rm.thenightboat-第36部分

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n。。。　and　he　had　helped　free　them　from　the　crypt。
　　Jana　had　to　search　to　find　her　voice。　〃What。。。　is　it。。。？〃　she　whispered；　unable　to　stop　trembling。　〃My　God。。。　my　God。。。〃
　　Moore　turned　toward　her　and　pulled　her　up　from　the　floor。　He　led　her　out　of　the　farmhouse；　keeping　his　grip　tight　on　the　butcher　knife　because　he　knew　there　could　be　more　of　them　lurking　very　near。　They　quickly　crossed　the　porch　to　his　truck；　and　he　told　her　to　get　in　and　lock　the　door　behind　her。
　　As　he　climbed　behind　the　wheel；　Moore　heard　a　crashing　noise　ing　through　the　foliage　perhaps　twenty　yards　behind　him；　he　twisted　around；　hearing　Jana　cry　out；　and　saw　the　shadows　approaching　from　the　deeper　jungle；　the　dark　things　plowing　through　the　tangle　of　brush　and　vines。　Moore　turned　the　key　in　the　ignition；　the　engine　started；　and　he　pressed　his　foot　to　the　floor。　The　truck　roared　in　response；　its　tires　throwing　up　clumps　of　wet　earth　as　Moore　raced　away　up　the　road。　In　the　side　mirror；　he　saw　them　break　through　the　jungle　fringe；　and　then　he　was　across　the　airstrip　and　heading　back　for　Coquina　village；　his　hands　holding　the　wheel　so　tightly　his　knuckles　were　white　as　bone。
　　〃WHAT　WERE　THEY？〃　Jana　clutched　at　his　sleeve；　her　eyes　wild　and　confused；　the　fear　had　her　now；　and　she　was　unable　to　think。
　　〃They're　alive；〃　he　said；　his　eyes　darting　left　and　right　to　pierce　the　green　shadows　on　each　side　of　the　twisted　road；　the　reality　of　what　he　was　saying　numbed　him；　and　his　temples　were　bathed　in　a　cold　sweat。　〃I　saw　them　in　the　U…boat；　and　Kip　saw　them。　I　didn't　believe。。。　I　didn't　want　to　believe。。。〃　He　touched　the　red　marks　at　his　throat。　〃I　don't　know　why　or　how；　but　I　know　they're　alive。。。〃
　　He　reached　the　village；　speeding　along　the　deserted　streets；　he　saw　the　jeep　was　gone　from　its　space　in　front　of　Kip's　office；　but　he　hammered　on　the　door　repeatedly　in　the　vain　hope　that　Kip　might　be　there。　As　he　turned　away　from　the　door　he　looked　up　and　saw　the　thick　roil　of　clouds　in　the　sky；　dull　gray；　blinding　white；　traces　of　black　far　in　the　distance。　He　crossed　the　Square；　finding　the　grocery　locked　and　the　blinds　down　over　the　windows；　he　reached　the　hardware　store　and　knocked　on　the　front　door　there；　but　the　place　was　deserted。　He　looked　down　High　Street　from　store　to　store；　everything　was　locked　up　and　quiet；　the　streets　empty；　a　ghost　town。　A　white　circle　of　gulls　swirled　above　Kiss　Bottom；　their　screams　ing　to　him　on　currents　of　wind；　they　swept　down　across　the　surface　and　then　back　again　toward　the　sky。　Moore　watched　them　flying　in　formation　out　to　sea；　as　if　abandoning　Coquina。
　　When　he　returned　to　the　truck　he　couldn't　look　in　Jana's　eyes　because　of　what　he　would　see　in　them；　and　because　he　was　afraid　of　what　she　might　see　in　his。　He　started　the　engine；　put　the　truck　into　gear；　and　drove　on　through　the　Square；　climbing　High　Street。
　　And　at　the　hotel　he　saw　the　front　door　was　open。
　　He　tensed　involuntarily。　Though　he'd　left　the　door　unlocked；　he　remembered　closing　it　that　morning。　Moore　slid　the　butcher　knife　into　his　waistband；　his　nerves　raw。
　　〃Wait　here；〃　he　said　to　Jana。　〃I'm　going　in　first。〃　He　left　her　sitting　in　the　truck　and　walked　cautiously　up　onto　the　porch；　with　one　hand　he　drew　out　the　knife；　and　with　the　other　pulled　open　the　screen　door。　He　stepped　across　the　threshold；　his　senses　as　aware　as　those　of　an　animal；　abruptly；　he　froze　in　place；　trying　to　see　into　the　dim　room。
