sk.runningman-第23部分

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hortly。　The　gas…driven　ground　cars　were　nearly　three　times　faster　than　air　drive。　And　if　an　air　car　tried　to　go　too　far　off　the　road；　the　uneven　surface　beneath　the　thrusters　would　flip　the　car　over；　as　Parrakis　had　nearly　flipped　them　crossing　the　curb。
　　〃Turn　right！〃　Richards　cried。
　　Parrakis　pulled　them　around　in　another　grinding；　stomach…lurching　turn。　They　were　on　Route　1；　ahead；　Richards　could　see　that　they　would　soon　be　forced　up　the　entranceway　to　the　Coast　Turnpike。　No　evasive　action　would　be　possible　there；　only　death　would　be　possible　there。
　　〃Turn　off！　Turn　off；　goddammit！　That　alley！〃　For　a　moment；　the　police　car　was　one　turn　behind　them；　lost　from　view。
　　〃NO！　No！〃　Parrakis　was　gibbering　now。　〃We'll　be　like　rats　in　a　trap！〃
　　Richards　leaned　over　and　hauled　the　wheel　around；　knocking　Elton's　hand　from　the　throttle　with　the　same　gesture。　The　air　car　skidded　around　in　a　nearly　ninety…degree　turn。　They　bounced　off　the　concrete　of　the　building　on　the　left　of　the　alley's　mouth；　sending　them　in　at　a　crooked　angle。　The　blunt　nose　of　the　car　struck　a　pile　of　heaped　trash；　garbage　cans；　and　splintered　crates。　Behind　these；　solid　brick。
　　Richards　was　pitched　violently　into　the　dashboard　as　they　crashed；　and　his　nose　broke　with　a　sudden　snap；　gushing　blood　with　violent　force。
　　The　air　car　lay　askew　in　the　alley；　one　cylinder　still　coughing　a　little。　Parrakis　was　a　silent　lump　lolling　over　the　steering　wheel。　There　was　no　time　for　him　yet。
　　Richards　slammed　his　shoulder　against　the　crimped　passenger　door。　It　popped　open；　and　he　hopped　on　one　leg　to　the　mouth　of　the　alley。　He　reloaded　his　gun　from　the　crumpled　box　of　shells　Bradley　had　supplied　him　with。　They　were　greasy…cool　to　the　touch。　He　dropped　some　of　them　around　his　feet。　His　arm　had　begun　to　throb　like　an　ulcerated　tooth；　making　him　feel　sick　and　nauseated　with　pain。
　　Headlights　turned　the　deserted　city　expressway　from　night　to　sunless　day。　The　cruiser　skidded　around　the　turn；　rear　tires　fighting　for　traction；　sending　up　the　fragrant　smell　of　seared　rubber。　Looping　black　marks　scored　the　expansion　joint　macadam　in　parabolas。　Then　it　was　leaping　forward　again。　Richards　held　the　gun　in　both　hands；　leaning　against　the　building　to　his　left。　In　a　moment　they　would　realize　they　could　see　no　taillights　ahead。　The　cop　riding　shotgun　would　see　the　alley；　know…
　　Snuffling　blood　through　his　broken　nose；　he　began　to　fire。　The　range　was　nearly　pointblank；　and　at　this　distance；　the　high…powered　slugs　smashed　through　the　bulletproof　glass　as　if　it　had　been　paper。　Each　recoil　of　the　heavy　pistol　pulsed　through　his　wounded　arm；　making　him　scream。
　　The　car　roared　up　over　the　curb；　flew　a　short；　wingless　distance；　and　crashed　into　the　blank　brick　wall　across　the　street。　ECHO　FREE…VEE　REPAIR；　a　faded　sign　on　this　wall　read。　BECAUSE　YOU　WATCH　IT；　WE　WON'T　BOTCH　IT。
　　The　police　car；　still　a　foot　above　the　ground；　met　the　brick　wall　at　high　speed　and　exploded。
　　But　others　were　ing；　always　others。
　　Panting；　Richards　made　his　way　back　to　the　air　car。　His　good　leg　was　very　tired。
　　〃I'm　hurt；〃　Parrakis　was　groaning　hollowly。　〃I'm　hurt　so　bad。　Where's　Mom？　Where's　my　Momma？〃
　　Richards　fell　on　his　knees；　wriggled　under　the　air　car　on　his　back；　and　began　to　pull　trash　and　debris　from　the　air　chambers　like　a　madman。　Blood　ran　down　his　cheeks　from　his　ruptured　nose　and　pooled　beside　his　ears。
