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- Джон Уиндем
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In
the
back
room
I
looked
round
,
panting
.
There
were
seven
of
us
there
.
"
Hold
it
,
"
I
said
again
.
"
We
’
re
all
right
in
here
.
"
I
went
to
the
door
again
.
The
back
part
of
the
shop
was
out
of
the
triffids
’
range
—
so
long
as
they
stayed
outside
.
I
was
able
to
reach
the
trap
door
in
safety
and
raise
it
.
The
two
men
who
had
fallen
down
there
since
I
left
re
-
emerged
.
One
nursed
a
broken
arm
;
the
other
was
merely
bruised
,
and
cursing
.
Behind
the
back
room
lay
a
small
yard
,
and
across
that
a
door
in
an
eight
-
foot
brick
wall
.
I
had
grown
cautious
.
Instead
of
going
straight
to
the
door
,
I
climbed
on
the
roof
of
an
outhouse
to
prospect
.
The
door
,
I
could
see
,
gave
into
a
narrow
alley
running
the
full
length
of
the
block
.
It
was
empty
.
But
beyond
the
wall
,
on
the
far
side
of
it
,
which
seemed
to
terminate
the
gardens
of
a
row
of
private
houses
,
I
could
make
out
the
tops
of
two
triffids
motionless
among
the
bushes
.
There
might
well
be
more
.
The
wall
on
that
side
was
lower
,
and
their
height
would
enable
them
to
strike
right
across
the
alley
with
their
stings
.
I
explained
to
the
others
.
"
Bloody
unnatural
brutes
,
"
said
one
.
"
I
always
did
hate
them
bastards
.
"
I
investigated
further
.
The
building
next
but
one
to
the
north
side
turned
out
to
be
a
car
-
hire
service
with
three
of
its
cars
on
the
premises
.
It
was
an
awkward
job
getting
the
party
over
the
two
intervening
walls
,
particularly
the
man
with
the
broken
arm
,
but
we
managed
it
.
Somehow
,
too
,
I
got
them
all
packed
into
a
large
Daimler
.
When
we
were
all
set
I
opened
the
outer
doors
of
the
place
and
ran
back
to
the
car
.
The
triffids
weren
’
t
slow
to
be
interested
.
That
uncanny
sensitiveness
to
sounds
told
them
something
was
happening
.
As
we
drove
out
,
a
couple
of
them
were
already
lurching
toward
the
entrance
.
Their
stings
whipped
out
at
us
and
slapped
harmlessly
against
the
closed
windows
.
I
swung
bard
round
,
bumping
one
and
toppling
it
over
.
Then
we
were
away
up
the
road
,
making
for
a
healthier
neighborhood
.
The
evening
that
followed
was
the
worst
I
had
spent
since
the
calamity
occurred
.
Freed
of
the
two
watchdogs
,
I
took
over
a
small
room
where
I
could
be
alone
.
I
put
six
lighted
candles
in
a
row
on
the
mantleshelf
and
sat
a
long
while
in
an
armchair
,
trying
to
think
things
out
.
We
had
come
back
to
find
that
one
of
the
men
who
had
been
taken
sick
the
night
before
was
dead
;
the
other
was
obviously
dying
—
and
there
were
four
new
cases
.
By
the
time
our
evening
meal
was
over
,
there
were
two
more
still
.
What
the
complaint
was
I
had
no
idea
.
With
the
lack
of
services
and
the
way
things
were
going
in
general
,
it
might
have
been
a
number
of
things
.
I
thought
of
typhoid
,
but
I
’
d
a
hazy
idea
that
the
incubation
period
ruled
that
out
—
not
that
it
would
have
made
much
difference
if
I
bad
known
.
All
I
did
know
about
it
was
that
it
was
something
nasty
enough
to
make
that
red
-
haired
young
man
use
his
pistol
and
change
his
mind
about
following
my
party
.
