dk.coldfire-第64部分

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　Holly　recalled　a　moment　from　the　dream　in　which　she　had　been　in　Lena　Ironheart's　body；　climbing　the　mill　stairs。　
　When　she　had　reached　the　top；　she　had　found　ten…year…old　Jim　standing　with　his　hands　fisted　at　his　sides；　and　he　had　turned　to　her　and　said；　〃I'm　scared；　help　me；　the　walls；　the　walls〃　At　his　feet　had　been　a　yellow　candle　in　a　blue　dish。　Until　now　she'd　forgotten　that　beside　the　dish　lay　a　hardcover　book　in　a　colorful　dustjacket。　
　It　was　the　same　dustjacket　reproduced　on　the　lectern：　The　Black　Windmill。　
　〃No；〃　Jim　said　again；　and　he　turned　away　from　the　plaque。　He　stared　around　worriedly　at　the　breeze…ruffled　trees。　
　Holly　read　on　and　discovered　that　twenty…five　years　ago；　the　very　year　that　ten…year…old　Jim　Ironheart　had　e　to　town；　The　Black　Windmill　had　been　made　into　a　motion　picture。　The　New　Svenborg　Mill　had　served　as　the　primary　location。　The　motion…picture　pany　had　created　a　shallow　but　convincing　millpond　around　it；　then　paid　to　restore　the　land　after　filming　and　to　establish　the　current　pocket　park。　
　Still　turning　slowly　around；　frowning　at　the　trees　and　shrubs；　at　the　gloom　beneath　them　that　the　overcast　day　could　not　dispel；　Jim　said；　〃Something's　ing。〃　
　Holly　could　see　nothing　ing；　and　she　believed　that　he　was　just　trying　to　distract　her　from　the　plaque。　He　did　not　want　to　accept　the　implications　of　the　information　on　it；　so　he　was　trying　to　make　her　turn　away　from　it　with　him。　
　The　movie　must　have　been　a　dog；　because　Holly　had　never　heard　of　it。　It　appeared　to　have　been　the　kind　of　production　that　was　big　news　nowhere　but　in　New　Svenborg　and；　even　there；　only　because　it　was　based　on　a　book　by　a　valley　resident。　On　the　historical　marker；　the　last　paragraph　of　copy　listed；　among　other　details　of　the　production；　the　names　of　the　five　most　important　members　of　the　cast。　No　big　box…office　draws　had　appeared　in　the　flick。　Of　the　first　four　names；　she　recognized　only　M。　
　Emmet　Walsh；　who　was　a　personal　favorite　of　hers。　
　The　fifth　cast　member　was　a　young　and　then…unknown　Robert　Vaughn。　
　She　looked　up　at　the　looming　mill。　
　〃What　is　happening　here？〃　she　said　aloud。　She　lifted　her　gaze　to　the　dismal　sky；　then　lowered　it　to　the　photo　of　the　dustjacket　for　Willott's　book。　〃What　the　hell　is　happening　here？〃　In　a　voice　quaking　with　fear　but　also　with　an　eerie　note　of　desire；　Jim　said；　〃It's　ing！〃　She　looked　where　he　was　staring；　and　saw　a　disturbance　in　the　earth　at　the　far　end　of　the　small　park；　as　if　something　was　burrowing　toward　them；　pushing　up　a　yard…wide　hump　of　dirt　and　sod　to　mark　its　tunnel；　moving　fast；　straight　at　them。　
　She　whirled　on　Jim；　grabbed　him。　〃Stop　it！〃　〃It's　ing；〃　he　said；　wide…eyed。　
　〃Jim；　it's　you；　it's　only　you。〃　
　〃No。　。　。　not　me。　。　。　The　Enemy。〃　He　sounded　half　in　a　trance。　
　Holly　glanced　back　and　saw　the　thing　passing　under　the　concrete　walkway；　which　cracked　and　heaved　up　in　In　its　wake。　
　〃Jim；　damn　it！〃　He　was　staring　at　the　approaching　killer　with　horror　but　also　with；　she　thought；　a　sort　of　longing。　
　One　of　the　park　benches　was　knocked　over　as　the　earth　bulged　then　sank　under　it。　
　The　Enemy　was　only　forty　feet　from　them；　ing　fast。　
　She　grabbed　Jim　by　the　shirt；　shook　him；　tried　to　make　him　look　at　her。　
　〃I　saw　this　movie　when　I　was　a　kid。　What　was　it　called；　huh？　Wasn't　it　Invaders　From　Mars；　something　like　that；　where　the　aliens　open　doors　in　the　sand　and　suck　you　down？〃　She　glanced　back。　It　was　thirty　feet　from　them。　
