sk.thewastelands-第72部分

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d　the　corner；　a　crowd　was　babbling　excitedly。
　　〃Don't　stop！〃　Susannah　snapped。　〃We　haven't　got　time　to…〃
　　A　hysterical　shriek　drilled　through　the　babble。　It　was　acpanied　by　yells　of　approval；　and；　incredibly；　the　sort　of　applause　Eddie　had　heard　in　Atlantic　City　hotel…casinos　after　some　lounge　act　had　finished　doing　its　thing。　The　shriek　was　choked　into　a　long；　dying　gargle　that　sounded　like　the　buzz　of　a　cicada。　Eddie　felt　the　hair　on　the　nape　of　his　neck　ing　to　attention。　He　glanced　at　the　corpses　hanging　from　the　nearest　speaker…pole　and　understood　that　the　fun…loving　Pubes　of　Lud　were　hold…ing　another　public　execution。
　　Marvellous；　he　thought。　Now　if　they　only　had　Tony　Orlando　and　Dawn　to　sing　〃Knock　Three　Times；〃　they　could　all　die　happy。
　　Eddie　looked　curiously　at　the　stone　pile　on　the　corner。　This　close；　the　vines　which　overgrew　it　had　a　powerful　herbal　smell。　That　smell　was　eye…wateringly　bitter；　but　he　still　liked　it　better　than　the　cinnamon…sweet　odor　of　the　mummified　corpses。　The　beards　of　greenery　growing　from　the　vines　drooped　in　ratty　sheaves；　creating　waterfalls　of　vegetation　where　once　there　had　been　a　series　of　arched　entrances。　A　figure　suddenly　barrelled　out　through　one　of　these　waterfalls　and　hurried　toward　them。　It　was　a　kid；　Eddie　realized；　and　not　that　many　years　out　of　diapers；　judging　by　the　size。　He　was　wearing　a　weird　little　Lord　Fauntleroy　outfit；　plete　with　ruffled　white　shirt　and　velveteen　short　pants。　There　were　ribbons　in　his　hair。　Eddie　felt　a　sudden　mad　urge　to　wave　his　hands　above　his　head　and　scream　But…wheat　say；　〃Lud　is　o…tay！〃
　　〃e　on！〃　the　kid　cried　in　a　high；　piping　voice。　Several　sprays　of　the　green　stuff　had　gotten　caught　in　his　hair；　he　brushed　absently　at　these　with　his　left　hand　as　he　ran。　〃They're　gonna　do　Spankers！　It's　the　Spankerman's　turn　to　go　to　the　land　of　the　drums！　e　on　or　you'll　miss　the　whole　fakement；　gods　cuss　it！〃
　　Susannah　was　equally　stunned　by　the　child's　appearance；　but　as　he　got　closer；　it　struck　her　that　there　was　something　extremely　odd　and　awkward　about　the　way　he　was　brushing　at　the　crumbles　and　strands　of　greenery　which　had　gotten　caught　in　his　beribboned　hair：　he　kept　using　just　that　one　hand。　His　other　had　been　behind　his　back　when　he　ran　out　through　the　weedy　waterfall；　and　there　it　remained。
　　How　awkward　that　must　be！　she　thought；　and　then　a　tape…player　turned　on　in　her　mind　and　she　heard　Roland　speaking　at　the　end　of　the　bridge。　I　knew　something　like　this　could　happen　。　。　。　if　we'd　seen　the　fellow　earlier；　while　we　were　still　beyond　the　range　of　his　exploding　egg　。　。　。　Damn　the　luck！
　　She　levelled　Roland's　gun　at　the　child；　who　had　leaped　from　the　curb　and　was　running　straight　for　them。　〃Hold　it！〃　she　screamed。　〃Stand　still；　you！〃
　　〃Suze；　what　are　you　doing？〃　Eddie　yelled。
　　Susannah　ignored　him。　In　a　very　real　sense；　Susannah　Dean　was　no　longer　even　here；　it　was　Detta　Walker　in　the　chair　now；　and　her　eyes　were　glittering　with　feverish　suspicion。　〃Stop　or　I'll　shoot！〃
　　Little　Lord　Fauntleroy　might　have　been　deaf　for　all　the　effect　her　warning　had。　〃Hoss　it！〃　he　shouted　jubilantly。　〃Yer　gointer　miss　the　whole　show！　Spanker's　gointer…〃
