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第15部分

cw.blackalibi-第15部分

小说: cw.blackalibi 字数: 每页4000字

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  A period of trancelike inanition followed for a short while; she was conscious of still stumbling on; but her mind was a little hazy。 Even terror had bee a little blunted; lost some of its sharp edge; though it was still with her。 She was experiencing a sort of hang…over of the mental faculties; brought on by shock and overstimulation。
  And then suddenly a little sound came to her; roused her; brought her back to whiplike alertness again。 A little sound of life; the first she'd heard since this horrendous solitude had begun。 The first besides her own screams and footfalls; the first objective one ing from outside her own travail。 The sweetest thing she'd ever heard; sweeter than the sweetest note of music ever struck; lovelier than the loveliest birdcall ever trilled。 A little discord; a thing between a squeak and a; grunt; faint; far…off; ugly; awkward; gauche; but; oh; how wele。 The distant honk of a car horn sounded in passage。
  The outside world; the world of the living; was someplace near here; closer at hand than she'd suspected。 She stood there straining her ears; forcing them beyond their powers of attunement; to try to catch it again。 It wouldn't e again。 Just once; and then no more。 She held her breath; she even quieted one of the stirring strips of torn garment banging from her; so that there wouldn't be the slightest sound about her that might cause her to lose it。 But no; it wouldn't e again。
  She didn't know which way to go; for she hadn't been quick enough to catch which way it had seemed to e from。 If she moved incautiously she was afraid she might be going farther away instead of nearer to it; end up by losing it altogether。 It hadn't e from behind her; that was the one thing she was sure of。
  Since her ears couldn't aid her; or were given no second opportunity to; she tried to force her eyes to do service in their stead。 But the darkness seemed to lie impartially around her in all the three remaining directions… No; wait; didn't there seem to be an evenness to it; over there; on her right; as though there were a surface backing it instead of it continuing to an unconfined depth? Didn't those motelike flicks of moonlight peering through the leaves over there seem upright against something; instead of lying flat upon the ground?
  She struck out suddenly; all hopes of recovering the original position at which she'd heard the telltale sound gladly cast away on the single chance of being right about it。 Through grass; and over lumpy rises at times that; though they might well have been graves; were robbed of all power to terrify her now; for this was life itself that was beckoning to her through their midst。 They could have yawned open under her feet and she would have still leaped across them from lip to lip; the quicker to get where she was going。
  And there it was at last; something upright looming there ahead of her; ing closer; gliding toward her with her running; striking at last against the flats of her hands; outstretched to it in appeal; with a roughness of masonry; a scratchy prickiness of mortar; that was more caressing to the touch than velvet or satin could have been。 The boundary wall; the limit of death; the line beyond which it did not go。
  Pressed against it; motionless at last; arms upright at her sides; she put her lips to it; kissed it in poignant gratitude。
  She must have been making her way; all unsuspecting; along parallel to it for some time past; although it was set out at a considerable distance away from the path she had been following。 It obviously wasn't the front wail; where the gate was; for she had been moving steadily away from that the whole time。 Unless; of course; she had made a plete; blind circuit of the place in the dark; and e back to where she had started from。 But more likely it was either one of the side walls; or the rear one。 She had probably gone entirely through the dread place; to its other end。
  There was a noticeable hum now in the air; ing from the other side of it。 Faint and disembodied; an echoing murmur from far off; but still able to intrude upon the stillness that reigned in here。 It was the hum; the drone; that es from houses; from streets; in the distance; in the night。 It must be built up on the other side of this wall; or at least to within a short distance of it。 A finger of the city must stretch out toward the cemetery from the rear; even though the main gate around at the other side gave onto more or less open country。
  And then; in confirmation; the axle of a tramcar wheel grated as it rounded a turn; off in the distance someplace but querulously audible。
  She began to beat her way along the inside of the wall; face turned to look up hopefully at the top。 It was too smooth; too high; to be scaled unaided; even if she'd had the strength left。 Why had they had to make it so high? What had the dead in here to fear from the living?
