"Guy N. Smith - Sabat 3 - Cannibal Cult" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith Guy N)

bedside trimphone. He groped for it again. It was like a wriggling serpent
trying to escape him, but in the end he caught it, dragged it back. Invisible
fingers tried to tear it from his grasp but he managed to hold on.

Trying to dial, the spring so strong that he could hardly move the digits. Any
number, it didn't matter. Got to tell them... warn them.., about Louis
Nevillonl
Sabat almost fainted, felt his chilled slippery fingers losing their hold on
the handset. It fell, swung to and fro below the bed like some taunting
pendulum, evil to good and back to evil. He couldn't muster the strength to
try and catch it again. He moaned aloud.

A pause, then a sound apart from the rasping of his laboured lungs. Metallic,
so divorced from this atmosphere of enshrouding evil. It took Sabat some
seconds to work out what it was; and then he knew. The phone was ringing out
at the other end, some anonymous number.

A voice. It wasn't Quentin's nor any of the others; a jumble of meaningless
words that did not register in his numbed brain, becoming angry, impatient.
Shouting.

Sabat tried to speak, tried to warn them about Louis Nevillon but all he
managed were animal-like gasps and grunts. They were trying to shout him down,
a whispering noise like the hissing of angry demons. Weakening still further,
feeling his senses slipping from him, knowing that they had beaten him in the
end.

The phone went silent at approximately the same time as Sabat lost
consciousness and rolled off the bed on to the floor.




CHAPTER THREE



LIGHTS so bright that they seared Sabat's eyeballs even though his eyes were
still closed; a sickly sour-sweat smell that almost had him vomiting.

He lay motionless, tried to work out where he was, what had happened. The
darkness that had hidden so many evil entities was gone and in its place was
harsh blinding light. He knew that he was in a bed but it did not seem as
comfortable as his own, like wooden boards beneath him.

After a lengthy mental struggle he came to the conclusion that he was in a
hospital. Somehow he had been saved, his SOS call had got through in spite of
their efforts.

He opened his eyes a fraction, squinted. It was a hospital ward all right and