cb.damnationgame-第23部分

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　She　watched　them　with　her　mind's　eye；　mesmerized　by　their　fluent　transformations；　scarcely　aware　in　her　fascination　that　the　invisible　fingers　had　found　her　neck　again　and　were　insinuating　themselves　into　her　substance　with　all　the　subtle　efficiency　of　a　good　masseur。
　　And　then　sleep。
　　
　　She　didn't　hear　the　dogs　begin　to　bark：　Marty　did。　At　first　just　a　solitary　barking；　somewhere　off　to　the　southeast　of　the　house；　but　the　alarm　call　was　almost　immediately　taken　up　by　a　volley　of　other　voices。
　　He　got　up　boozily　from　in　front　of　the　dead　television　and　went　back　to　the　window。
　　A　wind　had　got　up。　It　had　probably　blown　some　dead　branch　down；　which　had　disturbed　the　dogs。　He'd　noticed　several　dead　elms　that　needed　felling　in　the　corner　of　the　estate；　probably　one　of　those　was　the　culprit。　Still；　he'd　better　look。　He　went　through　to　the　kitchen；　and　turned　on　the　video　screens；　flicking　from　camera　to　camera　along　the　perimeter　fence。　There　was　nothing　to　see。　As　he　flipped　to　the　cameras　just　east　of　the　woods；　however；　the　pictures　disappeared。　White　noise　replaced　the　sight　of　floodlit　grass。　Three　cameras　were　out　of　action　in　all。
　　〃Shit；〃　he　said。　If　a　tree　were　down；　and　that　became　a　likelier　option　than　ever　if　the　cameras　weren't　working；　he'd　have　a　clearing…up　job　on　his　hands。　It　was　odd　that　the　alarms　hadn't　started；　though。　Any　fall　that　had　incapacitated　three　cameras　must　have　breached　the　fence's　systems：　yet　no　bells　rang；　no　sirens　wailed。　He　took　his　anorak　off　the　hook　beside　the　back　door；　picked　up　a　flashlight；　and　went　outside。
　　The　fence　lights　glimmered　at　the　periphery　of　his　vision；　scanning　them　quickly　he　could　see　none　that　were　out。　He　set　off　toward　the　racket　of　dogs。　It　was　a　balmy　night；　despite　the　wind：　the　first　confident　warmth　of　spring。　He　was　glad　to　be　going　on　a　walkabout；　even　if　it　was　a　fool's　errand。　It　might　not　even　be　a　tree　at　all；　simply　an　electrical　fault。　Nothing　was　infallible。　The　house　fell　away　behind　him；　the　lit　windows　diminished。　Now；　all　around　him；　darkness。　He　was　isolated　for　two　hundred　yards　between　the　lights　of　the　fence　and　those　of　the　house；　a　strip　of　no…man's…land　over　which　he　stumbled；　flashlight　inefficiently　lighting　the　turf　a　few　strides　ahead　of　him。　In　the　woods；　the　wind　found　an　occasional　voice；　otherwise　there　was　silence。
　　Eventually　he　reached　the　fence　where　he　approximated　the　noise　of　the　dogs　to　have　e　from。　All　the　lights　in　either　direction　were　working：　there　was　no　visible　sign　of　disturbance。　Despite　the　reassuring　correctness　of　the　scene；　something　about　it；　about　the　night　and　the　balmy　wind；　felt　odd。　Maybe　the　dark　wasn't　so　benign　after　all；　the　warmth　in　the　air　not　entirely　natural　for　the　season。　A　tick　had　begun　in　his　stomach；　and　his　bladder　was　heavy　with　beer。　It　was　vexing　that　there　were　no　dogs　to　be　seen　or　heard。　Either　he'd　made　an　error　of　judgment　in　approximating　their　position　or　they'd　moved　from　the　spot；　pursuing。　Or；　the　absurd　thought　came；　pursued。
　　The　lamps　in　the　uprights　of　the　fence　rocked　their　hooded　heads　in　a　fresh　gust　of　wind；　the　scene　danced　giddily　in　the　pitching　light。　He　decided　he　could　go　no　further　without　relieving　his　aching　bladder。　He　turned　off　the　flashlight；　pocketed　it；　and　unzipped；　back　to　the　fence　and　the　light。　It　was　a　great　relief　to　piss　into　the　grass；　the　physical　satisfaction　made　him　whoop。