　〃Is　that　what's　going　to　kill　us；　Jim？　Something　that　opens　a　door　in　the　sand；　sucks　us　down；　something　from　a　movie　to　give　ten…year…old　boys　nightmares？〃　Twenty　feet　away。　
　Jim　was　sweating；　shuddering。　He　seemed　to　be　beyond　hearing　anything　Holly　said。　
　She　shouted　in　his　face　anyway：　〃Are　you　going　to　kill　me　and　yourself；　suicide　like　Larry　Kakonis；　just　stop　being　strong　and　put　an　end　to　it；　let　one　of　your　own　nightmares　pull　you　in　the　ground？〃　Ten　feet。　
　Eight。　
　〃Jim！〃　Six。　
　Four。　
　Hearing　a　monstrous　grinding　of　jaws　in　the　ground　under　them；　she　raised　her　foot；　rammed　the　heel　of　her　shoe　down　across　the　front　of　his　shin；　as　hard　as　she　could；　to　make　him　feel　it　through　his　sock。　
　Jim　cried　out　in　pain　as　the　ground　shifted　under　them；　and　Holly　looked　down　in　horror　at　the　rupturing　earth。　But　the　burrowing　stopped　simultaneously　with　his　sharp　cry。　The　ground　didn't　open。　Nothing　erupted　from　it　or　sucked　them　down。　
　Shaking；　Holly　stepped　back　from　the　ripped　sod　and　cracked　earth　on　which　she　had　been　standing。　
　Jim　looked　at　her；　aghast。　〃It　wasn't　me。　It　can't　have　been。〃　
　Back　in　the　car；　Jim　slumped　in　his　seat。　
　Holly　folded　her　arms　on　the　steering　wheel；　put　her　forehead　on　her　arms。　
　He　looked　out　the　side　window　at　the　park。　The　giant　mole　trail　was　still　there。　The　sidewalk　was　cracked　and　tumbled。　The　bench　lay　on　its　side。　
　He　just　couldn't　believe　that　the　thing　beneath　the　park　had　been　only　a　figment　of　his　imagination；　empowered　only　by　his　mind。　He　had　been　in　control　of　himself　all　his　life；　living　a　Spartan　existence　of　books　and　work；　with　no　vices　or　indulgences。　（Except　a　frighteningly　convenient　forgetfulness；　he　thought　sourly。）　Nothing　about　Holly's　theory　was　harder　for　him　to　accept　than　that　a　wild　and　savage　part　of　him；　beyond　his　conscious　control；　was　the　only　real　danger　that　they　faced。　
　He　was　beyond　ordinary　fear　now。　He　was　no　longer　perspiring　or　shivering。　He　was　in　the　grip　of　a　primal　terror　that　left　him　rigid　and　DryIce　dry。　
　〃It　wasn't　me；〃　he　repeated。　
　〃Yes；　it　was。〃　Considering　that　she　believed　he'd　almost　killed　her　Holly　was　surprisingly　gentle　with　him。　She　did　not　raise　her　voice；　it　was　softened　by　a　note　of　great　tenderness。　
　He　said；　〃You're　still　on　this　split…personality　kick。〃　
　〃Yes。〃　
　〃So　it　was　my　dark　side。〃　
　〃Yes。〃　
　〃Embodied　in　a　giant　worm　or　something；〃　he　said；　trying　to　hone　a　sharp　edge　on　his　sarcasm；　failing。　〃But　you　said　The　Enemy　only　broke　through　when　I　was　sleeping；　and　I　wasn't　sleeping；　so　even　if　I　am　The　Enemy；　how　could　I　have　been　that　thing　in　the　park？〃　〃New　rules。　Subconsciously；　you're　getting　desperate。　You're　not　able　to　control　that　personality　as　easily　as　before。　The　closer　you're　forced　to　the　truth；　the　more　aggressive　The　Enemy's　going　to　bee　in　order　to　defend　itself〃　〃If　it　was　me；　why　wasn't　there　an　alien　heartbeat　like　before？〃　〃That's　always　just　been　a　dramatic　effect；　like　the　bells　ringing　before　The　Friend　put　in　an　appearance。〃　She　raised　her　head　from　her　arms　and　looked　at　him。　〃You　dropped　it　because　there　wasn't　time　for　it。　I　was　reading　that　plaque；　and　you　wanted　to　stop　me　as　fast　as　you　could。　You　needed　a　distraction。　Let　me　tell　you；　babe；　it　was　a　lulu。〃　
