gns.snakes-第6部分

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d　at　him　crazily；　those　groans　escalating　into　screams。　Back　to　reality；　she　was　in　unbelievable　pain；　probably　dying。
　　
　　Take　it　easy。'　What　a　bloody　stupid　thing　to　say。　He　began　to　smooth　his　fingers　over　her　rain　washed　slippery　flesh；　probing　for　an　injury　of　some　kind；　a　swelling　maybe。　Anything。　And　all　the　time　she　rained　blows　on　him；　caught　him　full　in　the　face　and　he　tasted　blood　in　his　mouth。
　　
　　She　was　writhing；　jerking；　sobbing；　and　in　the　end　he　caught　her　wrists；　had　to　kneel　on　her　to　prevent　her　from　twisting　out　of　his　grip。　What　the　hell　do　I　do　now；　slap　her　across　the　face？　Assaulted　by　a　police　officer　at　the　scene　of　the　accident；　attempted　rape。　Christ；　Sarge；　where　the　hell　are　you　just　when　I　need　you　most？
　　
　　But　Bufton　had　gone　off　into　the　rain　and　smoke；　doing　what　hardened　experienced　officers　do　at　the　scene　of　motorway　carnage。　You're　on　your　own；　copper。
　　
　　The　girl　was　desperately　trying　to　tug　free　of　her　captor；　managed　to　drag　a　hand　away　and　those　fingers　shot　back　to　her　belly　just　above　the　triangle　of　pubic　hair。　The　moment　she　made　contact　with　the　flesh　her　lips　parted　to　emit　a　piercing　shriek　of　pain。
　　
　　'What　happened？'　the　policeman　had　to　shout　to　make　himself　heard　above　the　screams　from　around　him　and　the　banshee…like　noises　of　the　ambulances　which　were　nosing　their　way　down　the　slip　road。　'What　happened？'
　　
　　She　muttered　something　and　he　bent　his　head　low　in　an　attempt　to　hear；　half　thought　that　she　might　attempt　to　bite　him。　Her　lips　were　moving　again；　frothy　with　saliva；　grinding　her　teeth。
　　
　　'Bitten。'　She　got　the　word　out　and　there　was　no　mistaking　the　sheer　terror　in　her　rolling　eyes。
　　
　　He　stared　at　her；　let　the　word　sink　in。　It　was　nonsense。
　　
　　'Bitten？'　His　mouth　was　close　to　her　ear；　shouting。　'Bitten　by　what；　for　Christ's　sake？'
　　
　　The　expression　of　terror　was　back　on　her　pallid　features；　her　eyes　rolling。　Her　head　moved　from　side　to　side；　and　the　hands　which　had　punched　him　now　clutched　at　him。　Her　lips　were　moving　again；　fighting　the　pain　to　get　the　word　out。
　　
　　'Snakes？'
　　
　　She　was　delirious　of　course。　She　had　to　be。　'Take　it　easy；　I'll　try　and　get　you　to　an　ambulance。'
　　
　　She　groaned　and　her　body　went　as　taut　as　a　steel　hawser；　took　the　strain　and　then　reached　breaking　point。　She　came　off　the　ground　like　an　uncoiling　spring；　convulsing　so　that　her　spine　was　in　terrible　danger　of　snapping；　a　landed　fish　desperate　to　flap　its　way　back　to　the　water。　She　hit　the　ground；　rolled；　came　up　to　her　knees　in　a　grotesque；　unnatural　posture；　dug　her　fingers　deep　into　the　flesh　of　her　lower　stomach　as　though　she　were　intent　on　clawing　out　some　cancerous　growth。
　　
　　Pain　and　terror；　doubled　up　yet　jerking　her　head　from　side　to　side；　peering　fearfully　into　the　darkness　with　eyes　that　bulged　unnaturally。　Bazeley　watched；　helpless。　Where　the　fuck　were　the　ambulances？　There　was　one　stopped　about　fifty　yards　away；　some　a　little　further　down；　stretcher…bearers　hardly　knowing　who　to　take　first。
