bl.necroscope2-第3章

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ching　a　rusty　curved　sword　where　it　stuck　out　of　his　chest。　It　had　been　driven　home　with　such　force　that　he　was　pinned　to　the　wall。　His　eyes　were　still　open；　but　no　longer　terrified。　From　some　people；　death　steals　all　emotion。
　〃Mother　in　heaven！〃　Gulharov　whispered。　He'd　never　seen　anything　like　this。　He　wasn't　even　a　bat　soldier；　not　yet。
　They　went　through　a　second　door　into　what　had　been　Borowitz's　office。　It　was　spacious；　with　great　bullet…proof　bay　windows　looking　out　and　down　from　the　tower's　curving　stone　wall　toward　distant　woodland。　The　carpet　was　burned　and　stained　here　and　there。　A　massive　block　of　a　desk　in　solid　oak　stood　in　one　corner；　receiving　light　from　the　windows　and　protection　from　the　stone　wall　at　its　back。　As　for　the　rest　of　the　room：　it　was　a　shambles…and　a　nightmare！
　A　shattered　radio　spilled　its　guts　onto　the　floor；　walls　were　pockmarked　and　the　door　splintered　from　the　impact　of　sprayed　bullets；　the　body　of　a　young　man　in　Western　styled　clothes　lay　where　it　had　fallen；　ripped　by　machine　gun　fire；　almost　in　two　pieces　behind　the　door。　It　was　glued　to　the　floor　with　its　own　blood。　This　was　Harry　Keogh's　body：　nothing　much　to　look　at；　but　there　was　no　fear　or　pain　on　his　white；　unmarked　face。
　As　for　the　nightmare：　that　lay　propped　against　the　wall　on　the　other　side　of　the　room。
　〃Boris　Dragosani；〃　said　Krakovitch；　pointing。　〃The　thing　pinned　to　his　chest　is　what　controlled　him；　I　think。〃　He　stepped　carefully　across　the　room　to　stand　gazing　down　on　what　was　left　of　Dragosani　and　his　parasite　creature；　Gulharov　was　right　behind　him；　not　wanting　to　get　too　close。
　Both　of　Dragosani's　legs　were　broken　and　lay　at　weird　angles。　His　arms　hung　slack　down　the　wall　to　the　skirting；　elbows　just　off　the　floor；　forearms　at　ninety　degrees　and　hands　projecting　well　beyond　the　cuffs　of　his　jacket。　They　were　hands　like　claws；　big；　powerful　and　grasping；　frozen　in　Dragosani's　final　spasm。　His　face　was　a　rictus　of　agony；　made　worse　by　the　fact　that　it　was　hardly　a　human　face　at　all；　and　worse　still　by　the　gash　that　split　his　skull　ear　to　ear。
　But　his　face！
　Dragosani's　jaws　were　long　as　some　great　hound's；　gaping　open　to　display　curving　needle　teeth。　His　skull　was　misshapen；　and　his　ears　were　pointed　where　they　curved　forward　and　lay　flat　against　his　temples。　His　eyes　were　ruptured　red　pits　above　a　nose　long　and　wrinkled　and　flattened　to　show　gaping　nostrils；　like　the　convoluted　snout　of　some　great　bat。　That　was　how　he　looked：　part　man；　part　wolf；　part　bat。　And　the　thing　pinned　to　his　chest　was　worse。
　〃What　。　。　；　what　is　that？〃　Gulharov　gasped　out　the　question。
　〃God　help　me；　Krakovitch　shook　his　head；　〃I　don't　know！　But　it　lived　in　him。　I　mean；　inside　him。　It　only　came　out　at　the　end。〃
　The　trunk　of　the　thing　had　the　form　of　a　great　leech　some　eighteen　inches　long；　but　tapering　to　a　tail。　There　were　no　limbs；　it　seemed　to　cling　to　Dragosani's　chest　by　suction；　and　was　held　there　by　a　sharp　stake　formed　of　the　splintered　hardwood　stock　of　a　heavy…duty　machine　gun；　its　skin　was　grey…green；　corrugated。　Gulharov　saw　that　its　head；　flat　and　cobra…like…but　eyeless；　blind…lay　on　the　carpet　a　little　apart。
　Like。。。　like　some　gigantic　tapeworm？〃　Gulharov's　horror　was　plain　on　his　face。
　〃Something　like　that；〃　Krakovitch　nodded　grimly。　〃But　intelligent；　evil；　and　deadly。〃
　〃Why　have　we　e　up　here？〃　Gulharov's　Adam's　apple　bobbed。　〃There　are　fifty　million　better　places　to　be。〃
　Krakovitch's　face　was　white；　pinched。　He　could　fully　appreciate　Gulharov's　feelings。　〃We've　e　up　here　because　we　have　to　burn　this；　that's　why。〃　His　talent　again；　warning　him　that　both　Dragosani　and　his　symbiont　must　be　destroyed；　utterly。　He　looked　around；　saw　a　tall　steel　filing　cabinet　standing　against　the　wall　to　one　side　of　the　door。　He　and　Gulharov　tore　out　the　shelving；　turning　the　cabinet　into　a　metal　coffin。　They　lowered　it　onto　its　back　and　dragged　it　across　the　floor　to　Dragosani。
