gns.throwback-第23部分

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m　that　he　was　alone　in　his　bed？
　　
　　Before　her　she　saw　a　patch　of　shadow　that　was　blacker　than　the　rest：　the　pit！　New　fears　assailed　her。　The　strange　man　who　lay　in　its　depths　might　resent　her　visit；　might　shout　a　warning　that　would　bring　the　others。　She　was　an　enemy；　he　might　attack　her；　kill　her；　if　she　went　to　him。　No；　he　was　not　strong　enough；　her　own　strength　was　greater　than　his。
　　
　　She　lay　full…length；　used　her　elbows　to　propel　herself　forward。　Her　arm　brushed　against　something　and　she　recognised　it　as　the　ladder；　to　free　him　would　be　simplicity　itself。　No；　first　she　must　look；　see　him　again。　She　had　to　be　sure。
　　
　　Nervously　she　edged　her　head　and　shoulders　over　the　rough　brink；　narrowed　her　eyes；　tried　to　adjust　them　to　the　dense　blackness　below。　Nothing　but　darkness；　the　pit　might　have　been　empty；　the　prisoner　somehow　having　scaled　the　sheer　sides　and　fled。　Despair；　even　if　this　was　so　then　she　was　not　going　back　to　Kuz。　She　would　die　first；　by　her　own　hand　if　necessary。
　　
　　Wait！　She　could　just　make　out　a　shape　huddled　in　the　bottom；　pale　flesh；　a　curled…up　sleeping　form。　Her　acute　hearing　picked　out　his　breathing；　soft　and　regular。　She　continued　to　stare；　waited　for　her　eyes　to　bee　accustomed　to　the　blackness　as　they　surely　would；　felt　her　body　tingle　with　anticipation。
　　
　　A　noise　which　she　identified　at　once；　a　dislodged　pebble　sliding；　bouncing；　rolling；　hitting　something；　ing　to　a　standstill。　Jackie　caught　her　breath；　knew　that　she　had　knocked　against　a　loose　stone；　that　it　had　struck　the　slumbering　captive；　was　stirring　him　uneasily。　He　sat　up；　glanced　about　him；　then　looked　upwards。　And　saw　her。
　　
　　'Who's　there？　What　do　you　want？'
　　
　　Inprehensible　words　in　a　strange　tongue；　but　fear　rather　than　anger。　His　face　was　upturned　and　she　saw　the　hopelessness　in　his　wide　eyes；　a　hand　flung　up　to　protect　his　head　as　though　he　expected　to　be　stoned。
　　
　　Jackie　rose　to　a　kneeling　position；　wished　that　in　some　way　she　could　municate。　See；　I　am　a　woman；　naked　because　I　have　just　left　my　sleeping　man's　bed。　Do　not　be　alarmed　because　I　mean　you　no　harm。　I　。。。　I　。。。　she　could　not　express　her　own　feelings　even　to　herself；　but　something　inside　her　seemed　to　say；　'I　have　met　one　like　you　before；　I　know　I　have。'　But　she　could　not　be　sure　。　。　。　that　face　with　the　blue　eyes　had　been　only　a　dream　and　now　it　was　gone　forever。
　　
　　He　stood　up；　and　they　looked　at　each　other　uncertainly；　warily。　Phil　Winder　thought；　Is　this　some　kind　of　a　trick？　He　recognised　her　now；　the　girl　who　had　been　the　chiefs　woman；　too　damned　attractive　for　this　lot　of　gorillas。　What　was　she　up　to；　though？
　　
　　She　drew　back；　disappeared　from　view。　He　sighed；　leaned　back　against　the　side；　told　himself　that　she　had　probably　only　sneaked　down　here　out　of　curiosity。　God；　I　wish　I'd　got　some　clothes。　He　sensed　that　he　might　be　blushing　which　was　bloody　silly　considering　the　predicament　he　was　in。
　　
　　A　scraping　noise　had　him　jerking　his　head　back　upwards；　she　was　here　again；　struggling　to　drag　something　along　the　ground。　He　gasped　as　he　saw　a　criss…cross　of　uprights　and　rungs：　the　ladder！　Christ；　she　was　strong；　that　thing　must　have　weighed　several　hundredweight；　huge　boughs　cut　from　growing　timber；　crosspieces　roped　on　to　it。　It　could　still　be　a　trick；　though；　let　the　poor　bastard　think　he's　going　to　escape　then　chase　him　like　a　pack　of　beagles　after　a　hare；　set　him　up　for　some　sport。'
