rr.eastofealing-第32部分

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　'The　odds　are　in　its　favour。　Kindly　show　us　the　way　out。'
　'There's　no　other　exit。'
　'Then　find　us　a　place　to　hide；　someone　must　continue　to　serve　the　cause；　even　if　you　are　indisposed。'
　'Yes；　fair　do's；'　Jim　agreed；　as　the　pounding　rattled　ornaments　and　nerves　alike。　'If　it's　the　other　you；　then　he　may　not　know　John　and　I　are　here。　We　at　least　should　hide　until　the　bloodshed　is　over。'
　'Oh；　thanks　very　much；　pals。'
　'We'd　do　the　same　for　you。'
　'e　again？'
　'Open　up　there。'　A　voice　from　without　brought　the　ludicrous　conversation　to　a　halt。
　'It's　Sherlock　Holmes；'　said　Omally。　'Let　him　in。'
　Soap　hastened　to　unfasten　the　front　door。　'Close　it　without　delay。'　The　detective　pressed　himself　inside。　'They　are　hard　upon　my　heels。'
　'How　did　you　know　where　I　lived？'　Soap　pressed　the　bolts　home。
　'No　matter。　Are　you　three　tooled　up？'
　Omally　shook　his　head　and　fell　back　into　his　seat。　Pooley　did　likewise。　'Would　you　care　for　another　splash　of　carrot；　Jim？'　Omally　waggled　the　bottle　towards　Pooley。
　'Another　would　be　fine。　So　how　goes　the　game　afoot；　Sherlock？'
　'A　bit　iffy　as　it　happens。'　Holmes　drew　out　his　revolver　and　flattened　himself　against　the　front　wall。
　Jim　rattled　his　glass　against　the　bottle's　neck。　'And　you　have　brought　the　lads　down　here　after　us。　Most　enterprising。'
　'I　never　really　believed　in　him；　you　know；'　said　John；　now　refreshing　his　own　glass。
　'I　looked　it　all　up　in　the　library；'　Pooley　replied。
　'The　evidence　is　very　much　against　him。　Purely　fictitious；　I　so　believe。'
　'Wise　up；'　said　Sherlock　Holmes。　'These　mothers　mean　business。'
　The　sounds　of　terrible　ghost　train　screaming　leant　weight　to　his　conviction。　From　beyond；　something　malevolent　was　surging　forward　from　the　darkness。　Pooley　covered　his　ears　and　crossed　his　eyes。　Omally　snatched　up　a　Biba　table…lamp　and　prepared　once　more　to　do　battle。　If　the　awful　screaming　was　not　bad　enough；　the　sounds　which　acpanied　it　were　sufficient　to　put　the　wind　up　even　Saint　Anthony　himself。　Hideous　slurpings　and　suckings；　as　of　some　gigantic　mollusc；　and　thrashing　sounds；　dragging　chains　and　clicking　joints。　All　in　all；　anything　but　a　Christmas　hamper。
　Omally　turned　towards　Holmes；　who　now　crouched　facing　the　door；　Magnum　forty…four　poised　once　more　between　his　outstretched　hands。　'What　in　the　name　of　the　Holies　is　it？'　he　shouted　above　the　growing　din。
　'It　came　at　me　from　a　basement　opening。　I　have　only　seen　its　like　before　amongst　the　work　of　Hieronymous　Bosch。'
　This　remark　meant　little　to　Omally　who　had　always　thought　a　Bosch　to　be　an　expensive　sports　car。　But　that　the　something　which　was　approaching　was　very　very　nasty　and　somewhat　overlarge　seemed　on　the　cards。
