cb.imajica1-第31部分

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by　turns　clear　and　confounded；　as　the　wind　brought　choking　smoke　in　his　direction；　then　carried　it　away　again。　He　pulled　off　his　leather　jacket　and　threw　it　over　his　head　as　primitive　protection　against　the　heat；　then　ducked　through　the　fence。　There　was　solid　flame　in　front　of　him；　making　the　way　forward　impassable。　He　tried　to　his　left　and　found　a　gap　between　two　blazing　vehicles。　Dodging　between　them；　the　smell　of　singeing　leather　already　sharp　in　his　nostrils；　he　found　himself　in　the　middle　of　the　pound；　a　space　relatively　free　of　bustible　material；　and　thus　of　fire。　But　on　every　side；　the　flames　had　hold。　Only　three　of　the　trailers　weren't　blazing；　and　the　veering　wind　would　soon　carry　the　flame　in　their　direction。　How　many　of　the　inhabitants　had　fled　before　the　flames　took　hold　he　couldn't　know；　but　it　was　certain　there'd　be　no　further　escapees。　The　heat　was　nearly　unbearable。　It　beat　upon　him　from　every　side；　cooking　his　thoughts　to　incoherence。　But　he　held　on　to　the　image　of　the　creature　he'd　e　to　find；　determined　not　to　desert　the　pyre　until　he　had　that　face　in　his　hands　or　knew　beyond　doubt　it　was　ash。
　A　dog　appeared　from　the　smoke；　barking　hysterically。
　As　it　ran　past　him　a　fresh　eruption　of　fire　drove　it　back　the　way　it　had　e；　its　panic　escalating。　Having　no　better　route；　he　chased　its　tail　through　the　chaos；　calling　Pie's　name　as　he　ran；　though　each　breath　he　took　was　hotter　than　the　last；　and　after　a　few　such　shouts　the　name　was　a　rasp。　He'd　lost　the　dog　in　the　smoke；　and　all　sense　of　direction　at　the　same　time。　Even　if　the　way　was　still　clear　he　no　longer　knew　where　it　lay。　The　world　was　fire　on　every　side。
　Somewhere　up　ahead　he　heard　the　dog　again；　and　thinking　now　that　maybe　the　only　life　he'd　claim　from　this　horror　was　the　hound's；　he　ran　in　search　of　it。　Tears　were　pouring　from　his　smoke…stung　eyes；　he　could　barely　focus　on　the　ground　he　was　stumbling　across。　The　barking　stopped　again；　leaving　him　without　a　beacon。　There　was　no　way　to　go　but　forward；　hoping　the　silence　didn't　mean　the　dog　had　succumbed。　It　hadn't。　He　spotted　it　ahead　of　him　now；　cowering　in　terror。
　As　he　drew　a　breath　to　call　it　to　him　he　saw　the　figure　beyond　it；　stepping　from　the　smoke。　The　fire　had　taken　its　toll　on　Pie　'oh'　pah；　but　he　was　at　least　alive。　His　eyes；　like　Gentle's；　streamed。　There　was　blood　at　his　mouth　and　neck　and；　in　his　arms；　a　forlorn　bundle。　A　child。
　〃Are　there　more？〃　Gentle　yelled。
　Pie's　reply　was　to　glance　back　over　his　shoulder；　towards　a　heap　of　debris　that　had　once　been　a　trailer。　Rather　than　draw　another　lung…cooking　breath　to　reply；　Gentle　started　towards　this　bonfire　but　was　intercepted　by　Pie；　who　passed　over　the　child　in　his　arms；
　〃Take　her；〃　he　said。
　Gentle　threw　aside　his　jacket　and　took　the　child。
　〃Now　get　out！〃　Pie　said。　〃I'll　follow。〃
　He　didn't　wait　to　see　his　instruction　obeyed　but　turned　back　towards　the　debris。
