gns.cannibalcult-第21部分

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。　He　was　too　engrossed　in　watching　the　finale　of　this　latest　hunt。　Tomorrow　he　would　embark　upon　another。
　　
　　Now　there　was　only　the　sound　of　crackling　flames　and　crashing　timbers；　the　night　sky　lit　up　by　this　huge　funeral　pyre；　the　execution　chamber　of　the　damned。
　　
　　'They　are　all　dead；'　de　Lancre　wiped　the　barrels　of　his　pistols　on　his　cloak；　pushed　them　into　his　belt　'That　is　another　job　well　done；　Sabat。　A　satisfactory　conclusion　and　all　due　to　you　for　leading　me　here　to　them。　My　friend；　I　am　in　your　debt。　If　you　ever　have　need　of　me　do　not　hesitate　to　call　upon　me。　Do　that　and　Pierre　de　Lancre　will　e；　that　I　promise。'
　　
　　And　then　the　witchfinder　was　gone；　a　fleeting　shadow　that　merged　into　other　shadows　and　left　Sabat　standing　there　alone；　bemused；　wondering　about　Madeleine　and　if　she　still　lived。　His　one　consolation　was　that　he　had　heeded　her　plea　and　put　his　bullet　wide。　If　she　still　lived　and　kept　her　promise　then　she　was　his。
　　
　　It　was　an　exciting　thought；　one　that　caused　him　to　awake　with　an　erection　and　do　things　to　himself　as　he　looked　at　the　still　slumbering　form　of　Madeleine　Gaufridi　beside　him　in　the　cold　grey　early　morning　light。
　　
　　'You　must　destroy　them　all；　Sabat'　Madeleine　followed　him　to　the　door　after　they　had　both　breakfasted　on　the　cold　meat　from　the　previous　night's　'roast'。　'It　will　not　be　easy　but　the　future　of　you　and　I　and　Louis　depend　upon　it。　Take　the　Renault。　It　is　stolen　so　take　care　in　case　the　police　spot　it。　When　your　work　is　done　return　here　and　you　will　be　well　rewarded；　that　I　promise　you。'
　　
　　Sabat　walked　across　the　clearing　to　the　parked　Renault；　got　the　feeling　that　it　was　a　kind　of　repeat　performance；　a　re…run　of　the　time　he'd　been　sent　to　get　Daunay。　Misgivings　clouded　his　brain；　bringing　on　a　depression　that　had　not　really　left　him　since　that　dream　about　the　witch　of　Labourd。
　　
　　Pierre　de　Lancre's　words　hammered　until　his　temples　throbbed。　'If　you　ever　have　need　of　me　do　not　hesitate　to　call　me。　Do　that　and　Pierre　de　Lancre　will　e；　that　I　promise*
　　
　　And　Sabat　knew　that　he　needed　help；　for　once　in　his　life　he　could　not　go　it　alone。
　　
　　
　　　CHAPTER　FOURTEEN
　　　
　　SABAT　HAD　left　the　Renault　on　the　outskirts　of　Lucerne。　He　dared　not　risk　the　possibility　of　being　stopped　by　police　on　the　lookout　for　the　stolen　car。　He　boarded　a　bus；　then　walked　the　rest　of　the　way　to　the　mune；　not　hurrying　because　there　was　plenty　of　time。
　　
　　From　across　the　road　it　was　barely　visible　through　the　trees　and　bushes；　just　a　glimpse　of　a　roof　and　a　chimney　that　had　a　faint　wisp　of　smoke　curling　up　from　it。　The　cannibal　cult　were　at　home。　He　walked　on；　found　a　recreation　park；　and　spent　an　hour　or　two　relaxing　on　a　bench　by　the　side　of　a　pond。
　　
　　Already　it　was　evening；　houses　on　the　opposite　side　of　the　street　beginning　to　cast　their　shadows。　There　was　not　much　time　left　and　he　still　had　not　formulated　a　definite　plan。　The　weight　of　the　？38　back　in　its　holster　was　forting。　Maybe　that　was　the　only　way；　to　go　in　there　shooting；　take　as　many　of　them　with　him　as　possible　before　the　sheer　weight　of　numbers　bore　him　down。　No；　it　had　to　be　more　subtle　than　that。
　　
