"Brian Lumley - Necroscope 10 - Lost Years 02 - Resurgence" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lumley Brian)

'Forherbody?
тАв e.
Ys'
'Only for that? 'And for her life.' 'my?
'I can't leave a tndl. Can't leave any tracks.' 'Tracks?
'I mean, she would talk.' 'You'vedoneitbefore...'
(Butsinceitwasn'taquestion,therewasnorequirementtoanswerthatone.)'Haveyoudoneitbefore?
тАв e.
Ys' ,
'Howoften? I
'Three times.' p
'Murder? (A question this time).
'Not for the sake of murder, but for the sake of my needs.. .at first,
 anyway.'
'You've killed innocents? "They weren't innocent! Shaking their backsides, flashing their [
tits! They were asking for it!' And att the while the yellow headlights expanding, coming ever closer;
and the darkness behind them and surrounding them growing darker
yet... ,
'When? |
'Soon. When it snows good and deep.' \
'Where? \
(Hesitation. He shouldn't be telling this, not even in a dream, not
even to himself. But he couldn 't refuse to answer). TH do it where she
lives.''How?
'Ill wait for her, and do it in the snow.' A long pause, and then: 'Ofyour own free witt, aye. But I warn you: rtts one is not for
you. To
pursue and take her witt place you in extreme jeopardy! But if you, must
- so be it..." Then: The headlights sweeping upon him, expanding to envelop him! The
darkness opening, as if to swallow him whole! A rumbling growl that
wasn't the thunder of an engine. And the headlights ...the headlights!
Not yellow butтАФ I
тАФRed?
The man gave his head a shake, snapped out of it He had been daydreaming, staring at his red torches where he'd rammed
their tubes into the soft snow walls. Staring as if hypnotized by them. Hypnotized? Had he been hypnotized by someone,
somewhere? He blinked, then issued a snort of self-derision.
Maybe he was losing it Maybe he was mad! (Well of course he was, had to be - a homicidal maniac!) But it didn't change
anything. Neither did his dream, already slipping away, fading into the mists of his twisted mind. Nothing had been changed. His
course was set He was going to do it
So be it!
Hidden in the shadow of the hillside, the Thing slid and tobogganed on her chest and belly down the slope of the saddle to
level ground. She was only fifty feet or so from the predator's lair now; his man's scent hung heavy in the sharp, otherwise clean
night air, which pulsed with his vibrations. He was a strong one, just as she remembered him. Good!
And his timing was perfect
Headlights on full beam sliced the night cut twin swaths through the silently falling snow, swung like searchlight beams
towards the hamlet across the frozen beck but without reaching it Myriads of drifting snowflakes diffused the light reducing its
penetrative power; likewise the sound of the taxi's engine, muffled by the snow. Maybe this was what the predator had been
dreaming of: the arrival of the taxi, its lights and the purr of its engine.
And out from his lair he crept invisible in a white nylon track-suit and parka, the hood zipped to the neck and his face hidden
behind a white stocking mask.
Meanwhile the taxi had slowed, turned, halted on the hard-standing; a female figure was getting out standing in the pale glow