"Tim Lebbon - The Origin Of Truth" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lebbon Tim)

The Origin of Truth
by Tim Lebbon


They were stuck in a traffic queue. There was nowhere they could go. They
couldn't help but see the melting man.

Doug wanted to turn around, cover his daughter's eyes and hide the sight from
her innocent mind. But she had seen stuff just as bad over the last couple of
days, and she would probably see a lot worse in the future. He could no longer
shield her from the truth. In a normal world, it was only right that his
concern translated into action, but the world today was so different from last
week. Normal was a word that had lost its meaning.

Besides, she was fascinated.

There were nine television screens in the shop window, and all of them showed
the same picture: the man sitting propped outside a baker's, a split bag by
his side, crusty rolls and ice slices scattered across the hot pavement. His
legs had disappeared from the knees down. He was watching the process, his
face stretched in surpriseтАФeyebrows raised, jaw lowered, brow furrowedтАФas his
limbs turned to gas. The view was being captured by a telescopic lens mounted
in a helicopter. The picture was hazy and shaky. The ultimate in victim TV,
thought Doug. Somewhere in the north of France this man was dying. And here,
now, in London, they were watching him.

"Nobody touch the windows," Doug said, even though he had locked them using
his own master control. "And keep the cylinder open." There were three
compressed air cylinders on the back seat next to Gemma. One had already run
out, the second had been opened for several minutes.

"What about when they run out, Dad?" Gemma said sensibly. Damn her, she was so
sensible. "What then? Will the air come in from outside?"

"It already is," Lucy-Anne muttered from the passenger seat.

Doug glared at his wife but she did not turn, did not register his attention.

"It won't, honey," he said instead. "The pressure inside will keep it out."

"But what if those things can crawl?"

There was no answer to that, so Doug did not attempt one. Instead he glanced
at the man on the screens, saw that his stomach was already possessed of a
sick, fluid motion. He leant on the horn. "Get a bloody move on." He wanted
Gemma to see as little of this as possible.

"If they were here, honey, we'd know it by now." Lucy-Anne sighed. "They'd
have started on the car."