bl.necroscope2-第30章

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　George　scanned　the　scene　disbelievingly。　They　were　in　the　grass。　He　couldn't　see　Helen…not　her　face；　anyway…for　she　was　face　down；　backside　in　the　air。　And　Yulian　mounting　her；　frantic　in　his　rage；　his　passion；　his　hands　gripping　her　waist。　George　began　to　tremble　and　he　couldn't　stop　it。　Helen　was　a　willing　party　to　this；　had　to　be。　Well；　and　he'd　said　she　was　an　adult…but　God！…there　must　be　limits。
　And　there　she　was；　face　down　in　the　grass；　naked　as　a　baby…George's　baby　girl…with　her　straw　hat　and　her　dress　tossed　aside　and　her　pink　flesh　open　to　this。。。　this　slime！　George　no　longer　feared　Yulian；　if　he　ever　had；　but　hated　him。　The　weird…looking　bastard　would　look　a　sight　weirder　when　he　was　finished　with　him。
　He　snatched　his　binoculars　from　his　neck；　tossed　them　down　on　the　bed；　turned　towards　the　door…and　his　muscles　locked　rigid。　George's　jaw　fell　open。　Something　he　had　seen；　some　monstrous　thing　burned　on　his　mind's　eye。　With　hands　numb　to　the　bone　he　took　up　the　binoculars；　fixed　them　again　on　the　couple　in　the　long　grass。　Yulian　had　finished；　lay　sprawled　alongside　his　partner。　But　George　let　the　glasses　slide　right　over　them　to　the　hat　and　disarrayed　dress。
　The　straw　hat　had　a　wide　black　band。　It　was　Anne's　hat。　And　now　that　fact　had　dawned　he　saw　that　it　was　also　Anne's　dress。
　The　binoculars　slipped　from　George's　fingers。　He　staggered；　almost　fell；　flopped　down　heavily　on　his　bed。　On　their　bed；　his　and　Anne's。　Willing　party。。。　had　to　be。　The　words　kept　repeating　in　his　whirling　head。　He　couldn't　believe　what　he'd　seen；　but　he　had　to　believe。　And　she　was　a　willing　party。　Had　to　be。
　How　long　he　sat　there　in　a　daze　he　couldn't　tell：　five　minutes；　ten？　But　finally　he　came　out　of　it。　He　came　out　of　it；　shook　himself；　knew　what　he　must　do。　All　those　stories　from　Yulian's　school：　they　must　be　true。　The　bastard　was　a　pervert！　But　Anne；　what　of　Anne？
　Could　she　be　drunk？　Or　drugged？　That　was　it！　Yulian　must　have　given　her　something。
　George　stood　up。　He　was　cold　now；　cold　as　ice。　His　blood　boiled　but　his　mind　was　a　white　snowfield；　with　the　track　he　must　take　clearly　delineated。　He　looked　at　his　hands　and　felt　the　strength　of　both　God　and　the　devil　flowing　in　them。　He　would　tear　out　the　black；　soulless　eyes　of　that　swine；　he　would　eat　his　rotten　heart！
　He　staggered　downstairs；　through　the　empty　house；　reeled　drunkenly；　murderously　towards　the　copse。　And　he　found　Anne's　hat　and　dress　exactly　where　he'd　seen　them。　But　no　Anne；　no　Yulian。　Blood　pounded　in　George's　temples；　hate　like　acid　corroded　his　mind；　peeling　away　every　layer　of　rationality。　Still　reeling；　he　scrambled　his　way　through　low　brambles　to　the　gravel　drive；　glared　his　loathing　at　the　house。　Then　something　told　him　to　look　behind。　Back　there；　at　the　gates；　Vlad　stood　watching；　then　started　forward　uncertainly。
　Something　of　sanity　returned。　George　hated　Yulian　now；　intended　to　kill　him　if　he　could；　but　he　still　feared　the　dog。　There'd　always　been　something　about　dogs；　and　especially　this　one。　He　ran　back　towards　the　house；　and　ing　round　a　screen　of　bushes　saw　Yulian　striding　through　the　shrubbery　towards　the　rear　of　the　building。　Towards　the　entrance　to　the　cellars。
　〃Yulian！〃　George　tried　to　yell；　but　the　word　came　out　as　a　gasping　croak。　He　didn't　try　again。　Why　warn　the　perverted　little　sod？　Behind　him；　Vlad　put　on　a　little　speed；　began　to　lope。
　At　the　corner　of　the　house　George　paused　for　a　moment；　gulped　air　desperately。　He　was　out　of　condition。　Then　he　saw　a　rusty　old　mattock　leaning　against　the　wall　and　snatched　it　up。　A　glance　over　his　shoulder　told　him　that　Vlad　was　ing；　his　strides　stretching　now；　ears　flat　to…his　head。　George　wasted　no　more　time　but　plunged　through　the　low　shrubbery　to　the　entrance　to　the　vaults。　And　there　stood　Yulian　at　the　open　door。　He　heard　George　ing；　turned　his　head　and　cast　a　startled　glance　his　way。
　〃Ah；　George！〃　He　smiled　a　sickly　smile。　〃I　was　just　wondering　if　perhaps　you'd　like　to　see　the　cellars？〃　Then　he　saw　George's　expression；　the　mattock　in　his　white…knuckled　hands。