　As　the　first　concussion　shook　the　front　wall；　Holmes　fired　point…blank　into　the　door。　A　gale…force　icy　wind　swept　through　the　bullet…hole；　like　a　blast　from　a　ruptured　gas…pipe。　A　fetid　odour　filled　the　room；　the　stench　of　the　very　pit　itself；　of　all　the　world's　carrion　congealed　into　a　single　rotting　mass。　Holmes　staggered　back　into　Omally；　coughing　and　gagging。　The　Irishman　fell　to　his　knees；　covering　his　nose；　and　retching　violently。　Outside；　the　thing　lashed　at　the　door　with　redoubled　fury。　The　iron　hinges　screamed　in　anguish；　echoing　those　of　the　satanic　emissary　of　death。　Beneath　the　throbbing　door；　slim；　barbed　hooks　worked　and　tore。　A　yellow　haze　of　brimstone　coloured　the　unbreathable　air　and　the　room　shook　and　shivered　beneath　the　hellish　assault。
　Omally　crawled　over　to　Soap　Distant；　who　had　wisely　assumed　the　foetal　position　beneath　the　table。　'You've　got　to　get　us　out；'　he　shouted；　tearing　away　the　hands　clamped　about　the　albino　head。　'There　has　to　be　a　way。'
　'No　way。'　Soap　tore　himself　from　Omally's　hold。　'No　way。'
　Shivers　of　woodwork　flew　from　the　bottom　of　the　door　as　the　evil　barbs；　now　showing　porcupine　quills　and　scorpion　tails　thrashing　about　them；　stripped　the　Ronseal　finish　clear　down　to　the　filled　knot…holes。　Omally　stumbled　to　his　feet。　Sherlock　Holmes　was　standing　alone　in　the　whirlwind；　a　speckled　band　tied　bandana…fashion　across　his　face。　A　finger　in　the　air。　The　doyen　of　dicks　was　definitely　off　his　trolley；　thought　John。　As　if　reading　his　thoughts；　Holmes　suddenly　struck　him　a　weltering　blow　to　the　skull。　Caught　in　surprise　John　hit　the　deck。　Holmes　leapt　down　upon　him　and　pointed　frantically　through　the　swirling；　cascading　stench。　'Fireplace；'　he　shouted；　his　voice　all　but　lost　amidst　the　screaming；　the　hurricane；　and　the　splintering　woodwork。　'Up　the　chimney；　get　going；　quick。'
　It　took　very　little　time　for　Omally　to　cop　on。　Grabbing　the　huddled　Pooley　firmly　by　the　collar；　he　dragged　him　towards　what　was　surely　the　only　hope　of　escape。　Holmes　stepped　over　to　Soap　and　booted　him　in　the　ribcage。　Soap　peered　up　bitterly　towards　his　tormentor；　a　dizzy　blur；　lost　for　the　most　part　in　the　maelstrom　of　tearing　elements。　Holmes　stretched　deftly　forward　and　hooked　a　pair　of　fingers　into　the　sub…Earther's　nostrils。　'Lead　us　out！'　he　cried；　bearing　him　aloft。　Whimpering　and　howling；　but　somehow　happy　for　the　nose…plugs；　Soap　staggered　forward。　Holmes　thrust　his　head　first　into　the　fireplace　and　then；　suddenly　enlightened；　Soap　turned　towards　his　persecutor　with　a　nodding；　smiling　head　and　gestured　upwards。　Within　a　moment　he　was　scrabbling　into　the　darkness　above。　Omally　pressed　Jim　onwards　and　followed　hard　upon　his　heels。　Holmes　spun　about；　revolver　in　hand；　as　the　door　burst　from　its　hinges　to　spin　a　million　whirling　fragments　about　him。　The　icy　gale　tore　his　tweedy　jacket　from　his　shoulders　as　the　thing　rolled　into　the　room；　a　tangle　of　barbs；　quills　and　spikes；　whipping　and　lashing　and　screaming；　screaming。　The　great　detective　held　his　ground　and　fired　off　his　revolver　again　and　again　into　the　spinning　ball　of　death　as　it　charged　towards　him。
　The　wind　and　the　terror　ing　from　below　spurred　on　the　three…man　escape　mittee　as　it　crept　higher　and　higher　up　the　narrow　black　chimney。　Soap's　voice　called　down　from　above；　'e　on；　lads；　shouldn't　be　more　than　a　mile　at　most。'　Pooley　mumbled　and　plained；　but　Omally；　who　was　tail…end　Charlie　and　in　the　most　vulnerable　position；　bit　him　in　the　ankle。　A　howl　of　pain　and　a　sudden　acceleration　from　Jim　assured　the　struggling　Irishman　that　the　message　was　well…received。