　　His　right　hand　finally　began　to　e　out　from　behind　his　back。　As　it　did；　Eddie　realized　they　weren't　looking　at　a　kid　but　at　a　misshapen　dwarf　whose　childhood　was　many　years　past。　The　expression　Eddie　had　at　first　taken　for　childish　glee　was　actually　a　chilly　mixture　of　hate　and　rage。　The　dwarf's　cheeks　and　brow　were　covered　with　the　oozing；　discol…ored　patches　Roland　called　whore's　blossoms。
　　Susannah　never　saw　his　face。　Her　attention　was　fixed　on　the　emerg…ing　right　hand；　and　the　dull　green　sphere　it　held。　That　was　all　she　needed　to　see。　Roland's　gun　crashed。　The　dwarf　was　hammered　backward。　A　shrill　cry　of　pain　and　rage　rose　from　his　tiny　mouth　as　he　landed　on　the　sidewalk。　The　grenade　bounced　out　of　his　hand　and　rolled　back　into　the　same　arch　through　which　he　had　emerged。
　　Detta　was　gone　like　a　dream；　and　Susannah　looked　from　the　smoking　gun　to　the　tiny；　sprawled　figure　on　the　sidewalk　with　surprise；　horror；　and　dismay。　〃Oh；　my　Jesus！　I　shot　him！　Eddie；　I　shot　him！〃
　　〃Grays　。　。　。　die！〃
　　Little　Lord　Fauntleroy　tried　to　scream　these　words　defiantly；　but　they　came　out　in　a　bubbling　choke　of　blood　that　drenched　the　few　remaining　white　patches　on　his　frilly　shirt。　There　was　a　muffled　explosion　from　inside　the　overgrown　plaza　of　the　corner　building；　and　the　shaggy　carpets　of　green　stuff　hanging　in　front　of　the　arches　billowed　outward　like　flags　in　a　brisk　gale。　With　them　came　clouds　of　choking；　acrid　smoke。　Eddie　flung　himself　on　top　of　Susannah　to　shield　her；　and　felt　a　gritty　shower　of　concrete　fragments…all　small　ones；　luckily…patter　down　on　his　back；　his　neck；　and　the　crown　of　his　head。　There　was　a　series　of　unpleasantly　wet　smacking　sounds　to　his　left。　He　opened　his　eyes　a　crack；　looked　in　that　direction；　and　saw　Little　Lord　Fauntleroy's　head　just　…ing　to　a　stop　in　the　gutter。　The　dwarf's　eyes　were　still　open；　his　mouth　still　fixed　in　its　final　snarl。
　　Now　there　were　other　voices；　some　shrieking；　some　yelling；　all　furi…ous。　Eddie　rolled　off　Susannah's　chair…it　tottered　on　one　wheel　before　deciding　to　stay　up…and　stared　in　the　direction　from　which　the　dwarf　had　e。　A　ragged　mob　of　about　twenty　men　and　women　had　appeared；　some　ing　from　around　the　corner；　others　pushing　through　the　mats　of　foliage　which　obscured　the　corner　building's　arches；　materializing　from　the　smoke　of　the　dwarf's　grenade　like　evil　spirits。　Most　were　wearing　blue　headscarves　and　all　were　carrying　weapons…a　varied　（and　somehow　pitiful）　assortment　of　them　which　included　rusty　swords；　dull　knives；　and　splintery　clubs。　Eddie　saw　one　man　defiantly　waving　a　hammer。　Pubes；　Eddie　thought。　We　interrupted　their　necktie　party；　and　they're　pissed　as　hell　about　it。
　　A　tangle　of　shouts…Kill　the　Grays！　Kill　them　both！　They've　done　for　Luster；　God　kill　their　eyes！…arose　from　this　charming　group　as　they　caught　sight　of　Susannah　in　her　wheelchair　and　Eddie；　who　was　now　crouched　on　one　knee　before　it。　The　man　in　the　forefront　was　wearing　a　kilt…like　wrap　and　waving　a　cutlass。　He　brandished　this　wildly　（he　would　have　decapitated　the　heavyset　woman　standing　close　behind　him；　had　she　not　ducked）　and　then　charged。　The　others　followed；　yelling　happily。
　　Roland's　gun　pounded　its　bright　thunder　into　the　windy；　overcast　day；　and　the　top　of　the　kilt…wearing　Pube's　head　lifted　off。　The　sallow　skin　of　the　woman　who　had　almost　been　decapitated　by　his　cutlass　was　suddenly　stippled　with　red　rain　and　she　voiced　a　sound　of　barking　dismay。　The　others　came　on　past　the　woman　and　the　dead　man；　raving　and　wild…eyed。
　　〃Eddie！〃　Susannah　screamed；　and　fired　again。　A　man　wearing　a　silk…lined　cape　and　knee…boots　collapsed　into　the　street。
