James Herbert The Survivor

[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

Page 118
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
He pushed at the door and it swung wide. And from the darkness, a smallish
body threw itself at him, limbs flailing, terrified screeching noises emitting
from a tightened throat.
The impact knocked Griggs-Meade back, but he clutched at the struggling figure
and managed to grab an arm above the elbow. He shook the boy violently to
control him and looked down into the pale face. Dragging the boy out into the
yard in order to distinguish his features more clearly, he felt the body grow
rigid in his arms. He thought he recognised the face - the name would come to
him later - but the boy's condition was hardly conducive to questioning. His
mouth was frozen open and his eyes looked past the Head Master at the door
he'd just come through.
His face glistened wetly as though he'd been crying, and now fitful whimpers
escaped from him. Griggs-Meade realised that whatever had frightened his pupil
was still back there in the chapel. He began to drag him back towards the
door, furious at the breach of rules, wondering just why the boy was out of
bounds and who else was in there.
Spelling understood the Head Master's intention and began struggling to free
himself, his broken whining turning into screams of refusal, falling to his
knees to hinder further progress. 'Stand up, boy!' Griggs-Meade thundered at
him, but the pupil had become a hysterical, blubbering wreck by now. He was
torn between leaving the boy in such a fearful state, or investigating the
reason behind it. He looked up at the chapel and made his choice. Leaving
Spelling lying rolled up in a ball on the ground, he dashed through the dark
entrance and up the wooden staircase.
The coldness hit him as soon as he entered the ante-chapel. He felt as if he
had suddenly plunged into a gigantic freezer. Hardly pausing, he rushed to the
entrance of the main chapel, oblivious of the darkness, full of anger for
anyone who would dare violate his beloved chapel.
file:///F|/rah/James%20Herbert/Herbert_James_-_The_Survivor__(proofed).htm
(198 of 227) [5/21/03 10:08:39 PM]
Herbert, James - The Survivor UC FR
And there he stopped, unable to comprehend the sight before him.
It appeared that the vast hall was filled with dark, moving forms; forms that
wavered and faded, undulating in a constantly changing mass, the eerie light
from the enormous coloured windows confusing rather than accentuating the
shapes.
When he tried to concentrate on one figure, or a particular group of them, it
seemed to disappear and form again after he had shifted his gaze. An
overwhelming noise hit him, a bustling, howling sound, tumultuous in its
overall effect. Listened to individually, however, the sounds were only
whispers. Coarse and parched. Burnt voices.
In the dimness at the front of the chapel, before the altar, he could just
make out a white-coated figure through the twisting throng. It seemed to be
clutching two smaller bodies in a tight embrace. Fascinated, and horrified,
the Head Master walked forward into the main chapel, the fascination drawing
him in, the horror urging him to run away. He resisted the latter because he
realised the figure in white held two boys in his arms - undoubtedly his
pupils. His premonition of danger earlier that day had been correct; he did
not understand what was happening, but he knew the boys - the College - was in
mortal danger.
Griggs-Meade was neither a brave man nor a coward. He was merely governed by
an overriding sense of duty.
The noise in the chapel was reduced to a hushed silence at his approach, as
the hazy shapes turned to look in his direction. They seemed to waft away
before him, clearing a path down the long, wide aisle so that he could have a
clear view of the white figure and the two boys locked in its tight embrace.
Some inner sense told him not to look at these spectral shapes as he passed
through them; the horror of their nebulous features would be too much - he
Page 119
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
would be forced to turn and flee.
But the stench that assailed his nostrils could not be denied. It was the
smell of rotting death.
The sniggering, cruel chuckle ahead allowed him to fix his attention on the
white-
coated figure. Even from this distance the man seemed vaguely familiar. Could
it file:///F|/rah/James%20Herbert/Herbert_James_-_The_Survivor__(proofed).htm
(199 of 227) [5/21/03 10:08:39 PM]
Herbert, James - The Survivor UC FR
be? He looked very much like the photographer who had done so much work for
the College over the last decade. What was his name? He had a studio along the
High Street.
"What are you doing here?' Griggs-Meade demanded to know, his voice much
stronger than he actually felt 'Why are you holding those boys?'
The man's low snigger made the Head Master shudder. It wasn't human.
'Answer me! Why are you here?' Griggs-Meade tried to appear angry. He almost
succeeded.
Suddenly, the snigger became a cackle and the man threw out his arms, but
still held the boys by their throats. The Head Master stopped in his tracks as
he saw the boys eyes begin to bulge, their cries cut off when their tongues
protruded from their mouths as vice-like fingers began to squeeze the life
from them.
'Stop that! Stop that!' the Head Master shouted, but he could only watch in
horror as the man slowly raised his arms with super-normal strength, still
holding them out sideways, lifting the two struggling boys off their feet. He
was hanging them with his own hands. The choking sounds the boys made as their
faces began to flush a deep purple galvanised the Head Master into action.
With a cry of rage, and fear, he launched himself forward.
But then an astounding thing happened which made him fall back with shock. The
figure in the white smock-coat suddenly burst into flames.
First the head, a fiery ball that simultaneously laughed and screamed in pain,
the mouth a gaping hole amid roasting popping flesh. The hair disappeared
instantly in a bright flare and the eyes slowly extended down the cheeks
hanging by slender threads blackened by the blaze. The fire moved along the
outstretched arms and down the body, so the man became a burning cross of
howling anguish and perverse, mocking laughter. The flames reached the two
boys at the same time and engulfed their heads. Their screams meant nothing to
the sprawling Head Master, for he was already rigid with shock, far beyond any
point emotion could reach.
file:///F|/rah/James%20Herbert/Herbert_James_-_The_Survivor__(proofed).htm
(200 of 227) [5/21/03 10:08:39 PM]
Herbert, James - The Survivor UC FR
The interior of the vast hall was now brightly lit by the flames, patterns of
red and yellow dancing on the walls, the four kneeling child-like statues on
the altar apparently smiling in the flickering light. The shadowy figures
filling the chapel crouched and fell away from the burning trio and, as
Griggs-Meade looked slowly around in emotionless wonder, he saw the near
invisible tongues of flame lapping at the transparent bodies, saw the writhing [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

Linki