Название: Volumes 3 and 4 - Slawter/Bec
Автор: Darren Shan
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Детская проза
isbn: 9780007504510
isbn:
Tump and Chuda head for the D workshops. The huge warehouse dominates the northern part of Slawter. I haven’t spent much time up here—no point, since access to the workshops is strictly prohibited. As Tump and Chuda show their passes to a security guard on the western door – one of four doors leading into the warehouse – I hang back and take a long look at the building.
Three storeys high, 70 or 80 metres wide, maybe 120 metres long. Large, unplastered block walls. A flat roof. No windows. Grey and featureless, apart from a big red D painted on the wall above the door. A small guard’s hut to the right of the entrance.
I’d love to have a look inside, at the monster costumes and puppets. A small part of me still believes the demon was real. If I could check out the costumes perhaps it would help convince me of the truth. But hardly anyone is allowed to enter the hallowed halls of the D workshops. Even Dervish has only seen a small section of the complex.
I wait impatiently for Tump and Chuda to come out. Then I figure, stuff them! I’m through with this crap. I decide to find Bill-E and hang out with him for the rest of the afternoon. But before departing, I wander around the warehouse on the off chance that one of the doors is open, its guard asleep in his hut. That won’t happen, of course, but I might as well give it a shot while I’m here.
The guard on the southern door studies me suspiciously as I approach. Though he doesn’t openly carry any weapons, it wouldn’t surprise me if he had a gun hidden on him somewhere. I smile politely and don’t stray any closer. Walk to the eastern end and turn left. The door on this side is shut too and although the guard’s in his hut, he isn’t asleep—I spot him through the window as I walk past, leafing through a magazine with pictures of tanks on the cover.
I reach the northern end and turn left again. The guard here is standing next to the door, leaning against the wall. He smiles as I go past. I think about stopping to chat, maybe try to blag my way inside, but his smile isn’t that inviting.
Back to the western end. Heading south, thinking about where Bill-E might be. As I come up to the guard’s hut, the door to the workshops opens. I hear Tump’s voice and stop behind the hut, where he and Chuda can’t see me, to wait until they pass.
“…not going to like it,” Tump is booming.
“They’re not meant to like it,” Chuda replies in a much softer voice.
“But the boy will be hard to keep quiet. They’re so close to each other. Maybe we should take them both.”
“One will be enough,” Chuda says. “Now all we have to…”
Their voices fade. I remain where I am, frowning, wondering who and what they were talking about.
→The next day, Kik goes missing.
Kuk turns up for class by himself, looking lost. “Have any of you seen Kik?” he asks, eyes darting around the room as if his twin sister might be hiding behind a desk. “I can’t find her. I don’t know where she is. Kik? Are you here?”
Miss Jaun sits the agitated Kuk down, tries to soothe his nerves and coaxes the story out of him. It’s not complicated. He woke this morning and Kik’s bed was empty. He couldn’t find her. Their dad wasn’t too concerned – said she’d probably gone for a walk – but Kuk smelt a rat immediately.
“We don’t go anywhere without telling each other. She wouldn’t have slipped out without saying anything.”
“Maybe she just needed to be alone for a while,” Miss Jaun suggests.
“We don’t like being alone,” Kuk says, shaking his head vigorously. “Alone is bad. Alone is scary.”
When Miss Jaun fails to calm Kuk’s nerves, she calls security and asks a guard if he can put the word out to look for Kik. “It’s no big deal,” she tells him. “We’d just like to know where she is.”
Class proceeds as normal, except for Kuk, who fidgets behind his desk, eyes wide and searching, staring out the window. He unnerves the rest of us. Even Bo is discomfited by him and remains quiet, no jokes or digs.
Towards the end of class, Miss Jaun summons the guard again. He says nobody has seen Kik but they’re still looking.
I raise a hand. “Have you tried the D workshops?” I ask innocently.
The guard frowns. “She wouldn’t be there.”
“She might have snuck in.”
The guard grins. “Into the D? I don’t think so. Even I haven’t been inside—I don’t have clearance.”
“But she might be there,” I insist. I’m holding a steel ballpoint pen, gripping it tight, remembering the conversation I overheard yesterday, Tump saying “the boy will be hard to keep quiet”.
“I’ll check with the guys who were on duty this morning,” the guard says, rolling his eyes slightly. “If they’ve seen her, I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks.”
The guard leaves. Class ends. Kuk hurries out to search for his sister.
“What was that about the D warehouse?” Bill-E asks, hanging back.
“Nothing. I just thought they might not have looked there.”
Bill-E squints suspiciously. “I know you too well, Grubbs Grady,” he says in a bad Bela Lugosi accent. “You wouldn’t have said something like that without a reason. What are you hiding from me?”
I consider telling him what I heard Tump Kooniart say. But I’m still smarting from my previous humiliation. I don’t want to reveal my fears, only for Kik to turn up, leaving me looking like a paranoid maniac.
“It’s nothing,” I say, unclenching my fist to lay my pen down. “Let’s…”
Grey liquid drips from my hands on to the table. Bill-E pulls a face. “What’s that?” he asks. “It looks like mercury.”
I don’t reply. I’m staring at the liquid, the last few drops dripping from my fingers, black ink bubbling on my palms. It’s the remains of the pen. The steel ballpoint which I was holding.
I melted it.
→Night falls. Kik hasn’t been seen all day. Kuk’s not the only one worried about her now. Her father’s frantic. The search has intensified. The security forces have been deployed in earnest. Davida even suspended shooting so everyone could join the search parties and help.
I’m with a group exploring the eastern end of town, going through all the real buildings, checking behind the façades of the fakes. Trying to focus on the search. Trying not to think about the pen and how I melted it. But I can’t not think about it. There could be a scientific explanation. But I’m certain the melting had nothing to do СКАЧАТЬ