gns.snakes-第9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！


　　
　　It　was　after　nine　o'clock　before　the　shotgun…carrying　searchers　had　finished　bing　the　moorland　above　Stainforth。　Hot　and　weary；　their　feet　painful　after　the　necessity　of　wearing　knee…length　protective　rubber　boots；　disillusioned。　The　dogs　lay　panting；　licking　at　tufts　of　grass　in　the　hope　of　obtaining　a　droplet　of　moisture　but　there　was　none。　A　barren　wilderness　where　only　the　heather　and　bracken　survived；　bilberry　bushes　loaded　with　red　fruit　that　would　ripen　in　a　month　or　so；　the　domain　of　the　grouse　and　the　buzzard；　even　the　free…ranging　sheep　preferring　the　lower　slopes　where　there　were　patches　of　shade　to　be　found。
　　
　　John　Price　had　had　his　misgivings　from　the　start；　a　feeling　that　one　sometimes　got　that　it　was　all　going　to　be　a　waste　of　time。　You　sensed　you　were　in　the　wrong　place　but　with　no　alternative　you　had　to　start　somewhere。
　　
　　The　snakes　were　definitely　not　on　the　moor　unless　they　had　gone　to　ground　somewhere　and　it　was　unlikely　that　every　one　of　the　escaped　eight　reptiles　would　have　done　that。　Of　course；　the　dogs　had　no　idea　what　they　were　hunting；　they　could　not　be　expected　to。　They　were　the　sacrificial　victims；　it　was　inevitable　that　should　one　of　them　e　upon　a　reptile　it　would　attack　in　ignorance　and　get　bitten。　There　was　no　other　way；　canine　lives　were　expendable；　human　lives　were　not。
　　
　　They　beat　out　the　three…thousand…acre；　triangular　moorland　from　its　apex；　the　furthermost　point。　John　had　to　agree　with　Colonel　Marks　that　that　was　the　logical　thing　to　do　even　though　the　slight　breeze　was　blowing　towards　the　ragged　line　of　police　and　army。　You　knew　then；　when　you　finally　arrived　at　the　rocky　outcrop　overlooking　Stainforth　village；　that　the　poisonous　reptiles　were　not　on　the　moor。　A　process　of　elimination。　Tomorrow　it　would　be　the　grassy　slopes　down　to　the　arable　land　that　would　be　thrashed　out。　On　day　three　it　would　be　the　barley　and　oilseed　rape　fields。　And　after　that。。。
　　
　　Nightfall　was　the　snakes'　greatest　ally。　They　could　have　been　lying　low　further　down　by　day　and　with　the　ing　of　darkness　they　might　start　to　move。　Upwards。　So　tomorrow　whilst　the　searchers　toiled　down　below；　their　prey　could　be　safely　ensconced　several　hundred　feet　above　them　up　on　the　moorland。
　　
　　But　not　all　of　them；　John　Price　was　adamant　about　that。　They　were　not　hunting　a　flock　of　snakes；　rather　six　very　different　species。　The　pairs　would　stay　together　in　all　probability。　But　nobody　really　knew；　they　could　only　guess。　The　killers　were　in　a　strange　alien　environment　and　there　was　no　way　of　knowing　how　they　might　react。　There　was　no　book　of　rules　to　consult。
　　
　　John　heard　the　whine　of　the　helicopters　again。　The　choppers　were　flying　low；　sweeping　the　grassy　slopes；　determined　not　to　give　up　until　the　light　was　gone　altogether。　A　long　shot；　but　when　lives　were　at　stake　you　played　every　card　you　had。
　　
