pzb.drawingblood-第42部分

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　　〃Well；　I　don't　think　Kinsey　believes　me。　But　that's　what　I　told　them；　yeah。〃
　　〃You　want　to　talk　about　it？〃
　　〃Could　we　get　in　the　car　first？〃
　　〃Sure。〃　Trevor　reached　for　the　keys；　and　Zach　surrendered　them　without　argument。　〃We　ought　to　get　going　anyway；　before　those　rednecks　decide　to　e　back　and　kick　our　asses。〃
　　Zach　laughed。　〃Hell；　if　they　did；　Kinsey　could　just　e　out　brandishing　his　casserole　and　scare　'em　off。〃
　　
　　Trevor　got　a　feel　for　the　Mustang　quickly。　He　had　once　had　a　brief　job　driving　cars　from　place　to　place；　reasons　unspecified　and　questions　not　encouraged　by　the　management。　Most　of　them　had　been　scary　old　junkers　or　boring　Japanese　cracker…boxes；　but　this　car　was　fun　to　drive。　Its　engine　was　loud　but　smooth；　and　its　wheels　chewed　up　the　road　like　a　vicious　little　wildcat　worrying　a　blacksnake。
　　There　was　a　sour　taste　in　his　mouth　like　fruit　juice　gone　bad；　the　ghost　of　Zach's　recycled　wine。　To　Trevor　it　wasn't　much　different　from　having　the　flavor　of　Zach's　sweat　or　spit　or　e　on　his　lips。　If　you　loved　someone；　he　thought；　you　should　know　their　body　inside　and　out。　You　should　be　willing　to　taste　it；　breathe　it；　wallow　in　it。
　　He　got　off　Kinsey's　road；　found　his　way　to　the　highway；　then　took　a　side　road　that　wandered　off　into　the　country。
　　〃I　like　the　way　you　drive；〃　said　Zach。
　　〃What　do　you　mean？〃
　　〃Fast。〃
　　〃Just　talk　to　me。〃
　　〃It　has　to　do　with　puters；〃　Zach　warned。
　　〃I　figured　as　much；〃　Trevor　said　darkly。
　　They　drove　for　an　hour　or　more　around　the　outskirts　of　Missing　Mile；　past　dark　fields；　deserted　churches　and　railroad　crossings；　small　neat　houses　lit　warm　against　the　night。　They　passed　the　occasional　bright　store　or　honkytonk　joint；　swerved　to　miss　the　occasional　wet　splay　of　roadkill　on　the　hot　blacktop。
　　Zach　told　his　tale　without　interruption　from　Trevor；　save　for　an　occasional　question。　When　he　finished；　Trevor's　brain　was　spinning　with　unfamiliar　terminology；　with　arcane　concepts　he　had　never　believed　possible；　but　many　of　which　Zach　claimed　he　had　already　done。
　　〃You　mean　you　could　get　information　about　anybody…　and　change　it？　Could　you　get　information　about　me？〃
　　〃Sure。〃
　　〃How？〃
　　〃Well；　let's　see。〃　Zach　ticked　off　possibilities　on　his　fingers。　〃Do　you　have　any　credit　cards？〃
　　〃No。〃
　　〃Ever　had　a　phone　in　your　name？〃
　　〃No。〃
　　〃How　about　a　police　record？〃
　　〃Well　。　。　。　yeah。〃　Trevor　shuddered　at　the　memory。　〃I　got　picked　up　for　vagrancy　once　in　Georgia。　Spent　the　night　in　jail。〃
　　〃I　could　get　that　easy。　Erase　it；　too。　With　your　Social　Security　number　I　could　probably　get　your　school　and　social…services　records。　And　your　standing　with　the　IRS；　of　course。〃
　　〃I　doubt　the　IRS　has　ever　heard　of　me。〃
　　Zach　laughed　softly。　〃Don't　bet　on　it；　boyfriend。〃
　　They　took　a　roundabout　route　back　to　Violin　Road。　By　the　time　Trevor　parked　the　car　behind　the　house；　it　felt　very　late。　The　clouds　had　blown　over　and　the　sky　was　a　brilliant　inverted　bowl　of　stars。　Zach　saw　the　Big　Dipper；　the　Little　Dipper；　and　the　faint　soft　skirl　of　the　Milky　Way；　which　pretty　much　exhausted　his　store　of　astronomical　knowledge。　But　he　stared　up　into　the　universe　until　he　was　dizzy　with　infinity；　and　he　thought　he　could　see　the　great　bowl　slowly　revolving　around　them；　order　born　of　chaos；　meaning　born　of　void。
