gns.throwback-第22部分

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ad　to　be　protected　from　the　'throwbacks'　at　all　costs　if　civilisation　was　to　survive。
　　
　　Gradually；　painstakingly；　Rod　Savage　pieced　together　an　overall　picture。　After　radio　transmission　had　petered　out；　and　his　CB　went　dead；　he　had　to　rely　on　forays　into　London　itself。　A　fugitive；　he　dodged　both　the　hate…and　fear…crazed　crowds　as　well　as　the　rescue　patrols。　The　last　thing　he　wanted　was　to　be　forcibly　hauled　out　of　here。　He　would　go　when　he　was　ready　and　not　until。
　　
　　Returning　to　his　basement　refuge　at　night　he　typed　up　his　notes　by　candlelight；　developed　the　photographs　which　he　had　taken。　One　bulging　pseudo…leather　briefcase　contained　the　whole　inside　story　and　he　slept　with　it　in　his　sleeping　bag。
　　
　　The　crowds　were　gradually　leaving　the　city；　dispersing　into　the　home　counties；　an　exodus　from　the　concrete　battlefields　where　flies　swarmed　on　the　bodies　of　the　stain；　where　the　stench　of　death　and　blood　was　overpowering。
　　
　　The　night　he　heard　them　rattling　the　door　of　his　basement　hideout；　Rod　Savage　knew　that　it　was　time　for　him　to　be　leaving；　too。　He　left　the　next　day；　moving　cautiously　along　deserted　streets；　a　fugitive　who　would　bee　a　beast　of　the　chase　if　he　was　spotted；　clutching　his　briefcase　to　him　for　he　owed　its　contents　to　the　remnants　of　a　civilised　society。　It　was　also　worth　an　awful　lot　of　money。
　　
　　It　was　towards　midday　that　he　spied　the　low…flying　helicopter；　managed　to　attract　the　pilot's　attention。　Half　an　hour　later　he　was　gratefully　breathing　in　the　fresh　sweet　Essex　air　of　Roydon；　a　picturesque　village　that　now　resembled　a　fortress；　surrounded　by　barbed…wire　fortifications　and　electric　fences；　the　houses　rehabilitation　centres　for　the　rescued；　shocked　men；　women　and　children　who　were　faced　with　the　task　of　rebuilding　society。　It　was　going　to　be　a　long　process；　perhaps　generations；　always　under　the　threat　of　attack　from　the　wild　tribes　which　inhabited　the　fields　and　hills。
　　
　　Rod　Savage　had　no　intention　of　remaining　here。　The　information　he　was　busily　gathering　was　far　from　plete。　There　was　very　little　news　of　what　was　happening　in　Wales　and　he　was　determined　to　go　back　to　his　cottage　and　find　out。　It　would　be　a　long　and　dangerous　trek；　almost　two　hundred　miles　across　terrain　as　it　might　have　been　thousands　of　years　ago；　with　death　an　everyday　occurrence。
　　
　　He　checked　his　roadmap　again；　the　area　to　the　west　of　the　Midlands　was　virtually　blank；　terra　incognita。　The　borderlands；　hiils　and　tracts　of　moorland　which　would　surely　be　teeming　with　squat　hairy　people　who　had　gone　back　in　time。　But　he　would　go　all　the　same。
　　
　　A　week　later　Rod　left　the　Roydon　camp；　a　POW　making　an　escape　bid；　for　nobody　was　allowed　to　venture　outside　the　perimeter。　He　cut　a　strand　of　barbed…wire；　crawled　on　his　stomach　for　over　a　hundred　yards；　dragging　his　briefcase　with　him。　He　had　had　second　thoughts　about　taking　it　along；　he　might　be　killed；　it　might　get　stolen；　but　nevertheless　it　was　unfinished　work；　his　work；　and；　unlike　his　Falklands　mission；　there　was　nobody　he　could　entrust　it　to。　In　all　probability　he　would　never　return　to　Roydon。　So　he　took　it　with　him。
　　
　　A　warm　moonless　night；　reaching　the　motorway　and　following　the　hard　shoulder；　ready　to　dive　into　the　undergrowth　at　the　first　sign　of　anybody　approaching。　Multiple　crashes；　the　stink　of　rotting　flesh　from　the　victims　who　had　not　been　taken　away。　Carnage；　prowling　foxes　slinking　in　to　feed　on　the　bodies　under　the　cover　of　darkness；　rats　scurrying　in　and　out　of　the　battered　vehicles。
