an hour, gunned the north face up the short block to Cimarron, and turned right again. His breath caught. There was no one in sight on his lawn. There was still a chance, then. He'd have to let the station wagon go, though; there was no time to put it in the garage. He jerked the car to the curb and shoved the door open. As he raced around the edge of the car he heard the billowing cry of their approach around the corner. He'd have to take a chance on locking the garage.
lf he didn't, they might destroy the generator; they couldn't have had time to do it already. His footsteps pounded up the driveway to the garage. pushed aside the hand and jabbed at the starter north face sale button, his body shaking helplessly. Behind, he could hear them all screaming excitedly as they came closer to the car. The motor coughed into life again as he felt Ben Cortman's long nails rake across his cheek. "Neville!"
