dk.coldfire-第22部分

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repulsively；　like　an　enormous　internal　organ　in　the　exposed　and　steaming　guts　of　a　prehistoric　behemoth。　
　Whoosh。　
　She　backed　away　from　the　wet；　malignantly　animated　wall。　Turned。　
　Ran。　Had　to　get　out。　Fast。　The　Enemy。　It　was　ing。　Had　followed　her。　
　Out　of　the　dream。　The　door。　Locked。　Deadbolt。　Disengaged　it。　Hands　shaking。　The　Enemy。　ing。　Brass　security　chain。　Rattled　it　free。　
　Door。　
　Jerked　it　open。　Something　was　on　the　threshold；　filling　the　doorway；　bigger　than　she　was；　something　beyond　human　experience；　simultaneously　insectile　and　arachnoid　and　reptilian；　squirming　and　jittering；　a　tangled　mass　of　spider　legs　and　antennae　and　serpentine　coils　and　roachlike　mandibles　and　multifaceted　eyes　and　rattlesnake　fangs　and　claws；　a　thousand　nightmares　rolled　into　one；　but　she　was　awake。　It　burst　through　the　door；　seized　her；　pain　exploding　from　her　sides　where　its　talons　tore　at　her；　and　she　screamed　…a　night　breeze。　
　That　was　the　only　thing　ing　through　the　open　door。　A　soft；　summery　night　breeze。　
　Holly　stood　in　the　doorway；　shuddering　and　gasping　for　breath；　looking　out　in　astonishment　at　the　concrete　promenade　of　the　motel。　Lacy　queen　palms；　Australian　tree　ferns；　and　other　greenery　swayed　sensuously　under　the　caress　of　the　tropical　zephyr。　The　surface　of　the　swimming　pool　rippled　gently；　creating　countless　ever…changing　facets；　refracting　the　pool…bottom　lights；　so　it　seemed　as　if　there　was　not　a　body　of　water　in　the　middle　of　the　courtyard　but　a　hole　filled　with　a　pirate's　treasure　of　polished　sapphires。　
　The　creature　that　had　attacked　her　was　gone　as　if　it　had　never　existed。　
　It　had　not　scuttled　away　or　scurried　up　some　web；　it　had　simply　evaporated　in　an　instant。　
　She　no　longer　felt　the　icy；　squirming　tendril　on　the　back　of　her　neck　or　inside　her　skull。　
　A　couple　of　other　guests　had　e　out　of　rooms　farther　along　the　promenade；　evidently　to　investigate　her　scream。　
　Holly　stepped　back　from　the　threshold。　She　did　not　want　to　attract　their　attention　now。　
　She　glanced　over　her　shoulder。　The　wall　behind　the　bed　was　only　a　wall　again。　
　The　clock　built　into　the　nightstand　showed　5：08　A。M。　
　She　eased　the　door　shut；　and　suddenly　she　had　to　lean　against　it；　because　all　the　strength　went　out　of　her　legs。　
　Instead　of　being　relieved　that　the　strange　ordeal　had　ended；　she　was　shattered。　She　hugged　herself　and　shivered　so　hard；　her　teeth　chattered。　She　began　to　cry　softly；　not　from　fear　of　the　experience；　concern　for　her：　current　safety；　or　concern　about　her　sanity；　but　from　a　profound　sense　of　having　been　totally　violated。　Briefly　but　for　too　long；　she　had　been　helplessly；　victimized；　enslaved　by　terror；　controlled　by　an　entity　beyond　her　understanding。　She'd　been　psychologically　raped。　Something　needful　had　overpowered　her；　forced　its　way　into　her；　denying　her　free　will；　though　gone　now；　it　had　left　traces　of　itself　within　her；　a　residue　that　stained　her　mind；　her　soul。　
　Just　a　dream；　she　told　herself　encouragingly。　
　But　it　had　not　been　a　dream　when　she　sat　up　in　bed　and　snapped　on　the　lamp。　The　nightmare　had　followed　her　into　the　waking　world。　
　Just　a　dream；　don't　make　so　much　of　it；　get　control　of　yourself；　she　thought；　struggling　to　regain　her　equanimity。　You　dreamed　you　were　in　that　lightless　place；　then　you　dreamed　that　you　sat　up　in　bed　and　turned　on　the　light；　then　in　your　dream　you　saw　the　wall　bulging　and　ran　for　the　door。　But　you　were　only　sleepwalking；　you　were　still　asleep　when　you　pulled　the　door　open；　still　asleep　when　you　saw　the　boogeyman　an　screamed；　which　was　when　you　finally　woke　up　for　real；　screamed　yourself　awake。　
