stephen king - mist-第18部分

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　Someone　was　sobbing。　Mrs。　Carmody　was　screaming　about　abominations　from　within　the　earth。　Someone　told　her　gruffly　that　she'd　shut　up　if　she　knew　what　was　good　for　her。　Same　old　shit。
　Ollie　took　Mrs。　Dumfries'　gun　from　his　pocket　and　I　grabbed　his　arm。　〃Don't　be　crazy。〃
　He　shook　free。　〃I　know　what　I'm　doing；〃　he　said。
　He　tapped　the　barrel　of　the　gun　on　the　window；　his　face　set　in　a　nearly　masklike　expression　of　distaste。　The　speed　of　the　creatures'　wings　increased　until　they　were　only　a　blur…if　you　hadn't　known；　you　might　have　believed　they　weren't　winged　creatures　at　all。　Then　they　simply　flew　away。
　Some　of　the　others　saw　what　Ollie　had　done　and　got　the　idea。　They　used　the　mop　handles　to　tap　on　the　windows。
　The　things　flew　away；　but　came　right　back。　Apparently　they　had　no　more　brains　than　your　average　housefly；　either。　The　near…panic　dissolved　in　a　babble　of　conversation。　I　heard　someone　asking　someone　else　what　he　thought　those　things　would　do　if　they　landed　on　you。　That　was　a　question　I　had　no　interest　in　seeing　answered。
　The　tapping　on　the　windows　began　to　die　away。　Ollie　turned　toward　me　and　started　to　say　something；　but　before　he　could　do　more　than　open　his　mouth；　something　came　out　of　the　fog　and　snatched　one　of　the　crawling　things　off　the　glass。　I　think　I　screamed。　I'm　not　sure。
　It　was　a　flying　thing。　Beyond　that　I　could　not　have　said　for　sure。　The　fog　appeared　to　darken　in　exactly　the　way　Ollie　had　described；　only　the　dark　smutch　didn't　fade　away；　it　solidified　into　something　with　flapping；　leathery　wings；　an　albino…white　body；　and　reddish　eyes。　it　thudded　into　the　glass　hard　enough　to　make　it　shiver。　Its　beak　opened。　It　scooped　the　pink　thing　in　and　was　gone。　The　whole　incident　took　no　more　than　five　seconds。　I　had　a　bare　final　impression　of　the　pink　thing　wiggling　and　flapping　as　it　went　down　the　hatch；　the　way　a　small　fish　will　wiggle　and　flap　in　the　beak　of　a　seagull。
　Now　there　was　another　thud；　and　yet　another。　People　began　screaming　again；　and　there　was　a　stampede　toward　the　back　of　the　store。　Then　there　was　a　more　piercing　scream；　one　of　pain；　and　Ollie　said；　〃Oh　my　God；　that　old　lady　fell　down　and　they　just　ran　over　her。〃
　He　ran　back　through　the　checkout　aisle。　I　turned　to　follow；　and　then　I　saw　something　that　stopped　me　dead　where　I　was　standing。
　High　up　and　to　my　right；　one　of　the　lawn…food　bags　was　sliding　slowly　backward。　Tom　Smalley　was　right　under　it；　staring　out　into　the　mist　through　his　loophole。
　Another　of　the　pink　bugs　landed　on　the　thick　plate　glass　of　the　loophole　where　Ollie　and　I　had　been　standing。　One　of　the　flying　things　swooped　down　and　grabbed　it。　The　old　woman　who　had　been　trampled　went　on　screaming　in　a　shrill；　cracked　voice。
　That　bag。　That　sliding　bag。
　〃Smalley！〃　I　shouted。　〃Look　out'　Heads　up！〃
　In　the　general　confusion；　he　never　heard　me。　The　bag　teetered；　then　fell。　It　struck　him　squarely　on…the　head。　He　went　down　hard；　catching　his　jaw　on　the　shelf　that　ran　below　the　show　window。
　One　of　the　albino　flying　things　was　squirming　its　way　through　the　jagged　hole　in　the　glass。　I　could　hear　the　soft　scraping　sound　that　it　made；　now　that　some　of　the　screaming　had　stopped。　Its　red　eyes　glittered　in　its　triangular　head；　which　was　slightly　cocked　to　one　side。　A　heavy；　hooked　beak　opened　and　closed　rapaciously。　It　looked　a　bit　like　the　paintings　of　pterodactyls　you　may　have　seen　in　the　dinosaur　books；　more　like　something　out　of　a　lunatic's　nightmare。