　　
　　'Hey！'　he　called　out；　but　gave　up。　Even　if　they　heard　him；　which　they　weren't　likely　to　in　all　this　din；　they　wouldn't　be　taking　orders　from　a　rookie　copper。　You're　wasting　your　time；　maybe　if　you　carry　her　across　to　them　they'll　have　to　put　her　in　one　of　the　ambulances。
　　
　　He　turned　back　to　her；　saw　that　her　fit　had　subsided；　she　lay　slumped　on　the　ground；　muscles　quivering　after　the　strain。　Her　eyes　were　closed　but　they　flickered　open　as　he　knelt　beside　her。
　　
　　'Relax；　I'm　going　to　try　and　carry　you　to　one　of　the　ambulances。'
　　
　　'It's　no　good。'　She　tried　to　smile　and　in　her　expression　he　read　a　resignation　to　death。　'I'm　。。。　done　for。　Snakes。。。　lots　of　them　。　。　。　loose　on　the　motorway。'
　　
　　'We'll　round　'em　up　afterwards；'　he　said；　sliding　an　arm　under　her　buttocks；　another　behind　her　shoulders。　'Now　easy　does　it。'
　　
　　He　lifted　her　up；　stood　a　moment　to　get　his　balance　and　that　was　when　he　felt　her　go　limp。　Her　head　fell　back；　arms　dropped　and　dangled。　Oh　God；　no！　His　dilemma　arose　from　his　inexperience：　should　he　lay　her　down　again；　give　her　the　kiss　of　life；　or　should　he　hurry　to　one　of　those　ambulances；　let　the　experts　in　first　aid　take　over？　He　chose　the　latter。
　　
　　God；　this　had　to　be　hell；　it　could　not　be　happening　anywhere　else。　Flames　were　raging　where　vehicles　had　caught　fire；　a　thick　pall　of　smoke　reduced　visibility　still　further　and　the　rain　lashed　you　mercilessly。　And　mingled　with　the　choking　atmosphere　were　the　screams　of　the　injured；　blasphemous　curses　thrown　at　ambulancemen　and　policemen　because　they　could　not　be　everywhere　at　the　same　time。　She's　dead；　a　little　voice　inside　PC　Bazeley　whispered；　bitten　by　a　snake；　died　in　excruciating　pain。　You　couldn't　have　done　anything　for　her。　Damn　it；　she's　only　passed　out；　fainted　with　agony。　And　one　place　you　won't　find　snakes　is　on　an　English　motorway。　Get　that　into　your　thick　skull　before　you　go　crazy。
　　
　　The　smoke　was　being　thicker；　burning　tyres　scaring　your　lungs；　smarting　your　eyes。　There　was　an　ambulance　not　too　far　away；　even　this　evil　vapour　could　not　screen　its　flashing　beacon。　Head　that　way。　And　hurry。
　　
　　A　hose　was　stretched　across　the　road　between　some　mangled　cars；　he　sensed　it　rather　than　saw　it；　and　went　to　step　over　it；　swore　as　he　stumbled；　almost　fell　and　dropped　his　burden。　Damn；　it　wasn't　easy　in　these　conditions；　your　judgement　was　impaired。　That　fucking　hose　。　。　。
　　
　　Something　encircled　his　left　leg；　tightened。　He　kicked　at　it　with　his　right　foot；　stared　down　in　disbelief；　felt　the　hairs　on　the　back　of　his　neck　start　to　prickle。　That　hose；　it　had　coiled；　had　trapped　his　leg　with　such　pressure　that　it　was　already　beginning　to　cut　off　the　circulation。　The　firemen　must　be　rolling　it　out　and　it　had　bee　lodged　on　some　obstruction；　kicked　back。
　　
　　It　moved　again；　a　flexible　thing　that　came　alive；　whipped　upwards　and　threw　itself　around　his　waist；　he　felt　the　pressure　on　his　ribs；　a　constriction　that　threatened　to　crush　and　break　them。
　　