　She　wanted　to　believe　that　explanation；　but　it　was　too　pat　to　be　credible。　
　No　nightmare　she'd　ever　known　had　been　that　elaborate　in　its　texture　and　detail。　Besides；　she　never　sleepwalked。　
　Something　real　had　been　reaching　for　her。　Maybe　not　the　insect…reptile　spider　thing　in　the　doorway。　Maybe　that　was　only　an　image　in　which　another　entity　clad　itself　to　frighten　her。　But　something　had　been　pushing　through　to　this　world　from。　。　。　
　From　where？　It　didn't　matter　where。　From　out　there。　From　beyond。　And　it　almost　got　her。　
　No。　That　was　ridiculous。　Tabloid　stuff　Even　the　National　Enquirer　didn't　publish　trash　that　trashy　any　more。　I　WAS　MIND…RAPED　BY　A　BEAST　FROM　BEYOND。　Crap　like　that　was　three　steps　below　SINGER　ADMITS　BEING　SPACE　ALIEN；　two　steps　belOw　JESUS　SPEAKS　TO　NUN　FROM　INSIDE　A　MICROWAVE；　and　even　a　full　step　below　ELVIS　HAD　BRAIN　TRANSPLANTED；　LIVES　NOW　AS　ROSEANNE　BARR。　
　The　more　foolish　she　felt　for　entertaining　such　thoughts；　the　calmer　she　became。　Dealing　with　the　experience　was　easier　if　she　could　believe　that　it　was　all　a　product　of　her　overactive　imagination；　which　had　been　unreasonably　stimulated　by　the　admittedly　fantastic　Ironheart　case。　
　Finally　she　was　able　to　stand　on　her　own；　without　leaning　on　the　door。　
　She　relocked　the　deadbolt；　reengaged　the　security　chain。　
　As　she　stepped　away　from　the　door；　she　became　aware　of　a　hot；　stinging　pain　in　her　left　side。　It　wasn't　serious；　but　it　made　her　wince；　and　she　realized　that　a　similar　but　lesser　pain　sizzled　in　her　right　side　as　well。　
　She　took　hold　of　her　T…shirt　to　lift　it　and　look　at　herself　and　discovered　that　the　fabric　was　slashed。　Three　places　on　the　left　side。　
　Two　on　the　right。　
　It　was　spotted　with　blood。　
　With　renewed　dread；　Holly　went　into　the　bathroom　and　switched　on　the　harsh　fluorescent　light。　She　stood　in　front　of　the　mirror；　hesitated；　then　pulled　the　torn　T…shirt　over　her　head。　
　A　thin　flow　of　blood　seeped　down　her　left　flank　from　three　shallow　gashes。　The　first　laceration　was　just　under　her　breast；　and　the　others　were　spaced　at　two…inch　intervals。　Two　scratches　blazed　on　her　right　side；　though　they　were　not　as　deep　as　those　on　the　left　and　were　not　bleeding　freely。　
　The　claws。　
　Jim　threw　up　in　the　toilet；　flushed；　then　rinsed　his　mouth　twice　with　mint…flavored　Listerine。　
　The　face　in　the　mirror　was　the　most　troubled　he　had　ever　seen。　He　had　to　look　away　from　the　reflection　of　his　own　eyes。　
　He　leaned　against　the　sink。　For　at　least　the　thousandth　time　in　the　year；　he　wondered　what　in　God's　name　was　happening　to　him。　
　In　his　sleep　he　had　gone　to　the　windmill　again。　Never　before　had　the　same　nightmare　troubled　him　two　nights　in　a　row。　Usually；　weeks　passed　between　reoccurrences。　
　Worse；　there　had　been　an　unsettling　new　element…more　than　just　the　rain　on　the　narrow　windows；　the　lambent　flame　of　the　candle　and　tire　dancing　shadows　it　produced；　the　sound　of　the　big　sails　turning　outside　the　low　rumble　of　the　millstones　below；　and　an　inexplicable　pall　of　fear。　