　　His　dream　of　the　previous　night　had　never　really　left　him。　He　thought　of　Pierre　de　Lancre。　At　a　time　such　as　this　there　was　no　better　man　to　have　on　one's　side。　But　it　had　only　been　a　dream　and　there　was　no　chance　of　the　witchfinder　ing。　Had　Sabat　met　him　on　the　astral　plane　then　there　would　have　been　a　faint　prospect　of　help。
　　
　　A　similar　situation：　that　place　in　his　dreams；　the　coven　trapped　inside　by　fire。　But　it　would　not　work　here。　This　was　a　thriving　city。。。　an　army　of　fire…engines　would　be　screaming　to　the　scene　before　the　first　smoke　pall　had　a　chance　to　settle；　the　flames　doused　within　minutes。
　　
　　And　then　he　knew；　a　solution　that　came　to　him　with　shattering　suddenness。　A　blinding　inspiration　and　so　damnably　simple。　The　rope　triangle　oft　used　by　the　powers　of　evil　to　imprison　their　victims　in　a　particular　place；　a　device　that　was　more　secure　than　any　lock　or　key！　The　accursed　could　not　break　it；　only　an　exorcist　could　gain　entrance　unharmed　and　free　those　trapped　inside。
　　
　　Euphoria　that　dispelled　his　mounting　depression　instantly；　so　that　he　had　to　fight　to　control　his　emotions。　He　had　not　thought　of　it　because　he　was　（had　been！）　Mark　Sabat；　exorcist。　He　had　remembered　it　because　he　was　Quentin　Sabat；　one　of　the　ungodly　who　knew　it　as　a　device　of　the　evil　forces！　Furthermore；　he　would　use　it。　There　was　still　a　little　time　left。　In　all　probability　Schmid　and　his　followers　would　not　leave　before　nightfall。
　　
　　Sabat　walked　away　quickly；　having　to　restrain　himself　from　breaking　into　a　run。　Some　suburban　shops。　He　noted　their　signs：　a　newsagent；　a　grocer。。。　an　electrician。　Cursing　beneath　his　breath；　again　almost　running。　The　end　of　the　street；　a　T…junction。　Right　or　left？
　　
　　He　chose　the　left　because　that　was　what　he　believed　in。　They　had　given　him　a　sign。　Surely　it　was　an　omen。　He　turned　to　his　left；　a　fast　walk　that　ate　up　the　yards。
　　
　　More　shops；　closer　together　in　the　form　of　a　precinct。　A　confectioner's；　a　tobacconist。。。　a　sports　shop。
　　
　　His　one　fear　was　that　it　might　be　closed；　that　he　would　have　to　take　the　risk　of　breaking　and　entering　to　get　what　he　wanted。　As　he　approached　the　glass　door　he　saw　a　young　man　dressed　in　a　fawn　sweater　with　trousers　to　match　in　the　act　of　turning　the　key。
　　
　　This　time　Sabat　ran；　a　sprint　of　several　yards；　pushing　at　the　door；　mouthing　to　the　one　on　the　other　side。　A　look　of　surprise　and　annoyance　on　the　shopkeeper's　face　but　he　unlocked　the　door；　kept　a　foot　behind　it。
　　
　　'I　am　sorry；　monsieur；　but　we　have　been　closed　a　quarter　of　an　hour。　I　was　stock…taking；　had　forgotten　to　lock　the　door。'
　　
　　'Please。。。　please；　I　will　not　take　up　more　than　a　few　moments　of　your　time。　I　need　two　skipping　ropes。'
　　
　　'Skipping　ropes！'Incredulity；　raised　eyebrows。'Monsieur；　there　is　no　urgency；　surely。　Tomorrow。。。'
　　
　　'But　there　〃！'　Sabat　was　trying　not　to　appear　petulant。　'My　twin　sons。　It　is　their　birthday　tomorrow　and　I　had　promised　them　skipping　ropes　but　with　the　pressures　of　business　I　forgot。　Please；　monsieur。'
　　
　　The　other　sighed；　flung　back　the　door。　'e　inside。　But　please　be　quick。　I　have　a　meal　to　go　home　to　and　my　wife　is　not　a　patient　woman。'
　　
　　Sabat　stepped　inside；　saw　the　ropes　he　needed　so　badly　folded　on　a　shelf　behind　the　counter。　He　snatched　a　couple　up；　fumbled　with　some　franc　notes；　dropped　three　on　the　glass…topped　counter。
　　
　　'Your　change；　monsieur！'
　　
　　But　Sabat　was　not　interested　in　change。　Out　of　the　shop；　retracing　his　steps　across　the　precinct；　fumbling　to　unfasten　the　folded　nylon　rope。　His　fingers　moved　deftly；　knotted　ends　which　would　suffice　when　hung　in　triangular　formation。
