It was pitch dark under the rubble.
It had been pitch dark for a long time.
Gaspode could feel the tons of stone above this little space. You didn't need any special doggy senses for that.
He dragged himself over to where a pillar had smashed down into the cellar.
Laddie raised his head with difficulty, licked Gaspode's face, and managed the faintest of barks.
'Good boy Laddie . . . Good boy Gaspode . . . '
'Good boy Laddie,' Gaspode whispered.
Laddie's tail thumped once or twice on the stones. Then he whimpered for a while, with longer and longer pauses between the sounds.
Then there was a faint noise. Just like bone on stone.
Gaspode's ears twitched. He looked up at the advancing figure, visible even in utter darkness because it Would forever be darker than mere blackness alone could manage.
He pulled himself upright, the hairs rising along his back, and growled.
'Another step and I'll have your leg off and bury it,' he said.
A skeletal hand reached out and tickled him behind the ears.
There was a faint barking from the darkness.
'Good boy Laddie!'
Gaspode, tears pouring down his face, gave Death an apologetic grin.
'Pathetic, isn't it?' he said hoarsely.
I WOULDN'T KNOW. I'VE NEVER BEEN THAT MUCH OF A DOG PERSON, said Death.
'Oh? Come to that, I've never liked the idea of dyin',' said Gaspode. 'We are dyin', ain't we?'
YES.
'Not surprised, really. Story of my life, dyin',' said Gaspode. 'It's just that I fought', he added, hopefully, 'that there was a special Death for dogs. A big black dog, maybe' .
No, said Death.
'Funny that,' said Gaspode. 'I heard where every type of animal had its own ghastly dark spectre what come for it at the end. No offence meant,' he added quickly. 'I fought there was this big dog that trots up to you an' says, 'OK, Gaspode, your work is done and so forth, lay down your
weary burden, style offing, and follow me to a land flowin' with steak and offal.' '
NO. THERE'S JUST ME, said Death. THE FINAL FRONTIER.
'How come I'm seein' you, if I ain't dead yet?'
YOU'RE HALLUCINATING.
Gaspode looked alert. 'Am I? Cor.'
'Good boy Laddie!' The barking was louder this time.
Death reached into the mysterious recesses of his robe and produced a small hourglass.
Вы читаете Moving pictures