　　An　inarticulate　cry　of　terror　escaped　him　as　he　saw　the　end　of　the　hose　in　silhouette；　a　small　slender　head　with　eyes　that　shone　redly　in　the　glow　from　the　burning　vehicles。　It　shifted；　secured　an　even　tighter　hold　that　virtually　halted　his　breathing　and　looped　round　him　again；　pinioning　his　arms。
　　
　　Mark　Bazeley　screamed　but　nobody　heard　him。　His　second　shriek　was　merely　a　wheeze　as　his　supply　of　air　was　cut　off。　The　girl　fell　from　his　arms；　thudded　lifelessly　on　to　the　tarmac　and　sprawled　full　length；　death　sparing　her　this　fresh　horror。
　　
　　The　policeman　realised　only　too　well　what　it　was　that　was　swiftly　crushing　his　bones　and　throttling　the　life　out　of　him。　He'd　seen　the　species　at　the　zoo；　watched　it　in　more　spectacular　settings　on　the　television。　He　thought；　oh　my　God；　the　girl　was　telling　the　truth！　This　can't　be　happening。
　　
　　His　ribs　cracked　and　he　knew　that　it　was。　Breathless；　tasting　blood；　a　roaring　in　his　ears　and　his　vision　blurred　and　streaked　with　crimson　as　he　felt　himself　being　pulped。　Consciousness　was　slipping　from　him；　he　had　given　up　struggling；　just　wondered　with　his　last　thoughts　where　the　sarge　was。
　　
　　The　python　relaxed　its　hold　the　moment　it　felt　its　prey　go　limp；　uncoiled　itself　with　amazing　rapidity　for　its　eighteen…foot　length。　Wary　but　hungry；　capable　of　devouring　a　waterbuck；　it　began　to　swallow　the　corpse。　There　were　other　bodies　it　could　have　taken　more　easily　but　it　was　primarily　a　hunter　and　only　ate　its　own　kill。
　　
　　The　creature　was　confused；　frightened　by　the　noise　and　the　smell　of　fire　and　now　that　its　hunger　was　satisfied　its　instinct　was　to　find　a　place　of　safety。　A　strange　land　of　artificial　surfaces；　yet　beyond　these　were　grass　and　trees；　and　something　else　which　it　had　never　before　known　and　yet　had　craved　for　freedom。
　　
　　
　　
　　　Chapter　4
　　
　　THE　TALL　police　superintendent　had　all　the　hallmarks　of　one　who　had　not　slept　in　36　hours。　His　sallow　face　was　etched　with　lines；　there　were　discoloured　puffy　patches　beneath　his　red…rimmed　eyes。　Tight…lipped　he　consulted　a　sheaf　of　papers　on　the　desk　before　him　in　the　temporary　headquarters　which　had　hastily　been　installed　adjoining　the　small　police　station　in　the　sleepy　little　village　of　Stainforth。
　　
　　The　set…up；　the　procedure；　were　all　too　familiar。　Last　summer　a　child　had　gone　missing；　it　had　taken　them　a　week　to　find　her　body　buried　on　the　extensive　moorland。　Before　that　it　had　been　a　gunman　holding　an　elderly　couple　hostage；　and　it　had　taken　the　police　three　days　to　talk　him　into　surrendering。　Now　Stainforth　would　be　in　the　public　eye。
　　
　　A　crisis。　You　dropped　routine　work；　devoted　yourself　mentally　and　physically　to　it；　snatched　food　and　sleep　if　you　got　the　chance；　if　not；　you　drew　on　every　bodily　reserve　until　you　dropped。　This　time　it　was　different；　oh　Christ　it　was　something　you　didn't　expect　ever　to　e　across　except　in　far…fetched　movies。　Dangerous　snakes　were　on　the　loose　in　a　countryside　which　was　tailor…made　for　them…moorlands；　woodlands…and　there　was　a　heat　wave　to　keep　them　alive。　A　snap　of　cold　weather　would　in　all　prob