[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
A blinding flash of light and the world exploded into pain. After that the darkness, the warmth of his
mother's womb and the shock of birth. Then, slowly, colours and smells began to invade him, together
with a constant hunger to be appeased and a growing awareness of the friendly-cruel giants who seemed
to be in command.
He was a puppy. The men called him Fluke and the name was apt. After all it was by a fluke that he
was different from other dogs, or from other creatures of the animal world with whom he had mental
communication. Even Rumbo, who at least had a more than average canine understanding of the
problems of survival in a man's world, did not seem to want to know where he came from. Rumbo was a
mongrel, what men might have called a petty criminal had they been able to read his mind. Perhaps he
roped in Fluke as his accomplice in his raids on butchers and supermarkets because he dimly realised
that the two of them had something in common.
But as the memories returned to him, Fluke knew that he was really alone. And he began to see what
that thing was that singled him out from the rest of the dog world. A blinding flash of light and the world
exploded into pain. After that the darkness, the warmth of his mother's womb and the shock of birth. By
some fluke he had been born as a dog. But whoever he had been and however he had died, Fluke was
really a man, with a man's intelligence and feelings, trapped inside the body of a dog, howling for
vengeance.
FLUKE tells the humorous and startling adventures of a man who wakes one morning to find he has
become a dog. A different kind of novel by an author whose novels, since his first, The Rats, have all
been bestsellers.
FLUKE
Original copyright year:1977
ISBN 0 450 03432 1 (Hardback)
Page 1
 FLUKE
JAMES HERBERT
Also by James Herbert
The Rats
Lair
Domain
The Fog
The Survivor
Fluke
The Spear
The Dark
Lair
The Jonah
Shrine
Moon
Page 2
 Published by Hodder & Stoughton
The Magic Cottage
FLUKE
JAMES HERBERT
NEW ENGLISH LIBRARY
Part One
One
The warmth from the sun beat against my eyelids, soft persuasion to open them. Noises crept into my
ears then burst through to my consciousness, confusing sounds, a gabble broken by strident pitches.
Cautiously, almost unwillingly, I half opened my eyes, the sleep in them sticky, a soft moist glue.
Through the blur I saw a dark furry body, big as me. It heaved rhythmically up and down, up and down,
in a contented sleep. My mouth opened wide as a yawn escaped and my eyes suddenly snapped fully
open. Other bodies lay around me, blacks and greys - mixtures of both - some of the coats short and
Page 3
 straight, others tufty and curly. A flash of white leapt over me and I felt sharp teeth nip at my ear. I pulled
away with a whimper. Where was I? Who was I? What was I?
Smells came to my nostrils, unpleasant at first and then strangely pleasing. I wrinkled my nose, breathing
in the fumes, powerful odours that somehow made me secure. I wriggled my body closer to the other
warm bodies, away from the energetic white pest that finally gave up and bounded towards the
surrounding wire. He stood up on his hind legs, resting his paws on the top of the wiring, his rump and
stubby tail waggling excitedly. A huge pallid hand reached down and he was lifted away out of sight.
I whimpered again, this time with shock. The hand - so big, so strong! And the smells emanating from it
- so alien. Frightening, yet ... interesting. I tried to snuggle further into the packed lumps of sluggish fur,
seeking a contact I didn't understand. Why was I surrounded by these monster animals and why did I
feel so akin to them?
The sleep had left me now and my body quivered with awareness. I was in some sort of pen - it looked
very large to me - the floor of which was covered in straw. The wiring around us was high, much higher
than me, and my companions were dogs. I don't think I really felt fear at that moment; probably just
confusion. I remember my breath coming out in short panting gasps and I think I urinated a little, just a
trickle. I know I tried to burrow even further between two plump bodies, with two of which I felt some
association, some common bond. Now I can guess it was because we were related, but at the time I
reacted to instinct alone.
I peeped around me, keeping my head low, my jaw firmly tucked into the straw. Everything was so
muted, the colours barely distinguishable apart from their varying tones, only hues of greys and muddy
browns. Yet I saw the colours in my mind's eye because I had known them before ... before...
Before?
In my bewildered state even the question, let alone the answer, evaded me.