　This　time　he'd　been　aware　of　a　malevolent　presence；　out　of　sight　but　drawing　nearer　by　the　second；　something　so　evil　and　alien　that　he　could　not　even　imagine　its　form　or　full　intentions。　He　had　expected　it　to　burst　out　of　the　limestone　wall；　erupt　through　the　plank　floor；　or　explode　in　upon　him　from　the　heavy　timbered　door　at　the　head　of　the　mill　stairs。　He　had　been　unable　to　decide　which　way　to　run。　Finally　he　had　yanked　open　the　door　and　awakened　with　a　scream。　If　anything　had　been　there；　he　could　not　remember　what　it　had　looked　like。　
　Regardless　of　the　appearance　it　might　have　had；　Jim　knew　what　to　call　it：　the　enemy。　Except　that　now　he　thought　of　it　with　a　capital　〃T〃　and　a　capital　〃E。〃　The　Enemy。　The　amorphous　beast　that　haunted　many　of　his　other　nightmares　had　found　its　way　into　the　windmill　dream；　where　it　had　never　terrorized　him　before。　
　Crazy　as　it　seemed；　he　sensed　that　the　creature　was　not　merely　a　fantasy　spawned　by　his　subconscious　while　he　slept。　It　was　as　real　as　he　himself　Sooner　or　later　it　would　cross　the　barrier　between　the　world　dreams　and　the　waking　world　as　easily　as　it　had　crossed　the　barrier　between　different　nightmares。　
　Holly　never　considered　going　back　to　bed。　She　knew　she　would　not　sleep　again　for　many　hours；　until　she　was　so　exhausted　that　she　would　be　unable　to　keep　her　eyes　open　no　matter　how　much　strong　black　coffee　she　drank。　
　Sleep　had　ceased　to　be　a　sanctuary。　It　was；　instead；　a　source　of　danger；　a　highway　to　hell　or　somewhere　worse；　along　which　she　might　encounter　an　inhuman　traveler。　
　That　made　her　angry。　Everyone　needed　and　deserved　the　refuge　of　sleep。　
　As　dawn　came；　she　took　a　long　shower；　carefully　but　diligently　scrubbing　the　shallow　lacerations　on　her　sides；　although　the　soap　and　hot　water　stung　the　open　flesh。　She　worried　that　she　would　develop　an　infection　as　strange　as　the　briefly　glimpsed　monstrosity　that　had　inflicted　her　wounds。　
　That　sharpened　her　anger。　
　By　nature；　she　was　a　good　Girl　Scout；　always　prepared　for　any　eventuality。　When　traveling；　she　carried　a　few　first…aid　supplies　in　the　same　kit　with　her　Lady　Remington　shaver：　iodine；　gauze　pads；　adhesive　tape；　Band…Aids；　a　small　aerosol　can　of　Bactine；　and　a　tube　of　ointment　that　was　useful　for　soothing　minor　burns。　After　toweling　offù　from　the　shower；　she　sat　naked　on　the　edge　of　the　bed；　sprayed　Bactine　on　her　wounds；　then　daubed　at　them　with　iodine。　
　She　had　bee　a　reporter；　in　part；　because　as　a　younger　woman　she　had　believed　that　journalism　had　the　power　to　explain　the　world；　to　make　sense　of　events　that　sometimes　seemed　chaotic　and　meaningless。　
　More　than　a　decade　of　newspaper　employment　had　shaken　her　conviction　that　the　human　experience　could　be　explained　all　or　even　most　of　the　time。　But　she　still　kept　a　well…ordered　desk；　meticulously　arranged　files；　and　neat　story　notes。　In　her　closets　at　home；　her　clothes　were　arranged　according　to　season；　then　according　to　the　occasion　（formal；　semi…formal；　informal）；　then　by　color。　If　life　insisted　on　being　chaotic；　and　if　journalism　had　failed　her　as　a　tool　for　bringing　order　to　the　world；　at　least　she　could　depend　on　routine　and　habit　to　create　a　personal　pocket　universe　of　stability；　however　fragile；　beyond　which　the　disorder　and　tumult　of　life　were　kept　at　bay。　
　The　iodine　stung。　
　She　was　angrier。　Seething。　
　The　shower　disturbed　the　clots　that　had　coagulated　in　the　deeper　scratches　on　her　left　side。　She　was　bleeding　slightly　again。　She　sat　quietly　on　the　edge　of　the　bed　for　a　while；　holding　a　wad　of　Kleenex　against　the　wounds；　until　the　lacerations　were　no　longer　oozing。　
　By　t