gns.cannibalcult-第8章

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　　She　cried　out　as　he　grabbed　her；　pinioned　her　to　the　bed。　She　wanted　to　yell　that　there　was　no　need　to　take　her　this　way　because　she　would　let　him　anyway；　but　she　kept　silent　because　she　was　afraid。　This　was　how　the　man　they　called　Sabat　wanted　it；　last　night　she　had　been　his　lover；　tonight　she　was　his　plaything；　an　inanimate　sex　object　for　his　own　selfish　pleasure。
　　
　　He　was　rough　and　strong；　hurting　her；　oblivious　to　her　feelings。　She　tried　not　to　look　into　those　eyes　but　they　were　irresistible。　Hypnotic。　A　feeling　of　sheer　helplessness　assailed　her；　he　could　and　would　do　what　he　wanted　to　her。　She　was　in　the　grip　of　a　mighty　tidal　wave；　being　swept　aloft；　dashed　on　the　rocks　and　thrown　back。　Crying。　Orgasming。　But　there　was　no　way　it　was　going　to　stop　until　Sabat　was　fully　spent。
　　
　　Finally　it　was　over　and　with　a　low　groan　his　sweat…soaked　body　sank　down　on　top　of　her。　He　was　trembling　violently；　gasping　for　breath。　Their　eyes　met　and　for　a　fleeting　second　she　thought　she　read　an　apology　in　them；　but　she　must　have　been　wrong　because　he　wasn't　the　type。　He'd　taken　what　he　wanted　and　he'd　take　it　again　when　the　need　arose。
　　
　　'I　thought　maybe　you　were　a　virgin　when　we　first　met　up　the　Jungfrau。'　He　was　staring　intently　up　at　the　ceiling。　'You　didn't　learn　to　screw　like　that　at　the　convent。'
　　
　　'No；'　she　replied。　'But　I've　been　on　the　run　for　some　time；　you　know。　A　girl　has　to　have　food　and　a　roof　over　her　head。　There　are　times　when　principles　have　to　go　overboard。'
　　
　　'And　sometimes　you　end　up　with　enough　francs　left　over　to　treat　yourself　to　a　tourist　trip　up　into　the　mountains；'　he　laughed　softly。　'And　why　not？'
　　
　　'We　must　leave　for　Lucerne　at　daybreak。'　She　changed　the　subject。
　　
　　'And　after　Lucerne？'
　　
　　'Who　knows；　Sabat。　At　the　moment　we　are　living　from　day　to　day。'
　　
　　'They'll　find　that　body　in　the　wood　in　a　day　or　two；'　he　mused；　'and　it　won't　be　long　before　they　tie　it　up　with　the　couple　who　rented　this　chalet。　Yes；　you're　right；　Madeleine；　we're　living　from　day　to　day。'
　　
　　Sabat　had　attempted　to　look　like　any　one　of　the　hundreds　of　tourists　who　thronged　the　streets　of　Lucerne　as　he　tried　to　make　his　third　cup　of　tepid　coffee　last。　He　couldn't　drink　any　more　and　Madeleine　had　already　been　gone　over　an　hour。　From　the　verandah　of　the　small　cafe　he　watched　the　crowded　Haldenstrasse　intently；　trying　to　pick　out　a　dark…haired　girl　whom　one　took　for　eighteen　at　first　glance　but　was　a　good　seven　years　older；　a　facade　of　innocence　which　she　used　to　her　advantage。
　　
　　Just　thinking　about　her　began　to　arouse　Sabat　again。　She　was　like　a　drug；　one　became　addicted。　Maybe　he　should　take　her　back　to　England　to　his　own　place。　She　was　as　good　a　means　of　convalescing　as　any　other　he　could　think　of。
　　
　　Then　he　saw　her　ing；　a　lithe　fast　walk；　glancing　neither　to　the　right　nor　the　left；　the　breeze　ruffling　her　dark　hair。　She　mounted　the　steps；　slid　gracefully　into　the　vacant　seat　beside　him。
　　
　　'Well？'　he　regarded　her　quizzically。
　　
　　'It　is　all　right；'　she　smiled。　'I　talked　with　Andre　Schmid　and　he　has　agreed　for　us　to　stay　at　his　place。'
　　
　　'But　can　we　trust　him？'
　　
　　'Yes；　I　am　sure　we　can。　My　father　contacted　him　last　week　and　Andre　said　that　if　I　showed　up　he　would　let　him　know。　But　he　won't。'
　　
　　Sabat　thought；　to　hell　with　all　this　I　could　leave　the　girl　now。　There's　nothing　to　keep　me　here。　But　his　growing　erection　told　him　he　would　stay。　He　rose　to　his　feet；　smiled；　and　said；　'Let's　go　meet　your　friend；　Andre。'
　　
　　The　house　stood　back　in　its　own　overgrown　garden　off　the　Basel…Strasse。　Possibly　the　casual　passer…by　would　be　unaware　of　its　existence；　for　the　boundary　hedge　had　grown　tall　and　thick；　unpruned　shrubs　concealing　the　short　drive。
　　
