Bücher online kostenlos Kostenlos Online Lesen
Tunnels 03, Freefall

Tunnels 03, Freefall

Titel: Tunnels 03, Freefall Kostenlos Bücher Online Lesen
Autoren: Roderick Gordon , Brian Williams
Vom Netzwerk:
mouth.
    "You haven't seen him, have you?" Mrs. Burrows asked. "There were a couple of unconfirmed sightings of him round here before Christmas."
    "I..." he started, then seemed to change his mind. "Smoke?" he offered. In a flash Bloggsy was there with an open packet of Marlboros. Mrs. Burrows took one, and Speed lit it for her before he lit his own.
    Mrs. Burrows drew hard on her cigarette. "Listen, anything you tell me, it'll stay between you and me," she promised. "No police."
    "No police," Speed repeated. He looked up and down the street, then leant in towards her, dropping his voice to a confidential whisper. "November time, he was back here in Highfield with a younger kid--"
    "Mini-Me... and that monster pit bull," Bloggsy chimed in.
    Speed gave him a harsh look and he immediately fell silent.
    "--a younger kid that looked just like him, and he also had a bloody large canine with him. They were on their way to the tube when me and Bloggsy bumped into them. Y'know, Will and I were never mates, so we didn't exactly stop to chat."
    So you only saw him the once?"
    "Yes," Speed confirmed. "Word on the street is he's got some really heavy geezers on his case and he's gone to ground, but he's coming back soon to sort them out. And we say respect to him for that."
    "Respect," echoed Bloggsy.
    "And if you do find Will, you tell him from me," Speed said, stabbing the air with his cigarette to emphasize what he was saying, "That we didn't always see eye to eye, but that was then. If he wants help, he knows where he can come."
    "I'll do that. Thanks," Mrs. Burrows said, watching as they both ambled away, hands in pockets.
    And through the window in the rear door of an old and battered van parked up in the square, Mrs. Burrows herself was being watched. Drake increased the magnification on his monocular, zooming in so he could see her face more clearly. "Careful who you talk to, Celia. You never can tell," he said under his breath. "Not until it's too late."
    Mrs. Burrows took a thoughtful drag from her cigarette, then studied it in her hand.
    "You're not going to finish that," Drake predicted. "Reminds you too much of your sister Jean. You're not like her."
    Mrs. Burrows raised the cigarette to her lips, but seemed to think better of it. With a shake of her head, she carefully dropped it down a drain at the curbside, then began to move off.
    "Good girl," Drake said. He put away his monocular and got ready to follow her.

    * * * * *

    Everything had lost its meaning for Will. Playing chess was out of the question -- he couldn't begin to concentrate on it, and he realized he hadn't as much as opened his journal for weeks. He could hardly bring himself to eat the food Martha put out for him. He was finding it difficult to sleep -- every time he lay down, he felt as if his head was going to burst. And every time he was with Chester, the unspoken question hung between them. Should we go? Should we go?
    And as for Elliott, he wondered at what point the cut-off came, the point at which she would become too ill to move. Watching her fit like that had been the last straw. He felt so powerless to do anything to help her.
    He'd begun to ask himself whether he and Chester should leave Elliott at the shack with Martha, and set out by themselves, but he couldn't see how that would work. What if they were successful and came across something or someone, but couldn't find their way back to the shack again? Or what if they found help but it was too far away, and they didn't arrive back in time to help her? Or what if, by some stroke of luck, they found a route out of the Pore -- would they take it, then come back down again? No, Will decided, the only way it would work was if they took Elliott with them.
    But he couldn't bring himself to tell Chester it was time -- and he wasn't sure how Chester would react if he did.
    The only part of his old routine he clung to was rummaging through the trunks of salvaged items.
    Now, as he wandered around to the rear of the shack with Bartleby lolloping along at his side, Rebecca called out to him.
    "How's Elliott? Any better?"
    Will glanced at Rebecca's hut, seeing her face through the open doorway. "No, she's--" he began to answer, then caught himself. He'd been so preoccupied with his concerns that he'd quite forgotten who was addressing him. "Don't talk to me," he scowled. "It's none of your business!"
    Entering the outbuilding, he stood before the trunks and chests in one of the corners that he

Weitere Kostenlose Bücher