gns.thegraveyardvultures-第10部分

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w　temple　is　ready。　Within　a　few　nights　we　shall　be　gathered　there　but　until　the　time　is　nigh　I　shall　not　make　our　destination　known。　It　is　too　dangerous。'
　　
　　'You　know　I　wouldn't　tell　anybody。'
　　
　　'I　trust　you　won't　for　should　I　even　suspect　that　you　have　talked　loosely　then　the　river　will　receive　its　second　corpse　within　a　matter　of　weeks！'
　　
　　Miranda　swallowed；　and　was　reminded　again　of　Sheila　Dowson's　fate。
　　
　　'But　there　is　an　enemy　in　our　midst；'　Royston's　voice　dropped　to　a　whisper　and　the　watching　Sabat　stiffened。　'I　have　seen　him　about　the　village　and　recognised　him　for　what　he　is；　a　black　vulture　who　avoids　contact　with　the　police　yet　is　sniffing　out　our　trail。　But　such　is　our　power　that　I　fear　him　not　and　he　will　be　destroyed。'
　　
　　Sabat　flinched；　debated　whether　or　not　to　return　immediately　to　his　physical　body　in　his　bedroom　at　the　'Dun　Cow'　for　that　was　his　Achilles　heel。　He　was　totally　helpless　there　should　they　discover　him　and　he　would　have　no　defence　against　an　attack。　Even　the　pentagram　would　be　unable　to　save　him　from　a　physical　assault　by　the　ungodly；　it　could　only　keep　evil　spirits　at　bay。　But　he　must　remain　here　a　short　while　longer；　try　to　find　out　where　the　coven　were　due　to　meet。　Maybe　he　should　follow　this　man　Royston　to　his　home。
　　
　　'We　are　on　the　verge　of　great　power；'　Royston　was　fully　dressed　now；　standing　over　the　naked　cowering　Miranda；　'because　we　have　done　what　many　half…hearted　covens　throughout　this　country　have　not　dared　to　do　。。。　we　gave　the　Master　a　dead　virgin　and　a　live　female　sacrifice。　He　accepted　both　and　he　will　reward　us　richly。　The　police　and　the　Church　are　powerless　to　stop　us。　We　are　his　chosen　ones；　do　not　forget　it。'
　　
　　Sabat　hesitated　as　the　big　man　hurried　downstairs。　Another　glance　at　Miranda　who　was　now　lying　full…length　on　the　bed　and　starting　to　sob；　trying　to　remember　where　he　had　seen　her　before。　On　the　astral；　memories　sometimes　came　more　easily；　unclouded　by　the　distractions　of　mortal　life。　A　dim　recollection　。。。　a　past　life　。。。　hazy　in　the　mists　of　endless　time。　Fleeting　snatches。　He　heard　the　enraged　cries　and　tauntings　of　a　mob；　smelled　choking　woodsmoke。
　　
　　And　at　that　moment　Sabat　knew　that　he　was　in　deadly　danger。
　　
　　He　abandoned　his　idea　of　following　Royston　and　fled　full　speed　from　the　house；　a　hunting　hawk　on　the　wing；　homeward　bound。　And　the　fear　within　him　was　mounting　for　the　stifling　smell　of　acrid　smoke　was　being　stronger　by　the　second！
　　
　　As　he　approached　the　'Dun　Cow'　he　saw　the　flames；　shooting　tongues　of　red　and　yellow　crackling　above　the　roof；　showering　sparks　high　into　the　sky　like　some　bizarre　firework　display。　It　seemed　to　draw　him；　a　fiery　whirlpool　sucking　him　down　into　its　blazing　inferno；　a　bird　with　folded　wings　plummeting。
　　
　　Dimly　he　was　aware　of　waking；　gasping　for　breath；　almost　choking　as　he　rolled　naked　out　of　bed　and　caught　the　chalice　with　his　foot；　sending　the　holy　water　gushing　across　the　bare　boards。　Somewhere　somebody　was　screaming。　Sabat　crossed　the　room；　unlocked　the　door　but　even　as　he　flung　it　open　the　heat　had　him　recoiling。　The　entire　landing　was　ablaze；　the　stairway　already　disintegrating　into　crumbling　fiery　struts。