　I　grabbed　one　of　the　torches　and　slam…dunked　it　into　a　can　of　charcoal　lighter　fluid；　tipping　it　over　and　spilling　a　pool　of　the　stuff　across　the　floor。
　The　flying　creature　paused　on　top　of　the　lawn…Food　bags；　glaring　around；　shifting　slowly　and　malignantly　from　one　taloned　foot　to；　the　other。　It　was　a　stupid　creature；　I　am　quite　sure　of　that。　Twice　it　tried　to　spread　its　wings；　which　struck　the　walls　and　then　folded　themselves　over　its　hunched　back　like　the　wings　of　a　griffin。　The　third　time　it　tried；　it　lost　its　balance　and　fell　clumsily　from　its　perch；　still　trying　to　spread　its　wings。　It　landed　on　Tom　Smalley's　back。　One　flex　of　its　claws　and　Tom's　shirt　ripped　wide　open。　Blood　began　to　flow。
　I　was　there；　less　than　three　feet　away；　My　torch　was　dripping　lighter　fluid。　I　was　emotionally　pumped　up　to　kill　it　if　I　could　。。。　and　then　realized　I　had　no　matches　to　light　it　with。　I　had　used　the　last　one　lighting　a　cigar　for　Mr。　McVey　an　hour　ago。
　The　place　was　in　pandemonium　now。　People　had　seen　the　thing　roosting　on　Smalley's　back；　something　no　one　in　the　world　had　seen　before。　it　darted　its　head　forward　at　a　questing　angle；　and　tore　a　chunk　of　meat　from　the　back　of　Smalley's　neck。
　I　was　getting　ready　to　use　the　torch　as　a　bludgeon　when　the　cloth…wrapped　head　of　it　suddenly　blazed　alight。　Dan　Miller　was　there；　holding　a　Zippo　lighter　with　a　Marine　emblem　on　it。　His　face　was　as　harsh　as　a　rock　with　horror　and　fury。
　〃Kill　it；〃　he　said　hoarsely。　〃Kill　it　if　you　can。〃　Standing　beside　him　was　Ollie。　He　had　Mrs。　Dumfries'　。38　in　his　hand；　but　he　had　no　clear　shot。
　The　thing　spread　its　wings　and　flapped　them　once　…apparently　not　to　fly　away　but　to　secure　a　better　hold　on　its　prey…and　then　its　leathery…white；　membranous　wings　enfolded　poor　Smalley's　entire　upper　body。　Then　the　sounds　came…mortal　tearing　sounds　that　I　cannot　bear　to　describe　in　any　detail。
　All　of　this　happened　in　bare　seconds。　Then　I　thrust　my　torch　at　the　thing。　There　was　the　sensation　of　striking
　something　with　no　more　real　substance　than　a　box　kite。　The　next　moment　the　entire　creature　was　blazing。　It　made　a　screeching　sound　and　its　wings　spread；　its　head　jerked　and　its　reddish　eyes　rolled　with　what　I　most　sincerely　hope　was　great　agony。　It　took　off　with　a　sound　like　linen　bedsheets　flapping　on　a　clothesline　in　a　stiff　spring　breeze。　It　uttered　that　rusty　shrieking　sound　again。
　Heads　turned　to　follow　its　flaming；　dying　course。　I　think　that　nothing　in　the　entire　business　stands　in　my　memory　so　strongly　as　that　bird…thing　blazing　a　zigzagging　course　above　the　aisles　of　the　'Federal　Supermarket；　dropping　charred　and　smoking　bits　of　itself　here　and　there。　it　finally　crashed　into　the　spaghetti　sauces；　splattering　Ragu　and　Prince　and　Prima　Salsa　everywhere　like　gouts　of　blood。　it　was　little　more　than　ash　and　bone。　The　smell　of　its　burning　was　high　and　sickening。　And　underlying　it　like　a　counterpoint　was　the　thin　and　acrid　stench　of　the　mist；　eddying　in　through　the　broken　place　in　the　glass。
　For　a　moment　there　was　utter　silence。　We　were　united　in　the　black　wonder　of　that　brightly　flaming　deathflight。　Then　someone　howled。　Others　screamed。　And　from　somewhere　in　the　back　I　could　hear　my　son　crying。
　A　hand　grabbed　me。　it　was　Bud　Brown。　His　eyes　were　bulging　from　their　sockets。　His　lips　were　drawn　back　from　his　false　teeth　in　a　snarl。　〃One　of　those　other　things；〃　he　said；　and　pointed。