　　They　pushed　their　way　through　the　vines　and　entered　the　dark　living　room。　The　house　felt　very　calm　and　still。　Even　the　doorway　to　the　hall　had　gone　neutral。　It　was　as　if　some　charge　had　been　switched　off；　as　if　some　current　had　been　interrupted；　though　the　lights　still　worked。　They　brushed　their　teeth　in　the　kitchen　sink；　fitted　the　sheets　from　Potter's　Store　onto　the　mattress　in　Trevor's　room；　undressed　and　lay　together　in　the　restful　dark；　their　heads　touching　on　the　single　pillow；　their　hands　loosely　joined。
　　〃So　I　might　bring　ghosts　into　your　Me；〃　Trevor　mused；　〃and　you　might　bring　feds　into　mine。〃
　　〃I　guess　so。〃
　　Trevor　thought　about　it。　〃I　believe　I'd　take　my　chances　with　the　ghosts　if　I　were　you。〃
　　〃I　was　hoping　you'd　say　that。〃
　　And　I　guess　I'll　take　my　chances　with　the　long　arm　of　the　law；　Trevor　thought　as　he　rolled　over　and　fitted　himself　into　the　curve　of　Zach's　body。　Harboring　a　fugitive　is　bad　enough…　they　probably　have　a　special　punishment　if　you　fall　in　love　with　one。　He　found　that　the　idea　of　mitting　a　federal　crime　didn't　faze　him　much。　The　thought　of　being　in　love　still　seemed　far　stranger。
　　Zach　had　broken　all　kinds　of　laws；　he　supposed；　but　Trevor　had　never　had　much　regard　for　laws。　Few　of　them　made　sense　to　him；　and　none　of　them　worked　worth　a　shit。　He　had　managed　to　avoid　breaking　them　very　often　simply　because　he　didn't　have　many　bad　habits；　and　most　of　the　ones　he　did　have　happened　to　be　legal。　But　if　any　suit…wearing；　mirrorshaded　zombie　dared　touch　a　hair　on　Zach's　head；　or　set　foot　inside　the　boundaries　of　Birdland　。。。
　　Trevor　didn't　know　what　might　happen　then。　But　he　thought　there　would　be　great　damage　and　pain。　After　all；　this　house　had　tasted　blood　before；　had　tasted　it　again　today。
　　He　thought　it　might　be　getting　a　taste　for　the　stuff。
　　
　　Somewhere　in　the　hazy　zone　between　night　and　morning；　Zach　opened　his　eyes　a　crack　and　squinted　into　the　darkness。　He　had　no　real　sense　of　the　room　around　him；　of　where　he　was　at　all。　He　only　knew　that　he　was　still　mostly　asleep　and　about　half…drunk；　that　his　head　was　throbbing　and　his　bladder　was　painfully　full。
　　He　pushed　himself　off　the　mattress　and　stumbled　into　the　hall。　At　the　end　of　it　a　soft　light　glowed　like　a　beacon。　All　he　had　to　do　was　make　his　way　to　that　light　and　relieve　himself；　then　he　could　fall　back　into　bed　and　sleep　until　the　headache　was　gone。
　　Zach　shuffled　down　the　hall　naked　and　barefooted；　trailing　a　hand　along　the　wall　for　balance；　and　entered　the　bathroom。　One　of　the　forty…watt　bulbs　in　the　ceiling　fixture　buzzed　fitfully；　giving　off　a　dim；　flickering　light。　He　stepped　up　to　the　toilet　bowl　and　urinated　into　the　small　pool　of　dark　muddy…looking　water。　The　sound　of　his　pee　hitting　the　stained　porcelain　seemed　very　loud　in　the　silent　house；　and　he　hoped　he　wouldn't　wake　Trevor。
　　Trevor　。　。　。　asleep　in　the　next　room；　in　Birdland　。　。　。
　　Zach　was　suddenly　wide　awake　and　very　conscious　of　where　he　was。　His　stream　of　urine　dried　up。　As　he　let　go　of　his　dick　he　felt　a　single　warm　drop　slide　down　his　thigh。　The　ghost　of　cheap　red　wine　still　swirled　in　his　brain；　making　him　dizzy；　making　him　aware　of　just　how　easy　it　would　be　to　panic。
　　But　there　was　no　need。　All　he　had　to　do　was　turn；　step　away　from　the　toilet；　and…and　he　knew　he　hadn't　shut　the　door　behind　him　when　he　came　in。
　　Though　he　had　been　mostly　asleep；　he　remembered　groping　past　it；　hearing　the　knob　rattle　against　the　wall。　The　hinges　were　caked　with　rust　and　could　not　have　closed　silently。　But　though　Zach　had　heard　nothing；　the　door　was　now　shut　tight。