　Gentle　looked　down　at　the　child　he　was　carrying。　She　was　bloody　and　blackened；　surely　dead。　But　perhaps　life　could　be　pumped　back　into　her　if　he　was　quick。　What　was　the　fastest　route　to　safety？　The　way　he'd　e　was　blocked　now；　and　the　ground　ahead　littered　with　burning　wreckage。　Between　left　and　right；　he　chose　left；　because　he　heard　the　incongruous　sound　of　somebody　whistling　somewhere　in　the　smoke：　at　least　proof　that　breath　could　be　drawn　in　that　direction。
　The　dog　came　with　him；　but　only　for　a　few　steps。　Then　it　retreated　again；　despite　the　fact　that　the　air　was　cooler　by　the　step；　and　a　gap　in　the　flames　was　visible　ahead。　Visible；　but　not　empty。　As　Gentle　headed　for　the　place　a　figure　stepped　out　from　behind　one　of　the　bonfires。　It　was　the　whistler；　still　practicing　his　craft；　though　his　hair　was　burning　and　his　hands；　raised　in　front　of　him；　were　smoking　ruins。　He　turned　his　head　as　he　walked　and　looked　at　Gentle。
The　tune　he　whistled　was　charmless；　but　it　was　sweet　beside　the　stare　he　had。　His　eyes　were　like　mirrors；　reflecting　the　fires：　they　flared　and　smoked。　This　was　the　fire　setter；　he　realized；　or　one　of　them。　That　was　why　it　whistled　as　it　burned；　because　this　was　its　paradise。　It　didn't　attempt　to　lay　its　carbonized　hands　on　either　Gentle　or　the　child　but　walked　on　into　the　smoke；　turning　its　stare　back　towards　the　blaze　as　it　did　so；　leaving　Gentle's　route　to　the　perimeter　clear。　The　cooler　air　was　heady；　it　dizzied　him；　made　him　stumble。　He　held　on　tight　to　the　child；　his　only　thought　now　to　get　it　out　into　the　street；　in　which　endeavor　he　was　aided　by　two　masked　firemen　who'd　seen　his　approach　and　came　to　meet　him　now；　arms　outstretched。　One　took　the　child　from　him；　the　other　bore　him　up　as　his　legs　gave　way　beneath　him。
　〃There's　people　alive　in　there！〃　he　said；　looking　back　towards　the　fire。　〃You've　got　to　get　them　out！〃
　His　rescuer　didn't　leave　his　side　till　he'd　got　Gentle　through　the　fence　and　into　the　street。　Then　there　were　other　hands　to　take　charge。　Ambulance　attendants　with　stretchers　and　blankets；　telling　him　that　he　was　safe　now　and　everything　would　be　all　right。　But　it　wasn't；　not　as　long　as　Pie　was　in　the　fire。　He　shrugged　off　the　blanket　and　refused　the　oxygen　mask　they　were　ready　to　clamp　to　his　face；　insisting　that　he　wanted　no　help。　With　so　many　others　in　need；　they　didn't　waste　time　attempting　to　persuade　him　but　went　to　aid　those　who　were　sobbing　and　shrieking　on　all　sides。　They　were　the　lucky　ones；　who　had　voices　to　raise。　He　saw　others　being　carried　past　who　were　too　far　gone　to　plain；　and　still　others　lying　beneath　makeshift　shrouds　on　the　pavement；　blackened　limbs　jutting　out　here　and　there。
　He　turned　his　back　on　this　horror　and　began　to　make　his　way　around　the　edge　of　the　encampment。　The　fence　was　being　torn　down　to　allow　the　hoses；　which　thronged　the　street　like　mating　snakes；　access　to　the　fire。　The　engines　pumped　and　roared；　their　reeling　blue　lights　no　petition　for　the　fierce　brightness　of　the　fire　itself。　By　that　blaze　he　saw　a　substantial　crowd　had　gathered　to　watch。　They　raised　a　cheer　as　the　fence　was　toppled；　sending　plagues　of　fireflies　up　as　it　fell。　He　moved　on　as　the　firefighters　advanced　into　the　conflagration；　bringing　their　hoses　to　bear　on　the　heart　of　the　fire。　