sk.dreamcatcher-第110部分

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diaphragm　clenched　and　he　vomited　helplessly　onto　the　dashboard：　nothing　solid　now；　only　bilious　strings　of　saliva。　For　a　moment　the　color　ran　out　of　the　world　and　the　rackety　roar　of　the　engine　faded。　He　fought　viciously　for　consciousness；　afraid　that　if　he　passed　out　for　even　a　moment；　Jonesy　might　somehow　be　able　to　take　control　again。
　　　　The　dog　whined。　Its　eyes　were　still　closed　but　its　rear　legs　twitched　spasmodically　and　its　ears　flicked。　Its　belly　was　distended；　the　skin　rippling。　Its　moment　was　near。
　　　　A　little　at　a　time；　color　and　reality　began　to　return。　Mr　Gray　took　several　deep　breaths；　coaxing　this　sick　and　unhappy　body　back　to　something　resembling　calm。　How　far　was　there　still　to　go？　He　didn't　think　it　could　be　far　now；　but　if　the　little　car　was　really　stuck；　he　would　have　to　walk　and　the　dog　couldn't。　The　dog　must　remain　asleep；　and　it　was　already　perilously　close　to　waking　again。
　　　　He　caressed　the　sleep…centers　of　its　rudimentary　brain。　He　wiped　at　his　slimy　mouth　as　he　did　it。　Part　of　his　mind　was　aware　of　Jonesy；　still　in　there；　blind　to　the　outside　world　but　awaiting　any　chance　to　leap　forward　and　sabotage　his　mission；　and；　incredibly；　another　part　of　his　mind　craved　more　food　…　craved　bacon；　the　very　stuff　which　had　poisoned　it。
　　　　Sleep；　little　friend。　Speaking　to　the　dog；　speaking　also　to　the　byrum。　And　both　listened。　Lad　ceased　whining。　His　paws　stopped　twitching。　The　ripples　running　across　the　dog's　belly　slowed　。　。　。　slowed　。　。　。　stopped。　This　calm　wouldn't　last　long；　but　for　now　all　was　well。　As　well　as　it　could　be。
　　　　Surrender；　Dorothy。
　　　　'Shut　up！'　Mr　Gray　said。　'Kiss　my　bender！'　He　put　the　Subaru　in　reverse　and　floored　the　accelerator。　The　motor　howled；　scaring　birds　up　from　the　trees；　but　it　was　no　good。　The　front　wheels　were　caught　firmly；　and　the　back　wheels　were　up；　spinning　in　the　air。
　　　　'Fuck！'　Mr　Gray　cried；　and　slanu…ned　Jonesy's　fist　down　on　the　steering　wheel。　'Jesus…Christ…bananas！　Fuck　me　Freddy！'
　　　　He　felt　behind　him　for　his　pursuers　and　got　nothing　clear；　only　a　sense　of　approach。　Two　groups　of　them；　and　the　one　that　was　closer　had　Duddits。　Mr　Gray　feared　Duddits；　sensed　that　he　was　the　one　most　responsible　for　how　absurdly；　infuriatingly　difficult　this　job　had　bee。　If　he　could　stay　ahead　of　Duddits；　all　would　end　well。　It　would　help　to　know　how　close　Duddits　was；　but　they　were　blocking　him　…　Duddits；　Jonesy；　and　the　one　called　Henry。　The　three　of　them　together　made　a　force　Mr　Gray　had　never　encountered　before；　and　he　was　afraid。
　　　　'But　I'm　still　enough　ahead；'　he　told　Jonesy；　getting　out。　He　slipped；　uttered　a　Beaver…curse；　then　slammed　the　door　shut。　It　was　snowing　again；　great　white　flakes　that　filled　the　air　like　confetti　and　splashed　against　Jonesy's　cheeks。　Mr　Gray　slogged　around　the　back　of　the　car；　boots　sliding　and　smooching　in　the　mud。　He　paused　for　a　moment　to　examine　the　corrugated　silver　back　of　the　pipe　rising　from　the　bottom　of　the　ditch　which　had　trapped　his　car　（he　had　also　fallen　victim　in　some　degree　to　his　host's　mostly　useless　but　infernally　sticky　curiosity）；　then　went　on　around　to　the　passenger　door。　'I'm　going　to　beat　your　asshole　friends　quite　handily。'
　　　　No　answer　to　this　goad；　but　he　sensed　Jonesy　just　as　he　sensed　the　others；　Jonesy　silent　but　still　the　bone　in　his　throat。
　　　　Never　mind　him。　Fuck　him。　The　dog　was　the　problem。　The　byrum　was　poised　to　e　out。　How　to　transport　the　dog？　　　
　　　　Back　into　Jonesy's　storage　vault。　For　a　moment　there　was　nothing　。　。　。　and　then　an　image　from　'Sunday　School'；　where　Jonesy　had　gone　as　a　child　to　learn　about　'God'　and　'God's　only　begotten　son'；　who　appeared　to　be　a　byrum；　creator　of　a　byrus　culture　which　Jonesy's　mind　identified　simultaneously　as　'Christianity'　and　'bullshit'。　The　image　was　very　clear；　from　a　book　called　'the　Holy　Bible'。　It　showed　'God's　only　begotten　son'　carrying　a　lamb　…　wearing　it；　almost。　The　lamb's　front　legs　hung　over　one　side　of　'begotten　son's'　chest；　its　rear　legs　over　the　other。
　　　　It　would　do。
　　　　Mr　Gray　pulled　out　the　sleeping　dog　and　draped　it　around　his　neck。　It　was　heavy　already　…　Jonesy's　muscles　were　stupidly；　infuriatingly　weak　…　and　it　would　be　much　worse　by　the　time　he　got　where　he　was　going　。　。　。　but　he　would　get　there。
　　　　He　set　off　up　East　Street　through　the　thickening　snow；　wearing　the　sleeping　border　collie　like　a　fur　stole。


2

The　new　snow　was　extremely　slippery；　and　once　they　were　on　Route　32；　Freddy　was　forced　to　drop　his　speed　back　to　forty。　Kurtz　felt　like　howling　with　frustration。　Worse；　Perlmutter　was　slipping　away　from　him；　into　something　like　a　semi…a。　And　this　at　a　time；　goddam　him；　when　he　had　suddenly　been　able　to　read　the　one　Owen　and　his　new　friends　were　after；　the　one　they　called　Mr　Gray。
　　　　'He's　too　busy　to　hide；'　Pearly　said。　He　spoke　dreamily；　like　someone　on　the　edge　of　sleep。　'He's　afraid。　I　don't　know　about　Underhill；　boss；　but　Jonesy　。　。　。　Henry　。　。　。　Duddits　。　。　。　he's　afraid　of　them。　And　he's　right　to　be　afraid。　They　killed　Richie。'
　　　　'Who's　Richie；　buck？'　Kurtz　didn't　give　much　of　a　squirt；　but　he　wanted　Perlmutter　to　stay　awake。　He　sensed　they　were　ing　to　a　place　where　he　wouldn't　need　Perlmutter　anymore；　but　for　now　he　still　did。
　　　　'Don't　。　。　。　know　。　。　。'　The　last　word　became　a　snore。　The　Humvee　skidded　almost　sideways。　Freddy　cursed；　fought　the　wheel；　and　managed　to　regain　control　just　before　the　Hummer　hit　the　ditch。　Kurtz　took　no　notice。　He　leaned　over　the　seat　and　slapped　Perlmutter　on　the　side　of　the　face；　hard。　As　he　did　so；　they　passed　the　store　with　the　sign　reading　BEST　BAIT；　WHY　WAIT？　in　the　window。
　　　　'Owwww！　Pearly'　s　eyes　fluttered　open。　The　whites　were　now　yellowish。　Kurtz　cared　about　this　no　more　than　he　cared　about　Richie。　'Dooon't；　boss　。　。　　
　　　　'Where　are　they　now？'
　　　　　'The　water；'　Pearly　said。　His　voice　was　weak；　that　of　a　petulant　invalid。　The　belly　under　his　coat　was　a　distended；　occasionally　twitching　mountain。　Ma　Joad　in　her　ninth　month；　God　bless　and　keep　us；　Kurtz　thought。　'The　waaaa　。　。　。'
　　　　His　eyes　closed　again。　Kurtz　drew　his　hand　back　to　slap。
　　　　'Let　him　sleep；'　Freddy　said。
　　　　Kurtz　looked　at　him；　eyebrows　raised。
　　　　'It's　got　to　be　the　Reservoir　he　means。　And　if　it　is；　we　don't　need　him　anymore。'　He　pointed　through　the　windshield　at　the　tracks　of　the　few　cars　that　had　been　out　this　afternoon　ahead　of　them　on　Route　32。　They　were　black　and　stark　against　the　fall　of　fresh　white　snow。　'There　won't　be　anyone　up　there　today　but　us；　boss。　Just　us。'
　　　　'Praise　God。'　Kurtz　sat　back；　picked　his　nine…millimeter　up　off　the　seat；　looked　at　it；　and　put　it　back　in　its　holster。　'Tell　me　something；　Freddy。'
　　　　'I　will　if　I　can。'
　　　　'When　this　is　over；　how　does　Mexico　sound　to　you？'
　　　　'Good。　As　long　as　we　don't　drink　the　water。'
　　　　Kurtz　burst　out　laughing　and　patted　Freddy　on　the　shoulder。　Beside　Freddy；　Archie　Perlmutter　slipped　deeper　into　a。　Inside　his　lower　intestine；　in　that　rich　dump　of　discarded　food　and　worn…out　dead　cells；　something　for　the　first　time　opened　its　black　eyes。