　　There　was　a　man　sitting　in　a　chair；　a　suitcase　sat　on　the　floor　beside　him。　He　held　the　glass　paperweight　in　his　hands；　his　eyes　focused　on　it　as　if　he　had　found　something　that　had　been　lost　for　a　very　long　time。　Moore　let　the　screen　door　bang　shut　behind　him；　and　the　man　hastily…and　awkwardly…rose　to　his　feet。
　　　
　　　Nineteen
　　
　　〃FORGIVE　ME；〃　the　stranger　said　in　a　thickly　accented　voice。　〃The　door　was　open；　and　I　came　in　to　wait。〃　He　held　up　the　paperweight。　〃Please。。。　where　did　you　get　this？〃　The　man　dropped　his　gaze；　saw　the　knife　in　Moore's　hand。　〃I。。。　meant　no　harm；〃　he　said　very　quietly。
　　〃Who　are　you？〃　Moore　asked。
　　〃My　name　is　Frederick　Schiller。　I　was　told　I　could　find　a　room　here；　and　when　I　walked　up　from　the　village　I　couldn't　find　anyone。。。〃
　　Moore　stood　where　he　was　for　a　moment　trying　to　place　the　accent。　Of　course；　it　was　German。　He　put　the　knife　down　on　a　table；　still　cautious。
　　〃Where　did　you　get　this？〃　Schiller　asked　again；　holding　the　paperweight　as　if　it　were　a　precious　jewel。
　　Moore　ignored　his　interest。　〃How　did　you　get　here？〃
　　〃By　freighter　from　Jamaica。〃　He　paused　for　a　few　seconds；　then　reached　inside　his　coat　and　brought　out　a　cheap　brown　wallet。　〃I　can　pay；〃　he　said。
　　Moore　waved　the　wallet　aside。　〃I　don't　know　what　your　business　is　on　Coquina；　Mr。　Schiller；　but　it's　a　bad　time　for　you　to　be　here。〃
　　〃Oh？　Why　is　that？〃
　　〃There's　a　storm　building。　I　can　see　it　gathering　in　the　sky；　and　the　last　hurricane　we　had　almost　tore　this　place　apart。〃
　　〃My　business　won't　take　very　long；〃　Schiller　replied。　〃Now。。。　please。　This　object。。。　where　did　you　find　it？〃
　　〃Aboard　a　boat。。。〃
　　Schiller　closed　his　eyes。
　　〃。。。or　to　be　more　exact；　what's　left　of　one。〃　The　screen　door　opened　behind　Moore　and　Jana　came　through。　She　looked　from　Moore　to　Schiller　and　then　back　again。　〃Are　you　all　right？〃　he　asked　her　anxiously。
　　She　nodded；　running　a　hand　across　her　forehead。　〃Yes。。。　I'm　just　very　tired。　I　can't。。。　I　can't　think　very　coherently　yet。〃
　　〃Is　the　young　lady　ill？〃　Schiller　asked。
　　〃I　think　I'd　better　lie　down　for　a　while；〃　she　said　to　Moore。
　　He　glanced　over　at　the　German。　〃The　kitchen's　at　the　back　if　you　want　a　cup　of　coffee。　I　am　going　to　take　her　upstairs。〃　He　was　intrigued　by　the　man　now　and　wondered　what　his　story　was。　He　helped　Jana　up　the　stairway　to　her　room　at　the　end　of　the　hall　and　threw　back　the　covers　of　the　bed　for　her。　When　he　started　to　move　away　she　reached　up　and　grasped　his　forearm；　her　hair　fanning　out　across　the　pillows。　〃I　don't　understand；〃　she　said；　searching　his　face。　〃I　don't　understand　what's　happening　here；　and　I'm　afraid；　and　I　don't　know　what　to　do。。。〃
　　He　stood　looking　down　at　her　for　a　moment　and　then　smoothed　the　hair　away　from　her　forehead；　gently；　as　he　had　done　for　another　woman　a　long　time　ago。　〃Rest；〃　he　said。　〃Do　you　want　a　light　on　in　here？〃
　　〃No；〃　she　said。　She　lay　very　still　for　a　few　seconds　and　then　she　put　her　hands　to　her　face。　〃I　saw　it。。。　I　touched　it。。。　Dear　God；　I　can　still　smell　the　rot　of　it　on　me。。。〃
　　Moore　crossed　the　room；　shutting　the　terrace　doors。　When　he　looked　at　her　again　her　head　was　turned　away　from　him；　the　blond　hair　almost　silver　in　the　pale　light。　He　wondered　if　she　would　drift　off　to　sleep；　if　she　did；　what　would　she　dream　of？　The　corpse　with　the　mangled　brains？　The　grinning　face　of　a　thing　that　should　have　been　dead　forty　years　ago？　She　shifted　her　position；　her　hands　still　at　her　face；　and　Moore　heard　her　take　a　long；　painful　breath。　He　stood　beside　her　a　while　longer；　then　left　the　door　open　as　he　went　out。
