Necroscope by Brian Lumley

At first they went to and fro, almost side by side, but then the slighter figure took the lead. And moving with some skill he rapidly picked up speed to come skimming upriver towards the spot where the watchers were hiding. Dragosani and Batu crouched down a little then, but at the last moment before he drew level with them Keogh turned in a wide loop which took in the entire breadth of the river and headed back the other way.

Behind him, Shukshin had almost slowed to a halt as Keogh made his run. The older man was far less certain on the ice, seemed awkward and even clumsy by comparison; but as Keogh sped back towards him he now turned to skate in the same direction, but in such a way as to impede the faster man. Keogh leaned over in a slalom at such an angle that his skates threw up a sheet of snow and ice as he missed the other by inches, then threw himself over the other way at a similar angle to bring himself back on course. And a scant twelve inches away, his skates carved ice on the very rim of the sabotaged circle where fresh-formed ice barely held the central disc in place.

And Shukshin was so close on his heels that he, too, must swerve wildly, his arms windmilling, to avoid his own trap! ‘Careful, Stepfather!’ Keogh called back over his shoulder as he sped away. ‘I almost collided with you then.’

Dragosani and Batu heard. Batu said: ‘A fortunate young man, this one – so far.’

‘Oh?’ Dragosani wasn’t so sure fortune had anything to do with it. Shukshin had been unable to specify Keogh’s talent: what if he was a telepath? He would have the power to pluck his stepfather’s treacherous thoughts right out of his head. ‘Myself, I think our blackmailer will find this more difficult than he thought.’

Shukshin had come to a halt now, standing still on the ice in a peculiar hunched stance and watching Keogh intently where he continued to skate. The Russian’s shoulders and chest rose and fell spasmodically and his body visibly shook, as if he were in pain or suffering from great emotional stress. ‘This way, Harry,’ he called harshly. ‘This way! You’re too good for me, I’m afraid. Why, you could skate circles around me!’

Keogh came back, circled the other’s hunched figure, and again. And with each sweep his skates went inches closer to disaster. Shukshin held out his arms and Keogh took his hands, spinning round the older man and turning him on his own axis.

‘And now,’ Max Batu whispered to Dragosani where they looked on, ‘The coup de grace!’

Suddenly Shukshin stopped turning and appeared to stumble into Keogh. Keogh twisted his body to avoid him. Their hands were still locked. One of Keogh’s skates dug in where it cut through a skim of powdery snow and into the groove of the channel hacked by Shukshin. He was jerked to a halt and only Shukshin’s grip on his wrists kept him from falling on to the infirm disc of ice.

Shukshin laughed then, a crazed, baying laugh, and thrust Keogh away from him – thrust him towards death!

But Keogh held tight to the sleeves of Shukshin’s coat and as he was pushed so he pulled. Caught off balance Shukshin jerked forward; Keogh bent to one side and threw him over his hip – but when he released Shukshin, still the Russian held fast to him! With a cry of outrage the older man fell inside his own circle, dragging Keogh after him.

Both of them crashed down in a tangle on ice which at once shifted beneath them. The circle made cracking sounds at its rim, like small gunshots; water spouted up in black jets as the disc tilted and broke in two halves; Shukshin gave a cry of horror – a strange, mad cry like a wounded beast – as the semicircle of ice supporting him and Keogh stood on end and tipped them into the freezing, gurgling water.

‘Quick, Max!’ Dragosani snapped. ‘We can’t afford to lose both of them.’ He charged from behind the cover of the conifers with Batu close on his heels.

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