Мгла
The Storage Area. Problems with the Generators. What Happened to the Bag-Boy.
"Allright,"hesaid."Yes,Ijustkeepaskingmyself...allthosetentacles...likeasquidorsomething...David,whatweretheyhookedto?Whatwerethosetentacleshookedto?"
"Idon’tknow.ButIdon’twantthosetwotellingpeopleontheirown,Thatwouldstartapanic.Let’sgo."
Ilookedaround,andafteramomentortwolocatedthethinlineofverticallightbetweentheswingdoors.Westartedtoshuffletowardit,waryofscatteredcartons,oneofOllie’spudgyhandsclampedovermyforearm.Itoccurredtomethatallofushadlostourflashlights.
Aswereachedthedoors,Olliesaidflatly:"Whatwesawit’simpossible,David.Youknowthat,don’tyou?EvenifavanfromtheBostonSeaquariumdroveoutbackanddumpedoutoneofthosegiganticsquidslikeinTwentyThousandLeaguesUndertheSea,itwoulddie.Itwouldjustdie."
"Yes,"Isaid."That’sright."
"Sowhathappened?Huh?Whathappened?Whatisthatdamnedmist?"
"Ollie,Idon’tknow."
Wewentout.
