sk.runningman-第18部分

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ered　half　coherently）　was　about　to　crawl　right　into　the　trunk　with　him。
　　The　door　slammed。　Feet　walked　around　to　the　back　of　the　car。　Richards　licked　his　lips　and　held　the　gun　tighter。　Visions　of　dead　policemen　gibbered　before　him；　angelic　faces　on　twisted；　porcine　bodies。　He　wondered　if　the　cop　would　hose　him　with　machine…gun　bullets　when　he　opened　the　trunk　and　saw　Richards　lying　here　like　a　curled…up　salamander。　He　wondered　if　Bradley　would　take　off；　try　to　run。　He　was　going　to　piss　himself。　He　hadn't　done　that　since　he　was　a　kid　and　his　brother　would　tickle　him　until　his　bladder　let　go。　Yes；　all　those　muscles　down　there　were　loosening。　He　would　put　the　bullet　right　at　the　juncture　of　the　cop's　nose　and　forehead；　splattering　brains　and　splintered　skull…fragments　in　startled　streamers　to　the　sky。　Make　a　few　more　orphans。　Yes。　Good。　Jesus　loves　me；　this　I　know；　for　my　bladder　tells　me　so。　Christ　Jesus；　what's　he　doing；　ripping　the　seat　out？　Sheila；　I　love　you　so　much　and　how　far　will　six　grand　take　you？　A　year；　maybe；　if　they　don't　kill　you　for　it。　Then　on　the　street　again；　up　and　down；　cross　on　the　corner；　swinging　the　hips；　flirting　with　the　empty　pocketbook。　Hey　mister；　I　go　down；　this　is　clean　kitty；　kid；　teach　you　how…
　　A　hand　whacked　the　top　of　the　trunk　casually　in　passing。　Richards　bit　back　a　scream。　Dust　in　his　nostrils；　throat　tickling。　High　school　biology；　sitting　in　the　back　row；　scratching　his　initials　and　Sheila's　on　the　ancient　desk…top：　The　sneeze　is　a　function　of　the　involuntary　muscles。　I'm　going　to　sneeze　my　goddam　head　off　but　it's　pointblank　and　I　can　still　put　that　bullet　right　through　his　squash　and…
　　〃What's　in　the　trunk；　mister？〃
　　Bradley's　voice；　jocular；　a　little　bored：　〃A　spare　cylinder　that　doesn't　work　half　right。　I　got　the　key　on　my　ring。　Wait；　I'll　get　it。〃
　　〃If　I　wanted　it；　I'd　ask。〃
　　Other　back　door　opened；　closed。
　　〃Drive　on。〃
　　〃Hang　tight；　fella。　Hope　you　get　him。〃
　　〃Drive　on；　mister。　Move　your　ass。〃
　　The　cylinders　cranked　up。　The　car　lifted　and　accelerated。　It　slowed　once　and　must　have　been　waved　on。　Richards　jolted　a　little　as　the　car　rose；　sailed　a　little；　and　kicked　into　drive。　His　breath　came　in　tired　little　moans。　He　didn't　have　to　sneeze　any　more。
　　
　　Minus　059　and　COUNTING
　　The　ride　seemed　much　longer　than　an　hour　and　a　half；　and　they　were　stopped　twice　more。　One　of　them　seemed　to　be　a　routine　license　check。　At　the　next　one　a　drawling　cop　with　a　dull…wilted　voice　talked　to　Bradley　for　some　time　about　how　the　goddam　mie　bikers　were　helping　that　guy　Richards　and　probably　the　other　one；　too。　Laughlin　had　not　killed　anyone；　but　it　was　rumored　that　he　had　raped　a　woman　in　Topeka。
　　After　that　there　was　nothing　but　the　monotonous　whine　of　the　wind　and　the　scream　of　his　own　cramped　and　frozen　muscles。　Richards　did　not　sleep；　but　his　punished　mind　did　finally　push　him　into　a　dazed　semi…consciousness。　There　was　no　carbon　monoxide　with　the　air　cars；　thank　God　for　that。
　　Centuries　after　the　last　roadblock；　the　car　kicked　into　a　lower　gear　and　banked　up　a　spiraling　exit　ramp。　Richards　blinked　sluggishly　and　wondered　if　he　was　going　to　throw　up。　For　the　first　time　in　his　life　he　felt　carsick。