　　
　　This　was　Britain　in　the　eighties；　the　start　of　the　apocalypse；　the　New　Stone　Age。
　　
　　
　　
　　　CHAPTER　ELEVEN
　　
　　JACKIE　COULD　not　get　the　prisoner　out　of　her　mind　that　night。　She　listened　to　Kuz's　breathing；　knew　that　he　slept　heavily。　Instinctively　she　edged　away　from　him；　afraid　of　him。　So　fierce；　so　possessive；　she　had　witnessed　his　anger　amongst　the　others；　seen　how　he　had　frightened　them　into　subservience。　They　all　lived　in　dread　of　him；　not　so　much　for　what　he　had　done　but　because　of　what　he　might　do。　There　was　no　way　of　guessing　that　until　it　happened；　and　when　it　did　she　hoped　she　wasn't　around。
　　
　　A　new　side　of　him　had　emerged　today　although　she　had　long　been　aware　of　its　existence。　Cruelty！　He　was　more　than　cruel；　sadistic；　enjoyed　inflicting　pain　on　others。　He　hadn't　needed　to　jab　the　prisoner　with　the　sharp　fork　but　he　had　done　it　because　he　liked　doing　it；　had　laughed　behind　his　thick　beard　when　the　other　had　winced；　half　cried　out。　And　she　knew　now　that　he　liked　hurting　her　too。　He　had　done　so　only　a　very　short　time　ago。
　　
　　There　was　no　gentleness　in　Kuz's　advances。　When　lust　was　upon　him　he　took　her；　neither　expected　nor　accepted　any　response。　His　personal　pleasure　was　all　that　mattered　to　him；　she　was　an　object　to　fulfil　his　primitive　desires；　nothing　else。　Her　body　screamed　for　orgasm　but　all　too　often　he　cast　her　roughly　to　one　side　seconds　after　he　had　climaxed。　Let　me　sleep；　woman；　for　I　am　tired。　I　will　teli　you　when　I　need　you　again。
　　
　　That　was　how　it　had　been　tonight。　Kuz　had　sat　up　late　by　the　dying　embers　of　the　fire；　his　clouded　expression　that　of　a　man　who　needed　to　be　alone；　to　think　his　own　thoughts　to　the　exclusion　of　everything　else。　So　she　had　retired　to　bed；　was　almost　asleep　when　he　came　for　her。
　　
　　He　jerked　her　into　wakefulness　by　her　long　hair；　pulled　her　up　into　a　sitting　position　and　by　the　glow　of　the　last　embers　she　saw　his　expression；　twisted　animal　lust　that　transcended　fury。　She　choked　back　a　scream　as　he　dragged　her　down　on　to　the　floor；　threw　her　forcibly　over　into　a　kneeling　position。　My　pleasure；　not　yours；　woman！
　　
　　She　hadn't　been　ready；　tensed　herself　as　he　stabbed　at　her；　knew　it　would　hurt。　It　did。　It　could　have　been　a　roughly　hewn　wooden　dildo　that　bored　into　her；　drew　back；　thrust　again。　And　again。
　　
　　She　would　have　fallen　forward　had　he　not　been　supporting　her；　his　arms　around　her　from　behind　in　a　crushing　grip；　his　fingers　twisting　and　gouging　her　soft　breasts；　pinching　and　scraping；　screwing　up　her　soft　nipples。　But　she　dared　not　cry　out　aloud　for　he　would　surely　have　beaten　her；　perhaps　worse。
　　
　　Jackie　felt　the　thick　warm　liquid　filling　her　up；　knew　that　Kuz　was　almost　finished。　His　withdrawal　was　followed　by　a　vicious　thrust；　the　force　of　it　throwing　her　against　the　side　of　the　stone　bed。　Blinding　pain　as　her　forehead　took　the　impact；　red　spotted　blackness。　His　hands　sought　her　again；　roughly；　angrily　pulling　her　up；　hurling　her　back　on　to　the　pile　of　hides。　She　rolled；　bounced　off　the　stone　wall；　lay　still。
　　
　　Then　he　was　beside　her；　stretching　out；　turning　away　from　her。　Another　need　had　to　be　satisfied…sleep。
　　
