День триффидов
Frustration
‘Youmustn’tsaythesethingstome.Pleasegoawaynow."
Butshedidnotgo.Shestoodstaringatmefromeyesthatcouldnotseeme.
"Goaway!"Irepeated.
Icouldnotstandthereproachofher.Shewasnotsimplyherself—shewasthousandsuponthousandsofyounglivesdestroyed...
Shecamecloser.
"Why,Ibelieveyou’recrying!"shesaid.
"Goaway.ForGod’ssake,goaway!"Itoldher.
Shehesitated,thensheturnedandfeltherwaybacktothedoor.Asshewentout:
"YoucantellthemI’llbestaying,"Isaid.
ThefirstthingIwasawareofthenextmorningwasthesmell.Therehadbeenwhiffsofithereandtherebefore,butluckilytheweatherhadbeencool.NowIfoundthatIhadsleptlateintowhatwasalreadyawarmerday.I’mnotgoingintodetailsaboutthatsmell;thosewhoknewitwillneverforgetit;fortherestitisindescribable.Itrosefromeverycityandtownforweeks,andtraveledoneverywindthatblew.WhenIwoketoitthatmorningitconvincedmebeyonddoubtthattheendhadcome.Deathisjusttheshockingendofanimation;itisdissolutionthatisfinal.
Ilayforsomeminutesthinking.Theonlythingtodonowwouldbetoloadmypartyintotrucksandtaketheminrelaysintothecountry.Andallthesupplieswehadcollected?Theywouldhavetobeloadedandtakentoo—andItheonlyoneabletodrive...Itwouldtakedays—ifwehaddays.
Uponthat,Iwonderedwhatwashappeninginthebuildingnow.Theplacewasoddlyquiet.