　　
　　He　didn't　have　much　choice；　though。　The　ladder　was　being　eased　slowly　over　the　side　and　now　he　could　reach　it；　take　the　strain　and　help　her　to　lower　it。　If　I　stop　here　I'm　at　their　mercy；　at　least　in　the　open　I　do　have　a　slim　chance；　better　than　dying　like　a　badger　in　a　baiting　pit。
　　
　　The　ladder　was　down；　resting　firmly　on　the　bottom；　all　he　had　to　do　was　to　climb　up　it。　He　grasped　the　rungs；　looked　up　at　her　again；　the　reflection　of　the　faint　moonlight　showing　pity　and　。　。　。　pleading。　Please　climb　up　because　I　need　you！
　　
　　He　moved　slowly；　uncertainly。　It　could　still　be　a　trap；　they　had　forced　her　to　lure　him　up　against　her　will。　Somewhere　in　the　distance　dogs　were　howling；　their　eager　primitive　tongue　sending　a　chill　up　his　spine　as　though　they　had　already　scented　him　and　were　straining　at　their　leashes。
　　
　　Phil　Winder　scrambled　out　of　the　deep　hole；　knelt　there　looking　at　his　rescuer。　She　was　beautiful　all　right；　but　why　was　she　naked？　These　people　wore　rough　clothing　so　she　didn't　have　to　e　to　his　aid　in　the　nude。　Again　his　inhibitions　troubled　him　as　her　gaze　ran　over　his　body；　her　eyes　wide　with　amazement。　I've　never　seen　anybody　quite　like　you；　mister；　but　I　like　what　I　see。
　　
　　She　glanced　around；　raised　a　finger　to　her　lips。　He　listened；　heard　only　the　pounding　of　his　own　pulses　（or　hers）　and　that　constant　canine　noise　that　reminded　him　of　the　howling　of　wolves　in　those　north…west　movies　which　they　showed　on　TV　periodically。　She　pointed　away　to　the　skyline　where　he　saw　a　black　uneven　outline　that　could　only　be　a　forest。　Pointing　again；　grasping　his　arm　urgently。　We　must　flee　to　the　woods　before　they　find　out　that　we　are　missing。　Both　of　us；　I'm　going　too。　They'll　kill　me　if　they　catch　me。　You；　loo。
　　
　　He　followed　in　her　wake；　the　firm　outline　of　her　body；　buttocks　that　wiggled　seductively　even　in　primitive　flight；　moving　as　lithely　as　a　hunted　deer。　He　would　go　where　she　led；　unquestioningly；　she　wanted　to　leave　this　place　for　some　reason　and　he　would　go　with　her。　He　didn't　want　to　think　beyond　that。
　　
　　The　eastern　sky　was　beginning　to　pale　when　they　finally　came　to　the　fringe　of　the　big　pine　forest；　another　world；　dank　and　evil…smelling。　A　stench　like　that　of　rotting　corpses；　stinkhorn；　a　fungus　that　crawled　with　flies　perhaps　even　fooling　them　that　they　were　feeding　on　deposing　flesh。
　　
　　A　magpie　chattered　a　machine…gun…like　early　warning　and　a　jay　screeched　its　acknowledgement；　set　a　carrion　crow　cawing。　Man　was　abroad；　he　had　infiltrated　one　of　Nature's　fortresses。　Beware！
　　
　　Phil　Winder　held　back　a　second；　hesitated。　He　would　not　have　ventured　in　there　under　normal　circumstances；　still　pandered　to　his　childhood　fear　of　the　dark　which　he　had　never　really　overe。　It　was　the　sort　of　place　where　your　imagination　could　run　riot　and　after　what　he　had　already　seen　and　experienced　。　。　。
　　
　　The　girl　turned；　grabbed　him　by　the　wrist。　e　on；　we've　got　to　go　this　way　because　if　we　don't　they　will　catch　up　with　us。　They　will　have　missed　us　by　now；　be　on　our　trail。
　　
　　He　did　not　resist；　allowed　her　to　pull　him　gently　along。　Winding　paths　through　towering　dark　green　trees；　an　occasional　clump　of　grass　or　some　ferns　in　those　places　where　the　sun　found　a　way　through。　You　got　the　impression　that　this　coniferous　monster　was　slowly　swallowing　you　up　and　there　was　no　way　back。　Ever。
