cb.booksofblood-第14部分

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il　of　pine　needles　that　the　still…accelerating　tree　was　throwing　off。
　　Now　the　lights　were　spinning。
　　The　books；　having　flung　themselves　off　the　shelves；　had　joined　the　tarantella。
　　Jack　could　see　the　enemy；　in　his　mind's　eye；　racing　between　the　objects　like　a　juggler　spinning　plates　on　sticks；　trying　to　keep　them　all　moving　at　once。　It　must　be　exhausting　work；　he　thought。　The　demon　was　probably　close　to　collapse。　It　couldn't　be　thinking　straight。　Overexcited。　Impulsive。　Vulnerable。　This　must　be　the　moment；　if　ever　there　was　a　moment；　to　join　battle　at　last。　To　face　the　thing；　defy　it；　and　trap　it。
　　For　its　part；　the　Yattering　was　enjoying　this　orgy　of　destruction。　It　flung　every　movable　object　into　the　fray；　setting　everything　spinning。
　　It　watched　with　satisfaction　as　the　daughters　twitched　and　scurried；　it　laughed　to　see　the　old　man　stare；　pop…eyed；　at　this　preposterous　ballet。
　　Surely　he　was　nearly　mad；　wasn't　he？
　　The　beauties　had　reached　the　door；　their　hair　and　skin　full　of　needles。　Polo　didn't　see　them　leave。　He　ran　across　the　room；　dodging　a　rain　of　ornaments　to　do　so；　and　picked　up　a　brass　toasting　fork　which　the　enemy　had　overlooked。　Bric…a…brac　filled　the　air　around　his　head；　dancing　around　with　sickening　speed。　His　flesh　was　bruised　and　punctured。　But　the　exhilaration　of　joining　battle　had　overtaken　him；　and　he　set　about　beating　the　books；　and　the　clocks；　and　the　china　to　smithereens。　Like　a　man　in　a　cloud　of　locusts　he　ran　around　the　room；　bringing　down　his　favourite　books　in　a　welter　of　fluttering　pages；　smashing　whirling　Dresden；　shattering　the　lamps。　A　litter　of　broken　possessions　swamped　the　floor；　some　of　it　still　twitching　as　the　life　went　out　of　the　fragments。　But　for　every　object　brought　low；　there　were　a　dozen　still　spinning；　still　whining。
　　He　could　hear　Gina　at　the　door；　yelling　to　him　to　get　out；　to　leave　it　alone。
　　But　it　was　so　enjoyable；　playing　against　the　enemy　more　directly　than　he'd　ever　allowed　himself　before。　He　didn't　want　to　give　up。　He　wanted　the　demon　to　show　itself；　to　be　known；　to　be　recognized。
　　He　wanted　confrontation　with　the　Old　One's　emissary　once　and　for　all。
　　Without　warning　the　tree　gave　way　to　the　dictates　of　centrifugal　force；　and　exploded。　The　noise　was　like　a　howl　of　death。　Branches；　twigs；　needles；　balls；　lights；　wire；　ribbons；　flew　across　the　room。　Jack；　his　back　to　the　explosion；　felt　a　gust　of　energy　hit　him　hard；　and　he　was　flung　to　the　ground。　The　back　of　his　neck　and　his　scalp　were　shot　full　of　pine…needles。　A　branch；　naked　of　greenery；　shot　past　his　head　and　impaled　the　sofa。　Fragments　of　tree　pattered　to　the　carpet　around　him。
　　Now　other　objects　around　the　room；　spun　beyond　the　tolerance　of　their　structures；　were　exploding　like　the　tree。　The　television　blew　up；　sending　a　lethal　wave　of　glass　across　the　room；　much　of　which　buried　itself　in　the　opposite　wall。　Fragments　of　the　television's　innards；　so　hot　they　singed　the　skin；　fell　on　Jack；　as　he　elbowed　himself　towards　the　door　like　a　soldier　under　bombardment。
