sk.theshining-第58部分

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　ankle…　That　thought　broke　his　paralysis。　He　was　digging　at　the　loose　fall　of　snow　that　choked　the　end　of　the　concrete　ring；　throwing　it　back　between　his　legs　in　powdery　bursts　like　a　dog　digging　for　a　bone。　Blue　light　filtered　down　from　above　and　Danny　thrust　himself　up　at　it　like　a　diver　ing　out　of　deep　water。
　　He　scraped　his　back　on　the　lip　of　the　concrete　ring。　One　of　his　snowshoes　twisted　behind　the　other。　Snow　spilled　down　inside　his　ski　mask　and　into　the　collar　of　his　parka。　He　dug　at　the　snow；　clawed　at　it。　It　seemed　to　be　trying　to　hold　him；　to　suck　him　back　down；　back　into　the　concrete　ring　where　that　unseen；　leaf…crackling　thing　was；　and　keep　him　there。　Forever。
　　Then　he　was　out；　his　face　was　turned　up　to　the　sun；　and　he　was　crawling　through　the　snow；　crawling　away　from　the　half…buried　cement　ring；　gasping　harshly；　his　face　almost　ically　white　with　powdered　snow…a　living　fright…　mask。　He　hobbled　over　to　the　jungle　gym　and　sat　down　to　readjust　his　snowshoes　and　get　his　breath。　As　he　set　them　to　rights　and　tightened　the　straps　again；　he　never　took　his　eyes　from　the　hole　at　the　end　of　the　concrete　ring。　He　waited　to　see　if　something　would　e　out。　Nothing　did；　and　after　three　or　four　minutes；　Danny's　breathing　began　to　slow　down。　Whatever　it　was；　it　couldn't　stand　the　sunlight。　It　was　cooped　up　down　there；　maybe　only　able　to　e　out　when　it　was　dark。　。　。　or　when　both　ends　of　its　circular　prison　were　plugged　with　snow。
　　（but　i'm　safe　now　i'm　safe　i'll　just　go　back　because　now　i'm　）　Something　thumped　softly　behind　him。
　　He　turned　around；　toward　the　hotel；　and　looked。　But　even　before　he　looked　（Can　you　see　the　Indians　in　this　picture？）　he　knew　what　he　would　see；　because　he　knew　what　that　soft　thumping　sound　had　been。　It　was　the　sound　of　a　large　clump　of　snow　falling；　the　way　it　sounded　when　it　slid　off　the　roof　of　the　hotel　and　fell　to　the　ground。
　　（Can　you　see…？）　Yes。　He　could。　The　snow　had　fallen　off　the　hedge　dog。　When　he　came　down　it　had　only　been　a　harmless　lump　of　snow　outside　the　playground。　Now　it　stood　revealed；　an　incongruous　splash　of　green　in　all　the　eye…watering　whiteness。　It　was　sitting　up；　as　if　to　beg　a　sweet　or　a　scrap。
　　But　this　time　he　wouldn't　go　crazy；　he　wouldn't　blow　his　cool。　Because　at　least　he　wasn't　trapped　in　some　dark　old　hole。　He　was　in　the　sunlight。　And　it　was　just　a　dog。　It's　pretty　warm　out　today；　he　thought　hopefully。　Maybe　the　sun　just　melted　enough　snow　off　that　old　dog　so　the　rest　fell　off　in　a　bunch。　Maybe　that's　all　it　is。
　　（Don't　go　near　that　place　。　。　。　steer　right　clear。）　His　snowshoe　bindings　were　as　tight　as　they　were　ever　going　to　be。　He　stood　up　and　stared　back　at　the　concrete　ring；　almost　pletely　submerged　in　the　snow；　and　what　he　saw　at　the　end　he　had　exited　from　froze　his　heart。　There　was　a　circular　patch　of　darkness　at　the　end　of　it；　a　fold　of　shadow　that　marked　the　hole　he'd　dug　to　get　down　inside。　Now；　in　spite　of　the　snow…dazzle；　he　thought　he　could　see　something　there。　Something　moving。　A　hand。　The　waving　hand　of　some　desperately　unhappy　child；　waving　hand；　pleading　band；　drowning　hand。
　　（Save　me　O　please　save　me　If　you　can't　save　me　at　least　e　play　with　me　。　。
　　。　Forever。　And　Forever。　And　Forever。）
　　〃No；〃　Danny　whispered　huskily。　The　word　fell　dry　and　bare　from　his　mouth；　which　was　stripped　of　moisture。　He　could　feel　his　mind　wavering　now；　trying　to　go　away　the　way　it　had　when　the　woman　in　the　room　had　。　。　。　no；　better　not　think　of　that。