　〃You　take　his　shoulders；　I'll　take　his　thighs；〃　said　Krakovitch。　〃Once　we've　got　him　in　here　we　can　close　the　door　and　slide　the　cabinet　down　the　steps。　Frankly；　I　don't　fancy　touching　him。　I'll　touch　him　as　little　as　possible。　This　way　has　to　be　best。〃
　They　gingerly　lifted　the　corpse；　strained　to　get　it　over　the　rim　of　the　cabinet；　lowered　it　inside。　Gulharov　went　to　close　the　door　and　the　projecting　stake　got　in　the　way。　He　grasped　the　splintered　stock　in　both　hands…and　the　mental　warning　hit　Krakovitch　like　a　fist　in　his　heart！
　〃Don't　touch　that！〃　he　yelled；　but　too　late。
　As　Gulharov　wrenched　the　stake　free；　so　the　leech…thing…headless　as　it　was…came　alive。　Its　hideous　slug…like　body　began　to　lash　in　a　frenzy；　so　that　it　almost　ejected　itself　from　the　cabinet。　At　the　same　time　its　leathery　skin　broke　open　in　a　dozen　places；　putting　out　protoplasmic　tentacles　that　writhed　and　vibrated　in　a　sort　of　mindless　agony。　These　pseudopods　whipped　out；　struck　the　sides　of　the　cabinet　and　recoiled；　settled　on　Dragosani's　body。　They　passed　through　clothing　and　dead　flesh　and　burrowed　into　him。　More　of　them　sprouted　from　the　main　body；　they　formed　barbs；　hooked　themselves　into　Dragosani's　flesh。　One　of　the　tentacles　found　his　chest　cavity；　it　thickened　rapidly　to　the　diameter　of　a　man's　wrist；　the　rest　dissolved　their　barbs；　released　their　holds；　withdrew　and　followed　the　main　branch　into　him。　With　a　final　sucking　plop　the　entire　organism　drew　itself　down　into　Dragosani's　body。　His　trunk　began　to　heave　and　throb　where　it　lay　in　the　cabinet。
　While　all　of　this　occurred；　so　Gulharov　had　danced　away　and　clambered　up　onto　the　desk。　He　was　mouthing　half…inarticulate　obscenities；　shrieking　like　a　woman。　And　he　was　pointing　at　something。　Krakovitch；　almost　numb　with　shock　and　horror；　saw　the　leech…creature's　flat　cobra　head　vibrating　on　the　floor；　flipping　and　flopping　like　a　stranded　flatfish。　He　gave　a　cry　of　loathing；　began　to　panic；　then　gripped　himself　tight　and　drove　the　panic　out。　Finally　he　slammed　the　cabinet　door　shut　and　shot　the　bolt。
　He　grabbed　a　metal　drawer　from　the　cabinet's　scattered　guts；　yelled：　〃Well；　help　me！〃
　Gulharov　got　down　off　the　desk。　He　still　had　the　stake；　was　hanging　on　to　it　like　grim　death。　Prodding　the　flopping　head；　and　cursing　all　the　time　under　his　breath；　finally　he　juggled　the　thing　into　Krakovitch's　drawer。　Krakovitch　slammed　a　section　of　shelving　down　on　top　of　it；　and　Gulharov　brought　a　pair　of　heavy　ledgers　to　put　on　top　of　that。　Both　cabinet　and　drawer　shuddered　and　shook　for　a　few　seconds　more；　then　were　still。
　Like　a　pair　of　ghosts　Krakovitch　and　Gulharov　faced　each　other；　both　of　them　panting；　white　as　sheets　and　round…eyed。　Then　Krakovitch　snarled；　reached　out　and　slapped　the　other's　face。　〃Bodyguard？〃　he　shouted。　〃Bloody　bodyguard？〃　He　slapped　him　again；　hard。　〃Bloody　hell！
　〃I。。。　I'm　sorry。　I　didn't　know　what　to。。。〃　Gulharov　was　trembling　like　a　leaf；　looked　like　he　was　going　to　faint。
　Krakovitch　calmed　down。　He　could　hardly　blame　him。　〃It's　all　right；〃　he　said。　〃It's　all　right。　Now　listen：　we'll　burn　the　head　up　here。　We'll　do　that　first；　right　now。　Go　quickly；　fetch　Avgas。〃
　Staggering　a　little；　Gulharov　went。