　　They　went　through　a　sickening　series　of　loops　and　dives　that　Richards　supposed　was　a　traffic　interchange。　Another　five　minutes　and　city　sounds　took　over　again。　Richards　tried　repeatedly　to　shift　his　body　into　a　new　position；　but　it　was　impossible。　He　finally　subsided；　waiting　numbly　for　it　to　be　over。　His　right　arm；　which　was　curled　under　him；　had　gone　to　sleep　an　hour　ago。　Now　it　felt　like　a　block　of　wood。　He　could　touch　it　w4h　the　tip　of　his　nose　and　feel　only　the　pressure　on　his　nose。
　　They　took　a　right；　went　straight　for　a　little；　then　turned　again。　The　bottom　dropped　out　of　Richards's　stomach　as　the　car　dipped　down　a　sharp　incline。　The　echoing　of　the　cylinders　told　him　that　they　were　inside。　They　had　gotten　to　the　garage…
　　A　little　helpless　sound　of　relief　escaped　him。
　　〃Got　your　check；　buddy？〃　A　voice　asked。
　　〃Right　here；　pal。〃
　　〃Rampway　5。〃
　　〃Thanks。〃
　　They　bore　right。　The　car　went　up；　paused；　turned　right　again；　then　left。　They　settled　into　idle；　then　the　car　dropped　with　a　soft　bump　as　the　engine　died。　Journey's　end。
　　There　was　a　pause；　then　the　hollow　sound　of　Bradley's　door　opening　and　closing。　His　footsteps　clicked　toward　the　trunk；　then　the　chink　of　light　in　front　of　Richards's　eyes　disappeared　as　the　key　slid　home。
　　〃You　there；　Bennie？〃
　　〃No；〃　he　croaked。　〃You　left　me　back　at　the　state　line。　Open　this　goddam　thing。〃
　　〃Just　a　second。　Place　is　empty　right　now。　Your　car's　parked　next　to　us。　On　the　right。　Can　you　get　out　quick？〃
　　〃I　don't　know。〃
　　〃Try　hard。　Here　we　go。〃
　　The　trunk　lid　popped　up；　letting　in　dim　garage　light。　Richards　got　up　on　one　arm；　got　one　leg　over　the　edge；　and　could　go　no　farther。　His　cramped　body　screamed。　Bradley　took　one　arm　and　hauled　him　out。　His　legs　wanted　to　buckle。　Bradley　hooked　him　under　the　armpit　and　half　led；　half　pushed　him　to　the　battered　green　Wint　on　the　right。　He　propped　open　the　driver's　side　door；　shoved　Richards　in；　and　slammed　it　shut。　A　moment　later　Bradley　also　slid　in。
　　〃Jesus；〃　he　said　softly。　〃We　got　here；　man。　We　got　here。〃
　　〃Yeah；〃　Richards　said。　〃Back　to　Go。　Collect　two　hundred　dollars。〃
　　They　smoked　in　the　shadows；　their　cigarettes　gleaming　like　eyes。　For　a　little　while；　neither　of　them　said　anything。
　　
　　Minus　058　and　COUNTING
　　〃We　almost　got　it　at　that　first　roadblock；〃　Bradley　was　saying　as　Richards　tried　to　massage　feeling　back　into　his　arm。　It　felt　as　if　phantom　nails　had　been　pushed　into　it。　〃That　cop　almost　opened　it。　Almost。〃　He　blew　out　smoke　in　a　huge　huff。　Richards　said　nothing。
　　〃How　do　you　feel？〃　Bradley　asked　presently。
　　〃It's　getting　better。　Take　my　wallet　out　for　me。　I　can't　make　my　arm　work　just　right　yet。〃
　　Bradley　shooed　the　words　away　with　one　hand。　〃Later。　I　want　to　tell　you　how　Rich　and　I　set　it　up。〃
　　Richards　lit　another　cigarette　from　the　stub　of　the　first。　A　dozen　charley　horses　were　loosening　slowly。
　　〃There's　a　hotel　room　reserved　for　you　on　Winthrop　Street。　The　Winthrop　House　is　the　name　of　the　place。　Sounds　fancy。　It　ain't。　The　name　is　Ogden　Grassner。　Can　you　remember　that？〃
　　〃Yes。　I'll　be　recognized　immediately。〃
　　Bradley　reached　into　the　back　seat；　got　a　box　and　dropped　it　in　Richards's　lap。　It　was　long；　brown；　tied　with　string。　To　Richards　it　looked　like　the　kind　of　box　that　rented　graduation　gowns　e　in。　He　looked　at　Bradley　questioningly。
　　〃Open　it。〃
　　He　did。　There　was　a　pair　of　thick；　blue…tinted　glasses　lying　on　top　of　a　drift　of　black　cloth。　Richards　put　the　glasses　on　the　dashboard　and　took　out　the　garment。　It　was　a　priest's　robe。　Beneath　it；　lying　on　the　bottom　of　the　box；　was　a　rosary；　a　Bible；　and　a　purple　stole。