　　
　　Sabat　closed　the　door；　leaned　back　against　it　and　tried　to　recollect　his　thoughts。　He　wasn't　going　to　panic；　that　was　why　household　fires　claimed　so　many　victims。　They　were　responsible；　of　course；　the　man　called　Royston　and　his　devilish　followers　of　the　Left　Hand　Path。　They　had　been　one　move　ahead　of　him；　spotted　him　from　the　outset　and　were　determined　to　eliminate　him　as　quickly　as　possible。　Death　that　would　be　worse　than　death　because　Quentin　would　trap　his　soul　in　the　dark　void　of　Hades　for　eternity。　The　flames　were　just　the　beginning；　physical　death。
　　
　　Sabat　did　not　pray；　neither　did　he　curse。　Just　a　vow　of　vengeance　and　a　promise　to　himself　that　somehow　he　would　e　out　of　this　alive。　At　least　he　had　returned　to　his　body　in　time　。　。　。　but　only　just！
　　
　　The　flames　were　already　licking　at　the　door；　forcing　him　back　into　action。　A　few　moments　spent　in　dressing；　not　because　he　needed　his　clothes　but　because　there　were　certain　items　which　he　could　not　leave　behind。　He　stuffed　the　chalice　into　a　jacket　pocket　along　with　the　small　crucifix　and　those　vital　herbs；　felt　the　forting　weight　of　the　。38。　The　latter　might　be　handy　if　there　was　to　be　physical　contact　with　the　members　of　the　coven。　Given　the　opportunity　he　would　put　a　bullet　in　Royston's　brain。
　　
　　He　crossed　the　room　and　stared　down　from　the　window。　
　　
　　A　crowd　had　gathered　in　the　car…park；　many　with　dressing　gowns　and　coats　thrown　hastily　over　night　attire；　horror…stricken　faces　staring　up　at　him。　More　people　were　arriving；　villagers　rushing　to　the　scene　determined　not　to　miss　this　ghastly　spectacle；　a　highlight　in　their　sober　conventional　lives。　A　small　minority　hoped　secretly　to　witness　a　horrible　death；　see　a　fellow　human　with　the　flesh　on　his　body　burning；　melting　the　fat　like　beef　dripping。
　　
　　A　fiery　avalanche　as　some　rafters　collapsed　and　showered　burning　debris　in　front　of　the　window。　The　watchers　moved　back。　Then　came　a　flashing　blue　light；　eerie　as　it　was　reflected　on　the　leaping　yellow　and　orange；　a　banshee…like　wailing　and　a　scarlet　metallic　monster　was　easing　its　way　on　to　the　car…park'。　The　fire　brigade　had　arrived　but　Sabat　knew　they　were　too　late　to　reach　him。　The　verandah　below　his　window　was　a　mass　of　shooting　flames　and　there　was　no　way　the　firemen　were　going　to　put　a　ladder　across　it。
　　
　　He　turned　back　from　the　window　and　thought　for　a　moment　that　this　really　was　the　end；　there　was　a　roaring　in　his　ears　and　he　thought　he　could　hear　Quentin　laughing。　There's　no　way　out　for　you　this　time；　Mark！
　　
　　Suddenly　Sabat　had　a　brief　sensation　of　sea…sickness；　that　fleeting　moment　which　inexperienced　sailors　experience　when　a　ship　lurches　with　the　current；　a　giddiness　that　has　your　stomach　rolling　as　you　grab　the　nearest　obstacle　because　if　you　don't　you　fall。
　　
