"James Herbert - The Survivor" - читать интересную книгу автора (Herbert James)

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 Herbert, James - The Survivor UC FR


He looked again, this tune shielding his eyes as much as he could with one hand.

It was a man! Coming away from the aeroplane! Away from the fire! It couldn't
be. No one had passed him. Yet no one could escape from a disaster like that. At
least, not on his own two legs! The old man squinted and peered more closely at
the figure. Even his suit seemed undamaged. It was dark, or was that just because
of the brightness behind? It looked like a uniform. The figure walked slowly and
easily towards him, away from the flames, away from the destroyed aircraft, away
from the dead.

The old man's vision began to swim before him and a lightness ran through his
head. Just before he fainted, he saw the figure stooping down towards him, one
hand outstretched.



Chapter 1



Keller drove the car steadily along Pococks Lane, resisting the impulse for speed,
trying to enjoy the multi-browns of autumn in the surrounding playing-fields. But
his mind rarely wandered far from his objective: the small town that lay not too far
ahead. He turned left into Windsor Road, crossed a small bridge then found
himself among the tall, dignified buildings of Eton College. He hardly paused to
admire them, driving on into the High Street where he stopped to get his bearings.
He still found it difficult to concentrate for too long.

Drawing away from the kerb again he continued on down the High Street until he
reached the bridge at the end, its iron posts preventing traffic from crossing it. He
turned right and drove past the burnt-out boathouses, and right again led him
towards the fields he sought. There was a more direct route avoiding the High
Street according to his map, but he had wanted to see more of the town itself. He
wasn't sure why.


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 Herbert, James - The Survivor UC FR


The policeman watched him park his midnight-blue Stag. Another one, he
thought. Another bloody sightseer. Maybe a souvenir hunter. The trouble they'd
had since the accident; mobs of 'em flocking to the scene of the crash. Ghouls. It
always happened after any major disaster - particularly with an air crash - they
turned out in their thousands to see the gore, blocking roads, getting in the way.