　　Kuz　was　sleeping　very　deeply。　Her　pain　simmered　to　a　dull　ache　and　then　she　found　herself　thinking　about　the　prisoner　in　the　pit　again。　A　strange　creature；　so　different；　flesh　that　was　white　and　soft；　hairless。　An　absence　of　muscle。　Clothes　that　stifled　his　body；　barely　allowed　it　to　breathe。　And　yet　she　found　him　fascinating。　So　。。。　gentle；　harmless。
　　
　　Something　flickered　in　her　brain　like　a　spent　torch　bulb　trying　to　reignite　itself。　A　dim　flash；　then　it　went　out。　A　spark；　a　faint　memory　stirring　for　a　fraction　of　a　second；　showing　her　a　face　then　cutting　out　before　she　could　recognise　it。　Her　pulses　raced；　her　heart　speeded　up　a　beat。　Features　similar　to　those　of　the　one　the　menfolk　had　brought　home　from　their　hunting　trip；　deep　blue　eyes　that　pleaded　with　her；　lips　that　moved；　formed　words　she　understood。　/　need　you；　Jackie。　Please　e　back　to　me。　Disturbed；　she　jerked　back　into　full　wakefulness；　thought　about　the　captive　again　and　her　eyes　filled　with　tears。　Pity　was　a　new　experience　for　her；　one　that　she　had　had　no　use　for　before。　Strength　predominated　amongst　her　people；　one　did　not　show　weakness　because　there　was　no　place　for　it。　She　had　never　cried　before；　the　threat　of　tears　made　her　afraid　because　she　did　not　understand　them；　only　her　feelings。　That　man　down　in　the　deep　hole　meant　more　to　her　than　any　of　those　around　her；　more　than　Kuz。　Fear；　in　case　her　slumbering　man　so　much　as　guessed　her　thoughts。　He　would　do　more　than　just　beat　her；　she　was　certain；　he　would　kill　her！
　　
　　And　she　knew　that　she　had　to　go　to　the　prisoner。　The　idea　set　her　whole　body　trembling　and　she　inched　even　further　away　from　Kuz。　Her　heart　was　pounding　wildly　and　sensations　which　Kuz　had　failed　to　arouse　within　her　were　making　themselves　known。　An　instinct　beyond　her　prehension　was　calling　her；　and　she　had　no　choice　other　than　to　answer　it。
　　
　　She　moved　slowly；　fearfully；　her　eyes　fixed　on　the　sleeping　form　by　her　side。　She　already　had　an　excuse　in　case　he　suddenly　awoke；　I　need　to　squat。　Maybe　he　would　believe　her；　grab　her　again　by　the　hair；　drag　her　back；　shake　her　until　her　brain　slopped　from　side　to　side。　You're　lying；　woman；　you're　slinking　off　to　fuck　with　one　of　those　men　out　there；　aren't　you？　I'd　sooner　kill　you　than　have　you　mate　with　one　of　them。　She　knew　he　would；　too。
　　
　　But　he　didn't　stir；　not　even　when　she　straddled　over　him；　eased　her　trembling　right　leg　clear　of　the　bed；　dropped　to　her　knees。　She　was　trembling　violently；　opened　her　mouth　to　stop　her　teeth　chattering。　If　he　sees　me　now；　I'm　done。
　　
　　She　crawled；　drew　back　when　an　ember　brightened；　burst　into　yellow　flame　then　died　down　again；　eyed　her　redly；　wickedly。　See；　Kuz；　your　woman　sneaks　off　on　a　mission　of　infidelity；　awake；　and　beat　her。
　　
　　Kuz　half…stirred；　grunted　in　his　sleep；　then　his　breathing　lapsed　back　into　its　former　rhythm。　Jackie　scuttled　like　a　crab　surprised　by　a　rock…pool　fisherman；　a　desperation　about　her　ungainly　movements。　If　he　wakes　now　I　shall　flee　into　the　darkness；　hide　from　him。　I　would　sooner　be　dead　than　let　you　take　me　again；　Kuz。
　　
　　The　settlement　was　still　and　silent；　the　stone　houses　starkly　silhouetted　against　a　quarter　moon。　The　inhabitants　slept；　had　no　need　to　mount　a　guard。　She　kept　to　the　shadows；　ran　from　building　to　building；　glancing　back　fearfully；　but　there　was　no　pursuit。　How　long　before　Kuz's　instincts　warned　him　that　he　was　alone　in　his　bed？
　　
　　Before　her　she　saw　a　patch　of　shadow　that　was　blacker　tha