　　
　　Minus　048　and　COUNTING
　　The　car　would　only　run　on　five　of　its　six　cylinders；　and　it　would　go　no　faster　than　forty；　leaning　drunkenly　to　one　side。
　　Parrakis　directed　him　from　the　passenger　seat；　where　Richards　had　manhandled　him。　The　steering　column　had　gone　into　his　abdomen　like　a　railspike；　and　Richards　thought　he　was　dying。　The　blood　on　the　dented　steering　wheel　was　warm　and　sticky　on　Richards's　palms。
　　〃I'm　very　sorry；〃　Parrakis　said。　〃Turn　left　here　。　。　。　It's　really　my　fault。　I　should　have　known　better。　She　。　。　。　she　doesn't　think　straight。　She　doesn't　。　。　。〃　He　coughed　up　a　glut　of　black　blood　and　spat　it　listlessly　into　his　lap。　The　sirens　filled　the　night；　but　they　were　far　behind　and　off　to　the　west。　They　had　gone　out　Marginal　Way；　and　from　there　Parrakis　had　directed　him　onto　back　roads。　Now　they　were　on　Route　9　going　north；　and　the　Portland　suburbs　were　petering　out　into　October…barren　scrub　countryside。　The　strip　lumberers　had　been　through　like　locusts；　and　the　end　result　was　a　bewildering　tangle　of　second　growth　and　marsh。
　　〃Do　you　know　where　you're　telling　me　to　go？〃　Richards　asked。　He　was　a　huge　brand　of　pain　from　one　end　to　the　other。　He　was　quite　sure　his　ankle　was　broken；　there　was　no　doubt　at　all　about　his　nose。　His　breath　came　through　it　in　flattened　gasps。
　　〃To　a　place　I　know；〃　Elton　Parrakis　said；　and　coughed　up　more　blood。　〃She　used　to　tell　me　a　boy's　best　friend　is　his　Mom。　Can　you　believe　that？　I　used　to　believe　it。　Will　they　hurt　her？　Take　her　to　jail？〃
　　〃No；〃　Richards　said　shortly；　not　knowing　if　they　would　or　not。　It　was　twenty　minutes　of　eight。　He　and　Elton　had　left　the　Blue　Door　at　ten　minutes　past　seven。　It　seemed　as　if　decades　had　passed。
　　A　far　distance　off；　more　sirens　were　joining　in　the　general　chorus。　The　unspeakable　in　pursuit　of　the　inedible；　Richards　thought　disjointedly。　If　you　can't　stand　the　heat；　get　out　of　the　kitchen。　He　had　dispatched　two　police　cars　singlehanded。　Another　bonus　for　Sheila。　Blood　money。　And　Cathy。　Would　Cathy　sicken　and　die　on　milk　paid　for　with　bounty　cash？　How　are　you；　my　darlings？　I　love　you。　Here　on　this　twisting；　crazy　back　road　fit　only　for　deer　jackers　and　couples　looking　for　a　good　make…out　spot；　I　love　you　and　wish　that　your　dreams　be　sweet。　I　wish…
　　〃Turn　left；〃　Elton　croaked。
　　Richards　swung　left　up　a　smooth　tarred　road　that　cut　through　a　tangle　of　denuded　sumac　and　elm；　pine　and　spruce；　scrubby　nightmare　second　growth。　A　river；　ripe　and　sulphurous　with　industrial　waste；　smote　his　nose。　Low…hanging　branches　scraped　the　roof　of　the　car　with　skeleton　screeches。　They　passed　a　sign　which　read：　SUPER　PINE　TREE　MALL…UNDER　CONSTRUCTION…KEEP　OUT！TRESPASSERS　WILL　BE　PROSECUTED！！
　　They　topped　a　final　rise　and　there　was　the　Super　Pine　Tree　Mall。　Work　must　have　stopped　at　least　two　years　ago；　Richards　thought；　and　things　hadn't　been　too　advanced　when　it　did。　The　place　was　a　maze；　a　rat　warren　of　half…built　stores　and　shops；　discarded　lengths　of　pipe；　piles　of　cinderblock　and　boards；　shacks　and　rusted　Quonset　huts；　all　overgrown　with　scrubby　junipers　and　laurels　and　witch…grass　and　blue　spruce；　blackberry　and　blackthorn；　devil's　paintbrush　and　denuded　goldenrod。　And　it　stretched　on　for　miles。　Gaping　oblong　foundation　holes　like　graves　dug　for　Roman　gods。　Rusted　skeleton　steel。　Cement　walls　with　steel　core…rods　protruding　like　shadowy　cryptograms。　Bulldozed　oblongs　that　were　to　be　parking　lots　now　grassed　over。