　　The　room　was　so　thick　with　a　barrage　of　shards　it　was　like　a　fog。　The　cushions　had　lent　their　down　to　the　scene；　snowing　on　the　carpet。　Porcelain　pieces：　a　beautifully…glazed　arm；　a　courtesan's　head；　bounced　on　the　floor　in　front　of　his　nose。
　　Gina　was　crouching　at　the　door；　urging　him　to　hurry；　her　eyes　narrowed　against　the　hail。　As　Jack　reached　the　door；　and　felt　her　arms　around　him；　he　swore　he　could　hear　laughter　from　the　lounge。　Tangible；　audible　laughter；　rich　and　satisfied。
　　Amanda　was　standing　in　the　hall；　her　hair　full　of　pine…needles；　staring　down　at　him。　He　pulled　his　legs　through　the　doorway　and　Gina　slammed　the　door　shut　on　the　demolition。
　　〃What　is　it？〃　she　demanded。　〃Poltergeist？　Ghost？　Mother's　ghost？〃　The　thought　of　his　dead　wife　being　responsible　for　such　wholesale　destruction　struck　Jack　as　funny。
　　Amanda　was　half　smiling。　Good；　he　thought；　she's　ing　out　of　it。　Then　he　met　the　vacant　look　in　her　eyes　and　the　truth　dawned。　She'd　broken；　her　sanity　had　taken　refuge　where　this　fantastique　couldn't　get　at　it。
　　〃What's　in　there？〃　Gina　was　asking；　her　grip　on　his　arm　so　strong　it　stopped　the　blood。
　　〃I　don't　know；〃　he　lied。　〃Amanda？〃　Amanda's　smile　didn't　decay。　She　just　stared　on　at　him；　through　him。
　　〃You　do　know。〃
　　〃No。〃
　　〃You're　lying。〃
　　〃I　think。。。〃　He　picked　himself　off　the　floor；　brushing　the　pieces　of　porcelain；　the　feathers；　the　glass；　off　his　shirt　and　trousers。
　　〃I　think　。　。　。　I　shall　go　for　a　walk。〃　Behind　him；　in　the　lounge；　the　last　vestiges　of　whining　had　stopped。　The　air　in　the　hallway　was　electric　with　unseen　presences。　It　was　very　close　to　him；　invisible　as　ever；　but　so　close。　This　was　the　most　dangerous　time。　He　mustn't　lose　his　nerve　now。　He　must　stand　up　as　though　nothing　had　happened；　he　must　leave　Amanda　be；　leave　explanations　and　recriminations　until　it　was　all　over　and　done　with。
　　〃Walk？〃　Gina　said；　disbelievingly。　〃Yes。。。　walk。。。　I　need　some　fresh　air。〃
　　〃You　can't　leave　us　here。〃
　　〃I'll　find　somebody　to　help　us　clear　up。〃
　　〃But　Mandy。〃
　　〃She'll　get　over　it。　Leave　her　be。〃　That　was　hard。　That　was　almost　unforgivable。　But　it　was　said　now。
　　He　walked　unsteadily　towards　the　front　door；　feeling　nauseous　after　so　much　spinning。　At　his　back　Gina　was　raging。
　　〃You　can't　just　leave！　Are　you　out　of　your　mind？〃
　　〃I　need　the　air；〃　he　said；　as　casually　as　his　thumping　heart　and　his　parched　throat　would　permit。　〃So　I'll　just　go　out　for　a　moment。〃　No；　the　Yattering　said。　No；　no；　no。
　　It　was　behind　him；　Polo　could　feel　it。　So　angry　now；　so　ready　to　twist　off　his　head。　Except　that　it　wasn't　allowed；　ever　to　touch　him。　But　he　could　feel　its　resentment　like　a　physical　presence。
　　He　took　another　step　towards　the　front　door。
　　It　was　with　him　still；　dogging　his　every　step。　His　shadow；　his　fetch；　unshakeable。　Gina　shrieked　at　him；　〃You　son…of…a…bitch；　look　at　Mandy！　She's　lost　her　mind！〃　No；　he　mustn't　look　at　Mandy。　If　he　looked　at　Mandy　he　might　weep；　he　might　break　down　as　the　thing　wanted　him　to；　then　everything　would　be　lost。
