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Langdon saw his clothes on a nearby counter, folded inside a clear plastic bag. Then, very gently and methodically, he surveyed his sterile surroundings. He took deep breaths and let the pain pass. Langdon turned his head, but the movement sent a spike of pain radiating through his skull. The bearded man put a finger to his lips and then rushed out, calling for someone down the hall. He had a shaggy beard, bushy mustache, and gentle eyes that radiated a thoughtful calm beneath his overgrown eyebrows. He closed his eyes, trying to remember an accident.Ī man in scrubs hurried in, apparently alerted by Langdon’s racing heart monitor. Beneath his matted hair, he found the hard nubs of a dozen or so stitches caked with dried blood.
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Gingerly, he reached up with his free arm and touched his scalp, trying to locate the source of his headache.

Where am I? What happened? The back of Langdon’s head throbbed, a gnawing pain. His pulse quickened, and the machines kept pace, pinging more rapidly.

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He looked down and saw an IV tugging at the skin of his forearm. Langdon tried to move his right arm, but a sharp pain restrained him. The sharp smell of medicinal alcohol hung in the air, and somewhere a machine pinged in quiet rhythm with his heart. Her entire body started vibrating intensely, and then, in a rush of thunder, she exploded into a thousand splintering shards of light. Without warning, she began radiating a white light … brighter and brighter. The man’s pale thigh bore a single letter -written in mud- R. But how? Why? She pointed now to a writhing pair of legs, which protruded upside down from the earth, apparently belonging to some poor soul who had been buried headfirst to his waist. An amulet of lapis lazuli hung around her neck-a single snake coiled around a staff. She had a sternly set jaw, deep soulful eyes, and long, silver- gray hair that cascaded over her shoulders in ringlets. She was strikingly beautiful, and yet older than Langdon had imagined-in her sixties perhaps, stately and strong, like a timeless statue. In response, the woman reached up and slowly lifted the veil from her face. The woman moved toward him, holding out her slender hands, as if beckoning for help. He could hear the mournful cries of human suffering echoing across the water. There were hundreds of them now, maybe thousands, some still alive, writhing in agony, dying unthinkable deaths … consumed by fire, buried in feces, devouring one another. When Langdon raised his eyes again to the veiled woman, the bodies at her feet had multiplied. Langdon took a step toward the river, but he could see the waters were bloodred and too deep to traverse. “Who are you?” he called out, but his voice made no sound. Langdon heard the words as if she had spoken them inside his head.

In her hand she gripped a blue tainia cloth, which she now raised in honor of the sea of corpses at her feet. On the far bank, the woman stood facing him, motionless, solemn, her face hidden by a shroud. Robert Langdon gazed at her across a river whose churning waters ran red with blood. THE MEMORIES MATERIALIZED slowly … like bubbles surfacing from the darkness of a bottomless well.Ī veiled woman.
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CHAPTER 1 - Inferno (Dan Brown) | Read books online free without registration and downloading Dan Brown « Inferno» Subject: Thriller/Detective CHAPTER 1