　　Somewhere　overhead；　an　owl　flew　on　stiff　and　noiseless　wings；　hunting。
　　〃Help　me　。　。　。　into　the　driver's　seat。〃
　　〃You're　in　no　condition　to　drive；〃　Richards　said；　pushing　hard　on　his　door　to　open　it。
　　〃It's　the　least　I　can　do；〃　Elton　Parrakis　said　with　grave　and　bloody　absurdity。　〃I'll　play　hare　。　。　。　drive　as　long　as　I　can。〃
　　〃No；〃　Richards　said。
　　〃Let　me　go！　〃　He　screamed　at　Richards；　his　fat　baby　face　terrible　and　grotesque。　〃I'm　dying　and　you　just　better　let　me　guh…guh…guh…〃　He　trailed　off　into　hideous　silent　coughs　that　brought　up　fresh　gouts　of　blood。　It　smelled　very　moist　in　the　car；　like　a　slaughterhouse。　〃Help　me；〃　he　whispered。　〃I'm　too　fat　to　do　it　by　myself。　Oh　God　please　help　me　do　this。〃
　　Richards　helped　him。　He　pushed　and　heaved　and　his　hands　slipped　and　squelched　in　Elton's　blood。　The　front　seat　was　an　abbatoir。　And　Elton　（who　would　have　thought　anyone　could　have　so　much　blood　in　him？）　continued　to　bleed。
　　Then　he　was　wedged　behind　the　wheel　and　the　air　car　was　rising　jaggedly；　turning。　The　brake　lights　blinked　on　and　off；　on　and　off；　and　the　car　bunted　at　trees　lightly　before　Elton　found　the　road　out。
　　Richards　thought　he　would　hear　the　crash；　but　there　was　none。　The　erratic　thumps…thumps…thumps　of　the　air　cylinders　grew　fainter；　beating　in　the　deadly　one…cylinder…flat　rhythm　that　would　burn　out　the　others　in　an　hour　or　so。　The　sound　faded。　Then　there　was　no　sound　at　all　but　the　faraway　buzz　of　a　plane。　Richards　realized　belatedly　that　he　had　left　the　crutches　he　had　purchased　for　disguise　purposes　in　the　back　of　the　car。
　　The　constellations　whirled　indifferently　overhead。
　　He　could　see　his　breath　in　small；　frozen　puffs；　it　was　colder　tonight。
　　He　turned　from　the　road　and　plunged　into　the　jungle　of　the　construction　site。
　　
　　Minus　047　and　COUNTING
　　He　spied　a　pile　of　cast…off　insulation　lying　in　the　bottom　of　a　cellar　hole　and　climbed　down；　using　the　protruding　core　rods　for　handholds。　He　found　a　stick　and　pounded　the　insulation　to　scare　out　the　rats。　He　was　rewarded　with　nothing　but　a　thick；　fibrous　dust　that　made　him　sneeze　and　yelp　with　the　pain…burst　in　his　badly　used　nose。　No　rats。　All　the　rats　were　in　the　city。　He　uttered　a　harsh　bray　of　laughter　that　sounded　jagged　and　splintered　in　the　big　dark。
　　He　wrapped　himself　in　strips　of　the　insulation　until　he　looked　like　a　human　igloo…but　it　was　warm。　He　leaned　back　against　the　wall　and　fell　into　a　half…doze。
　　When　he　roused　fully；　a　late　moon；　no　more　than　a　cold　scrap　of　light；　hung　over　the　eastern　horizon。　He　was　still　alone。　There　were　no　sirens。　It　might　have　been　three　o'clock。
　　His　arm　throbbed　uneasily；　but　the　flow　of　blood　had　stopped　on　its　own；　he　saw　this　after　pulling　the　arm　out　of　the　insulation　and　brushing　the　fibers　gently　away　from　the　clot。　The　Sten　gun　bullet　had　apparently　ripped　a　fairly　large　triangular　hunk　of　meat　from　the　side　of　his　arm　just　above　the　elbow。　He　supposed　he　was　lucky　that　the　bullet　hadn't　smashed　the　bone。　But　his　ankle　throbbed　with　a　steady；　deep　ache。　The　foot　itself　felt　strange　and　ethereal；　barely　attached。　He　supposed　the　break　should　be　splinted。
　　Supposing；　he　dozed　again。
　　When　he　woke；　his　head　was　clearer。　The　moon　had　risen　halfway　up　in　the　sky；　but　there　was　still　no　sign　of　dawn；　true　or　false。　He　was　forgetting　something…
　　It　came　to　him