gns.throwback-第41部分
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For some reason the dogs had left。 They had fought and feasted on human carrion； satisfied their hunger。 Bee bored。 It didn't matter why they had left； just that they had。
Jackie sat there staring about her； noticed for the first time that it was snowing； odd patches of open ground beneath the trees already sprinkled with a soft white covering。 She shook herself； sat up； still listening in case the dogs were close by but there was no sound。 An empty forest； devoid of all life except that buzzard still perched in the tree。
She tried to stand but her legs were weak and she fell； crawled a few yards away from the scene of the bloody carnage。 She couldn't stop here； the animals might e back or else others scenting death might appear。 She had resigned herself to dying but instead she lived and now she had the will to fight again。
After some time she found she could stand； walk a few paces； holding on to low branches to support herself。 It was bitterly cold and she was hungry； thirsty。 Also she was a fugitive。 Those who hunted her would not have given up the trail。
She followed a well…trodden path through the trees。 The thick overhead evergreen foliage was preventing the ground from being covered with snow and it made travelling easier。 All the same she could not remain in the forest。 She had to keep moving。
It was midday when she finally emerged from the big wood； stood and looked across at snow…covered hills and valleys。 It was still snowing lightly but the clouds to the west were breaking up。 She knew that she had to find food and shelter before nightfall。
She headed across the ridge of hills； wary； hiding in the bushes whenever she spied other people。 Once a group of five men and a woman passed within yards of her。 The men were struggling to support the woman； two of them carrying her a few yards； setting her down to rest。 She was coughing badly； her breath wheezing and rasping its way out of her lungs。 A conference between the other three men； they were worried and Jackie thought that they looked ill； too。 Eventually they moved on and once they were out of sight Jackie continued on her way。 But overall she sensed that something was dreadfully wrong。
Some time later her foot caught against something； almost caused her to fall。 With a start she saw that it was the body of a man that the snow had covered。 She saw his face； stepped back in horror。 Sunken eyes； the flesh blotched as though some disease had ravaged him； a trickle of dried blood from the open mouth。
Death was mon enough； she had e to accept it as an everyday occurrence but there was something about this corpse that alarmed her。 Had he been savaged by wild animals or mutilated by the fierce roving tribes then she would hardly have given him a second glance。 But he had died from some inexplicable cause that had left its own mark on him； he reminded her of that woman she had seen earlier； the emaciation； the sheer hopelessness in the features。 And it frightened her。
Jackie's body was warmer now but shelter and food were priorities。 She remembered the fort of the Winder farmhouse； foreign to her instincts then but she needed such a place now。 And when she spied the stone cottage set back against the side of the hill below her she knew that that was where she must take refuge。 She would be warm and safe in there； she had learned that certain packages and jars contained nourishing food and； above all； the tribes mostly avoided these strange dwelling…places。
She approached the cottage cautiously。 A small tumbledown stone…built two…up； two…down that had fallen into a state of disrepair； the covering of snow hiding most of its structural faults。 Window frames had rotted； a couple of broken panes had been repaired with brown tape。 Several slates were missing off the roof and jackdaws had chipped most of the mortar out of the chimney stack。 The garden gate had e off its hinges； was lying on its side。
Jackie took a direct course for the front door； it was locked。 Following the wall； she peeped in at the first window she came to。 The usual furniture she had e to accept； a couple of easy chairs； a sofa and a table。 A fireplace with just crumpled newspapers in the grate。 A table was strewn with sheets of paper and some kind of squat machine which she did not recognise； she had never seen a typewriter before。 She moved on； skirted a lean…to； came to the back door。 It was open an inch or two so that it creaked in the wind and the snow slanted in。
She pushed it wide； stepped over the threshold。 A wave of dizziness passed over her and she flung herself on to the sofa。 Sheer bliss； rolling back； stretching out。 She would rest awhile and then she would find something to eat and drink。 Outside the snow was thickening； beginning to plaster the windows； darkening the rooms。
In her dreams Jackie saw that man again。 He was in the same room as her but somehow he always succeeded in keeping his back to her。 Occasionally she glimpsed his profile but it was always in shadow。
