sk.dreamcatcher-第126部分

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p。　In　the　following　moments　Kurtz　took　back　every　unkind　thought　he'd　had　about　Freddy's　driving。　His　second　in　mand　simply　twisted　the　steering　wheel　to　the　right　and　punched　the　gas　when　the　Humvee　started　to　skid。　The　big　vehicle　took　hold　and　leaped　at　the　break　in　the　road。　It　hit　with　a　tremendous　jouncing　crash。　Kurtz　flew　upward；　hitting　the　ceiling　hard　enough　to　produce　a　shower　of　stars　in　his　field　of　vision。　Perlmutter's　arms　flailed　like　those　of　a　corpse；　his　head　snapped　backward　and　then　forward。　The　Humvee　passed　close　enough　to　the　Subaru　to　tear　the　doorhandle　off　the　car's　passenger　side。　Then　it　was　bucketing　onward；　now　chasing　a　single　pair　of　relatively　fresh　tire　tracks。
　　　　Breathing　down　your　neck　now；　Owen；　Kurtz　thought。　Right　down　your　everloving　neck；　God　rot　your　blue　eyes。
　　　　The　only　thing　that　worried　him　was　that　single　burst　of　fire。　What　was　that　about？　Whatever　it　was；　it　wasn't　repeated。
　　　　Then；　up　ahead；　another　of　those　blotches　in　the　snow。　This　one　was　olive…green。　This　one　was　the　other　Hummer。　They　were　gone；　probably　gone；　but…
　　　　'Lock　and　load；'　Kurtz　said　to　Freddy。　His　voice　was　just　a　trifle　shrill。　'It's　time　for　someone　to　pay　the　piper。'