By　the　time　he'd　made　a　half　circuit　of　the　site　and　was　standing　opposite　the　breach　they'd　made；　the　flames　were　already　in　retreat　in　several　places；　smoke　and　steam　replacing　their　fury。　He　watched　them　gain　ground　from　his　new　vantage　point；　hoping　for　some　glimpse　of　life；　until　the　appearance　of　another　two　machines　and　a　further　group　of　firefighters　drove　him　on　around　the　perimeter；　back　to　the　place　from　which　he'd　emerged。
　There　was　no　sign　of　Pie　'oh'　pah；　either　being　carried　from　the　blaze　or　standing　among　those　few　survivors　who；　like　Gentle；　had　refused　to　be　taken　away　to　be　tended。　The　smoke　issuing　from　the　fire's　steady　defeat　was　thickening；　and　by　the　time　he　got　back　to　the　row　of　bodies　on　the　pavement…the　number　of　which　had　doubled…the　whole　scene　was　barely　visible　through　the　pall。　He　looked　down　at　the　shrouded　forms。　Was　one　of　them　Pie　'oh'　pah？　As　he　approached　the　nearest　of　them　a　hand　was　laid　on　his　shoulder；　and　he　turned　to　face　a　policeman　whose　features　were　those　of　a　boy　soprano；　smooth　and　troubled。
　〃Aren't　you　the　one　who　brought　out　the　kid？〃　he　said。
　〃Yes。　Is　she　all　right？〃
　〃I'm　sorry；　mate。　I'm　afraid　she's　dead。　Was　she　your　kid？〃
　He　shook　his　head。　〃There　was　somebody　else。　A　black　guy　with　long　curly　hair。　He　had　blood　on　his　face。　Has　he　e　out　of　there？〃
　Formal　language　now：　〃I　haven't　seen　anybody。of　that　description。〃
　Gentle　looked　back　towards　the　bodies　on　the　pavement。
　〃It's　no　use　looking　there；〃　the　policeman　said。　〃They're　all　black　now；　whatever　color　they　started　out。〃
　〃I　have　to　look；〃　Gentle　said。
　〃I'm　telling　you　it's　no　use。　You　wouldn't　recognize　them。　Why　don't　you　let　me　put　you　in　an　ambulance？　You　need　seeing　to。〃
　〃No。　I　have　to　keep　looking；〃　Gentle　said；　and　was　about　to　move　off　when　the　policeman　took　hold　of　his　arm。
　〃I　think　you'd　be　better　away　from　the　fence；　sir；〃　he　said。　〃There's　some　danger　of　explosions。〃
　〃But　he　could　still　be　in　there。〃
　〃If　he　is；　sir；　I　think　he's　gone。　There's　not　much　chance　of　anybody　else　ing　out　alive。　Let　me　take　you　to　the　police　line。　You　can　watch　from　there。〃
　Gentle　shook　off　the　man's　hold。
　〃I'll　go；〃　he　said。　〃I　don't　need　an　escort。〃
　It　took　an　hour　for　the　fire　to　be　finally　brought　under　control；　by　which　time　it　had　little　left　to　consume。　During　that　hour　all　Gentle　could　do　was　wait　behind　the　cordon　and　watch　as　the　ambulances　came　and　went；　ferrying　the　last　of　the　injured　away　and　then　taking　the　bodies。　As　the　boy　soprano　had　predicted；　no　further　victims　were　brought　out；　dead　or　alive；　though　Gentle　waited　until　all　but　a　few　late　arrivals　among　the　crowd　had　left；　and　the　fire　was　almost　pletely　doused。　Only　when　the　last　of　the　firelighters　emerged　from　the　crematorium；　and　the　hoses　were　turned　off；　did　he　give　up　hope。　It　was　almost　two　in　the　morning。　His　limbs　were　burdened　with　exhaustion；　but　they　were　light　beside　the　weight　in　his　chest。　To　go　heavyhearted　was　no　poet's　conceit：　it　felt　as　though　the　pump　had　turned　to　lead　and　was　bruising　the　plush　meat　o