"Blinded" - читать интересную книгу автора (White Stephen)

FIVE

Louise had walked down the path to Crescent Bay from her flat on the cliff above the beach a hundred times. A thousand. She could have dodged the fat ropes of seaweed on the sand in her sleep. From where the shoreline started at the foot of the trail to the beginning of the rough rocks on the north end of the horseshoe cove wasn’t more than a few dozen steps. Carrying her old trainers in her hands, she crossed the area in seconds, careful to stay above the high-tide line. The beach had already yielded the day’s heat, and the sand that crept up between her toes was cool and dry.

She wondered what he had planned.

Something imaginative, she hoped. God, she needed a man to show some imagination.

That lad in Paris? The Australian? He hadn’t been bad. But it was all about the shot for him, not about the setup.

She needed someone to care about the setup, too. The match wasn’t just about the goal.

She’d checked her watch before she left her flat. He’d said seven-thirty. She hadn’t walked out her door until a quarter to eight. She knew she was worth waiting for. Whatever he had planned, she was worth waiting for.

And she was game.

She checked the Walkman in her hand and adjusted the headphones on her ears, waiting for his next words. His first words had been “Leave it running, now. The silence is part of the mystery. Follow my commands. And trust me. Do what I say.”

At the foot of the rocks she brushed the sand off her feet and pulled on her shoes, then scampered up the rocks toward the tide pools. Her favorite pool, the big one that was shaped like Maui, would be covered by the encroaching tide already. She hoped that in the recession between waves-she thought of it as the ocean’s inhale-she could maybe steal a quick glance at the cluster of urchins in the southeast corner of the pool.

She loved those urchins, though she couldn’t have said why.

“Up toward the pools. Do it without a flashlight, now. No peeking. Let yourself be surprised.” The voice in her ears, electronically distorted, made her smile. It was a nice touch.

She wasn’t carrying a torch; she didn’t need one here any more than she’d need one to find the loo in her flat in the dark. The night wasn’t totally black, but even if it were, she knew these rock paths like she knew the cabin of a 747. She could wander these cliffs at any tidal level without a map. She knew the path all the way from Crescent Bay to Emerald Bay. She could do it in a storm if she had to.

“Keep going, my lady. Don’t be impatient. You’ll find your reward. Soon, soon, soon.” The voice prodded her. “Look up. Look down. Look, look, look.”

Finally, she spotted a basket. An old-fashioned picnic basket. High up on a rock shelf, almost above her reach.

She pulled it down, flipped open the lid, and her heart soared just a little.

Meursault. God, she loved Meursault. Fresh gherkins. Pâté.Well,she thought,I’m not a vegan tonight.

She was late.But where is he?

She removed the cork from the bottle, poured herself a glass of wine, and nibbled on a gherkin as she watched the fluorescence of the nighttime waves crash higher and higher on the rocks above the pools, closer and closer to her perch.

“Lovely,” she said aloud. “Lovely.”

“The night will surprise you. Prepare,” the recorded voice murmured into her ears.

“It’s a good start,” she admitted out loud.

Sitting on the sharp edges of the jagged rocks was less than comfortable. She moved to a squatting position and began to wonder how on earth the goal was going to be scored without scarring one of them forever on the rock faces.

She smiled.It will be fun to find out.

“Open your blouse. Now!”

Ooooh. Urgency.

Okay, okay.Button by button, she did.

“Don’t turn around.”

Her chest pounded. She was having trouble catching her breath.

Less than a second later her feet were out from beneath her and something sharp and hard was surrounding her neck and her attempts at breathing were thwarted. Totally thwarted.

She struggled at the ligature. It didn’t help.

Moments later she didn’t even feel the cold chill of the Pacific as she spilled forward into the darkness.