But now colours were already beginning to filter through, a legacy left to me, a gift that separated me
from my fellow creatures. The soft greys turned to light browns, the denser greys to darker browns. The
blacks remained black, but deeper. The rainbows flew at me, filling my head with a dazzling variegation,
blinding in its intensity. The blacks were no longer black, but blue, indigo, hundreds of shades of browns.
The colours hurt my eyes and I was forced to close them. Yet the sun still stung through and the colours
still exploded before me. And then the spectrum took its proper order, the colours found their correct
balance; the flashes became subdued, the tones began to relate to each other. I opened my eyes and the
brief monochrome world had vanished and been replaced by a rich, moving canvas where each colour
belonged to itself yet interlocked and shared with its opposites. Even today, I still delight in everything I
see, new, surprising colours revealing themselves without warning, seeming to be borne freshly before me
only for me to realise they'd always been there but that I'd never really looked. The colours are more
muted now, but still fresher and more interesting that they'd been in the past. I suppose it's something to
do with the world being bigger to me; being closer to the ground somehow makes me closer to nature.
Having passed through this curious stage I neither understood nor appreciated, I began to be a little
more adventurous in my exploration. I lifted my head from the straw and stretched my neck upwards.
Faces passed by, looking down at me, funny tender smiles on them. At that time, they all looked the
same to me; I couldn't tell male and female apart, nor one individual from another. Nor did I know what
they were exactly. Strangely enough, I could tell the difference between the smaller giants right from the
Page 4
 start, not just from the elders, but as individuals. Several looked down at me, laughing and making
strange noises with their mouths, peering expectantly at the taller ones behind. Above these giants I could
see enormous grey-brick buildings stretching far into the sky - and the sky itself seemed so blue, so deep
and so clear. Sky is the purest thing I've ever known, whether it's the cold azure of dawn, the striking
cobalt of day, or the deepest silver-perforated blackness of night. On the darkest day, when the sky is
masked by sullen clouds, the tiniest patch of blue makes my heart jump a little. It seemed then as if I were
seeing sky for the first time, and in a way I was - through different eyes.
I gazed rapturously at the blue ceiling for several moments until the rays of the sun made my eyes mist
over, causing me to blink rapidly. It was then I realised what I was. I wasn't shocked, for my new brain
was still functioning mainly as it should and memories were still lying dormant within it. I accepted what I
was; only later did I question my new beginning. But at that time, I thought it was perfectly normal to be a
dog.
Two
Is it doubt I sense in you, or something more? Maybe a little fear. All I ask is that you let your mind
listen, that you forget for a moment your prejudices and beliefs; when I've finished my story you can
decide for yourself. There's a lot that's not clear to me yet and I know it never will be - not in this
existence anyway -but I may help you to understand your life a little more. And I may help you to be less
afraid.
As I looked around, my vision so different to yours, I felt the fur at the back of my neck being tugged,
and suddenly the straw bed dropped away leaving my paws waggling frantically in empty air. A huge
rough hand came up from beneath and the pressure was taken off the taut skin at my neck as my bottom
was given support. I didn't like the smell of the hands at all, or their hardness. Each smell was separate
and mostly new to me. They didn't blend together to make one complete odour; each had its own identity
and combined to represent the man. It's difficult for me to explain, but as humans identify each other by
assembling in their mind's eye the various features of another person - the shape of the nose, the colour of
the eyes, hair, general skin tones, the set of the lips, the build of the body - we animals find it easier to
assemble through our senses the various body smells. They're much more reliable, for physical features
can be disguised or may change through age, but there's no disguising your own personal scent. It's a
gradual build-up from everything you've done in your time and no amount of scrubbing can erase it. The
food you've eaten, the clothes you've worn, the places you've visited; that's what gives us your identity,
and no visual aspect is more recognisable.
I suppose the giant (I still had no concept of man at that point) who lifted me from the pen reeked of
tobacco, booze, fatty foods and the aroma I've found is ever present - sex - but at the time they were all
new to me and, as I've said before, frightening, unpleasant, yet interesting. The only familiar smell was the
doggy one, and my sensitive nose sought this out and clung to it for comfort. I could now see what
seemed like millions and millions of two-legged animals shuffling backwards and forwards, their noises
hurting my ears and baffling me. I was in a street-market, of course, and even in those early stages there
was some recognition, some familiarity with the place. Rough, growling sounds came from somewhere
Page 5
  [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]