　The　going　was　far　from　certain　and　made　ever　more　perilous　by　the　cramped　space　and　the　plete　and　utter　darkness。　Stones　and　grit　tumbled　down　into　the　climbers'　faces。　Soap　trod　upon　Jim's　hands　and　Jim　out　of　fairness　trod　upon　John's。　Higher　and　higher　up　the　slim　shaft　of　hope　they　clambered　until　at　last　they　could　no　longer　feel　the　icy　wind　rushing　from　below　or　the　awful　stench　souring　their　nostrils。　They　paused　a　moment；　clinging　to　what　they　could　for　dear　life；　to　catch　their　breath；　and　cough　up　what　was　left　of　their　lungs。
　'How　much　farther；　Soap？'　Omally　wiped　at　his　streaming　eyes　and　strained　to　support　himself　whilst　delving　in　his　pockets　for　a　fag。
　'A　goodly　way　and　all　of　it　straight　up。'
　'There　is　actually　an　opening　at　the　top？'　Jim　ventured。　'I　mean　I'd　just　hate　to　climb　all　this　way　and　find　myself　peering　out　of　a　ventilation　duct　in　Lateinos　and　Romiith's　basement。'
　'Hm。　To　be　quite　candid；　this　digging　is　one　of　the　great　granddaddy's。　We　shall　have　to　trust　to　the　luck　of　the　Distants。'
　'Oh；　very　forting。　Ooh；　ow；　ouch！'
　'Sorry；　Jim。　Did　I　singe　your　bum？'
　'Pass　me　up　that　fag；　you　clumsy　oaf。'
　'Smoking　cigarettes　can　harm　your　health；'　said　Soap。　'Ooh；　ow；　ouch！'
　'Onward；　Christian　Soldier；'　said　Jim；　withdrawing　the　lighted　fag　from　Soap's　trouser　seat。
　The　three　continued　their　bleak　and　harrowing　journey；　now　illuminated　by　the　firefly…glow　of　three　burning　cigarettes。　The　first　hour　was　really　quite　uneventful；　other　than　for　the　occasional　minor　avalanche　which　threatened　to　plunge　them　to　a　most　uninviting　oblivion。　It　was　several　minutes　into　the　second　that　things　took　a　most　depressing　turn　for　the　worst。
　'I　hate　to　tell　you　this；'　said　Soap　Distant；　'but　I've　run　out　of　passage。'
　'You've　bloody　what？　Careful　there；　that's　my　damn　hand　you're　treading　on。'
　'Get　a　move　on；　Pooley。'
　'Shut　up；　John。'
　'Stop　the　two　of　you；　for　God's　sake。　I　can't　climb　any　higher。'
　'Then　get　to　one　side　and　let　us　pass。'
　'He　means　the　passage　has　e　to　an　end；　John。'
　'Then　stand　aside　and　let　me　kill　him。'
　'Shut　up；　I　can　see　daylight。'
　'What？'
　The　three　men　strained　their　eyes　into　the　darkness　above。　In　the　far　distance　a　dim　light　showed。　A　mere　pinprick；　yet　it　was　some　kind　of　hope；　although　not　a　lot。
　'Get　a　move　on；'　yelled　Omally。
　'I've　told　you；　something's　blocking　my　way。'
　'I　just　knew　it；'　said　Jim；　with　the　voice　of　one　who　just　knew　it。　'No　way　up；　no　way　down。　Doomed　to　starve　here　until　we　drop　away　one　by　one　like　little　shrivelled　up。。。'
　'Give　it　a　rest；　Jim。　What's　in　the　way；　Soap？'
　Soap　prodded　above。　'Some　old　grill　or　grating；　rusty　as　hell。'
　'Easy　on　the　descriptions。'
　'Solid　as　a　rock　also。'
　'Doom　and　desolation　oh　misery；　misery。'
　'I　have　plenty　of　fuel　in　my　lighter；　Jim。'
　'Sorry；　John。　Can't　you　wiggle　it　loose；　Soap？'
　'It's　bloody　rusted　in。　Can't　you　hear　what　I'm　saying？'
　'Let　me　ge