dk.intensity-第62部分

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　Ariel　was　still　gazing　at　the　sky。　In　her　eyes　were　cataracts　of　moonlight　that　made　her　look　like　a　milky…eyed　corpse。
　Chilled　as　if　the　dead　moonlight　eyes　were　an　omen；　Chyna　let　go　of　her　panion's　hand　and　gently　forced　her　to　tilt　her　head　down　until　she　was　looking　at　the　gap　between　the　porch　roof　and　the　motor　home。　〃Together。　Here；　give　me　your　hand。　Be　careful　to　step　across。　It's　not　wide；　you　don't　even　have　to　jump　it；　no　strain。　But　if　you　step　into　it；　you　might　fall　through　to　the　ground；　where　the　dogs　could　get　you。　And　even　if　you　don't　fall　through；　you're　sure　to　be　hurt。〃
　Chyna　stepped　across；　but　Ariel　didn't　follow。　Turning　to　the　girl；　still　holding　her　slack　hand；　Chyna　tugged　gy；ently。　〃e　on；　baby；　let's　go；　let's　get　out　of　here。　We'll　turn　him　in　to　the　cops；　and　he'll　never　be　able　to　hurt　anybody　again；　not　ever；　not　you　or　me　or　anyone。〃
　After　a　hesitation；　Ariel　stepped　across　the　gap　onto　the　roof　of　the　motor　home…and　slipped　on　the　dew…wet　metal。　Chyna　dropped　the　mop；　grabbed　the　girl；　and　kept　her　from　falling。　〃Almost　there；　baby。〃
　She　picked　up　the　mop　again　and　led　Ariel　to　the　open　skylight；　where　she　encouraged　her　to　kneel。
　〃That's　good。　Now　wait。　Almost　there。〃
　Chyna　stretched　out　on　her　stomach；　leaned　into　the　skylight；　and　used　the　mop　to　push　the　stepstool　toward　the　back　of　the　hall　and　out　of　the　way。　Dropping　down　onto　it；　one　of　them　might　have　broken　a　leg。
　They　were　so　close　to　escape。　They　couldn't　take　any　chances。　Chyna　got　to　her　feet　and　threw　the　mop　into　the　yard。
　Bending　down；　putting　one　hand　on　the　girl's　shoulder；　she　said；　〃Okay；　now　slide　along　here　and　put　your　legs　through　the　skylight。　e　on；　honey。　Sit　on　the　edge；　watch　the　sharp　pieces　of　plastic；　yeah；　that's　it；　let　your　legs　dangle。　Okay；　now　just　drop　to　the　floor　inside；　and　then　go　forward。　Okay？　Do　you　understand？　Go　forward　toward　the　cockpit；　honey；　so　I　won't　fall　on　you　when　I　e　through。〃
　Chyna　gave　the　girl　a　gentle　push；　which　was　all　she　required。　Ariel　dropped　into　the　motor　home；　landed　on　her　feet；　stumbled　on　the　hammer　that　Chyna　had　discarded　earlier；　and　put　one　hand　against　the　wall　to　steady　herself。
　〃Go　forward；〃　Chyna　urged。
　Behind　her；　a　second…story　window　shattered　onto　the　porch　roof。　One　of　the　two　study　windows。　The　door　to　Vess's　office　had　not　been　closed；　and　the　dogs　had　gotten　into　it　from　the　upstairs　hall　after　the　bedroom　door　had　frustrated　them。
　She　turned　and　saw　a　Doberman　ing　straight　at　her　across　the　roof；　leaping　toward　her　with　such　velocity　that；　when　it　hit　her；　it　would　carry　her　off　the　top　of　the　motor　home　and　into　the　yard。
　She　twisted　aside；　but　the　dog　was　a　lot　quicker　than　she　was；　correcting　its　trajectory　even　as　it　bounded　onto　the　vehicle。　When　it　landed；　however；　it　slipped　on　the　dewy　surface；　skidded；　claws　screeching　on　the　metal；　and　to　Chyna's　astonishment；　it　tumbled　past　her；　slid　off　the　roof；　and　left　her　untouched。
　Howling；　the　dog　fell　into　the　yard；　squealed　when　it　hit　the　ground；　and　tried　to　scramble　to　its　feet。　Something　was　wrong　with　its　hindquarters。　It　couldn't　stand　up。　Perhaps　it　had　broken　its　pelvis。　It　was　in　pain　but　still　so　furious　that　it　remained　focused　on　Chyna　rather　than　itself。　The　dog　sat　barking　up　at　her；　its　hind　legs　twisted　to　one　side　at　an　unnatural　angle。
