[The Unforgiven]

Ну знаете ли!

The man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed.
The desert was the apotheosis of all deserts, huge, standing to the sky for what might have been parsecs in all directions. White; blinding; waterless; without feature save for the faint, cloudy haze of the mountains which sketched themselves on the horizon and the devil-grass which brought sweet dreams, nightmares, death. An ocassional tombstone sign poited the way, for once the drifted track that cur its way through the thick curst of alkali had been a highway and coaches had followed it. The world had moved on sinсe then. The world had emptied.

Вот это - Стивен Кинг.