　　'We'll　have　to　call　it　a　day；'　the　sweat…grimed　colonel　was　polishing　his　spectacles；　dejection　in　his　tone；　head　bowed　as　though　their　failure　to　find　the　snakes　was　a　personal　affront　to　his　own　rank　and　status。　'We'll　make　an　early　start　in　the　morning。　7　a。m。　Everybody　assemble　at　the　police　station。　It's　the　hillsides　and　slopes　tomorrow；　working　back　towards　the　village。　The　choppers　will　be　out　before　then；　scouring。　We　can　only　hope。'
　　
　　Chief　Inspector　Watts　nodded　but　declined　to　ment。　Everybody　knew　the　position；　the　colonel　had　said　everything　there　was　to　be　said。　Surely　the　reptiles　had　to　show　up　somewhere；　the　worrying　factor　was　just　where。
　　
　　It　was　10。05　when　John　Price　disembarked　from　the　camouflaged　army　Land　Rover　and　began　to　walk　the　length　of　the　village　in　the　direction　of　Aunt　Elsie's　bungalow。　His　feet　dragged　but　mentally　he　was　still　alert。　On　a　balmy　summer　evening　such　as　this　he　would　have　expected　to　see　families　enjoying　the　late　evening　in　deck…chairs　in　their　gardens　or　taking　a　stroll　before　going　to　bed。　The　main　street　was　deserted；　lights　showing　in　some　of　the　houses　on　either　side。
　　
　　He　passed　the　Rising　Sun。　The　beer…garden　at　the　side　was　deserted；　an　air　of　desolation　about　the　array　of　white…painted　tables　and　chairs；　an　empty　glass　tipped　over　with　insects　crawling　inside　it　after　the　dregs；　you　had　the　feeling　that　it　had　been　like　that　since　yesterday；　that　nobody　had　ventured　out　there。　Stay　indoors　and　be　safe；　never　mind　the　stifling　atmosphere；　that's　a　small　price　to　pay　for　your　life。
　　
　　There　were　people　in　the　bar；　he　heard　their　voices　and　the　wafting　aroma　of　beer　almost　tempted　him　inside。　God；　he　could　swallow　a　pint　of　lager　at　one　go。　But　the　thought　of　his　aunt　all　alone　dissuaded　him。　She　would　doubtless　be　worrying；　probably　had　been　all　day　and　he　was　later　than　he　had　anticipated。　The　trouble　with　Elsie　Harrison　was　that　she　was　always　so　precise…what　time　will　you　be　home；　John？　Even　when　he　just　popped　out　for　a　quick　half。
　　
　　Between　ten　and　half　past　meant　she　started　looking　out　for　him　at　five　to　ten。　He　had　not　failed　to　notice　the　pack　of　low…alcohol　shandies　lined　up　on　the　shelf　in　the　fridge；　a　subtle　move　on　her　part　to　keep　him　in　at　nights；　depriving　him　of　that　one　half…hour　of　freedom　down　at　the　Rising　Sun。　But　nobody　had　bargained　for　this　crisis。　And　John　Price　would　stay　in　Stainforth　until　every　one　of　those　poisonous　creatures　was　accounted　for。
　　
　　He　noted　that　the　living…room　and　kitchen　lights　were　on　in　the　bungalow；　experienced　a　fleeting　sense　of　guilt。　Like　the　times　he　used　to　e　and　stay　when　he　was　a　teenager　and　he'd　been　to　a　disco　at　the　hall　which　did　not　finish　until　the　early…hours。　And　a　fatigued　Aunt　Elsie　was　waiting　up　for　him。　You　know　I　can't　possibly　go　to　sleep　until　you're　safe　back；　John。　Emotional　blackmail。
　　
　　He　pushed　open　the　gate　and　his　booted　feet　crunched　on　the　gravel。　Next　door　was　in　darkness　and　their　car　wasn't　parked　outside　where　it　usually　was。　Probably　they　had　done　what　quite　a　lot　of　the　residents　had　done；　fled　Stainforth　until　it　was　all　over。　You　couldn't　blame　anybody　for　that。　John　wished　there　was　somewhere　his　aunt　could　go　in　the　meantime　but　he　knew　only　too　well　that　no　way　would　Aunt　Elsie　be　persuaded　to　vacate　her　home；　not　even　in　the　threat　of　a　nuclear　war。　'This　is　the　place　I'll　die　in；　John；'　she　had　told　him　some　time　ago。　'The　only　time　I'll　leave　here　is　when　they　carry　me　out　feet　first。'