　　He　grasped　at　the　strings　of　reality　and　held　them　tightly。　He　had　to　get　out　of　here。　Concentrate　on　that。　Be　cool。　Be　like　the　Secret　Agent　Man。　Would　Patrick　McGoohan　be　crying　and　peeing　in　his　pants　like　a　little　baby？
　　Would　his　daddy？
　　That　calmed　him　somewhat。
　　From　behind　him；　that　soft　Hump　sound　of　falling　snow　came　again。　He　turned　around　and　the　head　of　one　of　the　hedge　lions　was　sticking　out　of　the　snow　now；　snarling　at　him。　It　was　closer　than　it　should　have　been；　almost　up　to　the　gate　of　the　playground。
　　Terror　tried　to　rise　up　and　he　quelled　it。　He　was　the　Secret　Agent　Man；　and　he　would　escape。
　　He　began　to　walk　out　of　the　playground；　taking　the　same　roundabout　course　his　father　had　taken　on　the　day　that　the　snow　flew。　He　concentrated　on　operating　the　snowshoes。　Slow；　flat　strides。　Don't　lift　your　foot　too　high　or　you'll　lose　your　balance。　Twist　your　ankle　and　spill　the　snow　off　the　crisscrossed　lacings。　It　seemed　so　slow。　He　reached　the　corner　of　the　playground。　The　snow　was　drifted　high　here　and　he　was　able　to　step　over　the　fence。　He　got　halfway　over　and　then　almost　fell　flat　when　the　snowshoe　on　his　behind　foot　caught　on　one　of　the　fence　posts。　He　leaned　on　the　outside　edge　of　gravity；　pinwheeling　his　arms；　remembering　how　bard　it　was　to　get　up　once　you　fell　down。
　　From　his　right；　that　soft　sound　again；　falling　clumps　of　snow。　He　looked　over　and　saw　the　other　two　lions；　clear　of　snow　now　down　to　their　forepaws；　side　by　side；　about　sixty　paces　away。　The　green　indentations　that　were　their　eyes　were　fixed　on　him。　The　dog　had　turned　its　head。
　　（It　only　happens　when　you're　not　looking。）
　　〃Oh！　Hey…〃　His　snowshoes　had　crossed　and　he　plunged　forward　into　the　snow；　arms　waving　uselessly。　More　snow　got　inside　his　hood　and　down　his　neck　and　into　the　tops　of　his　boots。　He　struggled　out　of　the　snow　and　tried　to　get　the　snowshoes　under　him；　heart　hammering　crazily　now　（Secret　Agent　Man　remember　you're　the　Secret　Agent）　and　overbalanced　backward。　For　a　moment　he　lay　there　looking　at　the　sky；　thinking　it　would　be　simpler　to　just　give　up。
　　Then　he　thought　of　the　thing　in　the　concrete　tunnel　and　knew　he　could　not。　He　gained　his　feet　and　stared　over　at　the　topiary。　All　three　lions　were　bunched　together　now；　not　forty　feet　away。　The　dog　had　ranged　off　to　their　left；　as　if　to　block　Danny's　retreat。　They　were　bare　of　snow　except　for　powdery　ruffs　around　their　necks　and　muzzles。　They　were　all　staring　at　him。
　　His　breath　was　racing　now；　and　the　panic　was　like　a　rat　behind　his　forehead；　twisting　and　gnawing。　He　fought　the　panic　and　he　fought　the　snowshoes。
　　（Daddy's　voice：　No；　don't　fight　them；　doc。　Walk　on　them　like　they　were　your　own　feet。　Walk　with　them。）　（Yes；　Daddy。）　He　began　to　walk　again；　trying　to　regain　the　easy　rhythm　he　had　practiced　with　his　daddy。　Little　by　little　it　began　to　e；　but　with　the　rhythm　came　an　awareness　of　just　how　tired　he　was；　how　much　his　fear　had　exhausted　him。　The　tendons　of　his　thighs　and　calves　and　ankles　were　hot　and　trembly。　Ahead　he　could　see　the　Overlook；　mockingly　distant；　seeming　to　stare　at　him　with　its　many　windows；　as　if　this　were　some　sort　of　contest　in　which　it　was　mildly　interested。