　　He　walked　to　his　own　room　and　checked　the　forty…five　in　the　drawer。　It　was　loaded　with　one　clip；　and　there　were　two　spare　clips。　He　returned　the　gun　to　the　drawer　and　went　back　downstairs。
　　The　German　sat　holding　the　scorpion　paperweight；　a　whorl　of　blue　cigarette　smoke　around　his　head。　When　Moore　came　back　into　the　room　he　put　the　object　on　a　table　beside　his　chair。　Moore　paid　no　attention　to　him；　but　poured　himself　a　shot　of　rum　and　took　a　long　swallow。　With　the　afternoon　sun　hidden　behind　clouds；　the　light　was　a　pale　gray；　though　the　room　was　dim　and　cobwebbed　with　shadows；　he　made　no　move　to　turn　on　a　lamp。
　　〃So；〃　Moore　began；　finally　turning　to　him。　〃What's　your　business？〃
　　Schiller　exhaled　a　stream　of　smoke。　〃The　U…boat。〃
　　〃I　thought　as　much。〃
　　The　German　reached　inside　a　shirt　pocket　and　offered　the　newspaper　clipping。　Moore　looked　at　it　briefly。　〃That　woman。。。　Dr。　Thornton。。。　is　a　marine　archaeologist　here　to　take　a　look　at　the　boat　too。　I　don't　know　what　interest　you　might　have　in　the　thing；　but　aside　from　the　historic　value　it's　a　worthless　hulk。　I　wish　to　God　I'd　never　found　the　damned　thing。。。〃　His　voice　trailed　off；　and　he　took　another　drink　from　his　glass。
　　〃And　you've　been　inside？〃
　　〃Yes。〃
　　Schiller　sat　back；　sighed；　pulled　from　his　cigarette。　〃How　much　remains？〃　he　asked　in　a　strange；　distant　voice。
　　Moore　examined　him：　white　hair；　sharp　nose　and　chin；　high　cheekbones；　weary；　tormented　eyes；　deep　lines　across　the　forehead。　Representative　of　a　salvage　firm；　perhaps；　sent　from　Jamaica　to　appraise　the　hulk　as　scrap　iron？　No。　He　was　German；　and　that　was　too　much　of　a　coincidence。　〃Not　enough　for　salvage；〃　Moore　said；　testing　him。
　　A　thin　smile　crept　across　the　man's　face；　then　quickly　faded。　〃Salvage？　No。　I　don't　care　about　salvage；　I　would　think　she's　beyond　that　by　now。　It's　incredible；　you　know。　I　thought　by　now　the　sea　would　have　broken　her　into　pieces；　that　there　would　be　nothing　left　at　all。〃　He　raised　his　eyes　to　meet　Moore's。　〃It's　true；　then；　just　as　the　paper　said。〃　It　was　a　statement；　not　a　question。
　　Moore　sat　where　he　could　see　the　man's　face。　〃It's　true。〃
　　The　German　raised　the　paperweight　again；　Moore　saw　that　his　hand　was　trembling　slightly。　Schiller　turned　it　in　his　grasp；　running　a　finger　along　its　smooth　surface。　〃In　1942；〃　he　said；　〃I　was　a　seaman　in　the　German　navy。　I　was　aboard　U…198　when　she　was　attacked　and　sunk　by　British　subchasers　out　beyond　your　island。〃
　　Moore　leaned　forward；　his　expression　frozen。
　　〃Yes；〃　Schiller　said。　His　gaze　was　hard；　the　eyes；　like　bits　of　glass；　focused　on　a　spot　at　Moore's　forehead。　〃I　was　the　only　survivor。　All　the　others。。。　except　one。。。　went　down　with　the　boat；　and　that　man　who　didn't　was　burned　to　death　in　a　spillage　of　flaming　oil。　I　called　for　him。。。　I　tried　to　find　him　but　the　sea　was　littered　with　bodies。　The　air　stunk　of　smoke　and　crisped　flesh。　My　boat　was　gone；　it　had　dropped　out　from　underneath　me。　Oh　yes；　I　would　have　done　the　same　had　I　been　the　mander。　There　wasn't　time　you　see。　And　then　I　was　left　alone　with　the　noise　of　shelling　and　alarms　and　screaming。。。〃　He　caught　himself；　his　eyes　softened　a　fraction　and　he　stabbed　the　cigaret