　　He　swallowed；　felt　his　throat　click　dryly。
　　Well；　you　live　in　a　haunted　house；　you're　going　to　have　doors　shutting　themselves　once　in　a　while。　But　that　doesn't　mean　anything　in　here　can　hurt　you。　All　you　have　to　do　is　walk　over　and　turn　the　knob　and　you're　out　of　here。
　　（and　don't　look　at　the　tub）
　　That　last　thought　came　unbidden。　Zach　threw　himself　at　the　door；　clawed　at　the　knob。　It　slipped　through　his　fingers　and　he　realized　that　his　hands　were　slick　with　sweat。　He　wiped　them　on　his　bare　chest　and　made　himself　try　again。　The　knob　would　not　turn；　would　not　even　rattle　in　its　moorings。　It　was　as　if　the　workings　of　the　lock　had　fused。
　　Or　as　if　something　were　holding　the　door　shut　from　the　other　side。
　　He　yanked　at　the　door　with　all　his　strength。　Though　he　could　feel　the　old　wood　bowing　inward；　nothing　gave。　He　wondered　what　would　happen　if　he　managed　to　tear　the　knob　clean　out　of　the　door。　If　there　was　something　in　the　hall；　would　it　e　rushing　in　through　the　hole　and　engulf　him？
　　Zach　let　go　of　the　knob　and　stared　around　the　bathroom。　The　ancient　linoleum　had　begun　to　curl　at　the　corners；　exposing　the　rotting　wood　beneath。　The　peeling　paint　was　streaked　from　ceiling　to　floor　with　long　rusty　watermarks。　The　bare　shower　curtain　rod　was　cruelly　bowed；　the　bottom　of　the　tub　glazed　with　a　thin　layer　of　filth；　the　black　hole　of　the　drain　ringed　in　green　mold。　He　thought　of　pounding　on　the　wall；　trying　to　wake　Trevor　to　e　get　him　out　of　here；　but　the　tub　was　set　into　the　wall　that　adjoined　their　room。　He　would　have　to　lean　way　over　it；　or　climb　right　in。
　　He　looked　quickly　away　from　the　tub；　and　his　gaze　fell　on　the　mirror　over　the　sink。　It　reflected　his　own　pale　sweaty　face；　his　own　wide　scared　eyes；　but　Zach　thought　he　saw　something　else　in　there　too。　Some　subtle　movement；　a　rippling　in　the　surface　of　the　glass　itself；　a　strange　sparkling　in　its　depths　as　if　the　glass　were　a　silver　vortex　trying　to　draw　him　in。
　　Frowning；　he　moved　closer。　The　cold　lip　of　the　sink　pushed　against　his　lower　belly。　Zach　leaned　closer　until　his　forehead　was　nearly　touching　the　glass。　It　occurred　to　him　that　the　mirror　could　simply　explode　outward；　burying　razor…shards　of　glass　in　his　face；　his　eyes；　his　brain。
　　Part　of　his　mind　was　cowering；　gibbering；　begging　him　to　get　away。　But　part　of　him…the　larger　part…had　to　know。
　　One　of　the　taps　twisted　on。
　　Hot　liquid　gushed　into　the　sink；　splashed　up　onto　his　belly；　his　chest；　his　hands　and　arms。　Zach　jumped　back；　looked　down　at　himself；　and　felt　his　well…trained　gag　reflex　try　to　trigger　for　the　second　time　that　night。
　　He　was　covered　with　dark　streaks　and　splotches　of　the　blood　that　was　still　globbing　out　of　the　faucet；　pooling　in　the　sink。　But　this　was　no　fresh　vivid　crimson　like　the　blood　from　his　lip　yesterday。　This　blood　was　thick　and　rank；　already　half…clotted。　Its　color　was　the　red…black　of　a　scab；　and　it　stank　of　decaying　meat。
　　As　he　watched；　the　other　tap　turned　slowly　on。　A　second　fluid　began　to　mingle　with　the　rotting　blood；　a　thinner　fluid；　viscous　and　milky…white。　The　odor　of　decay　was　suddenly　laced　with　the　raw　fresh　smell　of　semen。　As　they　came　out　of　the　faucet；　the　two　streams　twisted　together　like　some　sort　of　devil's　candy　cane；　red　and　white　（and　Black　all　over　。　。　。　wouldn't