　　Halfway　through；　the　lights　behind　him　flickered。　At　first　he　thought　it　was　simply　a　trick　of　the　wind。　But　no；　they　were　actually　dimming。　Even　as　they　faded；　along　the　perimeter　to　his　right　the　dogs　began　again；　anger　and　panic　in　their　voices。
　　He　couldn't　stop　pissing　once　he'd　started；　and　for　valuable　seconds　he　cursed　his　lack　of　bladder　control。　When　he　was　done　he　zipped　up　and　started　to　run　in　the　direction　of　the　din。　As　he　went；　the　lights　came　back　on　again；　falteringly；　their　circuits　buzzing　as　they　did　so。　But　they　were　set　too　infrequently　along　the　line　of　the　fence　to　offer　much　reassurance。　Between　them；　patches　of　darkness　sprawled；　so　that　for　one　pace　out　of　every　ten　all　was　clarity；　for　the　other　nine；　night。　Despite　the　fear　clutching　at　his　gut　he　ran　all…out；　the　fence　flickering　past　him。　Light；　darkness；　light；　darknessAhead；　a　tableau　resolved　itself。　An　intruder　was　standing　on　the　far　side　of　a　light　pool　thrown　down　by　one　of　the　lamps。　The　dogs　were　everywhere；　at　his　heels；　at　his　chest；　snapping　and　tearing　at　him。　The　man　was　still　standing　upright；　legs　apart；　while　they　milled　around　him。
　　Marty　now　realized　how　close　he　was　to　witnessing　a　massacre。　The　dogs　were　berserk；　tearing　at　the　intruder　with　all　the　fury　they　could　muster。　Curiously；　despite　the　venom　in　their　attack；　their　tails　were　between　their　legs；　and　their　low　growls；　as　they　circled　looking　for　another　opening；　were　unmistakably　fearful。　Job；　he　saw；　was　not　even　attempting　to　pounce：　he　slunk　around；　his　eyes　closed　to　slits；　watching　the　heroics　of　the　rest。
　　Marty　started　calling　them　off　by　name；　using　the　strong；　simple　mands　Lillian　had　taught　him。
　　〃Stand！　Saul！　Stand！　Dido！〃　The　dogs　were　immaculately　tutored：　he'd　seen　them　put　through　these　exercises　a　dozen　times。　Now；　despite　the　intensity　of　their　anger；　they　relinquished　their　victim　when　they　heard　the　mand。　Reluctantly　they　fell　back；　ears　flattened；　teeth　exposed；　eyes　clamped　on　the　man。
　　Marty　started　to　walk　steadily　toward　the　intruder；　who　was　left　standing　in　a　ring　of　watchful　dogs；　reeling　and　bloody。　He　carried　no　visible　weapon；　indeed　he　looked　more　like　a　derelict　than　a　would…be　assassin。　His　plain　dark　jacket　was　torn　in　a　dozen　places　by　the　attack；　and　where　his　skin　was　exposed　blood　shone。
　　〃Keep　them　。　。　。　off　me；〃　he　said；　his　voice　wounded。　There　were　bites　all　over　his　body。　In　some　places；　particularly　his　legs；　pieces　of　his　flesh　had　been　ripped　away。　The　middle　finger　of　his　left　hand　had　been　bitten　through　at　the　second　joint；　and　was　depending　by　a　thread　of　sinew。　Blood　splashed　on　the　grass。　It　amazed　Marty　that　the　man　was　even　standing　upright。
　　The　dogs　still　circled　him；　ready　to　renew　the　assault　if　and　when　the　order　were　granted；　one　or　two　of　them　glanced　at　Marty　impatiently。　They　were　itching　to　finish　their　wounded　victim　off。　But　the　derelict　wouldn't　grant　them　a　sign　of　his　fear。　He　only　had　eyes　for　Marty；　and　those　eyes　were　pinpricks　in　livid　white。
　　〃Don't　move；〃　Marty　said；　〃if　you　want　to　remain　alive。　If　you　try　to　run　they'll　bring　you　down。　Do　you　understand？　I　haven't　got　that　much　control　over　them。〃　The　other　said　nothing；　simply　stared。　His　agony；　Marty　knew；　must　be　acute。　He　wasn't　even　a　young　man。　His　uneven　growth　of　stubble　showed　more　gray　than　black。　The　skull　behind　the　lax　and　waxen　flesh　was　severe；　the　features　set　on　it　used　and　weary：　tragic　even。　His　suffering　was　only　apparent　in　the　greasy　sheen　of　his　skin；　and　the　fixedness　of　his　facial　muscles。　His　stare　had　the　stillness　of　a　hurricane's　eye；　and　its　menace。
