День триффидов
The End begins
ItwasasthoughI’dputonarecordofcrowdnoises-andanill-disposedcrowd,atthat.Ihadanightmarishflash,wonderingwhetherIhadbeentransferredtoamentalhomewhileIwassleepingandthatthiswasnotSt.Merryn’sHospitalatall.Thesoundofthosevoicessimplydidn’tsoundnormaltome.Iclosedthedoorhurriedlyonthebabelandgropedmywaybacktobed.Atthatmomentbedseemedtobetheonesafe,comfortingthinginmywholebafflingenvironment.Asiftounderlinethat,therecameasoundwhichcheckedmeintheactofpullingupthesheets.Fromthestreetbelowroseascream,wildlydistraughtandcontagiouslyterrifying.Itcamethreetimes,andwhenithaddiedawayitseemedstilltotingleintheair.
Ishuddered.Icouldfeelthesweatpricklemyforeheadunderthebandages.Iknewnowthatsomethingfearfulandhorriblewashappening.Icouldnotstandmyisolationandhelplessnessanylonger.Ihadtoknowwhatwasgoingonaroundme.Myhandswentuptomybandages;then,withmyfingersonthesafetypins,Istopped.
Supposethetreatmenthadnotbeensuccessful?SupposethatwhenItookthebandagesoffIweretofindthatIstillcouldnotsee?Thatwouldbeworsestill-ahundredtimesworse....Ilackedthecouragetobealoneandfindoutthattheyhadnotsavedmysight.Andeveniftheyhad,woulditbesafeyettokeepmyeyesuncovered?
Idroppedmyhandsandlayback.Iwasmadatmyselfandtheplace,andIdidsomesilly,weakcursing.
SomelittlewhilemusthavepassedbeforeIgotaproperholdonthingsagain,butafterabitIfoundmyselfchurningroundinmymindoncemoreafterapossibleexplanation.
