Sacrament by Clive Barker Read Free Book Online

where
the bear could claim him?
    Will had no choice: if he was going to get out of the bear's way he was going to have to lug Guthrie with him.
He started to haul himself to his feet, lifting the old man's sizeable frame with him. The motion brought a howl
of anguish from Guthrie, and his grip on Will's shoulder slipped a little. Will stepped sideways in the direction
of the shack, half-carrying Guthrie with him like a partner in some morbid dance. The bear had halted, and was
watching this grotesquerie with black-sequin eyes. Will took a second step, and Guthrie let out another cry,
much weaker than the first, and all at once gave up his hold on Will, who didn't have the power left in his arms
to support him. Guthrie slipped to the ground as though every bone in his body had gone to water, and in that
instant the bear made her move. Will didn't have time to dodge, much less run. The animal was on him in a
bound, striking him like a speeding car, his bones breaking on impact, the world becoming a smear of pain and
snow, both blazing white.
    Then his head struck the icy ground. Consciousness fled for a few seconds. When it returned he raised his hand;
saw the snow beneath him red. Where was the bear? He swivelled his gaze left and right looking for her. There
was no sign. One of his arms was tucked beneath him, and useless, but there was enough strength in the other to
raise him up. The motion made him sick with pain, and he was fearful he was going to lose consciousness
again, but by degrees he bullied and coaxed his body up into a kneeling position.
    Off to his left, a sniffing sound. He looked in its direction, his gaze flickering. The bear had her nose in
Guthrie's corpse, inhaling its perfumes. She raised her vast head, her snout bloody.
    This is death, Will thought. For all of us, this is death. This is what you've photographed so many times. The
dolphin drowning in the net, pitifully quiescent; the monkey twitching amongst its dead fellows, looking at him
with a gaze he could not stand to meet, except through his camera. They were all the same in this moment, he
and the monkey; he and the bear. All ephemeral things, running out of time.
    And then the bear was on him again, her claws opening his shoulder and back, her jaws coming for his neck.
Somewhere far off, in a place he no longer belonged, he heard a woman calling his name, and his lazy brain
thought: Adrianna's here; sweet Adrianna
    He heard a shot, then another. Felt the weight of the bear against him, carrying him down to the ground, her
blood raining on his face.
    Was he saved? he vaguely wondered. But even as he was shaping the thought another part of him, that had
neither eyes to see nor ears to hear, nor cared to have either, was slipping away from this place; and senses he
had never known he owned were piercing the blizzard clouds and studying the stars. It seemed to him he could
feel their warmth; that the distance between their blazing hearts and his spirit was just a thought, and he could
be there, in them, knowing them, if he turned his mind to it.
    Something checked his ascent, however. A voice in his head that he knew was familiar to him, yet he could not
put a name to.
    'Where d'you think you're going?' the voice said. There was a sly humour in it. He tried to put a face to the
sound, but he saw only fragments. Silky red hair; a sharp nose, a comical moustache. 'You can't go yet,' the
interloper said.
    But I want to, he said. It hurts so much, staying here. Not the dying part, the living.
    His companion heard his complaints, and would have no truck with them. 'Hush yourself,' he said. 'You think
you're the first man on the planet lost his faith? That's all part of it. We're going to have to have a serious
conversation, you and me. Face to face. Man to-'
    Man to what?
    'We'll get to that,' the voice replied. It was starting to fade.
    Where are you going? Will wanted to know.
    'Nowhere you can't find me when the time