13

By　the　time　Owen　got　to　the　place　where　East　Street　ended　（or　turned　into　the　northeast…meandering　Fitzpatrick　Road；　depending　on　your　interpretation）；　he　could　hear　Kurtz　behind　him　and　guessed　that　Kurtz　could　probably　hear　him；　as　well　…　the　Humvees　weren't　as　loud　as　Harleys；　but　they　were　a　long　way　from　quiet。
　　　　Jonesy's　footprints　were　entirely　gone　now；　but　Owen　could　see　the　path　which　led　down　from　the　road　and　along　the　shore　of　the　Reservoir。
　　　　He　killed　the　engine。　'Henry；　it　looks　like　we're　walking　from　h…'
　　　　Owen　stopped。　He　had　been　concentrating　too　hard　on　his　driving　to　look　behind　him　or　even　check　the　rearview　mirror；　and　he　was　unprepared　for　what　he　now　saw。　Unprepared　and　appalled。
　　　　Henry　and　Duddits　were　wrapped　in　what　Owen　first　believed　was　a　terminal　embrace；　their　stubbly　cheeks　pressed　together；　their　eyes　closed；　their　faces　and　coats　smeared　with　blood。　He　could　see　neither　of　them　breathing　and　thought　they　had　actually　died　together　…　Duddits　of　his　leukemia；　Henry　perhaps　of　a　heart　attack　brought　on　by　exhaustion　and　the　constant　unrelieved　stress　of　the　last　thirty　hours　or　so　…　and　then　he　saw　the　minute　twitch　of　the　eyelids。　Both　sets。
　　　　Embracing。　Splattered　with　blood。　But　not　dead。　Sleeping。
　　　　Dreaming。
　　　　Owen　started　to　call　Henry's　name　again　and　then　reconsidered。　Henry　had　refused　to　leave　the　pound　back　in　Jefferson　Tract　without　freeing　the　detainees；　and　although　they'd　gotten　away　with　that　once；　it　had　only　been　through　the　sheerest　luck　。　。　。　or　providence；　if　you　believed　that　was　any　more　than　a　TV　show。　Nevertheless；　they　bad　gotten　Kurtz　on　their　tail；　Kurtz　had　hung　on　like　a　booger；　and　now　he　was　a　lot　closer　than　he　would　have　been　had　Owen　and　Henry　simply　crept　away　into　the　storm。
　　　　Well；　I　wouldn't　change　that；　Owen　thought；　opening　the　driver's　door　and　getting　out。　From　somewhere　north；　away　in　the　white　blank　of　the　storm；　came　the　scream　of　an　eagle　bitching　about　the　weather。　From　behind；　south；　came　the　approaching　racket　of　Kurtz；　that　annoying　madman。　It　was　impossible　to　tell　how　close　because　of　the　fucking　snow。　ing　down　this　fast　and　hard；　it　was　like　a　sound…baffle。　He　could　be　two　miles　back；　he　could　be　a　lot　closer。　Freddy　would　be　with　him；　fucking　Freddy；　the　perfect　soldier；　Dolph　Lundgren　from　hell。
　　　　Owen　went　around　to　the　back　of　the　car；　slipping　and　sliding　in　the　snow；　cursing　it；　and　popped　the　Humvee's　back　gate；　expecting　automatic　weapons；　hoping　for　a　portable　rocket…launcher。　No　rocket…launcher；　no　grenades；　either；　but　there　were　four　MP5　auto…fire　rifles；　and　a　carton　containing　long　banana…clips；　the　ones　that　held　a　hundred　and　twenty　rounds。
　　　　He　had　played　it　Henry's　way　back　at　the　pound；　and　Owen　guessed　that　they　had　saved　at　least　some　lives；　but　he　would　not　play　it　Henry's　way　this　time　…　if　he　hadn't　paid　enough　for　the　Rapeloews'　goddam　serving　platter；　he　would　simply　have　to　live　with　the　debt。　Not　for　long；　either；　if　Kurtz　had　his　way。
　　　　Henry　was　either　sleeping；　unconscious；　or　joined　to　his　dying　childhood　friend　in　some　weird　mind…meld。　Let　it　be；　then。　Awake　and　by　his　side；　Henry　might　balk　at　what　needed　to　be　done；　especially　if　Henry　was　right　in　believing　his　other　friend　was　still　alive；　hiding　out　in　the　mind　the　alien　now　controlled。　Owen　would　not　balk　。　。　。　and　with　the　telepathy　gone；　he　wouldn't　hear　Jonesy　pleading　for　his　life　if　he　was　still　in　there。　The　Glock　was　a　good　weapon；　but　not　sure　enough。
　　　　The　MP5　would　rip　the　body　of　Gary　Jones　apart。
　　　　Owen　grabbed　one；　plus　three　extra　clips　which　he　stuffed　into　his　coat　pockets。　Kurtz　close　now　…　close；　close；　close。　He　looked　back　at　East　Street；　almost　expecting　to　see　the　second　Humvee　materializing　like　a　green…brown　ghost；　but　as　yet　there　was　nothing。　Praise　Jesus；　as　Kurtz　would　say。
　　　　The　Hummer's　windows　were　already　glazing　over　with　snow；　but　he　could　see　the　dim　shapes　of　the　two　men　in　the　rear　seat　as　he　passed　back　along　the　body　of　the　vehicle；　trotting　now。　Still　locked　in　each　other's　arms。　'Goodbye；　boys；'　he　said。　'Sleep　well。'　And　with　any　luck　they　would　still　be　sleeping　when　Kurtz　and　Freddy　arrived；　putting　an　end　to　their　lives　before　moving　on　after　their　main　quarry。　
　　　　Owen　stopped　suddenly；　skidding　in　the　snow　and　grabbing　the　Humvee's　long　hood　to　keep　from　falling。　Duddits　was　clearly　a　lost　cause；　but　he　might　be　able　to　save　Henry　Devlin。　It　was　just　possible。
　　　　No！　part　of　his　mind　screamed　as　he　started　back　for　the　rear　door。　No；　there's　no　time！
　　　　But　Owen　decided　to　gamble　that　there　was　…　to　gamble　the　whole　world。　Maybe　to　pay　a　little　more　on　what　he　owed　for　the　Rapeloews'　plate；　maybe　for　what　he　had　done　yesterday　（those　naked　gray　figures　standing　around　their　downed　ship　with　their　arms　held　up；　as　if　in　surrender）；　probably　just　for　Henry；　who　had　told　him　they　would　be　heroes　and　who　had　tried　splendidly　to　fulfill　that　promise。
　　　　No　sympathy　for　the　devil；　he　thought；　wrenching　open　the　rear　door。　No　sir；　zero　sympathy　for　that　motherfucker。
　　　　Duddits　was　closer。　Owen　seized　him　by　the　collar　of　his　big　blue　duffel　coat　and　yanked。　Duddits　toppled　sideways　onto　the　seat。　His　hat　fell　off；　revealing　his　shining　bald　skull。　Henry；　with　his　arms　still　around　Duddits's　shoulders；　came　with　him；　landing　on　top。　His　eyes　didn't　open　but　he　groaned　softly。　Owen　leaned　forward　and　whispered　fiercely　into　Henry's　ear。
　　　　；　Don't　sit　up。　For　the　love　of　God；　Henry；　don't　you　sit　up！'
　　　　Owen　withdrew；　slammed　the　door；　backed　off　three　steps；　placed　the　butt　of　the　rifle　against　his　hip；　and　fired　a　burst。　The　Humvee's　windows　turned　to　milk；　then　fell　in。　Casings　clinked　around　Owen's　feet。　He　stepped　forward　again　and　looked　through　the　shattered　window　into　the　rear　seat。　Henry　and　Duddits　still　lay　there；　now　covered　with　crumbles　of　Saf…T…Glas　as　well　as　Duddits's　blood；　and　to　Owen　they　looked　like　the　two　deadest　people　he　had　ever　seen。　Owen　hoped　Kurtz　would　be　in　too　much　of　a　hurry　for　a　close　examination。　In　any　case；　he　had　done　the　best　he　could。
　　　　He　heard　a　hard　metallic　jouncing　sound　and　grinned。　That　placed　Kurtz；　by　God　…　they'd　reached　the　washout　where　the　Subaru　had　finished　up。　He　wished　mightily　that　Kurtz　and　Freddy　had　rear…ended　the　fucking　thing；　but　the　sound　had　not；　unfortunately；　been　that　loud。　Still；　it　placed　them。　A　mile　back；　a　mile　back　at　least。　Not　as　bad　as　he'd　thought。　　
　　　　'Plenty　of　time；'　he　muttered；　and　that　might　be　true　of　Kurtz；　but　what　about　the　other　end？　Where　was　Mr　Gray　now？
　　　　Holding　the　MP5　by　the　strap；　Owen　started　down　the　path　that　led　to　Shaft　12。


