cb.booksofblood-第34部分

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　　〃It's　over　the　next　ridge　。　。　。〃　said　Judd。
　　〃I　don't　think　we　should　go　any　further。〃
　　〃I　have　to　see。〃
　　〃I　don't。　We're　not　supposed　to　be　here。〃
　　〃I　don't　see　any　signs。〃
　　〃They'll　cart　us　away；　deport　us…I　don't　know…I　just　think　…；　Boom。
　　〃I've　got　to　see。〃　The　words　were　scarcely　out　of　his　mouth　when　the　screaming　started。
　　
　　Podujevo　was　screaming：　a　death…cry。　Someone　buried　in　the　weak　flank　had　died　of　the　strain；　and　had　begun　a　chain　of　decay　in　the　system。　One　man　loosed　his　neighbour　and　that　neighbour　loosed　his；　spreading　a　cancer　of　chaos　through　the　body　of　the　city。　The　coherence　of　the　towering　structure　deteriorated　with　terrifying　rapidity　as　the　failure　of　one　part　of　the　anatomy　put　unendurable　pressure　on　the　other。
　　The　masterpiece　that　the　good　citizens　of　Podujevo　had　constructed　of　their　own　flesh　and　blood　tottered　and　then　…a　dynamited　skyscraper；　it　began　to　fall。
　　The　broken　flank　spewed　citizens　like　a　slashed　artery　spitting　blood。　Then；　with　a　graceful　sloth　that　made　the　agonies　of　the　citizens　all　the　more　horrible；　it　bowed　towards　the　earth；　all　its　limbs　dissembling　as　it　fell。
　　The　huge　head；　that　had　brushed　the　clouds　so　recently；　was　flung　back　on　its　thick　neck。　Ten　thousand　mouths　spoke　a　single　scream　for　its　vast　mouth；　a　wordless；　infinitely　pitiable　appeal　to　the　sky。　A　howl　of　loss；　a　howl　of　anticipation；　a　howl　of　puzzlement。　How；　that　scream　demanded；　could　the　day　of　days　end　like　this；　in　a　welter　of　falling　bodies？
　　
　　〃Did　you　hear　that？〃　It　was　unmistakably　human；　though　almost　deafeningly　loud。　Judd's　stomach　convulsed。　He　looked　across　at　Mick；　who　was　as　white　as　a　sheet。
　　Judd　stopped　the　car。
　　〃No；〃　said　Mick。
　　〃Listen…for　Christ's　sake…；　The　din　of　dying　moans；　appeals　and　imprecations　flooded　the　air。　It　was　very　close。
　　〃We've　got　to　go　on　now；〃　Mick　implored。
　　Judd　shook　his　head。　He　was　prepared　for　some　military　spectacle…all　the　Russian　army　massed　over　the　next　hill　…but　that　noise　in　his　ears　was　the　noise　of　human　flesh　…too　human　for　words。　It　reminded　him　of　his　childhood　imaginings　of　Hell；　the　endless；　unspeakable　torments　his　mother　had　threatened　him　with　if　he　failed　to　embrace　Christ。　It　was　a　terror　he'd　forgotten　for　twenty　years。　But　suddenly；　here　it　was　again；　fresh…faced。　Maybe　the　pit　itself　gaped　just　over　the　next　horizon；　with　his　mother　standing　at　its　lip；　inviting　him　to　taste　its　punishments。
　　〃If　you　won't　drive；　I　will。〃　Mick　got　out　of　the　car　and　crossed　in　front　of　it；　glancing　up　the　track　as　he　did　so。　There　was　a　moment's　hesitation；　no　more　than　a　moment's；　when　his　eyes　flickered　with　disbelief；　before　he　turned　towards　the　windscreen；　his　face　even　paler　than　it　had　been　previously　and　said：　〃Jesus　Christ。　。　。〃　in　a　voice　that　was　thick　with　suppressed　nausea。
　　His　lover　was　still　sitting　behind　the　wheel；　his　head　in　his　hands；　trying　to　blot　out　memories。
