THE BADDEST VILLAINS - James Bond Edition. Ian Fleming

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СКАЧАТЬ Honey. It had to be done. He was right on top of us. Come on, let’s get going.’ He took her roughly by the arm and thrust her away from the place and out into the main stream, only stopping when they had reached the open river at the beginning of the mangrove tunnel.

      The landscape was empty again. Bond glanced at his watch. It had stopped at three o’clock. He looked at the westering sun. It might be four o’clock now. How much farther had they to go? Bond suddenly felt tired. Now he’d torn it. Even if the shot hadn’t been heard – and it would have been well muffled by the man’s body and by the mangroves – the man would be missed when the others rendezvoused, if Quarrel’s guess was right, at the river mouth to be taken off to the launch. Would they come back up the river to look for the missing man? Probably not. It would be getting dark before they knew for certain that he was missing. They’d send out a search party in the morning. The dogs would soon get the body. Then what?

      The girl tugged at his sleeve. She said angrily, ‘It’s time you told me what all this is about! Why’s everybody trying to kill each other? And who are you? I don’t believe all this story about birds. You don’t take a revolver after birds.’

      Bond looked down into the angry, wide-apart eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Honey. I’m afraid I’ve got you into a bit of a mess. I’ll tell you all about it this evening when we get to the camp. It’s just bad luck you being mixed up with me like this. I’ve got a bit of a war on with these people. They seem to want to kill me. Now I’m only interested in seeing us all off the island without anyone else getting hurt. I’ve got enough to go on now so that next time I can come back by the front door.’

      ‘What do you mean? Are you some sort of a policeman? Are you trying to send this Chinaman to prison?’

      ‘That’s about it,’ Bond smiled down at her. ‘At least you’re on the side of the angels. And now you tell me something. How much farther to the camp?’

      ‘Oh, about an hour.’

      ‘Is it a good place to hide? Could they find us there easily?’

      ‘They’d have to come across the lake or up the river. It’ll be all right so long as they don’t send their dragon after us. He can go through the water. I’ve seen him do it.’

      ‘Oh well,’ said Bond diplomatically, ‘let’s hope he’s got a sore tail or something.’

      The girl snorted. ‘All right, Mr Know-all,’ she said angrily. ‘Just you wait.’

      Quarrel splashed out of the mangroves. He was carrying a rifle. He said apologetically, ‘No harm ’n havin’ anudder gun, cap’n. Looks like us may need hit.’

      Bond took it. It was a U.S. Army Remington Carbine, .300. These people certainly had the right equipment. He handed it back.

      Quarrel echoed his thoughts. ‘Dese is sly folks, cap’n. Dat man mus’ of come sneakin’ down soffly behind de udders to ketch us comin’ out after de dawgs had passed. He sho is a sly mongoose, dat Doctor feller.’

      Bond said thoughtfully, ‘He must be quite a man.’ He shrugged away his thoughts. ‘Now let’s get going. Honey says there’s another hour to the camp. Better keep to the left bank so as to get what cover we can from the hill. For all we know they’ve got glasses trained on the river.’ Bond handed his gun to Quarrel who stowed it in the sodden knapsack. They moved off again with Quarrel in the lead and Bond and the girl walking together.

      They got some shade from the bamboo and bushes along the western bank, but now they had to face the full force of the scorching wind. They splashed water over their arms and faces to cool the burns. Bond’s eyes were bloodshot with the glare and his arm ached intolerably where the gun butt had struck. And he was not looking forward to his dinner of soaking bread and cheese and salt pork. How long would they be able to sleep? He hadn’t had much last night. It looked like the same ration again. And what about the girl? She had had none. He and Quarrel would have to keep watch and watch. And then tomorrow. Off into the mangrove again and work their way slowly back to the canoe across the eastern end of the island. It looked like that. And sail the following night. Bond thought of hacking a way for five miles through solid mangroves. What a prospect! Bond trudged on, thinking of M.’s ‘holiday in the sunshine’. He’d certainly give something for M. to be sharing it with him now.

      The river grew narrower until it was only a stream between the bamboo clumps. Then it widened out into a flat marshy estuary beyond which the five square miles of shallow lake swept away to the other side of the island in a ruffled blue-grey mirror. Beyond, there was the shimmer of the airstrip and the glint of the sun on a single hangar. The girl told them to keep to the east and they worked their way slowly along inside the fringe of bushes.

      Suddenly Quarrel stopped, his face pointing like a gun-dog’s at the marshy ground in front of him. Two deep parallel grooves were cut into the mud, with a fainter groove in the centre. They were the tracks of something that had come down from the hill and gone across the marsh towards the lake.

      The girl said indifferently, ‘That’s where the dragon’s been.’

      Quarrel turned the whites of his eyes towards her.

      Bond walked slowly along the tracks. The outside ones were quite smooth with an indented curve. They could have been made by wheels, but they were vast – at least two feet across. The centre track was of the same shape but only three inches across, about the width of a motor tyre. The tracks were without a trace of tread, and they were fairly fresh. They marched along in a dead straight line and the bushes they crossed were squashed flat as if a tank had gone over them.

      Bond couldn’t imagine what kind of vehicle, if it was a vehicle, had made them. When the girl nudged him and whispered fiercely ‘I told you so’, he could only say thoughtfully, ‘Well, Honey, if it isn’t a dragon, it’s something else I’ve never seen before.’

      Farther on, she tugged urgently at his sleeve. ‘Look,’ she whispered. She pointed forward to a big clump of bushes beside which the tracks ran. They were leafless and blackened. In the centre there showed the charred remains of birds’ nests. ‘He breathed on them,’ she said excitedly.

      Bond walked up to the bushes and examined them. ‘He certainly did,’ he admitted. Why had this particular clump been burned? It was all very odd.

      The tracks swerved out towards the lake and disappeared into the water. Bond would have liked to follow them but there was no question of leaving cover. They trudged on, wrapped in their different thoughts.

      Slowly the day began to die behind the sugar-loaf, and at last the girl pointed ahead through the bushes and Bond could see a long spit of sand running out into the lake. There were thick bushes of sea-grape along its spine and, halfway, perhaps a hundred yards from the shore, the remains of a thatched hut. It looked a reasonably attractive place to spend the night and it was well protected by the water on both sides. The wind had died and the water was soft and inviting. How heavenly it was going to be to take off their filthy shirts and wash in the lake, and, after the hours of squelching through the mud and stench of the river and the marsh, be able to lie down on the hard dry sand!

      The sun blazed yellowly and sank behind the mountain. The day was still alive at the eastern tip of the island, but the black shadow of the sugar-loaf was slowly marching across the lake and would soon reach out and kill that too. The frogs started up, louder than in Jamaica, until the thick dusk was shrill with them. Across the lake a giant bull frog began to drum. The eerie sound was something between a tom-tom and an ape’s roar. It sent out short messages that were suddenly throttled. Soon it fell silent. СКАЧАТЬ