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standing in the middle of Becky s bedroom when one of them jumped
out of the curtains and buried its head in his stomach. As the sheer pain
killed, he saw its tail wagging.
Then something hit him.
 Come on! Good Christ, kid, what the hell s got into you? Becky? Becky was
shaking him.
 Now, now calm down here, sit him down. It s a stress reaction, that s
all. Call his name, don t let him get away.
 Wilson!
 Wha 
 Call a doctor, you jerk! What the hell s the matter, he acts like he s made
of rubber!
 Stress did it, extreme stress. Keep calling him, he s coming back.
 Wilson, you motherfucker, wake up! In response he pulled her down to the
chair and clumsily embraced her, held her against him. A choked noise started
in his chest. She felt his stubbly beard rub against her cheek, felt his dry
lips come into contact with her neck, felt his body trembling, smelled his
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sour, rumpled jacket. After a moment she drew back, pushing at his shoulders,
and was immediately released.
 God, I feel awful.
Ferguson gave him some water in a little paper cup, which he spilled at once.
 Hell, I 
 Take it easy. Something happened to you.
 It was a stress reaction, Ferguson said.  It s not uncommon.
People in crashing planes, burning buildings, trapped people, experience it.
If the situation isn t terminal, the condition passes. Ferguson was trying to
smile but his face was too pale to make it seem very real.  I ve read about
it, but I ve never seen it before, he added lamely.
Wilson closed his eyes, bowed his head and put his fists to his temples. He
looked like a man shielding himself from an explosion.
 Goddamn, I wish to hell we were out of this! He had shouted it so loud that
the faint hubbub beyond the tiny office came to a halt.
 Please, Ferguson said,  you could cause me problems.
 Sorry, Doctor, excuse me.
 Well, you have to admit 
 Yeah, yeah, save it. Becky, I m sorry.
 Yeah. I m sorry too. His eyes pleaded up at her, and she met them with what
she hoped was a look of reassurance.
 Don t think about death. You thought about death. Think about our camera.
Tonight we ll get our pictures and then things ll start to move. All
the evidence, plus the pictures nobody will be able to deny it.
 And we ll get some protection?
 Damn right. Whatever the hell happens, it ll be something. Better
than this, God knows.
For the first time Becky allowed herself to imagine it What form
would protection take? A cold stab of realization went through her about the
only thing that would help would be virtual imprisonment. At first it would
mean a good night s sleep, but then it would get stifling, finally
unendurable, and she would give it up and every moment outside would
hold danger, every shadow the potential to kill. It was hard to turn her
mind away from this train of thought. And now death flashed into
her own imagination how does it feel to be ripped to pieces: will there be
desperate agony or will some mechanism of the brain provide relief?
She couldn t think about that either. Think about the next moment, not the
future.
Think about the camera. Men in battle must do it that way, keeping their minds
fixed on the next shell hole, shutting out the deadly whisper of bullets, the
groans of the unlucky, until they themselves&
She turned her mind from it again and said in a tired voice,  Dick probably
has the camera by now. It s nearly three. What say we get over there and plan
the stakeout? It s gonna be a long night.
Ferguson smiled a little.  Frankly, I think it ll be exciting. Obviously
there s danger.
But my God, look at the magnitude of the discovery! All of history
mankind has been living in a dream, and suddenly we re about to
discover reality. It s an extraordinary moment.
Both the detectives stared at him in amazement. Their lives and
habits of thought emphasized the danger of the quest, not its beauty.
Ferguson s words made them realize that there was beauty there too. The
presence of the werewolf, once proven, would completely change the life
of man. Of course there would be panic and terror but there would also be the
new challenge. Man the hunted and his hunter, so skilled, so perfectly
equipped that he seemed almost supernatural. Man had always
confronted nature by beating it down. This was going to require something
new the werewolf would have to be accepted. He wasn t likely to submit to a
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beating.
Becky felt her inner resolve strengthening. She knew the feeling. It often
came when they were confronting a particularly rough case, the kind of case
where you really wanted to find the killer. The ones where a drug
pusher was knocked off or some other scum those you didn t really care
about. But when it was an innocent, a child, an old person you got
this feeling, like you were going to make that collar. Vengeance, that s what
it was. And Ferguson s words had that effect. It damn well was an
extraordinary moment. Mankind was already in this situation and didn t know
it, and had a right to know. There might not be much that could be done
about it, not at first, but the victims at least had the right to see the face
of their attacker.  Let s call Dick, make sure he s ready. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]