璇玑之心刃·冷血悍将-第104部分
按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页,按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页,按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部!
————未阅读完?加入书签已便下次继续阅读!
ut speed; and frantically blowing his diesel hom。 Oh God; oh God; please don‘t …
She never saw it ing。 Her head never turned。 The station wagon just jumped light through the intersection; and the driver‘s lingering memory would be of the young woman‘s profile disappearing under the hood of his diesel tractor; and then the awful lurch and shuddering surge upwards as the truck crushed the wagon under his front wheels。
The worst part of all was not feeling。 Helen was her friend。 Helen was dying; and Pam knew she should feel something; but she couldn‘t。 The body was gagged; but that didn‘t stop all the sounds as Billy and Rick did what they were doing。 Breath found its way out; and though her mouth couldn‘t move; the sounds were those of a woman soon to leave her life behind; but the trip had a price which had to be paid first; and Rick and Billy and Burt and Henry were doing the collecting。 She tried to tell herself that she was really in another place; but the awful choking sounds kept bringing her eyes and her consciousness back to what reality had bee。 Helen was bad。 Helen had tried to run away; and they couldn‘t have that。 It had been explained to them all more than once; and was now being explained again in a way; Henry said; that they would be sure to remember。 Pam felt where her ribs had once been broken; remembering her lesson。 She knew there was nothing she could do as Helen‘s eyes fixed on her face。 She tried to convey sympathy with her eyes。 She didn‘t dare do more than that; and presently Helen stopped making noise; and it was over; for now。 Now she could close her eyes and wonder when it would be her turn。
The crew thought it was pretty funny。 They had the American pilot tied up right outside their sandbagged emplacement so he could see the guns that had shot him down。 Less funny was what their prisoner had done; and they‘d expressed their displeasure for it with fists and boots。 They had the other body; too; and they set it right next to him; enjoying the look of sorrow and despair on his face as he looked at his fellow bandit。 The intelligence officer from Hanoi was here now; checking the man‘s name against a list he‘d brought along; bending down again to read off the name。 It must have been something special; the gunners all thought; from the way he reacted to it; an the urgent phone call he‘d made。 After the prisoner passed out from his pain; the intelligence officer had swabbed some blood from the dead body and covered the live one‘s face with it。 Then he‘d snapped a few photos。 That puzzled the gun crew。 It was almost as though he wanted the live one to look as dead as the body next to him。 How very odd。
It wasn‘t the first body he‘d had to identify; but Kelly had thought that aspect of his life was a thing left far behind。 Other people were there to support him; but not falling down wasn‘t the same thing as surviving; and there was no consolation at a moment such as this。 He walked out of the emergency room; people‘s eyes on him; doctors and nurses。 A priest had been called to perform his last duty; and had said a few things that he knew were unheard。 A police officer explained that it hadn‘t been the driver‘s fault。 The brakes had failed。 Mechanical defect。 Nobody‘s fault; really。 Just one of those things。 All the things he‘d said before; on other such occasions; trying to explain to some innocent person why the main part of his world had just ended; as though it mattered。 This Mr Kelly was a tough one; the officer saw; and all the more vulnerable because of it。 His wife and unborn child; whom he might have protected against any hazard; were dead by an accident。 Nobody to blame。 The trucker; a family man himself; was in the hospital; under sedation after having gone under his rig in the hope of finding her alive。 People Kelly had been working with sat with him; and would help him make arrangements。 There was nothing else to be done for a man who would have accepted hell rather than this; because he‘d seen hell。 But there was more than one hell; and he hadn‘t seen them all quite yet。
C1
WithoutRemors
CHAPTER 1
Enfant perdu
May
