sk.thetalisman-第106部分

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　Morgan；　in　either　of　his　roles；　had　caused　this；　then　he　had　in　some　sense　brought　death　to　the　Territories；　or　so　Jack　thought。
　　Now　there　were　no　more　intricate　valleys　and　hollows；　now　the　land　seemed　a　vast　red　desert。　The　queerly　stunted　trees　dotted　the　sloping　sides　of　this　great　desert。　Before　Jack；　the　twin　silver　rails　of　the　tracks　rolled　on　through　darkened　reddish　emptiness；　to　his　side；　empty　desert　also　rolled　away　through　the　dark。
　　The　red　land　seemed　empty；　anyhow。　For　several　hours　Jack　never　actually　caught　sight　of　anything　larger　than　the　deformed　little　animals　concealing　themselves　on　the　slopes　of　the　railway　cuttings…but　there　were　times　when　he　thought　he　caught　a　sudden　sliding　movement　in　the　corner　of　one　eye；　turned　to　see　it；　and　it　was　gone。　At　first　he　thought　he　was　being　followed。　Then；　for　a　hectic　time；　no　longer　than　twenty　or　thirty　minutes；　he　imagined　that　he　was　being　tracked　by　the　dog…things　from　Thayer　School。　Wherever　he　looked；　something　had　just　ceased　to　move…had　nipped　behind　one　of　the　coiled…up　trees　or　slipped　into　the　sand。　During　this　time　the　wide　desert　of　the　Blasted　Lands　did　not　seem　empty　or　dead；　but　full　of　slithery；　hidden　life。　Jack　pushed　forward　on　the　train's　gearshift　（as　if　that　could　help）　and　urged　the　little　train　to　go　faster；　faster。　Richard　slumped　in　the　ell　of　his　seat；　whimpering。　Jack　imagined　all　those　beings；　those　things　neither　canine　nor　human；　rushing　toward　them；　and　prayed　that　Richard's　eyes　would　stay　closed。
　　'NO！'　Richard　yelled；　still　sleeping。
　　Jack　nearly　fell　out　of　the　cab。　He　could　see　Etheridge　and　Mr。　Dufrey　loping　after　them。　They　gained　ground；　their　tongues　lolling；　their　shoulders　working。　In　the　next　second；　he　realized　that　he　had　seen　only　shadows　travelling　beside　the　train。　The　loping　schoolboys　and　their　headmaster　had　winked　out　like　birthday　candles。
　　'NOT　THERE！'　Richard　bawled。　Jack　inhaled　carefully。　He；　they；　were　safe。　The　dangers　of　the　Blasted　Lands　were　overrated；　mainly　literary。　In　not　very　many　hours　the　sun　would　lift　itself　up　again。　Jack　raised　his　watch　to　the　level　of　his　eyes　and　saw　that　they　had　been　on　the　train　just　under　two　hours。　His　mouth　opened　in　a　huge　yawn；　and　he　found　himself　regretting　that　he　had　eaten　so　much　back　in　The　Depot。
　　A　piece　of　cake；　he　thought；　this　is　going　to　be…
　　And　just　as　he　was　about　to　plete　his　paraphrase　of　the　Burns　lines　old　Anders　had　rather　startlingly　quoted；　he　saw　the　first　of　the　fireballs；　which　destroyed　his　placency　forever。
　　　
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　　A　ball　of　light　at　least　ten　feet　in　diameter　tumbled　over　the　edge　of　the　horizon；　sizzling　hot；　and　at　first　arrowed　straight　toward　the　train。　'Holy　shit；'　Jack　muttered　to　himself；　remembering　what　Anders　had　said　about　the　balls　of　fire。　If　a　man　gets　too　close　to　one　of　those　fireballs；　he　gets　turrible　sick　。　。　。　loses　his　hair　。　。　。　sores're　apt　to　raise　all　over　his　body　。　。　。　he　begins　to　vomit　。　。　。　vomits　and　vomits　until　his　stomach　ruptures　and　his　throat　bursts　He　swallowed；　hard…it　was　like　swallowing　a　pound　of　nails。　'Please；　God；'　he　said　aloud。　The　giant　ball　of　light　sped　straight　toward　him；　as　though　it　owned　a　mind　and　had　decided　to　erase　Jack　Sawyer　and　Richard　Sloat　from　the　earth。　Radiation　poisoning。　Jack's　stomach　contracted；　and　his　testicles　froze　up　under　his　body。　Radiation　poisoning。　Vomits　and　vomits　until　his　stomach　ruptures　。　。　。
