День триффидов
— and Farther on
Onthehighergroundtherewasstilllittletaintinthefreshair,thoughmostvillagesbadbecomeunpleasant.Rarelywesawastillfigurelyinginafieldorbytheroadside,but,justasinLondon,themaininstinctseemedtohavebeentohideawayinshelterofsomekind.Mostofthevillagesshowedemptystreets,andthecountrysidearoundthemwasasdesertedasifthewholehumanraceandmostofitsanimalshadbeenspiritedaway.UntilwecametoSteepleHoney.
FromourroadwehadaviewofthewholeofSteepleHoneyaswedescendedthehill.Itclusteredatthefartherendofastonebridgewhicharchedacrossasmall,sparklingriver.Itwasaquietlittleplacecenteredroundasleepy-lookingchurch,andstippledoffatitsedgeswithwhitewashedcottages.Itdidnotlookasifanythinghadoccurredinacenturyormoretodisturbthequietlifeunderitsthatchedroofs.But,likeothervillages,itwasnowwithoutstirorsmoke.Andthen,aswewerehalfwaydownthehill,amovementcaughtmyeye.
Ontheleft,atthefarendofthebridge,onehousestoodslightlyaslantfromtheroadsothatitfacedobliquelytowardus.Aninnsignhungfromabracketonitswall,andfromthewindowimmediatelyabovethatsomethingwhitewasbeingwaved.AswecamecloserIcouldseethemanwhowasleaningoutandfranticallyflagginguswithatowel.Ijudgedthathemustbeblind,otherwisehewouldhavecomeoutintotheroadtointerceptus.Hewaswavingtoovigorouslyforasickman.
IsignaledbacktoCokerandpulledupasweclearedthebridge.
