[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.It slammed into the one with the gun,hard enough to spin him a hundred andeighty degrees with the snap of a dislocatingshoulder.The other levelled the cathode raytube at me, lips moving in the beginning ofan enchantment.As the thing spat strobe- 365/1048white fire at me I dove to one side, tastedmetal and smelt the nasty smoke of boilingtiles just a few inches from where I d stood.Iran, felt a weakness in the ground beneathme and dropped down into darkness just asanother blast of too-bright light fractured theair overhead.I landed in the apartment block below,the ceiling re-solidifying overhead.Two chil-dren with brown skin and curly hair werewatching a TV near where I d landed on amass of sheet music and magazines.Thesmaller girl stared open-mouthed; the older,with more sense of propriety, screamed withthe uninhibited vocal power of the young.Iran for the door as, further back in the apart-ment, a door slid back on rollers and a voicebegan with, What is& ? & fumbled with the lock, slammed thedoor behind me.There were already foot-steps on the floors above, and I could smellthe still-smarting magic of the cathode ray 366/1048tube, a nasty weapon for a wizard, a wandthat was as much X-ray and unpleasant over-dosed radiation as it was heat and light.Iwent downwards, the air growing colder andlights yellower as I descended, felt onceagain the shimmering power of the LondonWall close by.A metal door opened into anunderground car park smelling of urine andold oil.A pounding off to my right, and therewas a woman and two men, their blood-hound off its leash and coming straight forme.In the stark fluorescent light, I could seethe hound clearly: cracked yellow fangs thatpushed its lower lip back, revealing the softinterior of its mouth.Eyes stained the liver-failure yellow of any fairy-dust addict, forreasons that couldn t be coincidence, earstoo small for the mass of black head that car-ried them.A neck thick enough to melt intothe body without slowing for the joins, andblack fur stained with something slippery, 367/1048like oil on a duck, but thicker, viscous, andscarlet.The creature s eyes were fixed on me,its nostrils flared; I ran for the nearest up-wards ramp, stretching my hands out as Imoved, tangling my thoughts in the carsaround me.They rumbled and shuddered to life; firsta few, then with brake lights flaring along thelength of the car park.Dirty black exhaustfilled the low-ceilinged space in moments:there was a haze, then a fog, then a thicksmog of carbon-dry dust.I heard sharp clawsscutter across the floor, right behindme and swung round into the nearest pillar,plunging head first into the weaknessbetween here and wherever there was goingto be, so long as there was elsewhere.A moment of spinning darkness, and thesound of barking faded.A burst of heat in theback of my nose, an unbearable ache as, foran instant, I couldn t breathe; then head firstout the other side, slipping in a puddle of 368/1048engine oil and stagnant water as I tumbledonto the floor of another car park, on theother side of the Barbican.Our nose was bleeding, dry sweat burntour skin; this body was not designed for somuch movement without travelling.I wipedaway the blood from my nose with the backof my hand, then smeared the back of myhand across the pillar I d just fallen by, leav-ing a thin red trail.Then I ran, every stepjolting something soft inside my head.I wasat the entrance to the lift foyer before thefirst shout from the stairs above.I hurledmyself into the lift, elbowing a floor numberat random.As the lift started climbing, at thefirst floor I hit emergency stop, then clappedmy hands together and pulled them apart,dragging the lift doors open.I was onlycrookedly in line with the first floor, and hadto wriggle on my belly to get out.Finding thenearest toilet, I pushed my way in andlooked around for what I needed. 