"Guy N. Smith - Night Of The Crabs 2 - Crabs Moon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith Guy N)

'I seen 'em shortly after dawn this mornin', lady,' he leaned closer, his eyes
beginning to roll. 'A dozen of 'em, maybe more. I can't say 'cause I can't
count if there's more'n a few. But they came up out of the tide, lookin' for
food.'

'What came up out of the tide, Bartholomew?' Irey was feverishly trying to
fasten the clasp of her bra but it was proving an impossible task. 'Sharks,
like Jaws in the film?'

'Crabs!' Bartholomew spat the word out venomously.

'Crabs!' Irey repeated incredulously. 'But every stretch of coastline in
Britain has crabs.'

'Not the likes o' these,' there was an expression of terror on his hairy
features as he spread his arms wide, stretched to try and extend them even
further. 'Big 'uns. Bigger'n sheep. Big as cows.'

Something stopped her from contradicting him. Perhaps it was the look in his
eyes or maybe the way his voice died away to an unintelligible wheeze.

'I see,' was all she said and finding her T-shirt, pulled it on.

'I'm keepin' clear o' the tide,' he continued. 'And that ain't easy fer me,
'cause I'm a beachcomber.'

'Have you warned people?'

'Naw,' a contemptuous grunt. 'They wouldn'a listen if I did. They'll find out
though when the crabs come ashore again, as surely they will. I'm tellin' you
'cause . . . ' his eyes dropped back down to her thighs, reflecting
disappointment because her legs were closed tightly together now, 'cause I
like you. At least, I think I do.'

Irey almost lost her balance stepping into her skirt. Her pants could stay
wherever they were. 'Well, thank you for your warning, Bartholomew, it was
most kind of you. Now, I'll just go and see what's keeping my husband.'

'You do that, lady. And don't you get hangin' about Shell too long because
somethin' tells me them big crabs ain't gone too far out to sea.'

Irey was trembling as she stepped out on to the powdery path which ran through
the dunes. The sun was well into the western sky and beginning to dip. She
hadn't realised it was so late. It was sure to be seven o'clock; she must have
been asleep for hours.

From this topmost vantage point she scanned the length of the dunes and the
beach below. There were one or two holidaymakers playing ball on the sand, a
mongrel dog yapping excitedly amongst them. But nowhere could she see a figure