　　Sabat　grabbed　the　bed；　felt　it　beginning　to　move；　sliding　away　from　him。　But　that　was　impossible　。。。　a　splintering　of　timber　and　then　the　bed　was　tipping　up；　one　corner　wedged　firmly　in　a　hole　where　the　floorboards　had　collapsed。　He　rubbed　his　smarting　eyes；　saw　a　jagged　gap　about　a　foot　square　that　went　right　down　to　the　room　below　…　the　lounge　bar！　Ancient　wooden　beams　and　floorboards　had　cracked　under　the　strain　as　the　upper…storey　contracted　with　the　intense　heat。
　　
　　Sabat　saw　a　chance；　a　slim　one；　but　he　had　been　handed　a　slender　lifeline　and　did　not　hesitate。　He　got　his　back　to　the　wall；　both　feet　securely　wedged　on　the　tilted　headboard　of　the　old…fashioned　bed；　and　exerted　every　ounce　of　his　waning　strength。　Sweat　ran　down　his　face　in　rivulets；　bining　with　the　smoke　to　sting　his　eyes　so　that　he　could　not　see。　For　a　few　seconds　nothing　happened　and　then　with　a　rending　crash　the　front　of　the　bed　bulldozed　its　way　through　the　woodworm…riddled　fire…weakened　boards。　Sabat　lost　his　footing；　sprawled　headlong　and　when　he　opened　his　eyes　found　himself　staring　down　into　the　room　below。
　　
　　The　fire　was　restricted　at　the　moment　to　the　upper…storey　where　it　had　obviously　been　started；　already　it　was　beginning　to　eat　its　way　through　the　wall　from　the　adjoining　bedroom　so　that　the　heat　was　blistering　his　skin。　Frantically　he　stamped　with　his　feet　at　the　edges　of　the　hole　made　by　the　bed；　sent　slivers　of　snapped　wood　flying　down　below；　widening　the　hole。　And　then　he　jumped。
　　
　　Sabat　hit　the　carpeted　floor　and　roiled　over。　Blazing　debris　was　cascading　everywhere　and　a　ten…foot　beam　above　the　door　was　threatening　to　collapse　at　any　second。　He　leaped　for　the　door；　heard　a　bang　like　the　report　of　a　shotgun　and　even　as　he　felt　the　weling　rush　of　cool　night　air　on　his　overheated　body；　a　tremendous　blow　struck　him。　His　leap　became　a　stagger；　he　felt　his　senses　starting　to　slip　away。
　　
　　And　then　the　fiery　night　turned　to　unrelenting　blackness。　Total　oblivion；　so　cool　and　refreshing　after　the　heat。
　　
　　Sabat　struggled　to　e　to　terms　with　his　own　mind。　Consciousness　was　as　elusive　as　a　marshland　Jack…o…lantern；　taunting　him；　slipping　from　his　grasp　just　as　he　reached　out　for　it。　He　could　still　smell　the　fire；　wondered　if　he　had　actually　got　out　and　just　when　he　had　almost　convinced　himself　that　he　had　he　fell　back　into　that　awful　black　abyss。　Floating　in　a　semi…atose　state；　aware　that　around　him　was　dazzling　painful　light。　Maybe　he　was　dead　and　his　astral　was　condemned　to　wander　the　barren　wilderness　of　the　first　plane　forever；　a　low　entity；　a　poltergeist　likely　to　be　summoned　by　its　Master　for　menial　hauntings　at　a　moment's　notice；　but　until　then　he　must　remain　in　this　awful　desert。
　　
　　Some　time　later；　it　could　have　been　hours；　days　or　weeks；　he　came　to　the　conclusion　that　he　was　in　hospital。　Although　he　stili　smelt　occasional　odours　of　acrid　smoke；　his　senses　were　dominated　by　an　odour　of　disinfectant　and　scrupulous　cleanliness；　the　constant　movement　of　blurred；　white…clothed　bodies　and　voices　that　spoke　in　low　whispers。
　　
　　It　seemed　an　eternity　before　Sabat　regained　full　consciousness；　managed　to　squint