　　〃Judd。。　。〃　Judd　looked　up；　slowly。　Mick　was　staring　at　him　like　a　wildman；　his　face　shining　with　a　sudden；　icy　sweat。　Judd　looked　past　him。　A　few　metres　ahead　the　track　had　mysteriously　darkened；　as　a　tide　edged　towards　the　car；　a　thick；　deep　tide　of　blood。　Judd's　reason　twisted　and　turned　to　make　any　other　sense　of　the　sight　than　that　inevitable　conclusion。　But　there　was　no　saner　explanation。　It　was　blood；　in　unendurable　abundance；　blood　without　end…And　now；　in　the　breeze；　there　was　the　flavour　of　freshly…opened　carcasses：　the　smell　out　of　the　depths　of　the　human　body；　part　sweet；　part　savoury。
　　Mick　stumbled　back　to　the　passenger's　side　of　the　VW　and　fumbled　weakly　at　the　handle。　The　door　opened　suddenly　and　he　lurched　inside；　his　eyes　glazed。
　　〃Back　up；〃　he　said。
　　Judd　reached　for　the　ignition。　The　tide　of　blood　was　already　sloshing　against　the　front　wheels。　Ahead；　the　world　had　been　painted　red。
　　〃Drive；　for　fuck's　sake；　drive！〃　Judd　was　making　no　attempt　to　start　the　car。
　　〃We　must　look；〃　he　said；　without　conviction；　〃we　have　to。〃
　　〃We　don't　have　to　do　anything；〃　said　Mick；　〃but　get　the　hell　out　of　here。　It's　not　our　business　。　。　。〃
　　〃Plane…crash…；　〃There's　no　smoke。〃
　　〃Those　are　human　voices。〃　Mick's　instinct　was　to　leave　well　alone。　He　could　read　about　the　tragedy　in　a　newspaper…he　could　see　the　pictures　tomorrow　when　they　were　grey　and　grainy。　Today　it　was　too　fresh；　too　unpredictable…Anything　could　be　at　the　end　of　that　track；　bleeding…〃We　must…〃　Judd　started　the　car；　while　beside　him　Mick　began　to　moan　quietly。　The　VW　began　to　edge　forward；　nosing　through　the　river　of　blood；　its　wheels　spinning　in　the　queasy；　foaming　tide。
　　〃No；〃　said　Mick；　very　quietly；　〃please；　no　。　。　〃We　must；〃　was　Judd's　reply。　〃We　must。　We　must。〃
　　
　　Only　a　few　yards　away　the　surviving　city　of　Popolac　was　recovering　from　its　first　convulsions。　It　stared；　with　a　thousand　eyes；　at　the　ruins　of　its　ritual　enemy；　now　spread　in　a　tangle　of　rope　and　bodies　over　the　impacted　ground；　shattered　forever。　Popolac　staggered　back　from　the　sight；　its　vast　legs　flattening　the　forest　that　bounded　the　stamping…ground；　its　arms　flailing　the　air。　But　it　kept　its　balance；　even　as　a　mon　insanity；　woken　by　the　horror　at　its　feet；　surged　through　its　sinews　and　curdled　its　brain。　The　order　went　out：　the　body　thrashed　and　twisted　and　turned　from　the　grisly　carpet　of　Podujevo；　and　fled　into　the　hills。
　　As　it　headed　into　oblivion；　its　towering　form　passed　between　the　car　and　the　sun；　throwing　its　cold　shadow　over　the　bloody　road。　Mick　saw　nothing　through　his　tears；　and　Judd；　his　eyes　narrowed　against　the　sight　he　feared　seeing　around　the　next　bend；　only　dimly　registered　that　something　had　blotted　the　light　for　a　minute。　A　cloud；　perhaps。　A　flock　of　birds。
　　Had　he　looked　up　at　that　moment；　just　stolen　a　glance　out　towards　the　north…east；　he　would　have　seen　Popolac's　head；　the　vast；　swarming　head　of　a　maddened　city；　disappearing　below　his　line　of　vision；　as　it　marched　into　the　hills。　He　would　have　known　that　this　territory　was　beyond　his　prehension；　and　that　there　was　no　healing　to　be　done　in　this　corner　of　Hell。　But　he　didn't　see　the　city；　and　he　and　Mick's　last　turning…point　had　passed。　From　now　on；　like　Popolac　and　its　dead　twin；　they　were　lost　to　sanity；　and　to　all　hope　of　life。
