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The wasp factory by iain banks7/5/2023 ![]() He didn't see me, because I was too well hidden. He stood for a while, looking round about at the quiet dunes and the settling birds. I could see him press the button on the phone. He got off the bike at the bridge and left it propped against the suspension cables, then walked to the middle of the swaying bridge, where the gate is. I made sure the head was secure, then clambered to the top of the dune to watch with my binoculars.ĭiggs, the policeman from the town, was coming down the path on his bike, pedalling hard, his head down as the wheels sank part way into the sandy surface. I was just sticking one of the mouse heads back on when the birds went up into the evening air, kaw-calling and screaming, wheeling over the path through the dunes where it went near their nests. ![]() One of the Poles held a rat head with two dragonflies, the other a seagull and two mice. I already knew something was going to happen the Factory told me.Īt the north end of the island, near the tumbled remains of the slip where the handle of the rusty winch still creaks in an easterly wind, I had two Poles on the far face of the last dune. I had been making the rounds of the Sacrifice Poles the day we heard my brother had escaped. ![]()
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