Necroscope 012 - E-Branch 002 - Defilers by Brian Lumley

Author:Brian Lumley
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: England, Vampires, Horror, Fiction - Horror, English Horror Fiction, Fiction, Horror & ghost stories, Horror - General, Horror fiction, Horror tales
ISBN: 9780312872618
Publisher: MacMillan
Published: 2000-05-02T04:00:00+00:00

23 I

U t I- I L t K b

to enjoy it. The sun, the sand, and the sea. Perfect, yes." And she went inside to unpack.

But as Trask walked Goodly and Lardis to another door, well out of Liz's hearing, the precog glanced at him and said, "What was that she said? The three esses, sun, sand, and sea? But she missed out the most important S of all."

"And what would that be?" Trask asked him.

"The screaming," said Goodly, with a curt nod. "For I think there'll be quite a bit of that, too."

"You've seen it?" Trask gripped his elbow.

"Something of it," the precog answered. "In my dreams, last night at the hotel where we stayed in Keramoti. Of course, it's possible they were just dreams—which would be natural enough in the circumstances—but I've kept them to myself because of Liz."

"First get yourselves sorted out inside," said Trask. "Then we'll talk about it. Let's meet in say, fifteen minutes? In The Shipwreck there."

"Fine," said Goodly. And he and Lardis entered their chalet with their luggage.

Then it was Manolis Papastamos's turn. He and his men had a slightly larger chalet, accommodation for all three, into which they tossed their bags with scarcely a glance inside. And again Trask said, "Fifteen minutes to unpack your stuff and settle in, and then a get-together and briefing in The Shipwreck."

But his tone of voice had echoed his displeasure, and as he went to turn away, Manolis took his arm. "My friend," the Greek policeman began, then checked himself and added: "I take it you are still my friend?"

Trask looked at him, his moustache and stubble, the genuine anxiety in his eyes, and couldn't help but grin, however wryly. "Always," he said. And then he replaced his smile with a frown. "But still you're a stubborn, pigheaded man. I wanted to keep you out of this—for your own good."

"But why?" Manolis threw up his good right hand in protest. "Because this . . . this vrykoulakas bitch knows me? I've thought about that, too. Just exactly how does this creature know me? I mean, where could she have seen me? Has she actually seen me—or is her dirty work performed by her minions?"

"Minions?" Trask stared at him.

"But don't you remember?" (It was Manolis's turn to frown.) "On Rodhos, Halki, Karpathos—that Janos Ferenczy business? He had his thralls, his watchers and spies,- he even recruited some of your people—thee poor Ken Layard and Trevor Jordan! So why not this Vavara? Ben, if I have to I'll leave both of thee big fishes to you and your people, but whoever it was pushed me off that cliff and killed Eleni Babouris: they're mine! Now believe me, my men and 1, we'll do whatever you say. And you'll be glad of our help."

"Actually," Trask answered, "I can probably use you. You're not nearly as badly banged about as I thought you were—or if you are, you're good at hiding it. That Fu Manchu moustache and the facial growth

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