День триффидов
Frustration
Theybacked,turned,andrumbledoffbythewaywehadcome.Theconvergingpeoplestopped.Oneortwoofthemshoutedafterthetrucks;mostturnedhopelesslyandsilentlybacktotheirwandering.Therewasonewomanaboutfiftyyardsaway;shebrokeintohystericsandbegantobangherheadagainstawall.Ifeltsick.
Iturnedtowardmycompanions.
"Well,whatdoyouwantfirst?"Iaskedthem.
"Abillet,"saidone."Wegotto‘aveaplacetodossdown."IIreckonedI’dhavetofindthatatleastforthem.Icouldn’tjustdodgeoutandleavethemstrandedrightwherewewere.Nowwe’dcomethisfar,Icouldn’tdolessthanfindthemacenter,akindofH.Q.,andputthemontheirfeet.Whatwaswantedwasaplacewherethereceiving,storing,andfeedingcouldbedone,andthewholelotkeeptogether.Icountedthem.Therewerefifty-two;fourteenofthemwomen.Thebestcourseseemedtobetofindahotel.Itwouldsavethetroubleoffittingoutwithbedsandbedding.
TheplacewefoundwasakindofglorifiedboardinghousemadeupoffourVictorianterracehousesknockedtogether,givingmorethantheaccommodationweneeded.Therewerealreadyhalfadozenpeopleintheplacewhenwegotthere.Heavenknowswhathadhappenedtotherest.Wefoundtheremnant,huddledtogetherandscared,inoneofthelounges—anoldman,andelderlywoman(whoturnedouttohavebeenthemanageress),amiddle-agedman,andthreegirls.