　　
　　They　rounded　the　bend；　and　the　ruins　of　Podujevo　came　into　sight。
　　Their　domesticated　imaginations　had　never　conceived　of　a　sight　so　unspeakably　brutal。
　　Perhaps　in　the　battlefields　of　Europe　as　many　corpses　had　been　heaped　together：　but　had　so　many　of　them　been　women　and　children；　locked　together　with　the　corpses　of　men？　There　had　been　piles　of　dead　as　high；　but　ever　so　many　so　recently　abundant　with　life？　There　had　been　cities　laid　waste　as　quickly；　but　ever　an　entire　city　lost　to　the　simple　dictate　of　gravity？
　　It　was　a　sight　beyond　sickness。　In　the　face　of　it　the　mind　slowed　to　a　snail's　pace；　the　forces　of　reason　picked　over　the　evidence　with　meticulous　hands；　searching　for　a　flaw　in　it；　a　place　where　it　could　say：　This　is　not　happening。　This　is　a　dream　of　death；　not　death　itself。
　　But　reason　could　find　no　weakness　in　the　wall。　This　was　true。　It　was　death　indeed。
　　Podujevo　had　fallen。
　　Thirty…eight　thousand；　seven　hundred　and　sixty…five　citizens　were　spread　on　the　ground；　or　rather　flung　in　ungainly；　seeping　piles。　Those　who　had　not　died　of　the　fall；　or　of　suffocation；　were　dying。　There　would　be　no　survivors　from　that　city　except　that　bundle　of　onlookers　that　had　traipsed　out　of　their　homes　to　watch　the　contest。　Those　few　Podujevians；　the　crippled；　the　sick；　the　ancient　few；　were　now　staring；　like　Mick　and　Judd；　at　the　carnage；　trying　not　to　believe。
　　Judd　was　first　out　of　the　car。　The　ground　beneath　his　suedes　was　sticky　with　coagulating　gore。　He　surveyed　the　carnage。　There　was　no　wreckage：　no　sign　of　a　plane　crash；　no　fire；　no　smell　of　fuel。　Just　tens　of　thousands　of　fresh　bodies；　all　either　naked　or　dressed　in　an　identical　grey　serge；　men；　women　and　children　alike。　Some　of　them；　he　could　see；　wore　leather　harnesses；　tightly　buckled　around　their　upper　chests；　and　snaking　out　from　these　contraptions　were　lengths　of　rope；　miles　and　miles　of　it。　The　closer　he　looked；　the　more　he　saw　of　the　extraordinary　system　of　knots　and　lashings　that　still　held　the　bodies　together。　For　some　reason　these　people　had　been　tied　together；　side　by　side。　Some　were　yoked　on　their　neighbours〃　shoulders；　straddling　them　like　boys　playing　at　horse　back　riding。　Others　were　locked　arm　in　arm；　knitted　together　with　threads　of　rope　in　a　wall　of　muscle　and　bone。　Yet　others　were　trussed　in　a　ball；　with　their　heads　tucked　between　their　knees。　All　were　in　some　way　connected　up　with　their　fellows；　tied　together　as　though　in　some　insane　collective　bondage　game。
　　Another　shot。
　　Mick　looked　up。
　　Across　the　field　a　solitary　man；　dressed　in　a　drab　overcoat；　was　walking　amongst　the　bodies　with　a　revolver；　dispatching　the　dying。　It　was　a　pitifully　inadequate　act　of　mercy；　but　he　went　on　nevertheless；　choosing　the　suffering　children　first。　Emptying　the　revolver；　filling　it　again；　emptying　it；　filling　it；　emptying　it…Mick　let　go。
　　He　yelled　at　the　top　of　his　voice　over　the　moans　of　the　injured。