Mister B. Gone. Clive Barker
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Название: Mister B. Gone
Автор: Clive Barker
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Ужасы и Мистика
isbn: 9780007303304
isbn:
Behind me, close behind me, were Cawley and his men.
I ran for the trees, fearing that if I attempted the slope one of my tormentors could be quicker and catch up with me before I reached the ridge. Within a few strides I had reached the slim young trees that bordered the forest and began to weave between them, my tails lashing furiously left and right as I ran.
I had the satisfaction of hearing a note of disbelief in Cawley’s voice as he yelled:
“No, no! I can’t lose him now! I won’t! I won’t! Move your bones, you imbeciles, or I’ll crack open somebody’s skull!”
By now I had passed through the young growth and was running between far older trees, their immense girth and the knotty thicket that grew between them concealing me ever more thoroughly. Soon, if I was cautious, I’d lose Cawley and his cohort, if I hadn’t already done so.
I found a tree of immense girth, its branches so weighed down by the summer’s bounty of leaves and blossoms that they drooped to meet the bushes that grew all around it. I took shelter behind the tree, and listened. My pursuers were suddenly silent, which was discomforting. I held my breath, listening for even the slightest sound that would give me a clue to their whereabouts. I didn’t like what I heard: voices whispering from at least two directions. Cawley had divided up his gang it seemed, so as to come at me from several directions at once. I took a breath, and set off again, pausing every few steps to listen for my pursuers. They weren’t gaining on me, nor was I losing them. Confident that I was not going to escape him, Cawley began to call out to me.
“Where’d you think you’re running to, you piece of filth? You’re not getting away from me. I can smell your demon dung stench a mile away. You hear me? There’s no place you can go where I won’t come after you, treading on your two tails, you little freak. I’ve got buyers who’ll pay good coins for your whole skeleton with those tails of yours, all wired up so they stand proud. You are going to make me a nice fine profit, when I catch up with you.”
The fact that I could hear Cawley’s voice so close, and imagined that I knew his whereabouts, made me careless. In listening to him so intently I lost my grasp of where I’d heard the others coming from, and suddenly the Pox lunged out of the shadows. Had he not made the error of announcing that he had me captured before his huge hands had actually caught hold of me, I would have been his captive. But his boast came a few precious seconds too early, and I had time to duck beneath his plagued hand, stumbling back through the thicket as he came in blundering pursuit.
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