The Wind From Nowhere by J. G. Ballard

Author:J. G. Ballard [Ballard, J. G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction in English, Science fiction, General, Fiction
ISBN: 9780140025910
Publisher: Penguin Books
Published: 1976-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

Page 44

"The monks must have stored everything away here before they left," Lanyon muttered. They moved forward down one of the aisles. He brushed against a square waist-high object that gonged metallically, then shone the torch on a large white washing machine.

He tapped it to attract Patricia's attention. "Up to date, aren't they?" Moving the torch, he then saw that there were half a dozen other machines next to it, all of them taped with the manufacturer's protective wrappers.

Pausing, he started to examine the stacks of cases more carefully.

"These haven't even been used," Patricia commented.

Lanyon nodded. "I know. Something curious about all this. Look at those." He swung the flashlight against the wall, where the blank eyes of 20 or 30 TV receivers stared back at them, like a display in a darkened shop window. Next to the TV sets were two big red-and-yellow plastic-fronted jukeboxes, and beyond these a pile of radios, vacuum cleaners and electric stoves, heaped with smaller cartons containing irons, hair driers and other domestic appliances.

Flashing the torch, Lanyon walked slowly down the aisle. On the left, down the center of the storeroom, was a solid wall of what appeared to be machine tools--lathes, circular saws, jig-cutting equipment--the steel bearings and drives pasted over with brown tape.

"One of the stores must be using this place as its warehouse," Patricia remarked. "Strange selection of items, though."

Lanyon nodded. "How did they get all this stuff up here?" They bad reached the far end of the room, and he turned the handle of the double oak doors. "Looks to me--"

As he opened the door, lights moved at the far end of the corridor beyond, and he had a brief impression of four or five men shifting some bulky object on a small trolley. He pushed the door to and snapped off the torch, just as a shout of recognition went up.

"Steve, they've seen us!" Lanyon held Patricia's arm.

"Listen, Pat, I'm not sure who these people are. They look like looters to me. We'd better get out of here."

He switched on the torch again and they ran quickly down the aisle past the stacks of radios and washing machines. As they reached the doorway Lanyon saw a large black-garbed figure moving silently below the vaulted arches of the adjacent storeroom. The man noticed the beam of Lanyon's torch and immediately slid back into the darkness behind one of the pillars.

Lanyon pulled Patricia back into an alcove between the door and the stack of TV sets. He slipped his .45 automatic out of its holster, eased up the safety catch.

"Wait here, Pat," he whispered. "Try not to move. Someone came in after us through the grain store. I'll see if I can get behind him." He felt her hand hold his tightly, her face tense.

He dived through the doorway and crouched down behind one of the pillars, just as the doors on the far side of the storeroom swung back and torches flared across the piles of merchandise.

Lanyon began to edge forward to a central pillar that fanned out in the middle of the chamber.

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