gns.thegraveyardvultures-第26章
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Maniacal laughter jarred his nerves； had him writhing as though in physical pain。 Those cold fingers like the hands of Death himself were touching his face； icy sweat running down his face。 Then amid the terror came an idea； loud and clear like the clarion call of a rescuing pany of troops； a sliver of ingenuity impinging itself in his muzzy brain。 He had exorcised many places； people … why not himself'
He shuddered at the implications； that boxer again； pinned back on the ropes； swinging one mightly knockout punch。 If it landed； he won。 If not； his defences were wide open。 A last desperate throw！
Failure he dared not contemplate。 Neither did he wish to dwell on his decision。 Win or lose； it was made。 Quentin's voice； an inprehensible babble that was wearing him down； opening up the gate to let the enemy in。
Sabat was shouting； screaming； trying to pronounce each word clearly； frightened lest the mental confusion might close in before he was finished。 'I mand you； evil spirit； in the Name of God the Father Almighty； in the Name of Jesus Christ his only Son； and in the name of the Holy Spirit 。 。 。 ' he had to gasp' for breath； a kind of asthma constricting his lungs； threatening to collapse them。 That 。 。 。 harming no one 。 。 。 you depart from this 。 。 。 creature which is myself 。 。 。 and return to the place appointed you； there to remain forever。'
He exhaled deeply； had to draw again for life…giving breath； the pain in his chest crippling。 Noises inside his head which threatened to dement him； clinging desperately to a cliff face beneath which a black chasm yawned； a voice that threatened to suck him down。
He heard Quentin again。 This time there was no laughter； just an obscene blasphemy。 'Damn you； you won't rid yourself of me like that because I am you； Mark Sabat。 You torture yourself。'
That much was true。 Sabat felt the excruciating pain； screamed his agony but somehow held on to his sanity。 A duel was taking place within him； the same as it had that last time between Quentin and himself。 The chasm below was that grave； bigger； alive with evil。 The 。38 barked its hate； spewing his brother's brains out like stringy phlegm。
Winning and yet losing； a stalemate once the powdersmoke had drifted away。
Sabat sank sideways across the front seat； closed his eyes and experienced an overpowering exhaustion。 He wanted to sleep 。 。 。 had to。 Silence； the voice had gone； just a terrible stillness which left him trembling。
'But you haven't won the day； Sabat！' Quentin's voice； vibrant with fury； but dying away； to an unintelligible muttering。
And Sabat knew that he was alone at last。 That last super…psychic effort had repelled the enemy； driven them back into the darkness。 He reared up on an elbow； glanced through the windscreen； saw that the fog had gone。 Silvery moonlight reflected on the hedges and a warm summer breeze was breathing its fragrant breath in through the window。
Sabat made a supreme effort and struggled up into a sitting position。 If he had not grasped the steering wheel he would have slumped back。 God； his whole body ached； his brain was numb the way it often was after an exorcism when he had projected his entire mental strength at an opposing evil spirit。
The engine had stalled。 He tried to start it； …barely had the strength to turn it over once。 And that remaining strength was wilting like an autumn flower。 Totally spent； exorcist and exorcised； a bined role that had sapped him。
Even as he felt for the starter again he sensed himself falling； that black chasm again but the evil had gone from it。 Just cool and weling； a place in which to drift and sleep。。 。
Miranda had sat silent； staring straight ahead of her but seeing nothing on the roads that led away from Warwickshire； a total lack of awareness so that when the big man behind the wheel took a sharp bend too fast she was thrown against the door。 A bang on her head that would normally have brought a cry of pain from her lips did not so much as alter the glazed expression on her features。 Yet she was aware of her predicament； her terror； in the 107 same way that a hospital patient stirring in a deep a knows but is unable to municate。 An acceptance of her fate because she knew that she could not escape it。 In a way she had already died。
At last the car slowed； the tyres crunching on thick gravel； crawling up a winding drive lined with rhododendrons； ing to a halt。 Royston switched off the engine； turned to his panion。
'So easy/ he murmured； his eyes narrowing； once again the hawk which had swooped and taken off again with its helpless prey dangling in its talons； not even struggling。 'And in spite of Sabat's meddling we are in time。' He laughed； an unpleasant sound； got out and came round to unlatch the passenger door。
Miranda's movements were jerky； a robot in human shape； her only feeling that one spark of terror somewhere deep inside her。 Her limp hand was clutched and she found herself stumbling along at the side of her tall panion； wicked briars reaching out to clutch at her ankles； low branches whipping her face as though the forces of Nature were eager for the torment to mence。
They skirted the large black and white timbered house； half moonlit； half in shadow； a place that seemed to brood； its windows eyes that scrutinised her。 Down paths that twisted and wound back on themselves in places。 Once Miranda would have fallen headlong had not Royston been gripping her wrist； he caught her； pulled her roughly upright in the same movement。 There was no time to linger。
She saw the yawning black hole before her but did not understand； had her captor not steadied her she would have fallen head first down the flight of broken steps that led below。 Royston went first； picking his way carefully； holding her close to him； gripping her as though he both hated and lusted for her； fingers squeezing with intent to hurt。
A narrow passage； its stone walls running with moisture； its roof bulging in places as though it might collapse at any second。 The floor was uneven； water splashing Miranda's ankles where the seepage from above had formed puddles。 She was breathing unevenly； her respiratory system rebelling at the pungent musty odour； her skin goosepimpling because it was so very cold down here。 Yet she was not aware of any disfort。
Light was ing from somewhere ahead； a soft yellow glow that grew brighter with every bend in the passage until at length they emerged into a large underground room。 Again the walls were rough hewn and the ceiling was supported in places by wooden props in addition to the existing stone pillars。 A row of black wax candles filled the area with an oily smoke that took its time filtering out into the passage down which the two newers had arrived。 And people moved amid the smoke haze。
Heads were turned towards them； eyes glinting with the same carnal lust that was to be seen in Royston's； all focused on the girl。 Even in her trance…like state she sensed their hostility； their evii a vibrant wave that hit her and set every nerve tingling； seemed to fan that tiny spark of terror within her to a flame。
Wide…eyed she took in the scene； a dozen naked men and women； the younger ones erotic in their arousement； the older ones wrinkled and revolting。 Both were frightening。 They had been doing something； some kind of group activity that inspired a feeling of guilt because their leader had arrived without warning and witnessed their perverted orgy。 But their shame vanished as they gazed upon Miranda； willing her to be thrown naked into their midst so that they could vent their unsatisfied lust upon her shapely body； finish whatever they had been doing。
The shock had brought an awakening to Miranda； now seeing and beginning to understand。 That altar with its dark tapestries； the gleaming white object that was stretched below the twin candles； the flickering flames showing the fractured bones； how some had been rejoined in an attempt to 。。。 Oh God； they'd repaired that broken human skeleton； made it into a