　He　was　back　in　record　time；　carrying　a　jerrycan。　They　slid　the　shelving　over　the　drawer　open　a　crack；　poured　Avgas。　There　was　no　movement　from　inside　the　drawer。　〃Enough！〃　said　Krakovitch。　〃Any　more　and　there'll　be　one　hell　of　an　explosion。　Now　then；　help　me　drag　the　cabinet　through　into　the　other　room。〃　In　a　moment　they　were　back；　and　Krakovitch　tipped　out　the　drawers　of　Borowitz's　desk。　He　found　what　he　was　looking　for：　a　small　ball　of　string。　He　snapped　off　a　ten　foot　length；　soaked　it　in　Avgas；　carefully　dangled　one　end　through　the　crack　into　the　drawer。　Then　he　laid　the　string　out　on　the　floor　in　a　straight　line　towards　the　door　and　took　out　Gulharov's　matches。　They　shielded　their　eyes　as　he　lit　the　fuse。
　Blue　fire　raced　across　the　floor；　leaped　into　the　drawer。　There　was　a　dull　thump　and　shelving；　ledgers　and　all　hit　the　ceiling；　then　fell　back　to　the　floor。　The　metal　drawer　was　an　inferno；　in　which　the　flat　snake…head　danced　and　skittered…but　not　for　long。　As　the　drawer　began　to　buckle　under　the　heat　and　the　carpet　about　it　blackened　and　burst　into　flames；　so　the　thing　in　the　drawer　puffed　up；　and　split　open　and　quickly　became　liquescent。　And　then　it；　too；　burned。　But　Krakovitch　and　Gulharov　waited　a　full　minute　more　before　they　put　out　the　fire。
　Krakovitch　gave　a　curt　nod。　〃Well；　at　least　we　know　the　thing　burns！〃　he　said。　〃It　was　probably　dead　anyway；　but　by　my　books　when　a　thing's　dead　it　lies　still！〃
　They　bumped　the　cabinet　downstairs；　two　flights　to　the　ground　floor；　then　out　through　the　battle…torn　building　into　the　grounds。　Krakovitch　stood　guard　on　it　while　Gulharov　went　back　for　the　Avgas。　When　he　returned；　Krakovitch　said；　This　will　be　the　tricky　bit。　First　we　pour　some　of　this　stuff　around　the　cabinet。　That　way；　when　we　open　it；　if　what's　inside　is…active…we　just　jump　back　out　of　range　and　toss　a　match。　Until　it's　quiet。　And　so　on。。。。
　Gulharov　seemed　uncertain；　but　he　was　far　more　alert　now。
　They　poured　Avgas　on　to　and　around　the　cabinet；　and　then　Gulharov　got　well　back　out　of　it。　Krakovitch　slid　back　the　bolt；　threw　the　door　clangingly　open。　Inside；　Dragosani　stared　into　the　sky。　His　chest　stirred　a　little；　but　that　was　all。　As　Krakovitch　began　to　pour　Avgas　carefully　into　the　cabinet　near　Dragosani's　feet；　Gulharov　came　forward。　〃Don't　use　too　much；〃　it　was　the　Sergeant's　turn　to　caution。　〃Or　it　will　go　off　like　a　bomb！〃When　the　fuel　swirled　almost　an　inch　deep　around　Dragosani's　prone　form；　evaporating　furiously；　the　dead　man's　chest　gave　another　sudden　lurch。　Krakovitch　stopped　pouring；　stared；　backed　off　a　little。　Outside　the　circle　of　danger；　Gulharov　stood　with　a　match　ready　to　strike。　A　slickly　shining；　grey…green　tendril　sprouted　upwards　from　Dragosani's　chest。　Its　tip　formed　a　knob　as　big　as　a　fist；　which　in　turn　formed　an　eye。　Just　seeing　that　orb；　Krakovitch　knew　there　was　no　thought　behind　it；　no　sentience。　It　was　vacant；　staring；　made　no　connections　and　carried　no　emotions。　Krakovitch　doubted　if　it　even　saw。　Certainly　there　was　no　longer　any　brain　for　it　to　relay　its　message　to。　The　eye　melted　back　into　protoflesh；　was　replaced　by　small　jaws　which　clashed　mindlessly。　Then　it　sank　down　again　out　of　sight。
　〃Felix；　get　out　of　there！〃　Gulharov　was　nervous。
　Krakovitch　backed　out　of　the　circle；　Gulharov　struck　a　match；　tossed　it；　in　a　moment　the　cabinet　was　an　inferno。　Like　the　oblong　mouth　of　a　jet　engine　on　test；　the　cabinet　hurled　a　pale　blue　sheet　of　fire　roaring　into　the　cold　air；　a　shimmering　column　of　intense　heat。　And　then　Dragosani　sat　up！
　Gulharov　clutched　Krakovitch；　clung　to　him。　〃Oh　God！　Oh；　mother…he's　alive！〃　he　croaked。
　〃No；〃　Krakovitch　denied；　tearing　himself　free。　〃The　thing　in　him　is　alive；　but　mindless。　It's　all　instinct　with　no　brain　to　govern　it。　It　would　flee　but　doesn't　know　how　to；　or　even　what　it's　fleeing　from。　If　you　spear　a　sea…cucumber　it　reacts；　spills　out　its　guts。　No　mind；　just　reaction。　Look；　look！　It's　melting！〃
　And　indeed　it　seemed　that　Dragosani　was　melting。　Smoke　curled　upward　from　his　blackened　shell；　layers　of　skin　peeled　away；　bursting　into　flame；　the　fats　of　his　body　ran　like　candle　wax；　a