ib.thewaspfactory-第6部分

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　　I　crawled　quietly　up　the　slope；　the　grass　sliding　under　my　chest　and　belly；　my　legs　straining　to　propel　my　bulk　up　and　forward。　I　was　down…wind；　of　course；　and　the　breeze　was　stiff　enough　to　cover　most　small　noises。　As　far　as　I　could　see；　there　were　no　rabbit　sentries　on　the　hill。　I　stopped　about　two　metres　down　from　the　summit　and　quietly　cocked　the　gun；　inspecting　the　posite　steel　and　nylon　pellet　before　placing　it　in　the　chamber　and　snicking　the　gun　closed。　I　closed　my　eyes　and　thought　about　the　trapped；　pressed　spring　and　the　little　slug　sitting　at　the　shiny　bottom　of　the　rifled　tube。　Then　I　crawled　to　the　top　of　the　hill。
　　
　　At　first　I　thought　I　would　have　to　wait。　The　Grounds　looked　empty　in　the　afternoon　light；　and　only　the　grass　moved　in　the　wind。　I　could　see　the　holes　and　the　little　piles　and　scatters　of　droppings；　and　I　could　see　the　gorse　bushes　on　the　far　slope　above　the　bank　which　held　most　of　the　holes；　where　the　rabbit…runs　snaked　tiny　paths　like　jagged　tunnels　through　the　bushes；　but　there　was　no　sign　of　the　animals　themselves。　It　was　in　those　rabbit…runs　through　the　gorse　that　some　of　the　local　boys　used　to　set　snares。　I　found　the　wire　loops；　though；　having　seen　the　boys　set　them；　and　I　tore　them　out　or　put　them　under　the　grass　on　the　paths　the　boys　used　to　take　when　they　came　to　inspect　their　traps。　Whether　any　of　them　was　tripped　up　by　his　own　snare　or　not　I　don't　know；　but　I'd　like　to　think　they　did　go　sprawling　head　first。　Anyway；　they　or　their　replacements　don't　set　snares　any　more；　I　suppose　it　has　gone　out　of　fashion　and　they　are　out　spraying　slogans　on　walls；　sniffing　glue　or　trying　to　get　laid。
　　
　　Animals　rarely　surprise　me　but　there　was　something　about　the　buck；　once　I　noticed　it　sitting　there；　that　froze　me　for　a　second。　It　must　have　been　there　all　the　time；　sitting　motionless　and　staring　straight　at　me　from　the　far　edge　of　the　level　area　of　the　Grounds；　but　I　hadn't　noticed　it　at　first。　When　I　did；　something　about　its　stillness　stilled　me　for　a　moment。　Without　actually　moving　physically；　I　shook　my　head　clear　inside　and　decided　that　the　big　male　would　make　a　fine　head　for　a　Pole。　The　rabbit　might　as　well　have　been　stuffed　for　all　the　movement　it　made；　and　I　could　see　that　it　definitely　was　staring　right　at　me；　its　little　eyes　not　blinking；　its　tiny　nose　not　sniffing；　its　ears　untwitched。　I　stared　straight　back　at　it　and　very　slowly　brought　the　gun　round　to　bear；　moving　it　first　one　way　then　slightly　the　other；　so　that　it　looked　like　something　swaying　with　the　wind　in　the　grass。　It　took　about　a　minute　to　get　the　rifle　in　place　and　my　head　in　the　correct　position；　cheek　by　stock；　and　still　the　beast　hadn't　moved　a　millimetre。
　　
