by Guy N Smith
'Is ... is ...' her lips moved as she struggled to sit up. He moved his body so that she could not see what lay behind him on the narrow track.
'Yes,' he murmured, kissing her. 'It's all over. Finished.' She was silent 'Uncle's dead.'
'Yes,' he replied. 'But he brought it about by his own hand. Do you feel well enough to walk back to the village?' She nodded.
As she stood up her feet caught against something in the long spartina grass. It was a small glass bottle. Gavin bent down, grasped it and held it up to the eastern sky which was now yielding to the coming dawn.
'My God!' he gasped. 'So that's what the Professor was doing. Taking a sample of the slime.'
They gazed at the thick liquid within the container.
'Are you going to take it back for analysis?' Liz asked. 'I mean, that's the only thing that's left of the Slime Beast isn't it?'
Gavin shook his head. Then he uncorked the bottle, holding it at arms length in order to avoid the obnoxious odour. Slowly he turned the bottle upside down and they both watched the fluid ooze out and drip into the reeds. Then it was all gone, the last of it glistening on the tops of the rushes before evaporating into nothingness.
Gavin glanced at the empty bottle in his hand and hurled it as far out into the dense reed-bed as he could. They heard the resulting 'plop' and their eyes met.
Gavin slipped his arm around Liz's waist to support her and slowly they set off in the direction of the sea-wall.
'Well,' he sighed deeply. 'That's the end of the Slime Beast and I can't say I'm sorry.'
'Me neither.' She squeezed his hand tightly.
'Amazing. Too amazing for words.'
Chief-Inspector Harborne looked across his desk at Gavin and Liz and shook his head for the umpteenth time, 'Your story tallies with everything that has happened in this macabre business! Mr Royle, scientists will argue over it for a decade. A multitude of theories will be expounded concerning the origin of this creature called the Slime Beast. Whether it came from another world or originated in the mud of the Wash will never be known. The business of the shooting star and those charred fragments of an unidentifiable metal would seem to suggest the former.'
'Are we free to return to London now, Inspector?' There was an eagerness in Liz's voice.
'Most certainly you are,' Harborne smiled. 'Now that the inquest on your uncle's death, and those other unfortunate people who were killed when the beast went on the rampage, is over, there is nothing further to detain you here. As they walked out into the street where the Land Rover was parked at the kerbside, stacked with all the equipment which they had brought with them, Liz heaved an audible sigh of relief.
'Oh to be in London,' she murmured. 'We won't ever have to come back here will we Gavin?'
'Unless you fancy the Wash for a honeymoon!' he joked and she punched him playfully. 'I don't ever want to set foot on the beastly place again,' she said. 'Not even to look for old King John's treasure. It can stay where it is forever as far as Fm concerned.'
'It probably will.' he replied. 'They say it brings ill-fortune to those who seek it. It certainly has this time. Too many people have died as an indirect cause of our excavations.'
'D'you think the world's seen the last of the Slime Beast?' she asked. 'I mean, wherever it came from, d'you think they're likely to send any more?'
'If they do,' and his face held a serious expression, 'then I pray to God we're not around. I only hope, if a race of them exists on some planet somewhere, that they've decided that Earth isn't the place for them after all!' He opened the passenger door for her to climb in. Suddenly a wild clamouring sound filled the air, a sound of musical honking, gaggling.
Sedately, in a perfect 'V formation, the skein of wild geese passed over the village and began to lose height as they approached the mud-flats. This was their domain. The marshes of the Wash.
FB2 document info
Document ID: 96481f1c-8440-4936-adc7-baac48807c64
Document version: 1
Document creation date: 2003-01-19
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Сергей Соколов (Renar)
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