The Eyre Affair_ A Novel - Jasper Fforde [567]
“Did you find what you needed?”
He passed me the first book, which I opened at random. It was, I discovered, a Goliath BioTech manual for building a neanderthal. The page I had selected gave a detailed description of the neanderthal hand.
“A complete manual,” he said slowly. “With it we can make children.”
I handed back the volume, and he placed it with the others in the boot of the car just as there was another unearthly wail in the distance.
“A deadly groan,” muttered Shgakespeafe, sitting lower in his seat, “like life and death’s departing!”
“We had better get going,” I said. “There is something out there, and I’ve a feeling we should leave before it gets too inquisitive.”
“Chimera?” asked Bowden. “To be honest, we’ve seen the grand total of none from the moment we came in here.”
“We do not see them because they do not wish to be seen,” observed Stig. “There is chimera here. Dangerous chimera.”
“Thanks, Stig,” said Millon, dabbing his brow with a handkerchief, “that’s a real help.”
“It is the truth, Mr. de Floss.”
“Well, keep the truth to yourself in future.”
I shut the rear door as soon as Stig had wedged himself in next to Shgakespeafe, and then I climbed into the front passenger seat. Bowden drove off as rapidly as the car would allow.
“Millon, is there any other route out that doesn’t take us through that heavily wooded area where we found the other cars?”
He consulted the map for a moment. “No. Why?”
“Because it looked like a good place for an ambush.”
“This really gets better and better, doesn’t it?”
“On the contrary,” replied Stig, who took all speech on face value, “this is not good at all. We find the prospect of being eaten by chimeras extremely awkward.”
“Awkward?” echoed Millon. “Being eaten is awkward?”
“Indeed,” said Stig, “the neanderthal instruction manuals are far more important than we.”
“That’s your opinion,” retorted Millon. “Right now there is nothing more important than me.”
“How very human,” replied Stig simply.
We sped up the road, drove back through the rock cutting and headed towards the wood.
“By the pricking of my thumbs,” remarked Shgakespeafe in an ominous tone of voice, “something wicked this way comes!”
“There!” yelled Millon, pointing a quivering finger out the window. I caught a glimpse of a large beast before it vanished behind a fallen oak, then another jumping from one tree to another. They didn’t hide themselves anymore. We could all see them as we drove down the wooded road, past the abandoned cars. Lolloping beasts of a ragged shape flitted through the woods, experimental creations of an industry before regulation. We heard a thump as one leapt out of the woods, sprung upon the steel roof of the car and then disappeared with a whoop into the forest. I looked out of the rear window and saw something unspeakably nasty scrabble across the road behind us. I drew my automatic, and Stig wound down the window to have his tranquilizer gun at the ready. We rounded the next corner, and Bowden stomped on the brakes. A row of chimeras had placed themselves across the road. Bowden threw the car into reverse, but a tree came crashing down behind us, cutting off our escape. We had driven into the trap, the trap was sprung—and all that remained was for the trappers to do with the trapped whatever they wished.
“How many?” I asked.
“Ten up front,” said Bowden.
“Two dozen behind,” answered Stig.
“Lots either side!” quivered Millon, who was more used to making up facts to fit his bizarre conspiracy theories than actually witnessing any firsthand.
“What a sign it is of evil life,” murmured Shgakespeafe. “Where death’s approach is seen so terrible!”
“Okay,” I muttered, “everyone stay calm, and when I say, open fire.”
“We will not survive,” said Stig in a matter-of-fact tone. “Too many of them, not enough of