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

wouldn't be satisfied until you were up there yourself and saw at first hand
the state of the congestion. Irey felt sleepy. It was a good job she hadn't
got the children with her. They would have been bored and squabbling by now.

And it would be the first thing they would tell Alan as soon as they got home.
Which started her feeling guilty again. She wasn't cut out for affairs.

Irey Wall woke with a start, almost clawed her way panic-stricken out of that
hot sticky slumber, gasped with pain as the hairs on the back of her neck,
which had become stuck to the upholstery, were suddenly wrenched free. Guilt
and fear, clutching Keith's hand because it still happened to be resting on
her bare leg, possibly an inch or two higher than it had been when she had
last been aware of it.

They were bumping their way across a type of rough causeway and way to her
left were stretches of ominous steel mesh fencing topped with barbed wire.
Beyond that were a series of squat buildings with tiny windows. Some planes,
small ones, stood on a short tarmac runway.

'Where . . . where are we?' She glanced about her, fearful for one terrible
second that her eyes might rest upon the familiar outline of her own husband,
his finger pointing accusingly at her. Oh, for Christ's sake, Alan, just keep
out of this will you. Go catch yourself a big fish.

'Shell Island.' Keith Baxter sounded weary. 'As I said, the milling millions
didn't have it in mind to come here today. Apart from those half-dozen cars in
front of us they've all gone on down the road to Barmouth to pay homage to
their honey-voiced DJ. There'll be a few campers on the island, doubtless, but
I reckon we'll have all the peace we need. And it isn't midday yet.'

Irey automatically turned her head away when a youth selling tickets
approached them as they drove into the farmyard with its campers' shop and
toilets. God, just suppose she saw somebody she knew! A thousand-to-one chance
but you never knew.

Keith swung the car off to the left, followed the tarmac track up a steep bank
to where it levelled out. From here they had a view of the island itself,
acres of rough grass with surprisingly little litter in spite of the number of
gaily coloured tents which dotted the scene. The grass was already turning
brown after a month of prolonged sunshine, the snaking narrow tarmacadam
creating its own mirages.

'We'll go ...' an escalating whine reached a deafening peak and Irey clutched
at her companion in sudden terror. A diving plane, almost as though it was
bent on attacking them Kamikazi-style, suddenly turned off at the last moment,
arcing its way towards that sinister compound with its shimmering runway which
they had passed earlier. They followed its trail of smoke, saw it wheel,
check, then land with unerring precision. A smoking silent steel bird that had
hunted the skies and now returned to its eyrie.