gns.cannibalcult-第21章
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of our ing for their powers are extraordinary。 We could be walking into a trap。'
'A trap set by you; Sabat? An evil associate sent to lure me to their den of evil?' Daunay laughed grimly。
Sabat tensed; the accusation piercing him like a sword thrust。 He was at a disadvantage; his enemy behind him and alerted。 'No; of course not。 I。。。'
Sabat caught his breath as something hard and round dug painfully into the small of his back。 He recognised it instantly; knew that he had left it too late。 The hunted had bee the hunter。 A faint metallic click as the safety catch on Pieter Daunay's automatic was pushed forward。
'I would not hesitate to shoot you; Sabat; and I think you know that。 A game of scheme and counter…scheme but I think I have outwitted you。 Now that you have brought me to this place I have no further use for you。 However; if there is a trap prepared inside that chapel; then it is you who will walk into it。 Walk slowly and keep your hands where I can see them!' Sabat took a step forward。 He thought about the ?38 in its holster but knew he had no chance of drawing it; not against a man like Pieter Daunay; this Witchfmder who might have stepped out of the middle ages was not blurring。
The pressure of the gun on Sabat's spine was pushing him forward; moving him like some electronically controlled automaton。 He forced his brain to work; trying desperately to formulate some kind of plan…but there wasn't any。 He was a puppet being controlled。
He stared ahead; saw the dim shape of the tiny chapel。 Faint streaks of light shafted out of the cracks in the ill…fitting door。 The black candles still burned。 Obviously Madeleine was still in there; Sabat had taken the van and unless Schmid and his followers had been and fetched her away she still had to be there。 Alone with the ghastly remains of the Beast of France。
Sabat's mind was reeling。 He wondered if anything had transpired during his absence。 The way the severed head appeared to have knitted back on to the shoulders was something that defied explanation; did not bear thinking about。 Instinctively he pulled up; found himself wanting to flee this place; but Daunay's gun ground into him maliciously。 'Keep going or I'll shoot you down here!'
Ten yards from the door。 Five。 Listening。 There was no sound to be heard。 The automatic prodded him again。 Daunay was wasting no time on a reconnaissance; he was going straight in there!
Sabat's fingers found the latch; lifted it silently。 Then in one movement he flung the door wide open。
He did not know what he had been expecting; had tried not to think about it。 Madeleine Gaufridi certainly。 Possibly naked; the coffin lid wide open; the girl raising herself up in shocked surprise from where she had been engaged in an awful kiss with the dead。 Or else she might have been fully clothed; reclining on the blankets。
Instead the interior of the chapel was empty; no sign of Madeleine。 An anticlimax that had Sabat's brain numbed; not understanding。 The girl should have been there but she wasn't。 Perhaps she was hiding; there were only two possible places。 The oven which served as an altar; and that lead coffin。
'Where are they?' there was anger in Daunay's hiss; the gun still jabbed hard into Sabat。 'Is this some kind of trick; Sabat?'
'No。' Sabat glanced about him; had that unnerving feeling that they were being watched from 。。。 somewhere。 'The girl should be around。 She couldn't have gone far。'
'Then we must look。' Daunay moved lithely; walking sideways around Sabat so that not for one second was the automatic veered from its target。 'We will start with this!'
Daunay worked with his left hand; transferring the candles to a shelf then tugging the black tapestries free; flinging them into a heap on the floor。 He jerked open the door of the cooker; wrinkled his nose in disgust。 'Ugh; the ultimate in revulsion。 Doubtless this spilled fat is all that remains of the mongol boy now that his bones have been cast out for the foxes and rats。 Nothing here; so that leaves only one place to look!'
Sabat wanted to scream 'For God's sake; no' as he saw Pieter Daunay attempting to lift the coffin lid one…handed; beads of perspiration standing out on the Frenchman's forehead。
Sabat closed his eyes。 He didn't want to see; never again wanted to gaze upon those terrible features。 He heard the lid go back on its hinges; vibrate。 A cry came from Daunay's lips that was probably the nearest the investigator ever got to terror。 'Mother of God! It cannot be but it is。 The head is rejoined to the body as though it had never been parted!'
Pieter Daunay's attention was now focused on Sabat again; stepping nearer as though he wanted to be away from that hideous corpse。
'Well; the girl is not here。 Nobody is here。 In which case; Sabat; we shall have to be patient and await their return。
Neither you nor I are leaving here。'
Sabat nodded dumbly and; at the other's gesture; lowered himself slowly down into one of the straight…backed chairs by the trestle table。 Daunay hitched himself on to the table; one leg swinging; his features harsh and unrelenting。 Suddenly he smiled; an expression that seemed to be forced; motivating himself; having to fight off a deep inner fear。
'The end of the road for the Cannibal Cult; Sabat!' he laughed; a hollow sound。 'And for you?
They waited in silence; eyes that met and burned hatred; both of them listening but hearing nothing。
The night hours passed slowly。 Sabat watched the candles burning lower; spluttering in their own spilled wax。 Daybreak could not be far off。 What would Daunay do when nobody came? But somebody had to e sometime because they would not leave Nevillon's body unguarded for long。 Walpurgisnacht was now just over forty…eight hours away。 The cult would not risk their ultimate triumph。
He saw Daunay shiver; shuddered himself。 It had gone very cold。 Those candles were now down to a mere stub; flickering as though caught in a sudden draught And in that instant Sabat realised!
'Look out!' his shout had the Frenchman jerking to his feet; finger curling around the trigger of his pistol。 'Daunay for God's sake run! Run before it's too late。 Get outsider
'Stay where you are!' Pieter Daunay jumped to bar the other's way to the door。 'Don't try it; Sabat!'
A waft of icy wind from somewhere extinguished both candles and at the height of his terror Sabat flung himself sideways and down。 A vivid stab of flame momentarily lit up the room as Daunay fired; and that split second was enough for Sabat to see and understand。
A thing so grotesque that it defied mortal logic was outlined in the flash。 Human in shape; its features mercifully bathed in shadow otherwise Sabat's brain would have snapped。 Animal…like grunts and a stench that was a mixture of putrefaction and excreta。 And death!
Sabat rolled over; tried to pray but that was something that Quentin could not do。 Utter blackness in a freezing atmosphere。 He covered his face; resigned himself to some unthinkable fate; heard Daunay screaming。 Yells of terror that died away to an imbecilic babble。
Then total silence。 Sabat did not try to hold on to consciousness。 He wanted neither to see nor hear。
He wanted to die。 Quickly。
CHAPTER TWELVE
SABAT COULD not believe that he was still alive。 Neither could he accept that he still had the use of his brain; that he was able to recognise his surroundings in the harsh light of a new day。
He didn't want to look but he had to; a fearful glance that took in the whole of the interior of the chapel。 Those burned…out candles lying on the floor。 The lead coffin; its lid now shut!
And Pieter Daunay also still lived! The French investigator was sitting in the furthest cornerof the room; a bowed; broken figure staring vacantly around him。 Glazed eyes that saw but did not understand; a slack mouth that vainly tried to speak; while the only sounds it managed to utter were inprehensible