　　The　excellent　dinner　Anders　had　given　him　nearly　leaped　out　of　his　stomach。　The　fireball　continued　to　roll　straight　toward　the　train；　shooting　out　sparks　and　sizzling　with　its　own　fiery　energy。　Behind　it　lengthened　a　glowing　golden　trail　which　seemed　magically　to　instigate　other　snapping；　burning　lines　in　the　red　earth。　Just　when　the　fireball　bounced　up　off　the　earth　and　took　a　zagging　bounce　like　a　giant　tennis　ball；　wandering　harmlessly　off　to　the　left；　Jack　had　his　first　clear　glimpse　of　the　creatures　he　had　all　along　thought　were　following　them。　The　reddish…golden　light　of　the　wandering　fireball；　and　the　residual　glow　of　the　old　trails　in　the　earth；　illuminated　a　group　of　deformed…looking　beasts　which　had　evidently　been　following　the　train。　They　were　dogs；　or　once　had　been　dogs；　or　their　ancestors　had　been　dogs；　and　Jack　glanced　uneasily　at　Richard　to　make　sure　that　he　was　still　sleeping。
　　The　creatures　falling　behind　the　train　flattened　out　on　the　ground　like　snakes。　Their　heads　were　doglike；　Jack　saw；　but　their　bodies　had　only　vestigial　hind　legs　and　were；　as　far　as　he　could　see；　hairless　and　tailless。　They　looked　wet…the　pink　hairless　skin　glistened　like　that　of　newborn　mice。　They　snarled；　hating　to　be　seen。　It　had　been　these　awful　mutant　dogs　that　Jack　had　seen　on　the　banks　of　the　railway　cutting。　Exposed；　flattened　out　like　reptiles；　they　hissed　and　snarled　and　began　creeping　away…they；　too；　feared　the　fireballs　and　the　trails　the　fireballs　left　on　the　earth。　Then　Jack　caught　the　odor　of　the　fireball；　now　moving　swiftly；　somehow　almost　angrily；　toward　the　horizon　again；　igniting　an　entire　row　of　the　stunted　trees。　Hellfire；　corruption。
　　Another　of　the　fireballs　came　cruising　over　the　horizon　and　blazed　away　off　to　the　boys'　left。　The　stink　of　missed　connections；　of　blasted　hopes　and　evil　desires…Jack；　with　his　heart　lodged　just　under　his　tongue；　imagined　he　found　all　this　in　the　foul　smell　broadcast　by　the　fireball。　Mewing；　the　crowd　of　mutant　dogs　had　dispersed　into　the　threat　of　glinting　teeth；　a　whisper　of　surreptitious　movement；　the　hushushush　of　heavy　legless　bodies　dragged　through　red　dust。　How　many　of　them　were　there？　From　the　base　of　a　burning　tree　which　tried　to　hide　its　head　in　its　trunk　two　of　the　deformed　dogs　bared　long　teeth　at　him。
　　Then　another　fireball　lurched　over　the　wide　horizon；　spinning　off　a　wide　glowing　track　a　distance　from　the　train；　and　Jack　momentarily　glimpsed　what　looked　like　a　ramshackle　little　shed　set　just　below　the　curve　of　the　desert　wall。　Before　it　stood　a　large　humanoid　figure；　male；　looking　toward　him。　An　impression　of　size；　hairiness；　force；　malice　。　。　。
　　Jack　was　indelibly　conscious　of　the　slowness　of　Anders's　little　train；　of　his　and　Richard's　exposure　to　anything　that　might　want　to　investigate　them　a　little　more　closely。　The　first　fireball　had　dispatched　the　horrible　dog…things；　but　human　residents　of　the　Blasted　Lands　might　prove　more　difficult　to　overe。　Before　the　light　diminished　into　the　glowing　trail；　Jack　saw　that　the　figure　before　the　shed　was　following　his　progress；　turning　a　great　shaggy　head　as　the　train　passed　by。　If　what　he　had　seen　were　dogs；　then　what　would　the　people　be　like？　In　the　last　of　the　flaring　light　from　the　ball　of　fire；　the　manlike　being　scuttled　around　the　side　of　its　dwelling。　A　thick　reptilian　tail　swung　from　its　hindquarters；　and　then　the　thing　had　slipped　around　the　side　of　the　building；　and　then　it　was　dark　again　and　nothing…dogs；　man…beast；　shed…was　visible。　Jack　could　not　even　be　sure　that　he　had　really　seen　it。
