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- Джон Уиндем
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- День триффидов
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- Стр. 41/223
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The
cause
of
it
was
a
few
yards
down
the
alley
.
A
girl
was
crouched
on
the
ground
while
a
burly
man
laid
into
her
with
a
thin
brass
rod
.
The
back
of
her
dress
was
torn
,
and
the
flesh
beneath
showed
red
weals
.
As
I
came
closer
I
saw
why
she
did
not
run
away
—
her
hands
were
tied
together
behind
her
back
,
and
a
cord
tethered
them
to
the
man
’
s
left
wrist
.
I
reached
the
pair
as
his
arm
was
raised
for
another
stroke
.
It
was
easy
to
snatch
the
rod
from
his
unexpecting
hand
and
bring
it
down
with
some
force
upon
his
shoulder
.
He
promptly
lashed
a
heavy
boot
out
in
my
direction
,
but
I
had
dodged
back
quickly
,
and
his
radius
of
action
was
limited
by
the
cord
on
his
wrist
.
He
made
another
swiping
kick
at
the
air
while
I
was
feeling
in
my
pocket
for
a
knife
.
Finding
nothing
there
,
he
turned
and
kicked
the
girl
for
good
measure
,
instead
.
Then
he
swore
at
her
and
pulled
on
the
cord
to
bring
her
to
her
feet
.
I
slapped
him
on
the
side
of
his
head
,
just
hard
enough
to
stop
him
and
make
his
head
sing
for
a
bit
—
somehow
I
could
not
bring
myself
to
lay
out
a
blind
man
,
even
this
type
.
While
he
was
steadying
himself
from
that
I
stooped
swiftly
and
cut
the
cord
which
joined
them
.
A
slight
shove
on
the
man
’
s
chest
sent
him
staggering
back
and
half
turned
him
so
that
he
lost
his
bearings
.
With
his
freed
left
hand
he
let
out
a
fine
raking
swing
.
It
missed
me
,
but
ultimately
reached
the
brick
wall
.
After
that
he
lost
interest
in
pretty
well
everything
but
the
pain
of
his
cracked
knuckles
.
I
helped
the
girl
up
,
loosed
her
hands
,
and
led
her
away
down
the
alley
while
he
was
still
blistering
the
air
behind
us
.
As
we
turned
into
the
street
she
began
to
come
out
of
her
daze
.
She
turned
a
smeary
,
tear
-
stained
face
and
looked
up
at
me
.
"
But
you
can
see
!
"
she
said
incredulously
.
"
Certainly
I
can
,
"
I
told
her
.
"
Oh
,
thank
God
!
Thank
God
!
I
thought
I
was
the
only
one
,
"
she
said
,
and
burst
into
tears
again
.
I
looked
around
us
.
A
few
yards
away
there
was
a
pub
with
a
phonograph
playing
,
glasses
smashing
,
and
a
high
old
time
being
had
by
all
.
A
little
beyond
it
was
a
smaller
pub
,
still
intact
.
A
good
heave
wish
my
shoulder
broke
in
the
door
to
the
saloon
bar
.
I
half
carried
the
girl
in
and
put
her
in
a
chair
.
Then
I
dismembered
another
chair
and
put
two
of
its
legs
through
the
handles
of
the
swing
doors
for
the
discouragement
of
further
visitors
before
I
turned
my
attention
to
the
restoratives
at
the
bar
.
There
was
no
hurry
.
She
sipped
at
,
and
snuffled
over
,
the
first
drink
.
I
gave
her
time
to
get
on
top
of
things
,
twiddling
the
stem
of
my
glass
and
listening
to
the
phonograph
in
the
other
pub
churning
out
the
currently
popular
,
if
rather
lugubrious
,
ditty
:
