dk.intensity-第16部分

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at　he　would　find　her　if　she　remained　where　she　was。
　She　crawled　out　from　under　the　motor　home；　rose　into　a　crouch；　glanced　at　the　open　door；　and　then　looked　back　and　up　at　the　windows　along　the　side。　The　curtains　were　closed。
　Emboldened；　she　got　to　her　feet；　crossed　to　the　inner　service　island；　and　stepped　between　the　pumps。　She　glanced　back；　but　the　killer　remained　inside　the　vehicle。
　She　went　out　of　the　night　into　bright　fluorescent　light　and　the　twang　of　country　music。　Two　employees　were　behind　the　counter　on　the　right；　and　she　intended　to　say　Call　the　police；　but　then　she　glanced　through　the　glass　door　that　had　just　closed　behind　her；　and　she　saw　the　killer　getting　out　of　the　motor　home　and　ing　toward　the　store；　even　though　he　hadn't　finished　filling　the　fuel　tank。
　He　was　looking　down。　He　hadn't　seen　her。　She　moved　away　from　the　door。　The　two　men　stared　at　her　expectantly。　If　she　told　them　to　call　the　police；　they　would　want　to　know　why；　and　there　was　no　time　for　a　discussion；　not　even　enough　time　for　the　telephone　call。　Instead；　she　said；　〃Please　don't　let　him　know　I'm　here；〃　and　before　they　could　reply；　she　walked　away　from　them；　along　an　aisle　with　goods　shelved　six　feet　high　on　both　sides；　to　the　far　end　of　the　store。
　As　she　stepped　out　of　the　aisle　to　hide　at　the　end　of　a　row　of　display　cases；　Chyna　heard　the　door　open　and　the　killer　enter。　A　growl　of　wind　came　with　him；　and　then　the　door　swung　shut。
　The　redheaded　cashier　and　the　young　Asian　gentleman　with　the　liquid…night　eyes　are　staring　at　him　strangely；　as　if　they　know　something　they　shouldn't；　and　he　almost　pulls　the　shotgun　from　under　his　coat　the　moment　that　he　walks　through　the　door；　almost　blows　them　away　without　preamble。　But　he　tells　himself　that　he　is　misreading　them；　that　they　are　merely　intrigued　by　him；　because　he　is；　after　all；　a　striking　figure。　Often　people　sense　his　exceptional　power　and　are　aware　that　he　lives　a　larger　life　than　they　do。　He　is　a　popular　man　at　parties；　and　women　are　frequently　attracted　to　him。　These　men　are　merely　drawn　to　him　as　are　so　many　others。　Besides；　if　he　whacks　them　immediately；　without　a　word；　he　will　be　denying　himself　the　pleasure　of　foreplay。
　Alanjackson　is　no　longer　singing　on　the　radio；　and　cocking　one　ear　appreciatively；　Vess　says；　〃Man；　I　like　that　Emmylou　Harris；　don't　you？　Was　there　ever　anyone　could　sing　this　stuff　so　it　got　to　you　that　way？〃
　〃She's　good；〃　says　the　redhead。　Previously　he　was　outgoing。　Now　he　seems　reserved。
　The　Asian　says　nothing；　inscrutable　in　this　Zen　temple　of　Twinkies；　Hershey　bars；　beer　nuts；　snack　crackers；　and　Doritos。
　〃I　love　a　song　about　home　fires　and　family；〃　Vess　says。
　〃You　on　vacation？〃　asks　the　redhead。　〃Hell；　friend；　I'm　always　on　vacation。〃
　〃Too　young　to　be　retired。〃
　〃I　mean；〃　says　Vess；　〃life　itself　is　a　vacation　if　you　look　at　it　the　right　way。　Been　doing　some　hunting。〃
　〃Around　these　parts？　What　game's　in　season？〃　the　redhead　asks。
　The　Asian　remains　silent　but　attentive。　He　takes　a　SlimJim　sausage　off　a　display　rack　and　skins　open　the　plastic　wrapper　without　letting　his　gaze　flicker　from　Vess。
　They　don't　suspect　for　a　second　that　they're　both　going　to　be　dead　in　a　minute；　and　their　cow…stupid　lack　of　awareness　delights　Vess。　It　is　quite　funny；　really。　How　dramatically　their　eyes　will　widen　in　the　instant　that　the　shotgun　roars。
　Instead　of　answering　the　cashier's　question；　Vess　says；　〃Are　you　a　hunter？〃
　〃Fishing's　my　sport；〃　the　redhead　says。
　〃Never　cared　for　it；〃　says　Vess。
　〃Great　way　to　get　in　touch　with　nature…little　boat　on　the　lake；　peaceful　water。〃
　Vess　shakes　his　head。　〃You　can't　see　anything　in　their　eyes。〃
　The　redhead　blinks；　confused。　〃In　whose　eyes？〃
　〃I　mean；　they're　just　fish。　They　just　have　these　flat；　glassy　eyes。　Jesus。〃
　〃Well；　I　never　said　they're　pretty。　But　nothing　tastes　better　than　your　own…caught　salmon　or　a　mess　of　trout。〃
　Edgler　Vess　listens　to　the　music　for　a　moment；　letting　the　two　men　watch　him。　The　song　genuinely　affects　him。　He　feels　the　piercing　loneliness　of　the　road；　the　longing　of　a　lover　far　from　home。　He　is　a　sensitive　man。
　The　Asian　bites　off　a　piece　of　the　Slim　Jim。　He　chews　daintily；　his　jaw　muscles　hardly　moving。
　Vess　decides　that　he　will　take　the　unfinished　sausage　back　to　Ariel。　She　can　put　her　mouth　where　the　Asian　had　his。　This　intimacy　with　the　beautiful　young　man　will　be　Vess's　gift　to　the　girl。
　He　says；　〃Sure　will　be　glad　to　get　home　to　my　Ariel。　Isn't　that　a　pretty　name？〃
　〃Sure　is；〃　says　the　redhead。
　〃Fits　her　too。〃
　〃She　the　missus？〃　asks　the　redhead。　His　friendliness　is　not　as　natural　as　when　Vess　spoke　with　him　about　turning　on　pump　number　seven。　He　is　definitely　unfortable　and　trying　not　to　show　it。
　Time　to　startle　them；　see　how　they　react。　Will　either　of　them　begin　to　realize　just　how　much　trouble　is　ing？
　〃Nope；〃　Vess　says。　〃No　ball　and　chain　for　me。　Maybe　one　day。　Anyway；　Ariel's　only　sixteen；　not　ready　yet。〃
　They　are　not　sure　what　to　say。　Sixteen　is　half　his　age。　Sixteen　is　still　a　child。　Jailbait。
　The　risk　he's　taking　is　enormous　and　titillating。　Another　customer　might　pull　off　the　highway　at　any　moment；　raising　the　stakes。
　〃Prettiest　thing　you'll　ever　see　this　side　of　paradise；〃　says　Vess；　and　he　licks　his　lips。　〃Ariel；　I　mean。〃
　He　takes　the　Polaroid　snapshot　from　his　coat　pocket　and　drops　it　onto　the　counter。　The　clerks　stare　at　it。　
　〃She's　pure　angel；〃　says　Vess。　〃Porcelain　skin。　Breathtaking。　Makes　your　scrotum　twang　like　a　bass　fiddle。〃
　With　barely　disguised　distaste；　the　cashier　looks　at　the　pumpmonitor　board　to　the　left　of　the　cash　register　and　says；　〃Your　sixty　bucks　just　finished　going　in　the　tank。〃
　Vess　says；　〃Don't　get　me　wrong。　I　never　touched　her…that　way。　She's　been　locked　in　the　basement　the　past　year；　where　I　can　look　at　her　anytime　I　want　to。　Waiting　for　my　little　doll　to　ripen；　get　just　a　little　sweeter。〃
　As　glassy…eyed　as　fish；　they　gaze　at　him。　He　relishes　their　expressions。
　Then　he　smiles；　laughs；　and　says；　〃Hey；　had　you　going　there；　didn't　you？〃
　Neither　man　smiles　back　at　him；　and　the　redhead　says　tightly；　〃You　still　going　to　make　some　other　purchases；　or　do　you　just　want　your　change？〃
　Vess　puts　on　his　most　sincere　face。　He　can　almost　manage　a　blush。
　〃Listen；　sorry　if　I　offended。　I'm　a　joker。　Can't　help　puttin'　people　on。〃
　〃Well；〃　says　the　redhead；　〃I　have　a　sixteen…year…old　daughter；　so　I　don't　see　what's　funny。〃
　Speaking　to　the　Asian；　Vess　says；　〃When　I　go　hunting；　I　take　trophies。　You　know…like　a　matador　gets　the　bull's　tail　and　ears？　Sometimes　it's　just　a　picture。　Gifts　for　Ariel。　She'll　really　like　you。〃
　As　he　speaks；　he　raises　the　Mossberg；　draped　with　the　raincoat　as　if　with　black　funeral　bunting；　seizes　it　in　both　hands；　blows　the　redheaded　cashier　off　his　stool；　and　pumps　another　shell　into　the　breech。
　The　Asian。　Oh；　how　his　eyes　widen。　The　expression　in　them　is　like　nothing　ever　to　be　seen　in　the　eyes　of　fish。
　Even　as　the　redhead　crashes　to　the　floor；　this　young　Asian　gentleman　with　the　fabulous　eyes　has　one　hand　under　the　counter；　going　for　a　weapon。
　Vess　says；　〃Don't；　or　I'll　shove　the　bullets　up　your　ass。〃
　But　the　Asian　brings　up　the　revolver　anyway；　a　Smith　&　Wesson　38　Chief's　Special；　so　Vess　thrusts　the　shotgun　across　the　counter　and　fires　point…blank　at　his　chest；　loath　to　mess　up　that　perfect　face。　The　young　man　is　airborne　off　the　stool；　the　revolver　spinning　from　his　hand　even　before　he　has　a　chance　to　squeeze　off　one　round。
　The　redhead　is　screaming。　Vess　walks　to　the　gate　in　the　counter　and　passes　through　to　the　work　area。
　The　redheaded　cashier　with　the　sixteen…year…old　daughter　waiting　at　home　is　curled　as　if　imitating　the　fetus…like　pink　birthmark　on　his　forehead；　hugging　himself；　holding　himself　together。　On　the　radio；　Garth　Brooks　sings　〃Thunder　Rolls。〃　Now　the　cashier　is　screaming　and　crying　at　the　same　time。　The　screams　reverberate　in　the　plateglass　windows；　and　the　echo　of　the　shotgun　still　roars　in　Vess's　ears；　and　a　new　customer　could　walk　into　the　store　at　any　second。　The　moment　is　achingly　intense。
　One　more　round　finishes　the　cashier。
　The　Asian　is　unconscious　and　going　fast。　Happily；　his　face　is　unmarked。
　Like　a　pilgrim　genuflecting　before　a　shrine；　Vess　drops　onto　one　knee　as　a　final　gasp　rattles　from　the　dying　young　man。　A　sound　like　the　brittle　flutter　of　insect　wings。　He　leans　close　to　inhale　the　other's　exhalation；　breathes　deeply。　Now　small　measures　of　the　Asian's　grace　and　beauty　are　a　part　of　him；　conveyed　on　the　scent　of　the　Slim　Jim。
　The　Brooks　song　is　followed　by　that　old　Johnny　Cash　number　〃A　Boy　Named　Sue；〃　which　is　silly　enough　to　spoil　the　mood。　Vess　turns　off　the　radio。
　As　he　reloads；　he　surveys　the　area　behind　the　counter　and　spots　a　row　of　wall　switches。　They　are　labeled　with　the　locations　of　the　lights　that　they　control。　He　shuts　down　all　the　exterior　lighting；　including　the　OPEN　24　HOURS　of　red　neon　on　the　roof　When　he　also　switches　off　the　fluorescent　ceiling　panels；　the　store　is　not　plunged　into　total　darkness。　The　display　lights　in　the　long　row　of　coolers　glow　eerily　behind　the　insulated　glass　doors。　A　lighted　clock　advertising　Coors　beer　hangs　on　one　wall；　and　at　the　counter；　a　gooseneck　lamp　illuminates　the　papers　on　which　the　Asian　gentleman　was　working。
　Nevertheless；　the　shadows　are　deep；　and　the　place　appears　to　be　closed。　It's　unlikely　that　a　customer　will　pull　in　from　the　highway。
　Of　course　a　county　sheriffs　deputy　or　highway　patrol　officer；　curious　about　why　this　establishment　that　never　closes　is；　in　fact；　suddenly　closed；　might　investigate。　Consequently；　Vess　doesn't　dawdle　over　the　tasks　that　remain。
　Huddled　with　her　back　against　the　end　panel　of　the　shelves；　as　far　as　she　could　get　from　the　cashiers'　counter；　Chyna　felt　exposed　by　the　display…case　light　to　her　right　and　threatened　by　the　shadows　to　her　left。　In　the　silence　following　the　gunfire　and　the　cessation　of　the　music；　she　became　convinced　that　the　killer　could　hear　her　ragged；　shuddery　breathing。　But　she　couldn't　quiet　herself；　and　she　couldn't　stop　shaking　any　more　than　a　rabbit　could　cease　shivering　in　the　shadow　of　a　wolf。
　Maybe　the　rumble　of　the　pressors　for　the　coolers　and　freezers　would　provide　enough　c