　Not　barking；　wary　and　watchful；　the　other　Doberman　also　had　e　through　the　broken　study　window　onto　the　porch　roof。　This　was　the　one　that　she'd　squirted　twice　with　ammonia；　hitting　the　muzzle　both　times；　for　even　now　it　shook　its　head　and　snorted　as　if　plagued　by　lingering　fumes。　It　had　learned　to　respect　her；　and　it　wasn't　going　to　rush　at　her　as　rashly　as　the　other　dog　had　done。
　Sooner　or　later；　of　course；　it　would　realize　that　she　no　longer　had　the　spray　bottle；　that　she　was　holding　nothing　that　might　be　used　as　a　weapon。　Then　it　would　regain　its　courage。
　What　to　do？
　She　wished　that　she　hadn't　thrown　the　sponge　mop　into　the　yard。　She　could　have　jabbed　at　the　Doberman　with　the　wooden　handle　when　it　attacked。　She　might　even　have　been　able　to　hurt　it　if　she　poked　hard　enough。　But　the　mop　was　beyond　reach。
　Think。　Instead　of　approaching　her　across　the　porch　roof；　the　Doberman　slunk　along　the　front　wall　of　the　house；　its　shoulders　hunched　and　its　head　low；　away　from　her　but　glancing　back。　It　reached　the　open　window　of　Vess's　bedroom；　and　then　it　slowly　returned；　alternately　looking　down　at　the　shards　of　moonlight…silvered　glass　among　which　it　carefully　placed　its　feet　and　glaring　at　her　from　under　its　brow。
　Chyna　tried　to　think　of　something　in　the　motor　home　that　could　be　used　as　a　weapon。　The　girl　could　pass　it　up　to　her。
　She　said　softly；　〃Ariel。〃　The　dog　halted　at　the　sound　of　her　voice。　〃Ariel。〃　But　the　girl　didn't　reply。　Hopeless。　Ariel　could　not　be　coaxed　into　action　fast　enough　to　be　of　any　help。
　When　finally　the　Doberman　attacked；　Chyna　wouldn't　be　lucky　again；　either。　This　one　would　not　hurtle　across　the　porch　roof　and　slide　off　the　motor　home　without　getting　its　teeth　in　her。　When　it　leaped　at　her；　she　would　have　nothing　to　fight　with　except　her　bare　hands。
　The　dog　stopped　pacing。　It　raised　its　tapered　black　head　and　stared　at　her；　ears　pricked；　panting。
　Chyna's　mind　raced。　She　had　never　before　been　able　to　think　quite　this　clearly　and　quickly。
　Although　loath　to　take　her　eyes　off　the　Doberman；　she　glanced　down　through　the　skylight。
　Ariel　was　not　in　the　short　hallway　below。　She'd　gone　forward　as　she'd　been　instructed。　Good　girl。
　The　dog　was　no　longer　panting。　It　stood　rigid　and　vigilant。　As　Chyna　watched；　its　ears　twitched　and　then　flattened　against　its　skull。
　Chyna　said；　〃Screw　it；〃　and　she　jumped　through　the　broken…out　skylight　into　the　motor　home。　Pain　exploded　through　her　bitten　foot。
　The　stepstool；　which　she　had　pushed　aside　with　the　sponge　mop；　was　against　the　closed　bedroom　door。　She　grabbed　it　and　dragged　it　forward；　out　from　under　the　skylight。
　Paws　thumped　on　the　metal　roof。
　Chyna　snatched　the　hammer　from　the　floor　and　slipped　the　handle　under　the　waistband　of　her　blue　jeans。　Even　through　her　red　cotton　sweater；　the　steel　head　was　cold　against　her　belly。
　The　dog　appeared　in　the　opening　above；　a　predatory　silhouette　in　the　moonlight。
　Chyna　picked　up　the　stepstool；　which　had　a　tubular　metal　handle　that　served　as　a　backrail　when　the　top　step　was　used　as　a　chair。　She　eased　backward　to　the　bathroom　door；　realizing　just　how　narrow　the　hall　was。　She　didn't　have　enough　room　to　swing　the　stool　like　a　club；　but　it　was　still　useful。　She　held　it　in　front　of　her　in　the　manner　of　a　lion　tamer　with　a　chair。
　〃e　on；　you　bastard；〃　she　said　to　the　looming　dog；　dismayed　to　hear　how　shaky　her　voice　was。　〃e　on。〃
