Ужас Данвича
Chapter 9
Thedownpourwaxedinheaviness,anddistantpealsofthundersoundedfromfarhorizons. Sheetlightningshimmered,andthenaforkyboltflashednearathand,asifdescendingintotheaccursedglenitself. Theskygrewverydark,andthewatchershopedthatthestormwouldproveashort,sharponefollowedbyclearweather.
Itwasstillgruesomelydarkwhen,notmuchoveranhourlater,aconfusedbabelofvoicessoundeddowntheroad. Anothermomentbroughttoviewafrightenedgroupofmorethanadozenmen,running,shouting,andevenwhimperinghysterically. Someoneintheleadbegansobbingoutwords,andtheArkhammenstartedviolentlywhenthosewordsdevelopedacoherentform.
‘Oh,myGawd,myGawd,’thevoicechokedout. ‘It’sa-goin’agin,an’thistimebyday! It’saout—it’saoutan’a-movin’thisveryminute,an’onlytheLordknowswhenit’llbeonusall!’
Thespeakerpantedintosilence,butanothertookuphismessage.
‘NighonahaouragoZebWhateleyhereheeredthe‘phonea-ringin’,an’itwasMis’Corey,George’swife,thatlivesdaownbythejunction. ShesaysthehiredboyLutherwasaoutdrivin’inthecaowsfromthestormarterthebigbolt,whenheseeallthetreesa-bendin’atthemaoutho’theglen—oppositesideterthis—an’smeltthesameawfulsmelllikehesmeltwhenhefaoundthebigtrackslas’Mondaymornin’.