　　〃She'll　be　all　right；〃　he　said；　barely　above　a　whisper。　He　reached　for　the　front　door　handle。　The　demon　bolted　the　door；　quickly；　loudly。　No　temper　left　for　pretence　now。
　　Jack；　keeping　his　movements　as　even　as　possible；　unbolted　the　door；　top　and　bottom。　It　bolted　again。
　　It　was　thrilling；　this　game；　it　was　also　terrifying。　If　he　pushed　too　far　surely　the　demon's　frustration　would　override　its　lessons？
　　Gently；　smoothly；　he　unbolted　the　door　again。　Just　as　gently；　just　as　smoothly；　the　Yattering　bolted　it。
　　Jack　wondered　how　long　he　could　keep　this　up　for。　Somehow　he　had　to　get　outside：　he　had　to　coax　it　over　the　threshold。　One　step　was　all　that　the　law　required；　according　to　his　researches。
　　One　simple　step。
　　Unbolted。　Bolted。　Unbolted。　Bolted。
　　Gina　was　standing　two　or　three　yards　behind　her　father。　She　didn't　understand　what　she　was　seeing；　but　it　was　obvious　her　father　was　doing　battle　with　someone；　or　something。
　　〃Daddy…〃　she　began。
　　〃Shut　up；〃　he　said　benignly；　grinning　as　he　unbolted　the　door　for　the　seventh　time。　There　was　a　shiver　of　lunacy　in　the　grin；　it　was　too　wide　and　too　easy。
　　Inexplicably；　she　returned　the　smile。　It　was　grim；　but　genuine。　Whatever　was　at　issue　here；　she　loved　him。
　　Polo　made　a　break　for　the　back　door。　The　demon　was　three　paces　ahead　of　him；　scooting　through　the　house　like　a　sprinter；　and　bolting　the　door　before　Jack　could　even　reach　the　handle。　The　key　was　turned　in　the　lock　by　invisible　hands；　then　crushed　to　dust　in　the　air。
　　Jack　feigned　a　move　towards　the　window　beside　the　back　door　but　the　blinds　were　pulled　down　and　the　shutters　slammed。　The　Yattering；　too　concerned　with　the　window　to　watch　Jack　closely；　missed　his　doubling　back　through　the　house。
　　When　it　saw　the　trick　that　was　being　played　it　let　out　a　little　screech；　and　gave　chase；　almost　sliding　into　Jack　on　the　smoothly…polished　floor。　It　avoided　the　collision　only　by　the　most　balletic　of　manoeuvres。　That　would　be　fatal　indeed：　to　touch　the　man　in　the　heat　of　the　moment。
　　Polo　was　again　at　the　front　door　and　Gina；　wise　to　her　father's　strategy；　had　unbolted　it　while　the　Yattering　and　Jack　fought　at　the　back　door。　Jack　had　prayed　she'd　take　the　opportunity　to　open　it。　She　had。　It　stood　slightly　ajar：　The　icy　air　of　the　crisp　afternoon　curled　its　way　into　the　hallway。
　　Jack　covered　the　last　yards　to　the　door　in　a　flash；　feeling　without　hearing　the　howl　of　plaint　the　Yattering　loosed　as　it　saw　its　victim　escaping　into　the　outside　world。
　　It　was　not　an　ambitious　creature。　All　it　wanted　at　that　moment；　beyond　any　other　dream；　was　to　take　this　human's　skull　between　its　palms　and　make　a　nonsense　of　it。　Crush　it　to　smithereens；　and　pour　the　hot　thought　out　on　to　the　snow。　To　be　done　with　Jack　J。　Polo；　forever　and　forever。
　　Was　that　so　much　to　ask？
　　Polo　had　stepped　into　the　squeaky…fresh　snow；　his　slippers　and　trouser…bottoms　buried　in　chill。　By　the　time　the　fury　reached　the　step　Jack　was　already　three　or　four　yards　away；　marching　up　the　path　towards　the　gate。　Escaping。　Escaping。
　　The　Yattering　howled　again；　forgetting　its