　　〃How　did　you　get　in？〃　Marty　asked。
　　〃Get　them　away；〃　the　man　said。　He　spoke　as　if　he　expected　to　be　obeyed。
　　〃e　back　to　the　house　with　me。〃　The　other　shook　his　head；　unwilling　even　to　debate　the　possibility。
　　〃Get　them　away；〃　he　said　again。
　　Marty　conceded　to　the　other's　authority；　though　not　certain　why。　He　called　the　dogs　to　him　by　name。　They　came　to　heel　with　rebuking　looks；　unhappy　to　surrender　their　prize。
　　〃Now　e　back　to　the　house；〃　Marty　said。
　　〃No　need。〃　〃You'll　bleed　to　death；　for　God's　sake。〃　〃I　loathe　dogs；〃　the　man　said；　still　not　taking　his　eyes　off　Marty。　〃We　both　do。〃　Marty　hadn't　time　to　think　clearly　about　what　the　man　was　saying；　he　just　wanted　to　stop　the　situation　from　escalating　again。　Blood　loss　had　surely　weakened　the　man。　If　he　fell　down　Marty　wasn't　certain　he　could　prevent　the　dogs　from　going　in　for　the　kill。　They　were　around　his　legs；　glancing　up　at　him　irritably；　their　breath　was　hot　on　him。
　　〃If　you　don't　e　on　your　own　accord；　I'll　take　you。〃　〃No。〃　The　intruder　raised　his　injured　hand　to　chest　height　and　glanced　down　at　it。　〃I　don't　need　your　kindnesses；　thank　you；〃　he　said。
　　He　bit　down　on　the　sinew　of　the　mutilated　finger；　as　a　seamstress　might　through　a　thread。　The　discarded　joints　fell　to　the　grass。　Then　he　clenched　his　seeping　hand　into　a　fist；　and　thrust　it　into　his　ravaged　jacket。
　　Marty　said：　〃Christ　Almighty。〃　Suddenly　the　lights　along　the　fence　were　flickering　again。　Only　this　time　they　went　out　altogether。　In　the　sudden　pitch；　Saul　whined。　Marty　knew　the　dog's　voice；　and　shared　his　apprehension。
　　〃What's　happening；　boy？〃　he　asked　the　dog；　wishing　to　God　it　could　reply。　And　then　the　dark　broke；　something　lit　the　scene　that　was　neither　electricity　nor　starlight。　The　intruder　was　the　source。　He'd　begun　to　burn　with　a　faint　luminescence。　Light　was　dripping　from　his　fingertips　and　oozing　from　the　bloody　holes　in　his　coat。　It　enveloped　his　head　in　a　flickering　gray　halo　that　consumed　neither　flesh　nor　bone；　the　light　licking　out　of　mouth　and　eyes　and　nostrils。　Now　it　began　to　take　on　shapes；　or　seemed　to。　It　was　all　seems。　Phantoms　sprang　from　the　flux　of　light。　Marty　glimpsed　dogs；　then　a　woman；　then　a　face；　all；　and　yet　perhaps　none　of　these；　a　flurry　of　apparitions　that　transformed　before　they　congealed。　And　in　the　center　of　these　momentary　phenomena　the　intruder's　eyes　stared　on　at　Marty：　clear　and　cold。
　　Then；　without　a　prehensible　cue；　the　entertainment　took　on　a　different　tone　altogether。　A　look　of　anguish　slid　across　the　fabricator's　face；　a　drool　of　bloody　darkness　spilled　from　his　eyes；　extinguishing　whatever　played　in　the　vapor；　leaving　only　bright　worms　of　fire　to　trace　his　skull。　Then　they　too　went　out；　and　just　as　suddenly　as　the　illusions　had　appeared；　they　were　gone；　and　there　was　just　a　torn　man　standing　beside　the　humming　fence。
　　The　lights　were　ing　back　on　again；　their　illumination　so　flat　it　drained　any　last　vestige　of　magic。　Marty　looked　at　the　bland　flesh；　the　empty　eyes；　the　sheer　drabness　of　the　figure　in　front　of　him　and　believed　none　of　it　〃Tell　Joseph；〃　said　the　intruder。
　　…it　had　all　been　trickery　of　some　kind…〃Tell　him　what？〃　〃That　I　was