День триффидов

           Theleadercheckedsuddenly,undecided.Behindhimtherewasanoutbreakofcursesandascreamortwo.Thecrowdswayedbackandforthasthoughuncertainwhethertorunortochargethegates.Thedecisionwasmadeforthembythoseinthecourtyard.Isawayoungish-lookingmantucksomethingunderhisarm,andIdroppeddown,pullingJosellawithme,astheclatterofasubmachinegunbegan.

           Itwasobviousthattheshootingwasdeliberatelyhigh;nevertheless,therattleofit,andthewhizzofglancingbullets,wasalarming.Oneshortburstwasenoughtosettlethematter.Whenweraisedourheadsthecrowdhadlostentityanditscomponentsweregropingtheirwaystosaferpartsinallthreepossibledirections.Theleaderpausedonlytoshoutsomethingunintelligible,thenheturnedawaytoo.HemadehiswaynorthwardupMaletStreet,doinghisbesttorallyhisfollowingbehindhim.

           IsatwherewewereandlookedatJosella.Shelookedthoughtfullybackatmeandthendownatthegroundbeforeher.Itwassomeminutesbeforeeitherofusspoke.

           "Well?"Iaskedatlast.

           Sheraisedherheadtolookacrosstheroad,andthenatthelaststragglersfromthecrowdpatheticallyfumblingtheirways.

           Hewasright,"shesaid."Youknowhewasright,don’tyou?"Inodded.

           Yes,hewasright.Andyethewasquitewrongtoo.Yousee,thereisno‘they’tocometoclearupthismess—I’mquitesureofthatnow.Itwon’tbeclearedup.Wecoulddoashesays.Wecouldshowsome,thoughonlysome,ofthesepeoplewherethereisfood.