　　Danny　looked　back　over　his　shoulder　and　his　hurried　breathing　caught　for　a　moment　and　then　hurried　on　even　faster。　The　nearest　lion　was　now　only　twenty　feet　behind；　breasting　through　the　snow　like　a　dog　paddling　in　a　pond。　The　two　others　were　to　its　right　and　left；　pacing　it。　They　were　like　an　army　platoon　on　patrol；　the　dog；　still　off　to　their　left；　the　scout。　The　closest　lion　had　its　head　down。　The　shoulders　bunched　powerfully　above　its　neck。　The　tail　was　up；　as　if　in　the　instant　before　he　had　turned　to　look　it　had　been　swishing　back　and　forth；　back　and　forth。　He　thought　it　looked　like　a　great　big　housecat　that　was　having　a　good　time　playing　with　a　mouse　before　killing　it。
　　（…falling…）　No；　if　he　fell　he　was　dead。　They　would　never　let　him　get　up。　They　would　pounce。　He　pinwheeled　his　arms　madly　and　lunged　ahead；　his　center　of　gravity　dancing　just　beyond　his　nose。　He　caught　it　and　hurried　on；　snapping　glances　back　over　his　shoulder。　The　air　whistled　in　and　out　of　his　dry　throat　like　hot　glass。
　　The　world　closed　down　to　the　dazzling　snow；　the　green　hedges；　and　the　whispery　sound　of　his　snowshoes。　And　something　else。　A　soft；　muffled　padding　sound。　He　tried　to　hurry　faster　and　couldn't。　He　was　walking　over　the　buried　driveway　now；　a　small　boy　with　his　face　almost　buried　in　the　shadow　of　his　parka　hood。　The　afternoon　was　still　and　bright。
　　When　he　looked　back　again；　the　point　lion　was　only　five　feet　behind。　It　was　grinning。　Its　mouth　was　open；　its　haunches　tensed　down　like　a　clockspring。
　　Behind　it　and　the　others　he　could　see　the　rabbit；　its　head　now　sticking　out　of　the　snow；　bright　green；　as　if　it　had　turned　its　horrid　blank　face　to　watch　the　end　of　the　stalk。
　　Now；　on　the　Overlook's　front　lawn　between　the　circular　drive　and　the　porch；　he　let　the　panic　loose　and　began　to　run　clumsily　in　the　snowshoes；　not　daring　to　look　back　now；　tilting　further　and　further　forward；　his　arms　out　ahead　of　him　like　a　blind　man　feeling　for　obstacles。　His　hood　fell　back；　revealing　his　plexion；　paste　white　giving　way　to　hectic　red　blotches　on　his　cheeks；　his　eyes　bulging　with　terror。　The　porch　was　very　close　now。
　　Behind　him　he　heard　the　sudden　hard　crunch　of　snow　as　something　leaped。
　　He　fell　on　the　porch　steps；　screaming　without　sound；　and　scrambled　up　them　on　his　hands　and　knees；　snowshoes　clattering　and　askew　behind　him。
　　There　was　a　slashing　sound　in　the　air　and　sudden　pain　in　his　leg。　The　ripping　sound　of　cloth。　Something　else　that　might　have…must　have…been　in　his　mind。
　　Bellowing；　angry　roar。
　　Smell　of　blood　and　evergreen。
　　He　fell　full…length　on　the　porch；　sobbing　hoarsely；　the　rich；　metallic　taste　of　copper　in　his　mouth。　His　heart　was　thundering　in　his　chest。　There　was　a　small　trickle　of　blood　ing　from　his　nose。
　　He　had　no　idea　how　long　he　lay　there　before　the　lobby　doors　flew　open　and　Jack　ran　out；　wearing　just　his　jeans　and　a　pair　of　slippers。　Wendy　was　behind　him。
　　〃Danny！〃　she　screamed。
　　〃Doc！　Danny；　for　Christ's　sake！　What's　wrong？　What　happened？〃　Daddy　was　helping　him　up。　Below　the　knee　his　snowpants　were　ripped　open。
　　Inside；　his　woollen　ski　sock　had　been　ripped　open　and　his　calf　had　been　shallowly　scratched　。　。　。　as　if　he　had　tried　to　push　his　way　through　a　closely　grown　evergreen　hedge　and　the　branches　had　clawed　him。
　　He　looked　over　his　shoulder。　Far　down　the　lawn；　past　the　putting　green；　were　a　number　of　vague；　snow…cowled　humps。　The　hedge　animals。　Between　them　and　the　playground。　Between　them　and　the　road。
　　His　legs　gave　way。　Jack　caught　him。　He　began　to　cry。
　　　
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