[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

Mick nodded.
 Military exercises . . .? Judd s smile had broadened. He could
see the headlines already  exclusive reports of secret
manoeuvres in the depths of the Yugoslavian countryside. Russian
tanks perhaps, tactical exercises being held out of the West s
prying sight. With luck, he would be the carrier of this news.
Boom.
Boom.
There were birds in the air. The thunder was louder now.
It did sound like guns.
 It s over the next ridge . . . said Judd.
 I don t think we should go any further.
 I have to see.
 I don t. We re not supposed to be here.
 I don t see any signs.
 They ll cart us away; deport us - I don t know - I just think -,
Boom.
 I ve got to see.
The words were scarcely out of his mouth when the screaming
started.
Podujevo was screaming: a death-cry. Someone buried in the
weak flank had died of the strain, and had begun a chain of decay
in the system. One man loosed his neighbour
and that neighbour loosed his, spreading a cancer of chaos
through the body of the city. The coherence of the towering
structure deteriorated with terrifying rapidity as the failure of one
part of the anatomy put unendurable pressure on the other.
The masterpiece that the good citizens of Podujevo had
constructed of their own flesh and blood tottered and then
 a dynamited skyscraper, it began to fall.
The broken flank spewed citizens like a slashed artery spitting
blood. Then, with a graceful sloth that made the agonies of the
citizens all the more horrible, it bowed towards the earth, all its
limbs dissembling as it fell.
The huge head, that had brushed the clouds so recently, was
flung back on its thick neck. Ten thousand mouths spoke a single
scream for its vast mouth, a wordless, infinitely pitiable appeal to
the sky. A howl of loss, a howl of anticipation, a howl of
puzzlement. How, that scream demanded, could the day of days
end like this, in a welter of falling bodies?
 Did you hear that?
It was unmistakably human, though almost deafeningly loud.
Judd s stomach convulsed. He looked across at Mick, who was as
white as a sheet.
Judd stopped the car.
 No, said Mick.
 Listen  for Christ s sake  , The din of dying moans,
appeals and imprecations flooded the air. It was very close.
 We ve got to go on now, Mick implored.
Judd shook his head. He was prepared for some military
spectacle  all the Russian army massed over the next hill
 but that noise in his ears was the noise of human flesh
 too human for words. It reminded him of his childhood
imaginings of Hell; the endless, unspeakable torments his
mother had threatened him with if he failed to embrace Christ. It
was a terror he d forgotten for twenty years. But suddenly, here it
was again, fresh-faced. Maybe the pit itself gaped just over the
next horizon, with his mother standing at its lip, inviting him to taste
its punishments.
 If you won t drive, I will.
Mick got out of the car and crossed in front of it, glancing up
the track as he did so. There was a moment s hesitation, no more
than a moment s, when his eyes flickered with disbelief, before he
turned towards the windscreen, his face even paler than it had
been previously and said:
 Jesus Christ. . . in a voice that was thick with suppressed
nausea.
His lover was still sitting behind the wheel, his head in his
hands, trying to blot out memories.
 Judd.. .
Judd looked up, slowly. Mick was staring at him like a wildman,
his face shining with a sudden, icy sweat. Judd looked past him. A
few metres ahead the track had mysteriously darkened, as a tide
edged towards the car, a thick, deep tide of blood. Judd s reason
twisted and turned to make any other sense of the sight than that
inevitable conclusion. But there was no saner explanation. It was
blood, in unendurable abundance, blood without end  And now,
in the breeze, there was the flavour of freshly - opened carcasses:
the smell out of the depths of the human body, part sweet, part
savoury.
Mick stumbled back to the passenger s side of the VW and
fumbled weakly at the handle. The door opened suddenly and he
lurched inside, his eyes glazed.
 Back up, he said.
Judd reached for the ignition. The tide of blood was already
sloshing against the front wheels. Ahead, the world had been
painted red.
 Drive, for fuck s sake, drive!
 Judd was making no attempt to start the car.
 We must look, he said, without conviction,  we have to.
 We don t have to do anything, said Mick,  but get the hell out
of here. It s not our business . . .
 Plane-crash  ,  There s no smoke.  Those are human
voices. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]