He‘d never know why he stopped。 Kelly pulled his Scout over to the shoulder without a conscious thought。 She hadn‘t had her hand out soliciting a ride。 She‘d just been standing at the side of the road; watching the cars speed past in a spray of highway grit and a wake of fumes。 Her posture was that of a hitchhiker; one knee locked; the other bent。 Her clothes were clearly well used and a backpack was loosely slung over one shoulder。 Her tawny; shoulder…length hair moved about in the rush of air from the traffic。 Her face showed nothing; but Kelly didn‘t see that until he was already pressing his right foot on the brake pedal and angling onto the loose rock of the shoulder。 He wondered if he should go back into the traffic; then decided that he was already mitted; though to what he didn‘t know; exactly。 The girl‘s eyes followed the car and; as he looked in his rearview mirror; she shrugged without any particular enthusiasm and walked towards him。 The passenger window was down already; and in a few seconds she was there。
‘Where you goin‘?‘ she asked。
That surprised Kelly。 He thought the first question …Need a ride? … was supposed to be his。 He hesitated for a second or two; looking at her。 Twenty…one; perhaps; but old for her years。 Her face wasn‘t dirty; but neither was it clean; perhaps from the wind and dust on the interstate。 She wore a man‘s cotton shirt that hadn‘t been ironed in months; and her hair was knotted。 But what surprised him most of all were her eyes。 Fetchingly gray…green; they stared past Kelly into 。。。 what? He‘d seen the look before often enough; but only on weary men。 He‘d had the look himself; Kelly remembered; but even then he‘d never known what his eyes saw。 It didn‘t occur to him that he wore a look not so different now。
‘Back to my boat;‘ he answered finally; not knowing what else to say。 And that quickly; her eyes changed。
‘You have a boat?‘ she asked。 Her eyes lit up like a child‘s; a smile started there and radiated down the remainder of her face; as though he‘d just answered an important question。 She had a cute gap between her front teeth; Kelly noticed。
‘Forty…footer … she‘s a diesel cruiser。‘ He waved to the back of the Scout; whose cargo area was pletely filled with cartons of groceries。 ‘You want to e along?‘ he asked; also without thinking。
‘Sure!‘ Without hesitation she yanked open the door and tossed her backpack on the floor in front of the passenger seat。
Pulling back into traffic was dangerous。 Short of wheel…base and short of power; the Scout wasn‘t built for interstate…highway driving; and Kelly had to concentrate。 The car wasn‘t fast enough to go in any other lane than the right; and with people ing on and off at every interchange; he had to pay attention because the Scout wasn‘t nimble enough to avoid all the idiots who were heading out to the ocean or wherever the hell people went on a three…day weekend。
You want to e along? he‘d asked; and she‘d said Sure; his mind reported to him。 What the hеll? Kelly frowned in frustration at the traffic because he didn‘t know the answer; but then there were a lot of questions to which he hadn‘t known the answers in the last six months。 He told his mind to be quiet and watched the traffic; even though it kept up its inquiries in a nagging sort of background noise。 One‘s mind; after all; rarely obeys its own mands。
Memorial Day weekend; he thought。 The cars around him were filled with people rushing home from work; or those who‘d already made that trip and picked up their families。 The faces of children stared out of the rear…seat windows。 One or two waved at him; but Kelly pretended not to notice。 It was hard not having a soul; most especially when you could remember having had one。
Kelly ran a hand across his jaw; feeling the sandpaper texture。 The hand itself was dirty。 No wonder they‘d acted that way at the grocery warehouse。 Letting yourself go; Kelly。
Well; who the hell cares?
He turned to look at his guest and realized that he didn‘t know her name。 He was taking her to his boat; and he didn‘t know her name。 Amazing。 She was staring forward; her face serene。 It was a pretty face in profile。 She was thin … perhaps willowy was the right word; her hair halfway between blonde and brown。 Her jeans were worn and torn in a few places; and had begun life at one of those stores where they charged you extra to sell jeans that were pre…faded … or whatever they did with them。 Kelly didn‘t know and cared less。 One more thing not to care about。
Christ; how did you ever get this screwed up? his mind demanded of him。 He knew the answer; but even that was not a full explanation。 Different segments of the organism called John Terrence Kelly knew different parts of the whole story; but somehow they‘d never all e together; leaving the separate fragments of what had once been a tough; smart; decisive man to blunder about in confusion … and despair? There was a happy thought。
He remembered what he‘d once been。 He remembered all the things that he had survived; amazed that he had done so。 And perhaps the worst torment of all was that he d