And when finally he came to her the light was gone and she could not see him； only feel him。 Strong smooth flesh that rubbed against her own； kissing her passionately and thrusting his tongue into her mouth。 Sensuous fingertips doing things to her that Kuz had never done。 Dominant yet gentle； loving her。
She sobbed aloud when finally he rolled in between her legs and even then he took his time entering her。 She soared； drifted along in an ecstatic flight。 And still she did not see his face clearly。 She clung to him； tried to stop him leaving her； determined to go wherever he went。 But； as usual； he slipped from her grasp and then he was gone into the shadows of her mind； leaving only a dim memory behind。 But he would e again surely； he always did。 And next time 。 。 。
Jackie was vaguely aware that she was not alone in the room； her senses picking up movements； conscious of them even as she slept。 Stirring； trying to recollect。 He had e back！ Her pulses raced but she did not open her eyes immediately because she would not see him clearly。 He would be standing in a shadowy corner or else looking out of the window with his back to her。
Her sleep receded and now every sense was alert。 Positive movements； footsteps； he was attending to some chore or other。 Perhaps if she squinted through half…closed eyes she would surprise him； catch him unawares before he had a chance to hide his features from her again。
She trembled； tensed； experienced a sense of guilt。 She was not meant to see and yet she was determined。 Candlelight； she had slept longer than she had thought and it was already dark outside。 Her slitted eyes followed the wan circle of yellow light…saw him！
She suppressed a groan of disappointment； he had his back to her as usual； was kneeling before the fireplace with an armful of kindling wood； laying sticks on the newspaper。 He wore a blue anorak and the hood was still pulled up； the wet snow on it melting and dripping on to the floor。 Muddy Wellington boots had left a trail of footprints from the back door。
A matchbox rattled； a rasping noise； and a bright flame was applied to the paper； hungrily devouring it； the sticks crackling and hissing； A puff of smoke billowed back； made him cough。 A fit of coupling； a handkerchief clutched to his mouth。 A sound that frightened Jackie because it was reminiscent of that woman's coughing earlier。
Her alarm blended into disappointment as the man。 turned away from the fire and she saw his features clearly for the first time。 It was not him。 Too old； so gaunt； no way was it the lover who haunted her dreams and fantasies。
'Hallo；' he nodded； not in the least surprised； as though he had quite expected to find her lying there on the sofa。 He pushed his hood back and she noted the receding hairline； the balding crown。 'Now that I've found some wood we can have a fire。 We'll soon get warm。'
She smiled； hoped her anguish didn't show。 She also hoped that he would not make any demands on her although she would have traded anything and everything she had to offer for food and shelter。
'Rod。' He tapped his chest； gave another deep rumbling cough。 'Rod Savage。1
'Jac。' She pointed to herself； smiled again。 They would have to overe the language barrier。 She had coped with Phil Winder。 Somehow her vocal chords were incapable of producing this new language and even when she understood certain sounds she was unable to repeat them except in a barely articulate nasal tone。
'Pleased to meet you； Jac。' Rod Savage obviously weled the opportunity to talk to somebody even if they did not understand。 Talking to oneself got exceedingly boring after several weeks。 'I expect you'd like some tea。' He took off his anorak； began opening some cans； sardines and spaghetti。 A packet of Ryvita that was no longer crisp； spread with peanut butter。 He boiled the kettle； made some tea。
Jackie ate ravenously； gave up trying to master the art of using a fork。 Her panion did not seem to notice。
She watched him carefully as she ate。 Certainly he was not well； his features shiny with sweat even though the blazing fire had not yet had a chance to warm the room。 Periodically his eyes seemed to film over； cleared again。 And always that hacking cough。
'Damned typewriter's broken。' He pushed his empty plate away。 'Carriage spring； I think。 No chance of getting it repaired and I'm not mechanically minded so I'll have to write the rest of my 〃History of the New Britain〃 in longhand。 Don't expect it will ever get published anyway because there's nobody left to publish it。' He tried to laugh； surrendered to another fit of coughing。
Jackie noticed that when the handkerchief came away from his mouth it was spottled with scarlet。
'I'm ill； y'know。' Clipped hurried speech as though he had got an awful lot to say and was afraid he would not get time to finish speaking。 'Had it a fortnight now。 Some days it's not too bad； like today； other days it's pretty chronic。 Pneumonia probably； came on when the weather cha
