gns.cannibalcult-第11部分

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l　transport　the　remains　of　our　Grand　Master　to　that　place　in　pany　with　she　whom　you　know　as　Madeleine　Gaufridir
　　
　　Sabat　experienced　a　sudden　sense　of　euphoria；　a　tingling　of　his　flesh　and　his　waning　strength　seemed　to　return。　The　taste　in　his　mouth　was　not　so　revolting；　almost　pleasant。　Momentary　fear　as　he　realised　just　how　strong　Quentin　had　bee　and　that　he　would　obey　the　orders　of　Andre　Schmid。
　　
　　'When　do　we　start？'　Sabat　asked。
　　
　　'Tomorrow。'　There　was　an　expression　of　gloating　on　the　plump　man's　features。　'Go　to　your　bed　now　and　spend　the　night　hours　with　she　who　was　once　the　〃Queen　of　the　Sabbath〃；　whose　hallowed　womb　took　our　Grand　Master's　seed　yet　failed　to　conceive。　Had　she　borne　his　child　then　there　would　have　been　no　problem　and　Louis　Nevillon　would　have　lived　on。　She　failed　us。　This　time　we　must　not　fail；　the　last　remains　must　be　saved　from　decay　and　oblivion！'
　　
　　Sabat　dozed　in　the　passenger　seat　of　the　old　VW　van；　his　eyelids　were　heavy　in　spite　of　a　good　night's　sleep。　Beside　him；　Madeleine　drove　relentlessly；　a　female　robot　who　handled　the　vehicle　as　efficiently　as　she　did　everything　else；　not　even　glancing　in　his　direction。　He　wondered　where　her　thoughts　were　leading　her。
　　
　　At　the　start　of　the　journey　he　had　kept　his　eyes　on　the　road；　memorised　every　signpost；　every　bend；　their　route　indelibly　imprinted　in　his　brain　so　that　he　could　have　found　it　again　with　ease；　retraced　it　if　he　had　to。　Then　drowsiness　had　begun　to　thwart　his　plans。　It　was　the　warmth　of　the　sun　through　the　glass　that　was　doing　it；　he　wound　the　window　down　a　few　inches　and　the　cool　air　streaming　in　onto　his　pallid　features　revived　him。　But　only　temporarily。　He　felt　weak；　as　though　he　could　sleep　the　sleep　of　the　exhausted。　They　were　making　sure　their　tracks　were　covered。
　　
　　Occasionally　he　wakened；　sometimes　on　a　sharp　bend　that　threw　him　against　the　door；　or　when　Madeleine　braked　hard　and　pulled　onto　the　verge　to　allow　an　oning　vehicle　to　pass。　Each　time　the　sun　was　lower　in　the　western　sky。　But　always　he　slept　again。
　　
　　Time　passed。　Sabat　stirred；　tried　to　make　himself　fortable　but　it　was　impossible。　His　neck　ached　where　it　had　cricked　and　then　a　painful　bout　of　pins　and　needles　had　him　opening　his　eyes。　It　was　dark　now。
　　
　　Madeleine　Gaufridi　gave　no　sign　that　she　was　aware　that　her　passenger　was　awake；　staring　straight　ahead　of　her　where　the　powerful　headlights　lit　up　a　narrow　road　lined　on　both　sides　by　tall　fir　trees。　A　straight　stretch　and　she　accelerated　amidst　a　rattle　of　loose　bodywork；　the　floorboards　vibrating　noisily。　A　steep　incline；　rising　all　the　time；　they　were　somewhere　up　in　the　mountains　but　Sabat　had　no　idea　where。　Neither　did　he　care。
　　
　　She　was　forced　to　change　down　into　second　gear；　operating　the　level　with　a　casualness　that　came　from　experience。　Sabat　smiled　his　admiration　for　this　strange　girl。　It　seemed　that　everything　she　did　was　done　to　perfection。　He　could　not　have　driven　better　himself。
　　
　　'I　trust　you　are　fully　refreshed　after　your　long　sleep。'　She　turned　her　head；　a　half…smile　on　her　lips。
　　
　　'Refreshed　but　hellishly　stiff；'　he　answered；　shifting　his　position　yet　again。　'Christ；　we　must　have　been　driving　for　hours。　Where　are　we？'
　　
　　'In　the　mountains；'　non…mittal；　watching　the　road　again。　'We　shall　reach　our　destination　shortly。'　She　was　a　silhouette　once　again；　apprehensive　by　the　way　she　now　gripped　the　steering　wheel　with　both　hands。
　　
　　They　came　upon　the　village　unexpectedly；　chalets　built　at　the　foot　of　a　hillside；　the　peak　of　which　was　enshrouded　by　darkness。　Silent　dwelling　places；　no　lights　showing。　Eerie。　Sabat　supposed　that　this　was　a　mountain　holiday　resort　and　it　was　too　early　in　the　year　for　the　annual　visitors　to　have　taken　up　residence；　or　a　skiing　centre　where　everybody　had　left　because　the　snows　had　melted。　So　stark　and　modern；　all　the　more　sinister　because　it　was　empty。　A　place　of　the　dead！
　　