　One　of　the　bugs　bad　e　in　through　the　hole　and　it　now。　perched　on　a　lawn…food　bag；　housefly　wings　buzzing…you　could　hear　them；　it　sounded　like　a　cheap　department…　store　electric　fan…eyes　bulging　from　their　stalks。　its　pink　and　noxiously　plump　body　was　aspirating　rapidly。
　I　moved　toward　it。　My　torch　was　guttering　but　not　yet　out。　But　Mrs。　Reppler；　the　third…grade　teacher；　beat　me　to　it。　She　was　maybe　fifty…five；　maybe　sixty；　rope…thin。　Her　body　had　a　tough；　dried…out　look　that　always　makes　me　think　of　beef　jerky。
　She　had　a　can　of　Raid　in　each　hand　like　some　crazy　gunslinger　in　an　existential　edy。　She　uttered　a　snarl　of　anger　that　would　have　done　credit　to　a　caveman　splitting　the　skull　of　an　enemy。　Holding　the　pressure　cans　out　at　the　full　length　of　each　arm；　she　pressed　the　buttons。　A　thick　spray　of　insect…killer　coated　the　thing。　It　went　into　throes　of　agony；　twisting　and　turning　crazily　and　at　last　falling　from　the　bags；　bouncing　off　the　body　of　Tom　Smalley…who　was　dead　beyond　any　doubt　or　question…and　finally　landing　on　the　floor。　Its　wings　buzzed　madly；　but　they　weren't　taking　it　anywhere；　they　were　too　heavily　coated　with　Raid。　A　few　moments　later　the　wings　slowed；　then　stopped。　It　was　dead。
　You　could　hear　people　crying　now。　And　moaning。　The　old　lady　who　had　been　trampled　was　moaning。　And　you　could　hear　laughter。　The　laughter　of　the　damned。　Mrs。　Reppler　stood　over　her　kill；　her　thin　chest　rising　and　failing　rapidly。
　Hatlen　and　Miller　had　found　one　of　those　dollies　that　the　stockboys　use　to　trundle　cases　of　things　around　the　store；　and　together　they　heaved　it　atop　the　lawn…food　bags；　blocking　off　the　wedge…shaped　hole　in　the　glass。　As　a　temporary　measure；　it　was　a　good　one。
　Amanda　Dumfries　came　forward　like　a　sleepwalker。　In　one　hand　she　held　a　plastic　floor　bucket。　In　the　other　she　held　a　whisk　broom；　still　done　up　in　its　see…through　wrapping。　She　bent；　her　eyes　still　wide　and　blank；　and　swept　the　dead　pink　thing　…　bug；　slug；　whatever　it　was…into　the　bucket。　You　could　hear　the　crackle　of　the　wrapping　on　the　whisk　broom　as　it　brushed　the　floor。　She　walked　over　to　the　OUT　door。　There　were　none　of　the　bugs　on　it。　She　opened　it　a　little　way　and　threw　the　bucket　out。　It　landed　on　its　side　and　rolled　back　and　forth　in　ever…decreasing　arcs。　One　of　the　pink　things　buzzed　out　of　the　night；　landed　on　the　floor　pail；　and　began　to　crawl　over　it。
　Amanda　burst　into　tears。　I　walked　over　and　put　an　arm　around　her　shoulders。
　At　one　thirty　the　following　morning　I　was　sitting　with　my　back　against　the　white　enamel　side　of　the　meat　counter　in　a　semidoze。　Billy's　head　was　in　my　lap。　He　was　solidly　asleep。　Not　far　away　Amanda　Dumfries　was　sleeping　with　her　head
　pillowed　on　someone's　jacket。
　Not　long　after　the　flaming　death　of　the　bird…thing；　Ollie　and　I　had　gone　back　out　to　the　storage　area　and　had　gathered　up　half　a　dozen　of　the　pads　such　as　the　one　I'd　covered　Billy　with　earlier。　Several　people　were　sleeping　on　these。　We　had　also　brought　back　several　heavy　crates　of　oranges　and　pears；　and　four　of　us　working　together　had　been　able　to　swing　them　to　the　tops　of　the　lawn…food　bags　in　front　of　the　hole　in　the　glass。　The　bird…creatures　would　have　a　tough　time　shifting　one　of　those　crates；　they　weighed　about　ninety　pounds　each。
　But　the　birds　and　the　buglike　things　the　birds　ate　weren't　the　only　things　out　there。　There　was　the　tentacled　thing　that　had　ta