"Guy N. Smith - Night Of The Crabs 1 - Night of the Crabs" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith Guy N)

They say the bathing there is superb.'
'We'll go tomorrow,' Ian promised solemnly and began steering his fiancee in
the direction of Davy Jones's Locker, a cave-like caf6 overlooking the
harbour.

Saturday dawned with those same cloudless blue skies and blazing sunshine. Ian
and Julie were grateful for the coolness of the open 1949 red MG as it glided
along the narrow coast roads.

After about twenty minutes Ian slowed down as they approached the small
village of Llanbedr, and noticed a sign off to the left which read 'Mochras'.

That's Welsh for Shell Island,' he shouted above the roar of the engine, and
then they were turning off down an even narrower road. Soon the tarmac gave
way to rough shale, and they could see the tide already lapping at the edges
of the causeway.

'What's that?' Julie pointed to some buildings and grass runways which were
cordoned off by extensive barbed-wire fencing, almost like some concentration
camp from the last war.

'War Department,' Tan said as he slowed down. 'Uncle Cliff told me all about
it when he heard we were coming here. It's a pilot-less aircraft base. See
those small planes over there? Well, they fly them by remote control. All very
hush-hush, though. You'd need a WD pass in triplicate to get even as far as
the first check-point! Uncle Cliff said some lads who were camping on Shell
Island went on an exploration trip one night and ran into the guards. They
nearly got shot, and then had to undergo an extensive interrogation before
they were allowed to leave with severe warnings ringing in their ears!'

'It sounds awfully creepy.' Julie shuddered in spite of the warm sunshine. 'I
hope we'll be away from here before dark!'

'No need to worry about that place,' Ian saw the water across the road ahead
of them, reduced his speed still more, and drove slowly on to Shell Island
itself. 'You'll forget that place even exists when you see the real beauty of
Shell Island!'

Shell Island was a veritable maze of narrow roads, with ample parking places.
Everywhere tents were pitched as campers made the most of the unexpected heat
wave, A signpost stated that the South End lay to the left, and the North End
to the right.

Ian swung the steering-wheel hard over to the left, noting the sign guiding
them to the bathing beaches. Half a mile further on he turned off the road,
and parked the car on the top of a steep rise which afforded them a view of
sand-dunes and an extensive golden beach beneath.

'Isn't it marvellous!' Julie breathed, the welcome stiffening breeze ruffling
her auburn hair. 'All these people camping here - yet we've almost got the