　　Four　times　larger；　his　big　whiskered　head　split　neatly　into　four　by　the　crosshairs；　he　looked　even　more　impressive；　and　just　as　immobile。　I　frowned　and　brought　my　head　up；　suddenly　thinking　that　it　might　just　be　stuffed；　perhaps　somebody　was　having　a　laugh　at　my　expense。　Town　boys？　My　father？　Surely　not　Eric　yet　？　It　was　a　stupid　thing　to　have　done；　I'd　moved　my　head　far　too　quickly　for　it　to　look　natural；　and　the　buck　shot　off　up　the　bank。　I　dipped　my　head　and　brought　the　gun　up　at　the　same　time　without　thinking。　There　was　no　time　to　get　back　into　the　right　position；　take　a　breath　and　gently　squeeze　the　trigger；　it　was　up　and　bang；　and　with　my　whole　body　unbalanced　and　both　hands　on　the　gun　I　fell　forward；　rolling　as　I　did　so　to　keep　the　gun　out　the　sand。
　　
　　When　I　looked　up；　cradling　the　gun　and　gasping；　my　backside　sunk　in　sand；　I　couldn't　see　the　rabbit。　I　forced　the　gun　down　and　hit　myself　on　the　knees。　'Shit！'　I　told　myself。
　　
　　The　buck　wasn't　in　a　hole；　however。　It　wasn't　even　near　the　bank　where　the　holes　were。　It　was　tearing　across　the　level　ground　in　great　leaps；　heading　right　at　me　and　seeming　to　shake　and　shiver　in　mid…air　with　every　bound。　It　was　ing　at　me　like　a　bullet；　head　shaking；　lips　curled　back；　teeth　long　and　yellow　and　by　far　the　biggest　I'd　ever　seen　on　a　rabbit；　live　or　dead。　Its　eyes　looked　like　coiled　slugs。　Blobs　of　red　arced　from　its　left　haunch　with　every　pouncing　leap；　it　was　almost　on　me；　and　I　was　sat　there　staring。
　　
　　There　was　no　time　to　reload。　By　the　time　I　started　to　react　there　was　no　time　to　do　anything　except　at　the　instinctive　level。　My　hands　left　the　gun　hanging　in　mid…air　above　my　knees　and　went　for　the　catapult；　which　as　always　was　hanging　on　my　belt；　the　arm…rest　stuck　down　between　that　and　my　cords。　Even　my　quick…reaction　steelies　were　beyond　reach　in　time；　though；　the　rabbit　was　on　me　in　a　half…second；　heading　straight　for　my　throat。
　　
　　I　caught　it　with　the　catapult；　the　thick　black　tubing　of　the　rubber　twisting　once　in　the　air　as　I　scissored　my　hands　and　fell　back；　letting　the　buck　go　over　my　head　and　then　kicking　with　my　legs　and　turning　myself　so　that　I　was　level　with　it　where　it　lay；　kicking　and　struggling　with　the　power　of　a　wolverine；　spreadeagled　on　the　sand　slope　with　its　neck　caught　in　the　black　rubber。　Its　head　twisted　this　way　and　that　as　it　tried　to　reach　my　fingers　with　its　chopping　teeth。　I　hissed　through　my　own　teeth　at　it　and　tugged　the　rubber　tighter；　then　tighter　still。　The　buck　thrashed　and　spat　and　made　a　high　keening　noise　I　didn't　think　rabbits　were　capable　of　and　beat　its　legs　on　the　ground。　I　was　so　rattled　I　glanced　round　to　make　sure　this　wasn't　a　signal　for　an　army　of　bunnies　like　this　Dobermann　of　a　beast　to　e　up　from　behind　and　tear　me　to　shreds。
　　
　　The　damn　thing　wouldn't　die！　The　rubber　was　stretching　and　stretching　and　not　tightening　enough；　and　I　couldn't　move　my　hands　for　fear　of　it　tearing　the　flesh　off　a　finger　or　biting　my　nose　off。　The　same　consideration　stopped　me　from　butting　the　animal；　I　wasn't　going　to　put　my　face　near　those　teeth。　I　couldn't　get　a　knee　up　to　break　its　back；　either；　because　I　was　almost　slipping　down　the　slope　as　it　was；　and　I　couldn't　possibly　get　any　purchase　on　that　surface　with　only　one　leg。　It　was　crazy！　This　wasn't　Africa！　It　was　a　rabbit；　not　a　lion！　What　the　hell　was　happening　here？
　　
