gns.thegraveyardvultures-第35章
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see clearly although his range of vision was restricted； the dead youth threatening to slide down on to him at the slightest vibration； a skeletal leg only inches from his own。 He took a deep breath； smelled the overpowering rancid odour of Drew's blood； the cold cloying stench of stale air and 。 。 。 evil！ For even now the dark forces were ing alive down here； the temperature having fallen rapidly so that Sabat's flesh goosepimpled and he shivered。
He was surprised to discover how mentally refreshed he felt； just as he always did after a trip on to the astral plane。 He tried to flex his arm and leg muscles but they remained limp … the effects of that paralysing drug had not worn off yet。 He sighed； his earlier despair returning。 He was totally helpless； a sacrificial victim whenever Royston Spode chose to return。 The Rada gods had been contacted； a bargain made； but whether or not they chose to keep it was debatable。 Like himself they were fickle 。。。 and ruthless！
He considered once more escaping on to the astral； leaving this empty shell of a body for them to do what they would with it； taking his chance on that eternal battlefield in the timeless wilderness； a mercenary who would join either Rada or Petro forces。 But it was impossible； even if he chose to do so； for the necessary sleep…like trance which would project him into immortality would not easily be induced now that his mind was refreshed。 And the evil which existed in this hellish dungeon would not allow him to desert his body； would deny him sleep。
Another thought struck him； he still had his gun； the loaded 。38 weighted against his side。 With it he could have blasted Spode； maybe taken a few of the others as well until their numbers bore him down。 Only he was denied the use of his limbs； his forefinger incapable of taking the slightest trigger pressure。…Finally he accepted that there was only one course open to him … he must wait and place his faith in Damballah； chief of the Rada gods； whose day was Wednesday。 He had until midnight！
Time was standing still again； even the wax on those black candles seeming to burn unconsumed。 It was much； much colder too。 Sabat tensed； listening for a sound which did not e； the tramp of approaching feet that would herald his death and worse。 Instead he heard another noise； a faint creaking like the rusty hinge on a gate when the wind freshened； a movement such as rheumatic limbs might make。 His spine tingled as the noise grated on his nerves 。。。 so close！
A movement attracted his attention； something white against a black background； reflecting the flickering candlelight 。 。 。 Oh God； the skeleton's leg was bending 。 。 。 stretching。。。 flexing！
Sabat tried to close his eyes； wanted to spare himself the sight of a blasphemous rebirth； was even more conscious of his own helplessness。 Spode's magic； the sacrifice of human flesh and blood； the living evil in this crypt had resulted in the ultimate success； a living entity more unbelievable； more horrific than the fictional Frankenstein's monster。 But Sabat could not induce his eyelids to close； just as hours before it had proved impossible to open them。 He was condemned to watch； to listen to noises beyond the angle of his limited vision。
Jesus Christ； whatever it was it breathed； rattled a broken ribcage with stentorian intakes of air； stood and moved uncertainly on clicking feet。 It was behind him； skulking in the shadows； wheezing so that he felt its cold breath。 Now ing for him； a hunter from beyond mortal ken stalking its prey！
Mentally he braced himself； knew not what form the attack would take； a blasting of his reason； a stopping of his heartbeat by the sight of this terrible miscreation or the strangulating grip of skeletal fingers around his throat？
Something came at him out of the darkness； a grotesque bloody form that struck him with its full weight； knocking the breath from his body； causing him to scream his terror in his mind。 Cold flesh against his face； a weighty thing that sagged and slid across his body； its grasp slipping away because those fingers were lifeless。 And for the second time within the space of an hour the corpse of Andy Drew escalated crazed fear in Sabat！
Sabat wanted to laugh his relief aloud but all vocal functions were denied him。 The corpse had finally slipped from its perch； moving the skeleton of William Gardiner as it did so。 As one terror receded； another returned。 Somebody was shuffling round into Sabat's line of vision！
He stared； tried to prehend； but there was no explanation； neither the dead nor the black forces of evil gave up their secrets。 Such things were best kept beyond the reach of mortal knowledge。 For the being which had received life from some unearthly source was not in skeletal form … it was the shape of a man； flesh and blood； which looked down upon the inert form of Sabat with cold unblinking eyes； and it was all the more terrible for its human form！
A tramp…like appearance； the ragged clothing unable to hide the wasted body underneath； and at first glance Sabat thought that it was Gardiner's skeleton clothed in rotting tail…coat with a battered top hat set at a rakish angle on the skull。 But it wasn't。 Flesh was stretched tightly over the bones； parchment thin； the face half in shadow； vaguely familiar。
The man moved forward a step and Sabat saw him more clearly。 Changing features； at first he thought it might have indeed been William Gardiner clothed in a new skin that was too small for him； a countenance of evil that even now seemed uncertain of its own identity。 Then it was like looking into a dirty…grimed mirror； seeing his own features reflected behind the grime； again the ruthless evil 。。。 but not quite his own。 Quentin's！ But before Sabat could make up his mind； the nose had broadened； the dark eyes moved closer together； the thick lips parted in what was intended to be a smile； a settling of the shifting face into something more positive； one that he knew because he had seen it that same day half…hidden by a voluminous cowl； his panion then standing before the high wooden cross on which were draped the very clothes which he now wore。
'Maitre Carrefour！' Sabat got the name out； found that he could speak； that he could move his head in order to obtain a better view of the one who stood before him。 'Lord of the Crossroads！'
'Indeed。' The voice had that same nasal thickness； an accent which could not be attributed to any race throughout the modern world。 'It is； sent by Damballah； chief of the Rada gods。'
'Damballah is not ing？' A note of disappointment was in Sabat's voice as he managed to sit up； pushed the body of Andy Drew off him so that it rolled on to the floor with a sickening thud。
'No； too often are the chief gods summoned by mortals。 But my presence will suffice。 First； though； I must remind you of your vow。'
'I have not forgotten。' Sabat stretched his limbs； found that they moved easily； just a slight sensation of pins…and…needles in his legs where they had been trapped by the bloody corpse。 He turned； saw that the blood…spattered skeleton still lay in its original position。 'That 。。。 thing 。。。 Gardiner 。。。 it。。。 moved'
'Perhaps and perhaps not。' Maitre Carrefour smiled。 'The bones are latent evil but they cannot walk at present。 You must ensure that they never do； that the malignant entity within them is destroyed。'
'You have been sent to help me？'
'No； only to free you from that which paralysed your body。 Damballah has kept his word； but even the Rada gods cannot do more； for in this place the Petro evil is strong。 It is an ancient burial ground ruled over by Baron Cimeterre； and his power has been strengthened here by the remains of this man Gardiner。 Already there has been bloodshed and death。 We cannot infiltrate it； no more than we can win that war of everlasting strife which you have twice seen for yourself。 You are a mercenary of the gods； Sabat； taking sides when it suits your cause。 We have seen your treachery and we dare do no more than free you from that which held you and remi
