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r r
All three of them were laughing as Adam repeated the signal and was answered
again. The broad-shouldered figure in fireman's gear who came splashing toward
them, his torch aimed at the driver's window, was not laughing.
"Just what d'ye think ye're doin', mister?" he sputtered, leaning down angrily to
peer into McLeod's window. "I dinnae like yer humor! Another few inches tae th'
right, an' ye would've had me for a hood ornament!"
Still chuckling, McLeod rolled down his window and showed the man his ID.
"Sorry. We aren't laughing at you. It's sheer, quaking relief at having made it off
that bloody ferry! Didn't mean to give you such a scare. We've got a rather urgent
police matter on our hands."
"Weel, then, that's different," the man said, his anger deflating into grudging
respect. "An" I haftae say, I havenae seen driving like that 'cept in the films. I
didnae even think the boat was running."
"It wasn't," McLeod said, "but we persuaded the captain it was his civic duty to
get us across. What's the road condition between here and Fort Augustus?"
The man snorted, garrulous good nature returning, in the face of their common
dilemma.
"Now, that I couldnae tell ye. We've enough tae worry about, right here. This
storm is really queer-like. I've never seen anything like it. Nae wamin' frae the
weather service - an' it's rippin' roofs off buildings, an' knockin' doon power lines
- We lost the phones hours ago."
Behind him, the disarray gave mute testimony to his words. Off to their left, the
wind had lifted the roof off a small concession kiosk, hurling one twisted roof
panel through the front window of a nearby shop. Broken glass and sodden
newspapers littered the surrounding pavement, and men were trying to board up
the windows of a nearby cottage whose windows also had fallen victim to the
storm. The pungent smell of gas proclaimed a ruptured main somewhere. Rescue
workers in fluorescent armbands were laboring to clear away the debris that lay
between them and the source of the problem.
McLeod nodded sympathetically. "I don't envy you your job. Have you got a
radio?"
The fireman paused to wipe the rain off his face before answering.
"Aye, but I cannae promise that ye'11 get through. There's weird electrical stuff
goin' on, with the thunder an' lightning an' all. But ye're welcome tae try."
"I'd appreciate that," said McLeod. "If we can raise Fort Augustus, maybe
somebody there can put me in touch with the police."
"We'll do our best," said the fireman. "Best move yer car first, though. There's a
petrol station over there." He pointed off behind him. "It's closed, but ye can pull
up under the overhang tae give yerselves a bit of shelter. I'll meet ye over by the
truck& ."
While McLeod was away, Peregrine remembered the hamper they had been given
by Margaret MacLeod, and dragged it up onto the backseat beside him.
"How about a sandwich, while we're waiting, Adam?" he asked, starting to
rummage in it. "We may not get a chance to eat, later on."
Adam, studying their map with the aid of a small penlight, merely shook his head.
"Nothing for me, thanks. This kind of work is best undertaken on an empty
stomach."
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r r
"It is?" Peregrine put down the sandwich he had been about to unwrap and
looked at Adam quizzically. "Why is that?"
Adam turned his head partway toward Peregrine and smiled. "Do you want a
medical explanation or an esoteric one?"
"Oh. You mean, there's more than one?" Peregrine asked.
Adam chuckled good-naturedly and half-turned in his seat to rest his arm along
the back.
"The reasons are akin, actually. Physiologically speaking, the digestive process
draws blood away from the brain - which means that mental functions are going
to be less than optimum after eating. That's why one often feels like taking a nap
after a good meal."
Peregrine nodded. "That makes sense. And the esoteric explanation?"
"Taking in food is a grounding process - which is why it's recommended that one
have something to eat and drink after meditation or any other psychic procedure.
Remember how I fed you, that first night you showed up on my doorstep?"
"Yes."
"But if one is about to work on the higher planes, it follows that one would not
want to be grounded," Adam went on. "One wants the brain to function at peak
efficiency. So one fasts - or at least goes light on food. We could have something
to drink, if it's nonalcoholic."
Peregrine produced a thermos flask from the hamper and opened it, sniffing at
the mouth.
"Tea," he announced, as the aroma filled the car and confirmed his opinion. "Is
that all right?" "That's fine," Adam replied. They sipped at steaming cups of it
while they waited for McLeod to return. It was sweet and strong, and warmed
cold fingers as well as insides, as they cupped their hands around it. After a few
minutes, Adam set his on the dash and twisted around to glance at Peregrine.
"Hand me that phone out of Noel's bag, would you? I doubt I'll be able to get
through, but we just might be able to enlist some additional backup for what's
waiting at Urquhart."
Wide-eyed, Peregrine passed the phone forward, watching as Adam lowered his
window slightly, extended the phone's antenna through the opening, and [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]