　　It　finally　bit　me；　twisting　its　neck　more　than　I　would　have　thought　possible　and　catching　my　right　index　finger　right　on　the　knuckle。
　　
　　That　was　it。　I　screamed　and　pulled　with　all　my　might；　shaking　my　hands　and　my　head　and　throwing　myself　backwards　and　over　as　I　did　so；　banging　one　knee　off　the　gun　where　it　lay；　fallen　in　the　sand。
　　
　　I　ended　up　lying　in　the　scrubby　grass　at　the　bottom　of　the　hill；　my　knuckles　white　as　I　throttled　the　rabbit；　swinging　it　in　front　of　my　face　with　its　neck　held　on　the　thin　black　line　of　rubber　tubing；　now　tied　like　a　knot　on　a　black　string。　I　was　still　shaking；　so　I　couldn't　tell　if　the　vibrations　the　body　made　were　its　or　mine。　Then　the　tubing　gave　way。　The　rabbit　slammed　into　my　left　hand　while　the　other　end　of　the　rubber　whipped　my　right　wrist；　my　arms　flew　out　in　opposite　directions；　crashing　into　the　ground。
　　
　　I　lay　on　my　back；　my　head　on　the　sandy　ground；　staring　out　to　the　side　where　the　body　of　the　buck　lay　at　the　end　of　a　little　curved　line　of　black；　and　tangled　in　the　arm…rest　and　grip　of　the　catapult。　The　animal　was　still。
　　
　　I　looked　up　at　the　sky　and　made　a　fist　with　the　other　hand；　beating　it　into　the　ground。　I　looked　back　at　the　rabbit；　then　got　up　and　knelt　over　it。　It　was　dead；　the　head　rolled　slack；　neck　broken；　when　I　lifted　it。　The　left　haunch　was　matted　red　with　blood　where　my　pellet　had　hit　it。　It　was　big；　size　of　a　tomcat；　the　biggest　rabbit　I'd　ever　seen。　Obviously　I'd　left　the　rabbits　alone　for　too　long；　or　I'd　have　known　about　the　existence　of　such　a　brute。
　　
　　I　sucked　at　the　little　trickle　of　blood　from　my　finger。　My　catapult；　my　pride　and　joy；　the　Black　Destroyer；　itself　destroyed　by　a　rabbit！　Oh；　I　suppose　I　could　have　written　off　and　got　a　new　length　of　rubber；　or　got　old　Cameron　in　the　ironmonger's　shop　to　find　me　something；　but　it　would　never　feel　right　again。　Every　time　I　lifted　it　to　aim　it　at　a　target　living　or　not…this　moment　would　be　at　the　back　of　my　mind。　The　Black　Destroyer　was　finished。
　　
　　I　sat　back　in　the　sand　and　looked　quickly　round　the　area。　Still　no　other　rabbits。　Hardly　surprising。　There　was　no　time　to　waste。　There's　only　one　way　to　react　after　something　like　this。
　　
　　I　got　up；　retrieved　the　rifle；　lying　half…buried　in　the　sand　on　the　slope；　went　to　the　top　of　the　hill；　looked　round；　then　decided　to　risk　leaving　everything　as　it　was。　I　cradled　the　gun　in　my　arms　and　set　off　at　Emergency　Speed；　hurtling　down　the　path　back　to　the　island　at　maximum；　trusting　to　luck　and　adrenalin　that　I　wouldn't　put　a　foot　wrong　and　end　up　lying　gasping　in　the　grass　with　a　multiple　fracture　of　the　femur。　I　used　the　gun　to　balance　myself　with　on　the　tighter　corners；　the　grass　and　the　ground　were　both　dry；　so　it　wasn't　as　risky　as　it　might　have　been。　I　cut　off　the　path　proper　and　charged　up　over　a　dune　and　down　its　other　side　to　where　the　service　pipe　carrying　the　water　and　electricity　to　the　house　appears　out　of　the　sand　and　crosses　the　creek。　I　jumped　the　iron　spikes　and　landed　with　both　feet　on　the　concrete；　then　ran　over　the　narrow　top　of　the　pipe　and　jumped　down　on　to　the　island。
　　
　　Bac