369/1048Inside the brightly lit space, a dooropened into a cubby-hole containing mop,bucket, packs of spare toilet paper, bottles ofchemicals and a large sign saying Cleaningin Progress Do Not Enter. I grabbed thesign and wedged it in front of the door, thensnatched up a roll of tissue paper and themost powerful chemical detergent I couldfind.Hearing noises outside, I fumbled formy Swiss army knife, tried to find the blade Iwanted, got the scissors instead and usedthose.A sudden fizzle in the air and the doorrocked on its hinges.Though bent in themiddle, it held [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.It slammed into the one with the gun,hard enough to spin him a hundred andeighty degrees with the snap of a dislocatingshoulder.The other levelled the cathode raytube at me, lips moving in the beginning ofan enchantment.As the thing spat strobe- 365/1048white fire at me I dove to one side, tastedmetal and smelt the nasty smoke of boilingtiles just a few inches from where I d stood.Iran, felt a weakness in the ground beneathme and dropped down into darkness just asanother blast of too-bright light fractured theair overhead.I landed in the apartment block below,the ceiling re-solidifying overhead.Two chil-dren with brown skin and curly hair werewatching a TV near where I d landed on amass of sheet music and magazines.Thesmaller girl stared open-mouthed; the older,with more sense of propriety, screamed withthe uninhibited vocal power of the young.Iran for the door as, further back in the apart-ment, a door slid back on rollers and a voicebegan with, What is& ? & fumbled with the lock, slammed thedoor behind me.There were already foot-steps on the floors above, and I could smellthe still-smarting magic of the cathode ray 366/1048tube, a nasty weapon for a wizard, a wandthat was as much X-ray and unpleasant over-dosed radiation as it was heat and light.Iwent downwards, the air growing colder andlights yellower as I descended, felt onceagain the shimmering power of the LondonWall close by.A metal door opened into anunderground car park smelling of urine andold oil.A pounding off to my right, and therewas a woman and two men, their blood-hound off its leash and coming straight forme.In the stark fluorescent light, I could seethe hound clearly: cracked yellow fangs thatpushed its lower lip back, revealing the softinterior of its mouth.Eyes stained the liver-failure yellow of any fairy-dust addict, forreasons that couldn t be coincidence, earstoo small for the mass of black head that car-ried them.A neck thick enough to melt intothe body without slowing for the joins, andblack fur stained with something slippery, 367/1048like oil on a duck, but thicker, viscous, andscarlet.The creature s eyes were fixed on me,its nostrils flared; I ran for the nearest up-wards ramp, stretching my hands out as Imoved, tangling my thoughts in the carsaround me.They rumbled and shuddered to life; firsta few, then with brake lights flaring along thelength of the car park.Dirty black exhaustfilled the low-ceilinged space in moments:there was a haze, then a fog, then a thicksmog of carbon-dry dust.I heard sharp clawsscutter across the floor, right behindme and swung round into the nearest pillar,plunging head first into the weaknessbetween here and wherever there was goingto be, so long as there was elsewhere.A moment of spinning darkness, and thesound of barking faded.A burst of heat in theback of my nose, an unbearable ache as, foran instant, I couldn t breathe; then head firstout the other side, slipping in a puddle of 368/1048engine oil and stagnant water as I tumbledonto the floor of another car park, on theother side of the Barbican.Our nose was bleeding, dry sweat burntour skin; this body was not designed for somuch movement without travelling.I wipedaway the blood from my nose with the backof my hand, then smeared the back of myhand across the pillar I d just fallen by, leav-ing a thin red trail.Then I ran, every stepjolting something soft inside my head.I wasat the entrance to the lift foyer before thefirst shout from the stairs above.I hurledmyself into the lift, elbowing a floor numberat random.As the lift started climbing, at thefirst floor I hit emergency stop, then clappedmy hands together and pulled them apart,dragging the lift doors open.I was onlycrookedly in line with the first floor, and hadto wriggle on my belly to get out.Finding thenearest toilet, I pushed my way in andlooked around for what I needed. 369/1048Inside the brightly lit space, a dooropened into a cubby-hole containing mop,bucket, packs of spare toilet paper, bottles ofchemicals and a large sign saying Cleaningin Progress Do Not Enter. I grabbed thesign and wedged it in front of the door, thensnatched up a roll of tissue paper and themost powerful chemical detergent I couldfind.Hearing noises outside, I fumbled formy Swiss army knife, tried to find the blade Iwanted, got the scissors instead and usedthose.A sudden fizzle in the air and the doorrocked on its hinges.Though bent in themiddle, it held [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]