  Some of the trees; she noticed; seemed to grow fairly close to the wall。 The branches of certain ones even spanned the top of it; occasionally。 Perhaps if she could get up the trunk of one; she could work her way out along one of those overreaching branches and transfer from it to the top of the wall。 Even if she couldn't descend from there unaided; she would at least be in a better position〃 to attract someone's attention on the outside。 She couldn't from down below here; where she was。 Her voice seemed to be gone; from overuse; she could only make low whimpering noises now。 And there was obviously no ground…level gap within this solid bulwark; at least not near enough to be of any use to her。
  Most were set too far in; there was a gap up above that would have defeated her even if she had been able to get to the proper height; or else the slenderness of the trunk itself warned that the upper reaches would be even more unsubstantial; she would only have succeeded in killing herself。 She found one at last that seemed just right; although it was hard to be sure in the dark。 By standing still under it and peering intently for several minutes she thought she could make out a thick; massive bough forking out from it; in a straight line over the wall and beyond。 It looked from where she was nearly as broad in girth as the lower trunk itself。
  She tried to clasp her arms around its base to gain a fulcrum; and they wouldn't meet around it; it was too large in diameter。 She tried to claw her way up it; then; on one side only; to dig her nails into the rough…edged bark and hang her entire weight on them。 The bark only peeled off in little segments; her nails broke; and the tips of her fingers grew lacerated。 The tips of her prodding; gouging shoes slipped down again each time without being able to gain a hold。 Once she was able to get up as high as half her own height again; but then she slid down again; scratching and bruising her own skin。 She let herself lie where she'd fallen a minute; to rest。
  Oh; if she'd only been twelve again; she knew she would have been able to do it。 When she was twelve; and they'd taken her to the country in the summer; she'd climbed many trees for pears and apples and thought nothing of it。 And now; the pear; the apple; was safety; life itself…and she couldn't do it!
  She cried a little with the bitterness of frustration; pleaded with those who weren't there to hear; with her head lowered toward the ground; there in the darkness at the foot of that pitiless tree。 〃Raul; Raulcito; why did you go away like that? Mother; mother of my life; let me e back to you。 I'll never do it again。 Why didn't I listen to you? You always were right。 You didn't want me to leave the house。〃
  The words died to a blurred whimpering; the whimpering muted to disconsolate sobbing breaths。
  Then suddenly as she lay there like that; head and shoulders reared off the ground; the rest of her sprawled supinely out upon it; a sound came from over the wall; so matter…of…fact; so casual; so close at hand…she couldn't believe it was real; she couldn't believe she'd actually heard it。 It was the hollow; slightly wooden…sounding clap a car door gives when it is carelessly flung closed against the chassis。 And then a lesser sound; the snap of a key in a lock。
  An empty car must have been parked outside there all along; close up against the cemetery wall; waiting for someone。 And that someone had just returned to it and gotten in; and was about to drive off all unknowing!
  It was down farther; a few yards below; judging by the direction of the sound。 And yet for all practical purposes; its and;her own parallel placement could be considered a freak of exactitude; they were as good as diametrically opposite one another; she and this potential savior car。 Had she seen it; known it was there all the while; she could scarcely have e to a halt much closer to it than she had。 Strange are the geometrical patterns devised by night and the stars。
  Oh limbs; lift me; bear me up; just this one time more。 Oh voice; call out strongly enough in time to be heard。 Quick; quick; a second's inability may be already too late!
  She opened her lips spasmodically; and a soundless gush; residue of exhaustion; was all that came the first time。 Then a second try and voice followed。 She couldn't hear it。 A torrent of mechanical noise drowned out her lungs' pitiful effort。 He'd started the motor。 Six cylinders against one fragile larynx。 It was a raucous engine; that must have needed oiling somewhat; that bombarded the night。
  She was upright and thrashing; almost spinning; frenziedly along the inside of the wall; and even as she did so it already seemed to begin gliding unnoticeably ahead of her; increasing those few yards of differential there had been to start with; as the wheels began to turn。 For a long; unendurable moment there was an equipoise; a hideous contest between her fraying screams and the increasing revolutions of its cylinders。 Which could keep it up the longest? She was so tired and the engine was so strong。
  Then it began to pull away; not just glide now but accelerate into full career。 And in the very act was her salvation。 It ebbed a little in volume; the rhythm of a more even vibration set in。 Her voice found an opening in that; an echo of it managed to slash through

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