　　
　　Phil　noticed　his　panion　glancing　behind　her　every　so　often；　once　stopping　to　listen。　Total　silence；　even　the　corvines　weren't　calling　any　longer。　Probably　they　had　flown　out　to　the　fields　for　their　morning　feed；　found　death　in　a　variety　of　forms　and　scavenged　hungrily。　A　train　of　thought　that　led　back　to　himself；　Phil　was　aware　how　dry　his　mouth　had　gone；　a　sour　taste　on　his　furred　tongue。　He　and　the　girl　could　end　up　like　that；　maybe　not　even　dead　when　those　filthy　birds　flew　in；　not　enough　strength　to　ward　them　off。　Feeling　your　flesh　being　gouged　by　claws；　sharp　beaks　ripping　it　from　the　bones。　They　always　went　for　the　eyes　first　。　。　。
　　
　　The　sun　was　up。　Occasionally　they　glimpsed　it　through　the　dense　fir　branches；　felt　its　heat。　Next　came　the　flies；　black　swarms　which　had　possibly　grown　tired　of　feeding　on　stinkhorn。　His　panion　seemed　oblivious　of　them　even　when　they　settled　on　her；　crawled　over　her　face。　Phil　swatted　at　them　ceaselessly；　futilely。　A　kind　of　game　which　you　couldn't　win；　like　a　rigged　fairground　gallery；　you　hit　one　but　it　didn't　drop；　buzzed　angrily　and　came　in　at　you　again。
　　
　　They　had　to　emerge　from　the　wood　soon；　surely。　Phil　knew　the　place　vaguely　although　he　had　never　ventured　up　here　before；　a　skyline　view　from　his　parents'　farm。　Once　his　father　had　gone　up　there　looking　for　missing　lambs　but　Phil　had　stayed　behind　with　his　mother。　The　wood　couldn't　be　all　that　big。　If　you　kept　walking　you　had　to　e　out　at　the　other　end　eventually。　He　wondered　if　the　girl　knew　where　she　was　going　or　whether　she　was　just　running　blindly。　He　wished　he　could　talk　to　her；　make　her　understand　things　beyond　the　simplicity　of　sign　language。　No　sign　of　life；　not　even　a　rabbit　or　a　grey　squirrel；　a　dead；　dead　place。　A　host　of　fears。　Perhaps　they　were　going　round　in　circles；　would　still　be　in　here　when　night　came　again。　Their　pursuers　must　realise　where　they　had　fled；　might　be　in　here　now　searching　for　them；　crouching　in　the　trees；　listening　for　soft　footfalls　on　the　thick　carpet　of　dead　pine　needles。　Phil　Winder　found　himself　watching　the　uppermost　branches　of　the　trees　as　they　passed　beneath　them。　When　he　had　been　captured　the　attack　had　e　from　above。
　　
　　Suddenly　the　fugitives　were　out　of　the　trees。　The　path　veered　sharply　to　the　right；　then　a　left…hand　bend；　and　before　them　were　the　familiar　bracken…and　heather…covered　hillsides　sloping　steeply　downwards。　The　other　side　of　the　Hill。
　　
　　They　stood　there　just　looking　at　the　scenery　like　a　couple　of　holidaymakers　who　had　spent　the　day　climbing　to　the　summit　of　a　fell　just　to　look　back　on　the　panoramic　view。　A　patchwork　of　green　quilt　untidily　stitched　together　with　ragged　hedgerows　that　had　been　mutilated　by　modern　flail…cutters　and　which　Nature　was　doing　her　damnedest　to　hide　with　lush　new　growth；　farm　buildings　which　had　stood　for　a　century　or　more；　sheep　grazing　peacefully。　Nothing　untoward　about　it　from　this　distance；　you　might　even　have　kidded　yourself　that　everything　was　perfectly　normal；　that　the　wood　behind　you　had　conjured　up　some　awful　nightmare　but　you　were　fast　getting　it　out　of　your　system。
　　
　　But　it　was　the　sheer　silence　that　told　you　everything　wasn't　all　right；　told　you　that　it　wasn't　just　a　dark　dream　brought　on　by　that　forest。　It　was　real。
　　
　　A　familiar　scene　viewed　from　a　different　angle。　Phil　Winder　noted　the　farms　and　holdings；　found