　　
　　Another　thought；　a　frightening　one　because　he　had　almost　forgotten。　The　newsagent　was　still　open；　selling　late　evening　papers。　Sabat　sighed　with　relief；　purchased　a　packet　of　drawing　pins。　He　had　almost　overlooked　them。
　　
　　The　shadows　had　nearly　reached　the　other　side　of　the　road。　The　streetlights　were　already　on；　seeming　to　make　the　gathering　dusk　deepen。　Sabat　walked　further　down　from　the　mune　entrance；　knew　that　he　would　have　to　bide　his　time　until　full　darkness　fell；　when　he　could　move　unseen　to　affix　the　ropes　on　both　the　front　and　back　doors。　It　would　only　take　a　matter　of　a　minute　or　two。　Beyond　that　he　had　no　plans。　He　would　leave　the　rest　to　Andre　Schmid！
　　
　　Dusk　seemed　to　take　an　eternity　blending　into　darkness。　Sabat　thought　about　risking　his　furtive　mission　but　patience　was　essential。　One　mistake　and　he　would　not　get　a　second　chance。
　　
　　Finally　he　moved；　walking　cat…like　on　tip…toe；　crouching；　the　shadows　of　the　overhanging　trees　swallowing　him　up。　He　paused　in　the　drive；　several　of　the　upstairs　windows　were　lighted　but　the　ground　floor　was　in　darkness。　Again　he　was　reminded　of　that　house　at　Labourd。　A　figure　passed　briefly　across　the　window；　just　a　naked　male　torso；　rolls　of　fat　that　resembled　a　woman's　breasts。　Andre　Schmid！
　　
　　Sabat　crept　to　the　door；　three　drawing　pins　in　his　left　hand；　the　rope　in　his　right。　The　wood　was　soft　and　rotten；　the　sharp　points　going　in　easily。　Fifteen　seconds；　maybe　less；　and　the　front　entrance　was　barred　to　all　who　sought　to　leave　or　enter。　He　smiled　faintly　in　the　darkness；　then　moved　on；　following　the　wall　to　his　left。
　　
　　The　rear　door　was　dealt　with　just　as　swiftly　and　then　Sabat　was　standing　back　in　the　shadows　admiring　his　handiwork；　remembering　how　he　himself　had　once　been　the　victim　of　an　almost　identical　psychic　attack。　It　hadn't　worked；　simply　because　he　had　the　gift　of　exorcism；　had　been　able　to　break　the　barrier。　This　coven　would　not　have　that　advantage；　their　evil　magic　would　be　no　match　for　the　power　of　Quentin！
　　
　　He　stepped　back　into　the　shrubs　lining　the　short　drive　and　waited。　He　had　to　stay　and　see　what　happened。　If　by　any　chance　they　managed　to　break　out。。。　he　fingered　the　butt　of　his　？38　inside　his　jacket。　There　would　be　only　one　course　left　open　to　him　if　that　happened。
　　
　　He　listened　intently；　tried　to　determine　what　was　happening　in　that　upper　storey。　Muffled　conversation；　a　girl　was　squealing；　others　were　laughing。　Apparently　the　cannibal　cult　could　not　wait　until　they　got　to　the　old　chapel　for　the　orgies　to　begin。
　　
　　Shouting。　Sabat　recognised　Schmid's　angry　tones。　Things　were　getting　out　of　control　and　the　mune　leader　was　anxious　that　everybody　prepared　themselves　for　Walpurgisnacht　and　whatever　it　held　for　them。
　　
　　Sabat　tensed；　heard　them　ing　downstairs；　a　shambling　rabble　high　on　drugs　and　alcohol；　their　appetites　whetted　for　a　feast　of　human　flesh！　He　pressed　himself　back　into　the　bushes；　drew　his　'？38；　waited。
　　
　　Andre　Schmid；　clutching　a　portmanteau　containing　his　robes　and　various　impedimenta　needed　for　the　ing　black　mass；　turned　back　to　survey　his　followers。　Rabble；　the　scum　of　the　continent。　They　didn't　understand；　just　did　it　for　kicks；　but　they　had　their　uses。　A　fair…haired　girl　dressed　in　filthy　worn　jeans　was　mopping　at　a　damp　patch　on　her　th