　　Eddie　groped　for　the'　Ruger　and　had　one　panicky　moment　when　he　thought　he　had　lost　it。　The　butt　of　the　gun　had　somehow　slipped　down　inside　the　waistband　of　his　pants。　He　wrapped　his　hand　around　it　and　yanked　hard。　The　fucking　thing　wouldn't　e。　The　sight　at　the　end　of　the　barrel　had　somehow　gotten　stuck　in　his　underwear。
　　Susannah　fired　three　closely　spaced　shots。　Each　found　a　target；　but　the　oning　Pubes　didn't　slow。
　　〃Eddie；　help　me！〃
　　Eddie　tore　his　pants　open；　feeling　like　some　cut…rate　version　of　Superman；　and　finally　managed　to　free　the　Ruger。　He　hit　the　safety　with　the　heel　of　his　left　palm；　placed　his　elbow　on　his　leg　just　above　the　knee；　and　began　to　fire。　There　was　no　need　to　think…no　need　to　even　aim。　Roland　had　told　them　that　in　battle　a　gunslinger's　hands　worked　on　their　own；　and　Eddie　now　discovered　it　was　true。　It　would　have　been　hard　for　a　blind　man　to　miss　at　this　range；　anyway。　Susannah　had　cut　the　numbers　of　the　charging　Pubes　to　no　more　than　fifteen；　Eddie　went　through　the　remainder　like　a　storm　wind　in　a　wheatfield；　dropping　four　in　less　than　two　seconds。
　　Now　the　single　face　of　the　mob；　that　look　of　glazed　and　mindless　eagerness；　began　to　break　apart。　The　man　with　the　hammer　abruptly　tossed　his　weapon　aside　and　ran　for　it；　limping　extravagantly　on　a　pair　of　arthritis…twisted　legs。　He　was　followed　by　two　others。　The　rest　of　them　milled　uncertainly　in　the　street。
　　〃e　on；　you　deucies！〃　a　relatively　young　man　snarled。　He　wore　his　blue　scarf　around　his　throat　like　a　rally…racer's　ascot。　He　was　bald　except　for　two　fluffs　of　frizzy　red　hair；　one　on　each　side　of　his　head。　To　Susannah；　this　fellow　looked　like　Clarabell　the　Clown；　to　Eddie　he　looked　like　Ronald　McDonald；　to　both　of　them　he　looked　like　trouble。　He　threw　a　home…made　spear　that　might　have　started　life　as　a　steel　tableleg。　It　clattered　harmlessly　into　the　street　to　Eddie　and　Susannah's　right。　〃e　on；　I　say！　We　can　get　em　if　we　all　stick　togeth…〃
　　〃Sorry；　guy；〃　Eddie　murmured；　and　shot　him　in　the　chest。
　　Clarabell/Ronald　staggered　backward；　one　hand　going　to　his　shirt。
　　He　stared　at　Eddie　with　huge　eyes　that　told　his　tale　with　heartbreaking　clarity：　this　wasn't　supposed　to　happen。　The　hand　dropped　heavily　to　the　young　man's　side。　A　single　runlet　of　blood；　incredibly　bright　in　the　gray　day；　slipped　from　the　er　of　his　mouth。　The　few　remaining　Pubes　stared　at　him　mutely　as　he　slipped　to　his　knees；　and　one　of　them　turned　to　run。
　　〃Not　at　all；〃　Eddie　said。　〃Stay　put；　my　retarded　friend；　or　you're　going　to　get　a　good　look　at　the　clearing　where　your　path　ends。〃　He　raised　his　voice。　〃Drop　em；　boys　and　girls！　All　of　em！　Now！〃
　　〃You　。。。〃　the　dying　man　whispered。　〃You　。　。　。　gunslinger？〃
　　〃That's　right；〃　Eddie　said。　His　eyes　surveyed　the　remaining　Pubes　grimly。
　　〃Cry　your　。　。　。　pardon；〃　the　man　with　the　frizzy　red　hair　gasped；　and　then　he　fell　forward　onto　his　face。
　　〃Gunslingers？〃　one　of　the　others　asked。　His　tone　was　one　of　dawning　horror　and　realization。
　　〃Well；　you're　stupid；　but　you　ain't　deaf；〃　Susannah　said；　〃and　that's　somethin；　anyway。〃　She　waggled　the　barrel　of　the　gun；　which　Eddie　was　quite　sure　was　empty。　For　that　matter；　how　many　rounds　could　be　left　in　the　Ruger？　He　realized　he　didn't　have　any　idea　how　many　rounds　the　clip　held；　and　cursed　himself　for　a　fool　。　。　。　but　had　he　really　believed　it　could　e　to　something　like　this？　He　didn't　think　so。　〃You　heard　him；　folks。　Dro