14

Mr　Gray　had　discovered　another　unlovely　human　emotion：　panic。　He　had　e　all　this　way　…　light…years　through　space；　miles　through　the　snow　…　to　be　balked　by　Jonesy's　muscles；　which　were　weak　and　out　of　shape；　and　the　iron　shaft　cover；　which　was　much　heavier　than　he　had　expected。　He　yanked　down　on　the　crowbar　until　Jonesy's　back…muscles　screamed　in　agonized　protest　。　。　。　and　was　finally　rewarded　by　a　brief　wink　of　darkness　from　beneath　the　edge　of　the　rusty　iron。　And　a　grinding　sound　as　it　moved　a　bit　…　perhaps　no　more　than　an　inch　or　two　…　on　the　concrete。　Then　Jonesy's　lower　back　muscles　locked　up　and　Mr　Gray　staggered　away　from　the　shaft；　crying　out　through　clenched　teeth　（thanks　to　his　immunity；　Jonesy　still　had　a　full　set　of　them）　and　pressing　his　hands　to　the　base　of　Jonesy's　spine；　as　if　to　keep　it　from　exploding。
　　　　Lad　let　out　a　series　of　yipping　whines。　Mr　Gray　looked　at　him　and　saw　that　things　had　now　reached　the　critical　juncture。　Although　he　was　still　asleep；　Lad's　abdomen　was　now　so　grotesquely　swelled　that　one　of　his　legs　stuck　stiffly　up　in　the　air。　The　skin　of　his　lower　belly　had　stretched　to　the　point　of　splitting；　and　the　veins　there　pulsed　with　clocklike　rapidity。　A　trickle　of　bright　blood　spilled　out　from　beneath　his　tall。
　　　　Mr　Gray　looked　balefully　at　the　crowbar　jutting　from　the　slot　in　the　iron