[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
the unease left by the uninvited thoughts, Halloran regretted his decision. At
once he berated himself, a little astonished by his own trepidation. But then,
as he'd already acknowledged, it had been an odd day.
In the stillness around him his footsteps seemed louder than normal. Ahead the
road narrowed, trees on opposite sides linking leafy arms to form a tunnel. It
was twilight inside that tunnel.
He was too warm suddenly, the air almost too heavy to breathe. The clouds were
swollen and dark and he relished the idea of rain, or even a storm. But it was
as though the dampness was scaled into the masses above. He walked on, at
irregular intervals glancing from left to right, occasionally checking the
road behind. All was quiet. The lodge-house was a distant image, rendered
small and impotent. The road in front of him had begun to curve, no exit
visible inside the tunnel.
A stirring of ferns by the roadside, no more than a transient breeze. ,A faint
crash further within, merely a dead or broken branch shed from a tree.
Light faded as he passed beneath the canopy of leaves. It was cooler, although
not much, and Halloran quickened his pace. The more he progressed, the dimmer
became the light. Soon it was as though night had fallen prematurely. His
senses sharpened and he allowed his vision to wander, never focusing on any
particular section of forest for too long, constantly shifting his attention
from one dark area to another.
At first he thought he had imagined the snuffling, for it had been barely
audible over the sound of his own footsteps, but then it came again. He
stopped to listen. Nothing now. And that in itself was unusual, for the woods
were always full of noises of some kind, small scufflings, the flapping of
wings, an owl settling in for the night's vigil. Over many years he had
learned to discern nature's disturbances from those that might originate from
stealthy humans, the difference being that animal or natural noises generally
continued even if for no more than a second or two, whereas those caused by
humans be they hiding or stalking prey -had a tendency to cease immediately.
He resumed his journey, the tension in his stride indicating an extra
alertness. Keeping his steps as quiet as possible, Halloran moved into the
curve of the tunnel. A rustling to his right, a definite movement. He carried
on walking, a hand reaching under his jacket to the butt of the Browning. More
movement, something keeping pace with him. He began to suspect what that
something might be.
He had assumed that the dogs were controlled during the daytime and allowed to
run free at night.
Perhaps it was at dusk that their keeper set them loose on their own.
Snuffling noises again, and then a louder rustling through the undergrowth as
though the animals were hurrying to get ahead of him. Initially the sounds had
come from some distance inside the woodland, but now they were drawing close,
as if the dogs were cutting in at an angle. Halloran deliberately maintained
his own steady pace.
For one brief moment he caught sight of a shadow loping through the trees, low
to the ground. It was followed by another, then another . . . he watched a
stream of shadows slinking through the undergrowth.
Strange that they didn't come straight at him, but maybe that was part of
their training, to cut off and intimidate rather than attack. He sincerely
hoped so. Could be that they'd also been trained to keep silent while they
Page 67
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
tracked their quarry. Halloran resisted the urge to break into a run, knowing
he would never outpace them: there was no point in turning back either they'd
only follow. He slid the gun from its holster and held it down by his side.
It could have been midnight, so dark had it become under the trees. The
disturbance to his right had settled as though the procession of dim shapes
had passed on its way, having had no real interest in the solitary walker.
Halloran did not relax his guard.
Something moved out into the open ahead. He could hardly make out the dog's
form so mantled was the roadway, but he could hear the soft panting. The
animal loitered there, making no other sound. Waiting for him. Soon others
joined it, slinking from the undergrowth to create an undefined obstacle
across the roadway. Their combined breathing seemed to take on a rhythm.
Halloran aimed the weapon in their direction. He moved forward again, his step
slow and steady, his body erect, offering the beasts no fear.
He heard their base, scratchy snarling. Drawing near he sensed rather than saw
those closest tensing themselves to pounce. l He was within seven or eight
feet of the nearest shadow. His steps did not falter.