　The　animal　hesitated　warily　at　the　brink　of　the　opening　above。　She　didn't　dare　turn　away。　The　moment　she　turned；　it　would　e　in　after　her。
　She　raised　her　voice；　shouting　angrily　at　the　Doberman；　taunting　it：　〃e　on！　What're　you　waiting　for？　What　the　hell　are　you　scared　of；　you　chickenshit？〃
　The　dog　growled。
　〃e　on；　e　on；　damn　you；　e　down　here　and　get　it！　e　and　get　it！〃
　Snarling；　the　Doberman　jumped。　The　instant　that　it　landed　in　the　hallway；　it　seemed　to　ricochet　off　the　floor　and　straight　toward　Chyna　without　any　hesitation。
　She　didn't　take　a　defensive　position。　That　would　be　death。　She　had　one　chance。　One　slim　chance。　Aggressive　action。　Go　for　it。　She　immediately　rushed　the　dog；　meeting　its　attack　head…on；　jamming　the　legs　of　the　stool　at　it　as　though　they　were　four　swords。
　The　impact　of　the　dog　rocked　her；　almost　knocked　her　down；　but　then　the　animal　rebounded　from　her；　yelping　in　pain；　perhaps　having　taken　one　of　the　stool　legs　in　an　eye　or　hard　against　the　tip　of　its　snout。
　It　tumbled　toward　the　back　of　the　short　hall。
　As　the　Doberman　sprang　to　its　feet；　it　seemed　a　little　wobbly。　Chyna　was　on　top　of　it；　jabbing　mercilessly　with　the　metal　legs　of　the　stool；　pressing　the　dog　backward；　keeping　it　off　balance　so　it　couldn't　get　around　the　stool　and　at　her　side；　or　under　the　stool　and　at　her　ankles；　or　over　the　stool　and　at　her　face。　In　spite　of　its　injuries；　the　dog　was　quick；　strong；　dear　God；　hugely　strong；　and　as　lithe　as　a　cat。　The　muscles　in　her　arms　burned　with　the　effort；　and　her　heart　hammered　so　hard　that　her　vision　brightened　then　dimmed　with　each　hard　pulse；　but　she　dared　not　relent　even　for　a　second。　When　the　stool　began　to　fold　shut；　pinching　two　of　her　fingers；　she　popped　it　open　at　once；　jabbed　the　legs　into　the　dog；　jabbed；　jabbed；　until　she　drove　the　animal　against　the　bedroom　door；　where　she　caged　it　between　that　panel　of　Masonite　and　the　legs　of　the　stool。　The　Doberman　squirmed；　snarled；　snapped　at　the　stool；　clawed　at　the　floor；　clawed　at　the　door；　kicked；　frantic　to　escape　its　trap。　It　was　Chyna's　weight　and　all　muscle；　not　containable　for　long。　She　leaned　her　body　against　the　stool；　pressing　it　into　the　dog；　then　let　go　of　the　stool　with　one　hand　so　she　could　extract　the　hammer　from　her　waistband。　She　couldn't　control　the　stool　as　well　with　one　hand　as　with　two；　and　the　dog　eeled　up　the　bedroom　door　and　came　over　the　top　of　its　cage；　straining　its　head　forward；　snapping　savagely　at　her；　its　teeth　huge；　slobber　flying　from　its　chops；　eyes　black　and　bloody　and　protuberant　with　rage。　Still　leaning　against　the　stool；　Chyna　swung　the　big　hammer。　It　struck　with　a　pock　on　bone；　and　the　dog　screamed。　Chyna　swung　the　hammer　again；　landing　a　second　blow　on　the　skull；　and　the　dog　stopped　screaming；　slumped。
　She　stepped　back。　The　stool　clattered　to　the　floor。　The　dog　was　still　breathing。　It　made　a　pitiful　sound。　Then　it　tried　to　get　up。
　She　swung　the　hammer　a　third　time。　That　was　the　end　of　it。　Breathing　raggedly；　dripping　cold　sweat；　Chyna　dropped　the　hammer　and　stumbled　into　the　bathroom。　She　threw　up　in　the　toilet；　purging　herself　of　Vess's　coffeecake。
　She　did　not　feel　triumphant。　In　her　entire　life；　she　had　never　killed　anything　larger　than　a　palmetto　beede…until　now。　Self…defense　justified　the　killing　but　didn't　make　it　easier。
　Acutely　aware　of　how　little　time　they　had　left；　she　nevertheless　paused　at　the　sink　to　splash　handfuls　of　cold　water　in　her　face　and　to　rinse　out　her　mouth。
　Her　reflection　in　the　mi