　　Richard　jerked　in　his　sleep；　and　Jack　pushed　his　hand　against　the　simple　gearshift；　vainly　trying　for　more　speed。　The　dog…noises　gradually　faded　behind　them。　Sweating；　Jack　raised　his　left　wrist　again　to　the　level　of　his　eyes　and　saw　that　only　fifteen　minutes　had　passed　since　the　last　time　he'd　checked　his　watch。　He　astonished　himself　by　yawning　again；　and　again　regretted　eating　so　much　at　The　Depot。
　　'NO！'　Richard　screamed。　'NO！　I　CAN'T　GO　THERE！'　
　　There？　Jack　wondered。　Where　was　'there'？　California？　Or　was　it　anywhere　threatening；　anywhere　Richard's　precarious　control；　as　insecure　as　an　unbroken　horse；　might　slip　away　from　him？
　　　
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　　All　night　Jack　stood　at　the　gearshift　while　Richard　slept；　watching　the　trails　of　the　departed　fireballs　flicker　along　the　reddish　surface　of　the　earth。　Their　odor；　of　dead　flowers　and　hidden　corruption；　filled　the　air。　From　time　to　time　he　heard　the　chatter　of　the　mutant　dogs；　or　of　other　poor　creatures；　rising　from　the　roots　of　the　stunted；　ingrown　trees　which　still　dotted　the　landscape。　The　ranks　of　batteries　occasionally　sent　up　snapping　arcs　of　blue。　Richard　was　in　a　state　beyond　mere　sleep；　wrapped　in　an　unconsciousness　he　both　required　and　had　willed。　He　made　no　more　tortured　outcries…in　fact　he　did　nothing　but　slump　into　his　corner　of　the　cab　and　breathe　shallowly；　as　if　even　respiration　took　more　energy　than　he　had。　Jack　half…prayed　for；　half…feared　the　ing　of　the　light。　When　morning　came；　he　would　be　able　to　see　the　animals；　but　what　else　might　he　have　to　see？
　　From　time　to　time　he　glanced　over　at　Richard。　His　friend's　skin　seemed　oddly　pale；　an　almost　ghostly　shade　of　gray。
　　　
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　　Morning　came　with　a　relaxation　of　the　darkness。　A　band　of　pink　appeared　along　the　bowllike　edge　of　the　eastern　horizon；　and　soon　a　rosy　stripe　grew　up　beneath　it；　pushing　the　optimistic　pinkness　higher　in　the　sky。　Jack's　eyes　felt　almost　as　red　as　that　stripe；　and　his　legs　ached。　Richard　lay　across　the　whole　of　the　cab's　little　seat；　still　breathing　in　a　restricted；　almost　reluctant　way。　It　was　true；　Jack　saw…Richard's　face　did　seem　peculiarly　gray。　His　eyelids　fluttered　in　a　dream；　and　Jack　hoped　that　his　friend　was　not　about　to　erupt　in　another　of　his　screams。　Richard's　mouth　dropped　open；　but　what　emerged　was　the　tip　of　his　tongue；　not　a　loud　outcry。　Richard　passed　his　tongue　along　his　upper　lip；　snorted；　then　fell　back　into　his　stupefied　a。
　　Although　Jack　wished　desperately　to　sit　down　and　close　his　own　eyes；　he　did　not　disturb　Richard。　For　the　more　Jack　saw　as　the　new　light　filled　in　the　details　of　the　Blasted　Lands；　the　more　he　hoped　Richard's　unconsciousness　would　endure　as　long　as　he　himself　could　endure　the　conditions　of　Anders's　cranky　little　train。　He　was　anything　but　eager　to　witness　the　response　of　Richard　Sloat　to　the　idiosyncrasies　of　the　Blasted　Lands。　A　small　amount　of　pain；　a　quantity　of　exhaustion…these　were　a　minimal　price　to　pay　for　what　he　knew　must　be　a　temporary　peace。
　　What　he　saw　through　his　squinting　eyes　was　a　landscape　in　which　nothing　seemed　to　have　escaped　withering；　crippling　damage。　By　moonlight；　it　had　seemed　a　vast　desert；　though　a　desert　furnished　with　trees。　Now　Jack　took　in　that　his　'desert'　was　actually　no