　　〃A　priest？〃　Richards　asked。
　　〃Right。　You　change　right　here。　I'll　help　you。　There's　a　cane　in　the　back　seat。　Your　act　ain't　blind；　but　it's　pretty　close。　Bump　into　things。　You're　in　Manchester　to　attend　a　Council　of　Churches　meeting　on　drug　abuse。　Got　it？〃
　　〃Yes；〃　Richards　said。　He　hesitated；　fingers　on　the　buttons　of　his　shirt。　〃Do　I　wear　my　pants　under　this　rig？〃
　　Bradley　burst　out　laughing。
　　
　　Minus　057　and　COUNTING
　　Bradley　talked　rapidly　as　he　drove　Richards　across　town。
　　〃There's　a　box　of　gummed　mailing　labels　in　your　suitcase；〃　he　said。　〃That's　in　the　trunk。　The　stickers　say：　After　five　days　return　to　Brickhill　Manufacturing　pany；　Manchester；　N。H。　Rich　and　another　guy　ran　em　off。　They　got　a　press　at　the　Stabbers'　headquarters　on　Boylston　Street。　Every　day　you　send　your　two　tapes　to　me　in　a　box　with　one　of　those　stickers。　I'll　mail　'em　to　Games　from　Boston。　Send　the　stuff　Speed　Delivery。　That's　one　they'll　never　figure　out。〃
　　The　car　cozied　up　to　the　curb　in　front　of　the　Winthrop　House。　〃This　car　will　be　back　in　the　U…Park…It。　Don't　try　to　drive　out　of　Manchester　unless　you　change　your　disguise。　You　got　to　be　a　chameleon；　man。〃
　　〃How　long　do　you　think　it　will　be　safe　here？〃　Richards　asked。　He　thought：　I've　put　myself　in　his　hands。　It　didn't　seem　that　he　could　think　rationally　for　himself　anymore。　He　could　smell　mental　exhaustion　on　himself　like　body　odor。
　　〃Your　reservation's　for　a　week。　That　might　be　okay。　It　might　not。　Play　it　by　ear。　There's　a　name　and　an　address　in　the　suitcase。　Fella　in　Portland。　Maine。
　　They'll　hide　you　for　a　day　or　two。　It'll　cost；　but　they're　safe。　I　gotta　go；　man。　This　is　a　five…minute　zone。　Money　time。〃
　　〃How　much？〃　Richards　asked。
　　〃Six　hundred。〃
　　〃Bullshit。　That　doesn't　even　cover　expenses。〃
　　〃Yes　it　does。　With　a　few　bucks　left　over　for　the　family。〃
　　〃Take　a　thousand。〃
　　〃You　need　your　dough；　pal。　Uh…uh。〃
　　Richards　looked　at　him　helplessly。　〃Christ；　Bradley…'
　　〃Send　us　more　if　you　make　it。　Send　us　a　million。　Put　us　on　easy　street。〃
　　〃Do　you　think　I　will？〃
　　Bradley　smiled　a　soft；　sad　smile　and　said　nothing。
　　〃Then　why？〃　Richards　asked　flatly。　〃Why　are　you　doing　so　much？　I　can　understand　you　hiding　me　out。　I'd　do　that。　But　you　must　have　busted　your　club's　arm。〃
　　〃They　didn't　mind。　They　know　the　score。〃
　　〃What　score？〃
　　〃Ought　to　naught。　That　score。　If　we　doan　stick　out　our　necks　for　our　own；　they　got　us。　No　need　to　wait　for　the　air。　We　could　just　as　well　run　a　pipe　from　the　stove　to　the　livin　room；　turn　on　the　Free…Vee　and　wait。〃
　　〃Someone'll　kill　you；〃　Richards　said。　〃Someone　will　stool　on　you　and　you'll　end　up　on　a　basement　floor　with　your　guts　beat　out。　Or　Stacey。　Or　Ma。〃
　　Bradley's　eyes　flashed　dimly。　〃A　bad　day　is　in；　though。　A　bad　day　for　the　maggots　with　their　guts　full　of　roast　beef。　I　see　blood　on　the　moon　for　them。　Guns　and　torches。　A　mojo　that　walks　and　talks。〃
　　〃People　have　been　seeing　those　things　for　two　thousand　years。〃
　　The　five…minute　buzzer　went　off　and　Richards　fumbled　for　the　door　handle。　〃Thank　you；〃　he　said。　〃I　don't　know　how　to　say　it　any　other　way…〃
　　〃Go　on；〃　Bradley　said；　〃before　I　get　a　ticket。〃　A　strong　brown　hand　clutched　the　robe。　〃An　when　they　get　you；　take　a　few　along。〃
　　Richards　opened　the　rear　door　and　popped　the　trunk　to　get　the　black　satchel　insid