　He　looked　out　the　window　again；　toward　the　windmill　and　the　lectern　that　held　the　information　about　The　Black　Windmill。　
　Holly　put　a　hand　on　his　shoulder。　〃You　were　in　a　black　despair　after　your　parents　died。　You　needed　to　escape。　Evidently　a　writer　named　Arthur　Willott　provided　you　with　a　fantasy　that　fit　your　needs　perfectly。　To　one　extent　or　another；　you've　been　living　in　it　ever　since。〃　
　Though　he　could　not　admit　it　to　her；　he　had　to　admit　to　himself　that　he　was　groping　toward　understanding；　that　he　was　on　the　brink　of　seeing　his　past　from　a　new　perspective　that　would　make　all　of　the　mysterious　lines　and　angles　fall　into　a　new　and　prehensible　shape。　
　If　selective　amnesia；　carefully　constructed　false　memories；　and　even　multiple　personalities　were　not　indications　of　madness　but　only　the　hooks　he　had　used　to　hold　on　to　sanity…as　Holly　insisted…then　what　would　happen　to　him　if　he　let　go　of　those　hooks？　If　he　dug　up　the　truth　about　his　past；　faced　the　things　he　had　refused　to　face　when　he　had　turned　to　fantasy　as　a　child；　would　the　truth　drive　him　mad　this　time？　What　was　he　hiding　from？　〃Listen；〃　she　said；　〃the　important　thing　is　that　you　shut　it　down　before　it　reached　us；　before　it　did　any　harm。〃　
　〃My　shin　hurts　like　hell；〃　he　said；　wincing。　
　〃Good；〃　she　said　brightly。　
　She　started　the　engine。　
　〃Where　are　we　going　now？〃　he　asked。　
　〃Where　else？　The　library。〃　
　Holly　parked　on　Copenhagen　Lane　in　front　of　the　small　Victorian　house　that　served　as　the　New　Svenborg　library。　
　She　was　pleased　that　her　hands　were　not　shaking；　that　her　voice　was　level　and　calm；　and　that　she　had　been　able　to　drive　from　Tivoli　Gardens　without　weaving　all　over　the　road。　After　the　incident　in　the　park；　she　was　amazed　that　her　pants　were　still　clean。　She　had　been　reduced　to　raw　terror　…a　pure；　intense　emotion　untainted　by　any　other。　
　Diluted　now；　it　was　still　with　her；　and　she　knew　it　would　remain　with　her　until　they　were　out　of　these　spooky　old　woods…or　dead。　But　she　was　determined　not　to　reveal　the　depth　of　her　fear　to　Jim；　because　he　had　to　be　worse　off　than　she　was。　
　After　all；　it　was　his　life　that　was　turning　out　to　be　a　collage　of　flimsy　lies。　
　He　needed　to　lean　on　her。　
　As　she　and　Jim　went　up　the　front　walk　to　the　porch　（Jim　limping）；　Holly　noticed　he　was　studying　the　lawn　around　him；　as　if　he　thought　something　might　start　burrowing　toward　them。　
　Better　not；　she　thought；　or　you'll　have　two　bleeding　shins。　
　But　as　she　went　through　the　front　door；　she　wondered　if　a　jolt　of　pain　would　work　a　second　time。　
　In　the　paneled　foyer；　a　sign　announced　NONFICTION　SECOND　FLOOR。　An　arrow　pointed　to　a　staircase　on　her　right。　
　The　foyer　funneled　into　a　first…floor　hallway　off　which　lay　two　large　rooms。　Both　were　filled　with　bookshelves。　The　chamber　on　the　left　also　contained　reading　tables　with　chairs　and　a　large　oak　desk。　
　The　woman　at　the　desk　was　a　good　advertisement　for　country　living　flawless　plexion；　lustrous　chestnut　hair；　clear　hazel　eyes。　She　looked　thirty…five　but　was　probably　twelve　years　older。　
　The　nameplate　in　front　Of　her　said　ELOISE　GLYNN。　
　Yesterday；　when　Holly　had　wanted　to　e　into　the　library　to　see　if　the　much…admired　Mrs。　Glynn　was　there；　Jim　had　insisted　that　she　would　be　retired；　that　she　had　been　〃quite　old〃　twenty…five　years　ago；　when　in　fact　she　obviously　had　been　fresh　out　of　college　and　starting　her　first　job。　
　By　parison　with　previous　discoveries；　this　was　only　a　minor　surprise。　
　Jim　hadn't　wanted　Holly　to　e　into