　　Sabat　viewed　the　large　building　with　a　feeling　of　sadness　that　such　an　impressive　structure　had　been　allowed　to　fall　into　decay　over　the　years。　Possibly　at　the　turn　of　the　century　it　had　been　a　holiday　home　for　some　wealthy　Frenchman；　a　carved　balcony　on　the　upper…floor　affording　a　magnificent　view　of　the　Chateau　Gutsch　and　within　walking　distance　of　Lake　Lucerne　itself。　Slates　had　fallen　from　the　roof　and　had　not　been　replaced；　paintwork　had　peeled　and　much　of　the　woodwork　was　rotten；　grimed　window　panes；　a　broken　one　reinforced　with　brown　paper。　Utter　dereliction　everywhere。
　　
　　Madeleine　banged　the　wrought…iron　door　knocker　and　they　heard　the　noise　reverberating　throughout　the　interior；　an　eerie　hollow　sound　as　though　the　house　was　empty　and　nobody　was　ing　back。　Echoing　desolation　that　died　away　to　silence。　Then　they　heard　approaching　footsteps；　somebody　struggling　with　a　rusted　bolt。
　　
　　Andre　Schmid　was　certainly　not　what　S　abat　had　expected。　Short；　somewhat　overweight；　no　more　than　thirty　years　of　age；　Schmid　looked　almost　ical　in　faded　dirty　jeans　with　the　waistband　rolled　over；　a　T…shirt　untidily　tucked　into　it。　Heavy　features　that　pouched　under　the　eyes；　surplus　flesh　jowled　beneath　the　chin；　small　eyes　that　shot　furtive；　suspicious　glances　alternately　from　Madeleine　to　Sabat　as　he　habitually　brushed　strands　of　long　brown　hair　back　from　his　forehead。
　　
　　'This　is　Mr　Sabat；'　Madeleine　Gaufridi　motioned　towards　her　panion；　'the　friend　I　was　telling　you　about；　Andre。'
　　
　　'Of　course；'　the　other　seemed　to　jerk　himself　forcibly　out　of　a　daze。　'You　are　both　wele　here。　e　inside。'　He　dragged　the　door　wider　across　warped　floorboards。
　　
　　The　interior　smelled　musty　and　Sabat　noted　that　the　large　hallway；　empty　except　for　a　hat　stand　with　broken　pegs　and　a　small　table；　had　not　been　cleaned　in　recent　weeks。
　　
　　'I　will　show　you　to　your　room。'　Schmid　began　to　mount　the　stairs；　following　a　well…worn　path　through　an　accumulation　of　dust。　'The　others　will　be　back　shortly。　We　eat　at　seven…thirty。　Prompt。'
　　
　　The　bedroom　would　have　overlooked　the　Bruch…Strasse　had　not　the　trees　formed　an　impenetrable　barrier　and　the　windows　been　clean。　A　double　bed　had　recently　been　made　up　with　clean　linen　and　there　was　ample　drawer　space　in　the　two　oak　chests。　Sabat　shivered　slightly；　some　form　of　heating　and　a　carpet　would　have　helped　to　destroy　the　spartan　atmosphere。
　　
　　Andre　Schmid　went　out；　closing　the　door　behind　him。
　　
　　'This　is　a　mune；'　Sabat's　voice　was　low。　'These　people　are　hippies。'
　　　
　　'Yes。'　Madeleine　blushed　slightly　as　though　she　had　deliberately　deceived　him。　'Andre　once　worked　in　my　father's　vineyard　until　he　opted　for　his　freedom。　Here；　these　people　are　free　to　e　and　go　as　they　please。　They　are　idealists；　like　myself。'
　　
　　'So　you're　going　to　spend　the　rest　of　your　days　skulking　here　and　smoking　pot。'　There　was　a　note　of　contempt　in　Sabat's　voice。　'You'll　be　just　as　much　a　prisoner　here　as　you　were　in　the　convent。'
　　
　　'No；'　Madeleine　regarded　him　steadily。　'I　shall　be　free。　Perhaps　I　can　even　persuade　you　to　remain　here；　Sabat。'
　　
　　'I　doubt　it；'　he　laughed。　'But　I'm　in　no　hurry　for　the　moment。　Let's　make　ourselves　fortable　and　then　we'll　see　what　the　food　is　like　here。'
　　
　　The　resonant　tones　of　a　heavy　gong　somewhere　in　the　lower　recesses　of　the　house　brought　Sabat　out　of　his　reverie。　God；　it　was　almost　dark；　or　was　it　because　the　windows　were　so　filthy　that　they　did　not　let　any　light　in。　He　must　have　fallen　asleep。
　　
　　'Dinner；　apparently；　is　served；'　he　swung　his　legs　off　the　bed；　noted　that　whilst　he　had　been　dozing　Madeleine　had　donned　a　long　dark　dress。　In　the　half…light　her　features　seemed　unnaturally　pale；　she　appeared　to　have　aged　a　decade。　So　different　again；　a　girl　of　many　parts。
　　
　　'Let's　go　down　and　meet　Andre's　friends。'　She　slipped　a　hand　into　his　and　it　felt　cold。　'I　understand　Andre's　cuisine　is　par　excellence。　He　worked　as　a　chef　in　Paris　for　some　months　after　he　left　my　father。　I　trust　your　appetite　is　back　to　normal；　Sabat。'
　　
　　'It's　improving　daily；'　Sabat　laughed；　inhaled　a　highly　spiced　cooking　aroma　which　drifted　up　the　stairs　to　greet　them；　a　kind　of　subtle　appetiser　especially　wafted　up　for　the　benefit　of　new　guests。　'In　fact；　right　now　I　could　eat　a　horse；　as　the　English　saying　goes。'
　　
　　'