　　Madeleine　was　slowing；　glancing　from　one　side　of　the　road　to　the　other　as　though　she　was　unfamiliar　with　her　surroundings。　More　chalets　now；　a　whole　street　of　them；　windows　like　dark　orbs　that　saw　the　newers；　the　VW's　headlights　reflected；　flashing　angrily。　The　buildings　were　petering　out　now；　just　a　few　scattered　houses；　older　ones　constructed　of　stone。
　　
　　Madeleine　Gaufridi　was　sucking　in　her　breath；　frustration　and　uncertainty　suddenly　terminating　in　an　audible　sigh　of　relief。
　　
　　'This　is　the　place；*　she　spoke　as　though　to　herself。　'I　feared　that　we　had　missed　it　or　else　it　did　not　exist。'
　　
　　Sabat　saw　a　long　stone…built　place　which　he　thought　at　first　was　a　farm　building；　possibly　a　haystore　or　a　cattle　shed。　His　eyes　narrowed　as　he　saw　a　shaft　of　light　ing　from　beneath　the　large　ill…fitting　door。　At　least　there　was　somebody　in　this　unknown　mountain　village。　But　what　was　this　place？　Madeleine　was　swinging　the　van　across　the　road　which　had　virtually　petered　out　into　a　rutted　cart…track。　She　grated　the　reverse　gear；　leaned　out　of　the　window　as　she　backed　across　the　soft　grass；　only　braked　when　she　was　a　matter　of　two　or　three　feet　from　the　lighted　doorway。
　　
　　The　silence　seemed　to　rush　at　Sabat　as　she　killed　the　engine　and　switched　off　the　lights。　The　heater　fan　groaned　to　a　halt　and　for　a　moment　Madeleine　sat　there　as　though　she　was　reluctant　to　disembark；　perhaps　wishing　she　had　not　e　here　in　the　first　place。　Then　she　moved　with　a　sudden　decisiveness；　swung　open　the　door　and　leapt　down。　'e　on；　Sabat；　we　have　work　to　do。　We　must　hurry　for　we　have　to　be　back　in　Lucerne　before　daylight。'
　　
　　Sabat　climbed　down；　slammed　the　door　with　a　metallic　clang　which　the　mountain　night　air　echoed；　a　noise　that　had　a　ring　of　finality　about　it。　His　scalp　tingled；　instinctively　he　checked　and　found　that　he　still　carried　his　？38。　That　was　strange；　for　surely　Schmid　and　his　followers　would　disarm　a　dangerous　enemy。　But　Sabat　was　no　enemy　for　was　he　not　one　of　them　now；　working　for　them；　a　fellow　cannibal　sent　to　guard　the　beautiful　'Queen　of　the　Sabbath'　on　her　nocturnal　mission？　They　had　let　him　keep　his　gun　because　they　knew　as　well　as　he　did　that　Quentin　Sabat　would　not　use　it　against　them。
　　
　　The　heavy　door　was　swinging　open　noiselessly　on　well…oiled　hinges　as　though　their　arrival　had　been　anticipated。　Possibly　the　vehicle　had　been　seen　or　heard。
　　
　　Sabat　checked；　felt　Madeleine's　fingers　clutching　at　his　arm。　She；　too；　was　drawing　back；　afraid　to　enter　this　mysterious　lighted　place。　They　had　an　unrestricted　view　of　the　interior。　At　some　time　it　had　obviously　been　a　small　chapel；　a　raised　floor　at　the　rear　on　which　an　altar　had　once　stood；　high　windows　that　might；　many　years　ago；　have　been　of　stained　glass　but　were　now　crudely　boarded　up。　Where　the　pews　had　stood　on　either　side　of　the　narrow　aisle　there　were　now　long　slabs　of　white　marble　supported　by　heavy　oak　trestles。　Two　or　three　shrouded　immobile　shapes　lay　on　them　which　could　only　be　corpses　awaiting　burial！
　　

　　'It's　a　morgue！'　Sabat　hissed。
　　
　　'Yes；'　Madeleine's　voice　trembled　with　a　nervousness　that　reminded　Sabat　of　their　first　meeting　in　the　Ice　Palace　on　the　topmost　slopes　of　the　Jungfrau；　an　encounter　that　now　seemed　unreal　and　almost　lost　in　the　mists　of　time；　the　beginning　of　a　deception。　'This　is　the　chapel　of　the　mountain　dead；　the　place　where　the　goatherds　are　brought　when　they　die；　for　their　families　are　too　poor　to　pay　for　transport　and　a　funeral　in　the　lower　regions。'
　　
　　'Somebody's　ing！'　Sabat　stiffened；　noted　a　small　door　at　the　rear　of　the　interior；　perhaps　once　the　entrance　to　a　vestry；　opening　slowly。
　　
　　'This　will　be　Monsieur　Grien；'　Madeleine　shuddered。　'He　is　the　keeper　of　the　dead；　the　mortician　of　the　mountains！'
　　
　　Sabat's　first　impression　of　Monsieur　Grien　was　one　of　utter　revulsion；　no　twisted　hunchbacked　grotesque　dwarf　so　monplace　in　B…rated　horror　movies　could　have　pared　with　the　figure　which　shuffled　into　view。　The　other　was　clad　in　some　kind　of　homespun　overalls　of　a　dirty　grey　colour　that　were　splashed　and　stained　with　dark　crimson；　filth　and　dried　blood　ingrained　in　the　coarse　material。　The　head　was　bald；　reflected　the　light