　　
　　He　slowed　his　step；　saw　the　light　shafting　out　through　the　partly　open　back　door。　Now　that　was　naughty　of　her；　hadn't　he　reminded　her　before　he　left　that　morning　to　keep　all　doors　and　windows　shut？
　　
　　He　pushed　open　the　door；　saw　the　empty　kitchen；　a　plate　and　cup　on　the　draining　board。　Silence　except　for　the　hum　of　the　fridge。　Even　those　over…sweet　mercial　shandies　would　be　wele　right　now。
　　
　　'Aunt　Elsie；'　he　called。　'I'm　back。'
　　
　　No　answer。　Still；　she　was　being　a　trifle　hard　of　hearing　even　if　she　refused　to　admit　it。　She　was　probably　asleep　in　the　armchair　in　the　other　room。　I　didn't　hear　you　e　in；　John。　What　time　is　it？
　　
　　The　clock　on　the　cooker　read　10。20。　He　strode　to　the　door　which　led　through　to　the　living…room；　that　was　open　a　few　inches　too。　He　flung　it　wide　and　stood　aghast；　petrified　at　the　scene　which　greeted　him；　his　brain　struggling　to　accept　what　his　eyes　saw。
　　
　　The　old　lady　was　dead；　there　was　no　doubt　about　that。　She　lay　face　downwards　on　the　carpet；　her　white　hair　having　flipped　out　of　that　bun；　spraying　across　her　head　and　shoulders　in　the　manner　of　a　shroud　which　tried　to　hide　the　corpse　it　covered。　The　grandfather　clock　ticked　loudly；　steadily。　Mournfully。
　　
　　Even　as　his　brain　registered　shock；　he　saw　the　snake。　It　was　on　the　mat　only　a　few　inches　from　his　feet；　a　long　length　of　serpent　that　did　not　move；　just　saw　and　was　afraid　because　it　had　wandered　out　of　its　own　environment　into　the　domain　of　Man。
　　
　　John　Price　did　not　hesitate。　He　stooped　and　with　one　lightning　movement　he　grabbed　it　just　below　the　head；　scooped　it　up　and　held　it　out　at　arm's　length；　felt　its　futile　struggles　begin；　its　helpless　wriggles。
　　
　　'You　bastard；'　he　hissed；　'of　all　the　land　you've　got　to　roam　in　peace　you　have　to　e　in　here　and　kill　an　old　lady。'
　　
　　Swiftly　he　carried　it　across　the　kitchen　to　the　open　back　door　and　with　one　deft　movement　he　hurled　it　out　into　the　night；　watched　the　shadows　swallow　up　the　four…foot…long　thrashing　creature；　heard　it　thud　softly　on　to　the　lawn。
　　
　　He　stood　there　in　the　doorway；　trembling　and　feeling　slightly　sick。　Then　he　came　to　a　decision　and　with　feet　that　dragged　he　began　to　retrace　his　steps　down　the　main　street　and　into　the　village。
　　
　　They　were　still　drinking　in　the　Rising　Sun。　Nobody　could　blame　them　for　that　but　when　you　had　a　personal　tragedy　you　instinctively　resented　the　way　life　went　on　without　so　much　as　a　hiccup。　Only　a　few　lights　showed　in　the　houses　now。　Bed　was　a　good　place　to　be　and　in　your　own　house　with　the　doors　locked　you　felt　safe。　You　kept　your　feet　under　the　sheets　even　on　a　hot　night　because　that　way　nothing　could　e　up　from　under　the　bed　and　entwine　your　ankle；　slither　up　you　and　bite　you。
　　
　　'You　still　around！'　there