Hungry Moon by Ramsey Campbell

Author:Ramsey Campbell [Campbell, Ramsey]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Druids and Druidism, England, Christian Ministry, Science Fiction, Horror, Evangelistic Work, General, Fiction, Religion, Evangelism
ISBN: 9780747246275
Publisher: Macmillan

'Jeremy, you mean,' Jeremy said with a hint of impatience. 'Never mind, there's a breakdown van in town, near the playing field, I think. Let's go and get ours towed back.' He was obviously anxious to be among the lights. As she stumbled with him, she stared desperately over her shoulder at the woods. Jonathan was in there, or somewhere in the dark, and there was nothing she wouldn't do to get him back.

THIRTY SIX

'This is the weather for us, eh, Mr Gloom?'

'Too many bloody lights about for my taste, Mr Despondency.'

'Give the folk time to get used to the dark and happen they'll put out the lights themselves.'

'If they keep us waiting much longer, it'll be me who'll be putting out their lights for them, you can bet your eyes on that.'

'I'll bet theirs if it's all the same to you. But they're an adaptable lot round here, I reckon. They'll change for anyone who brings a bit of light into their lives, change into anything. All except the likes of that Eustace Gift.'

'Don't tell anyone, will you, but I think he's listening.'

'If you ask me, he's sitting in there by himself still wondering if they kept the post away from him because of what he said in front of everyone up there last Sunday.'

'Aye, and sitting brooding about how nobody will give him the time of day after that.'

'Even if they knew it any more.'

Eustace had had enough. He switched off the video-cassette of Sons of the Desert and darted to the window. 'Hey up,' a voice warned, and there was silence in the street, where he could see nothing but two streetlamps and the segments of terrace and front gardens they illuminated. He ran to the front door, down the path to his gate.

Three figures stood just outside the glow of the lamp at the end of the lane. The lamp lit an almost vertical slope of the moor, spiky with grass. Had he been hearing three voices? Perhaps they hadn't said all that he'd seemed to hear, but he was sure they had been talking about him. He stepped onto the pavement for a better look at them, and they turned toward him.

He couldn't help recoiling. Their faces looked blank and white as eggs. It must be the dark, for he couldn't even see what they were wearing; it must be the dark that made them seem thin as insects. The dark was behind everything, and he couldn't bear the way it had trapped him in a town that loathed him. It felt like the embodiment of that hatred, a medium that wanted to blind and suffocate him, wipe him out altogether. He backed away from it, into his cottage.

He'd hardly closed the door and stumped into the living room when the voices recommenced beyond the open window. 'Didn't dare come near us, did he, Mr Gloom?'

'Wasn't even sure he could hear us, Mr Despondency.'

'Keep them confused, that's the ticket,' the third voice said. The others

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