Until there was a different sound, and this from behind, growing louder by the
moment. He stopped, but dared not look away from those looming shapes lest [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl exclamation.htw.pl
the unease left by the uninvited thoughts, Halloran regretted his decision. At
once he berated himself, a little astonished by his own trepidation. But then,
as he'd already acknowledged, it had been an odd day.
In the stillness around him his footsteps seemed louder than normal. Ahead the
road narrowed, trees on opposite sides linking leafy arms to form a tunnel. It
was twilight inside that tunnel.
He was too warm suddenly, the air almost too heavy to breathe. The clouds were
swollen and dark and he relished the idea of rain, or even a storm. But it was
as though the dampness was scaled into the masses above. He walked on, at
irregular intervals glancing from left to right, occasionally checking the
road behind. All was quiet. The lodge-house was a distant image, rendered
small and impotent. The road in front of him had begun to curve, no exit
visible inside the tunnel.
A stirring of ferns by the roadside, no more than a transient breeze. ,A faint
crash further within, merely a dead or broken branch shed from a tree.
Light faded as he passed beneath the canopy of leaves. It was cooler, although
not much, and Halloran quickened his pace. The more he progressed, the dimmer
became the light. Soon it was as though night had fallen prematurely. His
senses sharpened and he allowed his vision to wander, never focusing on any
particular section of forest for too long, constantly shifting his attention
from one dark area to another.
At first he thought he had imagined the snuffling, for it had been barely
audible over the sound of his own footsteps, but then it came again. He
stopped to listen. Nothing now. And that in itself was unusual, for the woods
were always full of noises of some kind, small scufflings, the flapping of
wings, an owl settling in for the night's vigil. Over many years he had
learned to discern nature's disturbances from those that might originate from
stealthy humans, the difference being that animal or natural noises generally
continued even if for no more than a second or two, whereas those caused by
humans be they hiding or stalking prey -had a tendency to cease immediately.
He resumed his journey, the tension in his stride indicating an extra
alertness. Keeping his steps as quiet as possible, Halloran moved into the
curve of the tunnel. A rustling to his right, a definite movement. He carried
on walking, a hand reaching under his jacket to the butt of the Browning. More
movement, something keeping pace with him. He began to suspect what that
something might be.
He had assumed that the dogs were controlled during the daytime and allowed to
run free at night.
Perhaps it was at dusk that their keeper set them loose on their own.
Snuffling noises again, and then a louder rustling through the undergrowth as
though the animals were hurrying to get ahead of him. Initially the sounds had
come from some distance inside the woodland, but now they were drawing close,
as if the dogs were cutting in at an angle. Halloran deliberately maintained
his own steady pace.
For one brief moment he caught sight of a shadow loping through the trees, low
to the ground. It was followed by another, then another . . . he watched a
stream of shadows slinking through the undergrowth.
Strange that they didn't come straight at him, but maybe that was part of
their training, to cut off and intimidate rather than attack. He sincerely
hoped so. Could be that they'd also been trained to keep silent while they
Page 67
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
tracked their quarry. Halloran resisted the urge to break into a run, knowing
he would never outpace them: there was no point in turning back either they'd
only follow. He slid the gun from its holster and held it down by his side.
It could have been midnight, so dark had it become under the trees. The
disturbance to his right had settled as though the procession of dim shapes
had passed on its way, having had no real interest in the solitary walker.
Halloran did not relax his guard.
Something moved out into the open ahead. He could hardly make out the dog's
form so mantled was the roadway, but he could hear the soft panting. The
animal loitered there, making no other sound. Waiting for him. Soon others
joined it, slinking from the undergrowth to create an undefined obstacle
across the roadway. Their combined breathing seemed to take on a rhythm.
Halloran aimed the weapon in their direction. He moved forward again, his step
slow and steady, his body erect, offering the beasts no fear.
He heard their base, scratchy snarling. Drawing near he sensed rather than saw
those closest tensing themselves to pounce. l He was within seven or eight
feet of the nearest shadow. His steps did not falter.
Until there was a different sound, and this from behind, growing louder by the
moment. He stopped, but dared not look away from those looming shapes lest [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]