　〃The　cellars？〃　George　choked；　almost　entirely　deranged　with　hatred。　〃Yes　I　fucking　would！〃　He　swung　his　pick…like　weapon。　Yulian　put　up　an　arm　to　shield　his　face；　turned　away。　The　sharper；　rustier　blade　of　the　heavy　tool　took　him　in　the　back　of　his　right　shoulder；　crunched　through　the　lower　part　of　the　scapula　and　buried　itself　to　the　haft　in　his　body。
　Thrown　forward；　Yulian　went　toppling　down　the　central　ramp；　the　mattock　still　sticking　in　him。　As　he　fell　he　said；　〃Ah！　Ah！〃…in　no　way　a　scream；　more　an　expression　of　surprise；　shock。　George　followed；　arms　reaching；　lips　drawn　back　from　his　teeth。　He　pursued　Yulian；　and　Vlad　pursued　him。
　Yulian　lay　face　down　at　the　bottom　of　the　steps　beside　the　open　door　to　the　vaults。　He　moaned；　moved　awkwardly。　George　slammed　a　foot　down　in　the　middle　of　his　back；　levered　the　mattock　out　of　him。　〃Ah！　Ah！〃　again　Yulian　gave　his　peculiar；　sighing　cry。　George　lifted　the　mattock…and　heard　Vlad's　rumbling　growl　close　behind。
　He　turned；　swung　the　mattock　in　a　deadly　arc。　The　dog　was　stopped　in　mid…flight　as　the　mattock　smacked　flatly　against　the　side　of　its　head。　It　crumpled　to　the　concrete　floor；　groaned　like　a　man。　George　panted　hoarsely；　lifted　his　weapon　again…but　there　was　no　sign　of　consciousness　in　the　animal。　Its　sides　heaved　but　it　lay　still；　tongue　protruding。　Out　like　a　light。
　And　now　there　was　only　Yulian。
　George　turned；　saw　Yulian　staggering　into　the　vault's　unknown　darkness。　Unbelievable！　With　his　injury；　still　the　bastard　kept　going。　George　followed；　kept　Yulian's　stumbling　figure　visible　in　the　gloom。　The　cellars　were　extensive；　rooms　and　alcoves　and　midnight　corridors；　but　George　didn't　let　his　quarry　out　of　sight　for　a　single　moment。　Then…a　light！
　George　peered　through　an　arched　entrance　into　a　dimly　illumined　room。　A　single　dusty　bulb；　shaded；　hung　from　a　vaulted　ceiling　of　stone　blocks。　George　had　momentarily　lost　sight　of　Yulian　in　the　darkness　surrounding　the　cone　of　light；　but　then　the　youth　staggered　between　him　and　the　light　source；　and　George　picked　him　up　again　and　advanced。　Yulian　saw　him；　swung　an　arm　wildly　at　the　light　in　an　attempt　to　put　it　out　of　mission。　Injured；　he　missed　his　aim；　setting　the　lamp　and　shade　dancing　and　swinging　on　their　flex。
　Then；　by　that　wildly　gyrating　light；　George　saw　the　rest　of　the　room。　In　intermittent　flashes　of　light　and　darkness；　he　picked　out　the　details　of　the　hell　he'd　walked　into。
　Light。。。　and　in　one　corner　a　glimpse　of　piled　wooden　racks　and　cobwebbed　shelving。　Darkness。。。　and　Yulian　an　even　darker　shape　that　crouched　uncertainly　in　the　centre　of　the　room。　Light…and　along　one　wall　Georgina；　seated　in　an　old　cane　chair；　her　eyes　bulging　but　vacant　and　her　mouth　and　flaring　nostrils　wide　as　yawning　caverns。　Darkness…and　a　movement　close　by；　so　that　George　put　up　the　mattock　to　defend　himself。　Insane　light…and　to　his　right　a　huge　copper　vat；　six　feet　across　and　seated　on　copper　legs；　with　Helen　slumped　in　a　dining　chair　on　one　side；　her　back　to　the　nitre…streaked　wall；　and　Anne；　naked；　likewise　positioned　on　the　other　side。　Their　inner　arms　dangling　inside　the　rim　of　the　bowl；　and　something　in　the　bowl　itself　seeming　to　move　restlessly；　throwing　up　ropes　of　doughy　matter。　Flickering　darkness…out　of　which　came　Yulian's　laughter：　the　clotted；　sick　laughter　of　someone　warped　irreparably。　Then　light　again…which　found　George's　eyes　fixed　on　the　great　vat；　or　more　properly　on　the　women。　And　the　picture　searing　itself　indelibly　into　his　brain。
　Helen's　clothing　ripped　down　the　front　and　pulled　back；　and　the　girl　lolling　there　like　a　slut　with　her　legs　sprawled　open；　everything　displayed。　Anne　likewise；　but　both　of　them　grimacing；　their　faces　working　hideously；　showing　alternating　joy　and　total　horror；　their　arms　in　the　vat；　and　the　nameless　slime　crawling　on　their　arms　to　their　shoulders；　pulsating　from　its　unknown　source！
　Merciful　darkness…and　the　thought　in　George's　tottering　mind：　God！　It's　feeding　on　them；　and　it's　feeding　itself　to　them！　And　Yulian　so　close　now　that　he　could　hear　his　rasping　breathing。　Light　again；　as　the　lamp　settled　to　a　jerky　jitterbug…and　the　mattock　wrenched　from　George's　nerveless　finge