3

Two　stone　posts　marked　the　entrance　to　the　vast　acreage　surrounding　the　Quabbin　Reservoir。　Beyond　them；　the　road　closed　down　to　what　was　essentially　a　single　lane；　and　Henry　had　a　sense　of　having　e　full　circle。　It　wasn't　Massachusetts；　but　Maine；　and　although　the　sign　said　Quabbin　Access；　it　was　really　the　Deep　Cut　Road　all　over　again；　He　actually　found　himself　looking　up　at　the　leaden　sky；　half…expecting　to　see　the　dancing　lights。　What　he　saw　instead　was　a　bald　eagle；　soaring　almost　close　enough　to　touch。　It　landed　on　the　lower　branch　of　a　pine　tree　and　watched　them　go　by。
　　　　Duddits　raised　his　head　from　where　it　had　lain　against　the　cool　glass　and　said；　'Isser　Ay　walkin　now。'
　　　　Henry's　heart　leaped。　'Owen；　did　you　hear？'
　　　　'I　heard；'　Owen　said；　and　pressed　the　Humvee　a　little　harder。　The　wet　snow　beneath　them　was　as　treacherous　as　ice；　and　with　the　state　roads　behind　them；　there　was　now　only　a　single　set　of　tracks　leading　north　toward　the　Reservoir。
　　　　We'll　be　leaving　our　own　set；　Henry　thought。　If　Kurtz　gets　this　far；　he　won't　need　telepathy。
　　　　Duddits　groaned；　clutched　his　middle；　and　shivered　all　over。　'Ennie；　I　sick。　Duddits　sick。'
　　　　Henry　brushed　Duddits's　hairless　brow；　not　liking　the　heat　of　the　skin。　What　came　next？　Seizures；　probably。　A　big　one　might　take　Duds　off　in　a　hurry；　given　his　weakened　condition；　and　God　knew　that　might　be　a　mercy。　The　best　thing。　Still；　it　hurt　to　think　of　it。　Henry　Devlin；　the　potential　suicide。　And　instead　of　him；　the　darkness　had　swallowed　his　friends；　one　by　one。
　　　　'You　hang　in　there；　Duds。　Almost　done　now。'　But　he　had　an　idea　the　toughest　part　might　still　be　ahead。
　　　　Duddits's　eyes　opened　again。　'Isser　Ay　…　ot　tuck。'
　　　　'What？'　Owen　asked。　'I　didn't　get　that　one。'
　　　　'He　says　Mr　Gray　got　stuck；'　Henry　said；　still　brushing　Duddit's　brow。　Wishing　there　was　hair　to　brush；　and　remembering　when　there　had　been。　Duddits's　fine　blond　hair。　His　crying　had　hurt　them；　had　chopped　into　their　heads　like　a　dull　blade；　but　how　happy　his　laughter　had　made　them　…　you　heard　Duddits　Cavell　laugh　and　for　a　little　while　you　believed　the　old　lies　again：　that　life　was　good；　that　the　lives　of　boys　and　men；　girls　and　women；　had　some　purpose。　That　there　was　light　as　well　as　darkness。
　　　　'Why　doesn't　he　just　throw　the　goddam　dog　into　the　Reservoir？'　Owen　asked。　His　voice　cracked　with　weariness。　'Why　does　he　feel　he　has　to　go　all　the　way　to　this　Shaft　12？　Is　it　just　because　the　Russian　woman　did？'
　　　　'I　don't　think　the　Reservoir　is　sure　enough　for　him；'　Henry　said。　'The　Standpipe　would　have　been　good；　but　the　aqueduct　is　even　better。　It's　an　intestine　sixty…five　miles　long。　And　Shaft　12　is　the　throat。　Duddits；　can　we　catch　him？'
　　　　Duddits　looked　at　him　from　his　exhausted　eyes；　then　shook　his　head。　Owen　pounded　his　own　thigh　in　frustration。　Duddits　wet　his　lips。　Spoke　two　words　in　a　hoarse　near…whisper。　Owen　heard　them　but　couldn't　make　them　out。
　　　　'What？　What　did　he　say？'
　　　　〃'Only　Jonesy。〃'
　　　　'What　does　that　mean？　Only　Jonesy　what？'
　　　　'Only　Jonesy　can　stop　him；　I　guess。'
　　　　The　Hummer　skidded　again　and　Henry　grabbed　hold　of　the　seat。　A　cold　hand　closed　over　his；　Duddits　was　looking　at　him　with　desperate　intensity。　He　tri