cb.booksofblood2-第22部分
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THE CAR COUGHED； and choked； and died。 Davidson was suddenly aware of the wind on the desert road； as it keened at the windows of his Mustang。 He tried to revive the engine； but it refused life。 Exasperated； Davidson let his sweating hands drop off the wheel and surveyed the territory。 In every direction； hot air； hot rock； hot sand。 This was Arizona。
He opened the door and stepped out on to the baking dust highway。 In front and behind it stretched unswervingly to the pale horizon。 If he narrowed his eyes he could just make out the mountains； but as soon as he attempted to fix his focus they were eaten up by the heat…haze。 Already the sun was corroding the top of his head； where his blond hair was thinning。 He threw up the hood of the car and peered hopelessly into the engine； regretting his lack of mechanical know…how。 Jesus； he thought； why don't they make the damn things foolproof？ Then he heard the music。
It was so far off it sounded like a whistling in his ears at first： but it became louder。
It was music； of a sort。
How did it sound？ Like the wind through telephone lines； a sourceless； rhythmless； heartless air…wave plucking at the hairs on the back of his neck and telling them to stand。 He tried to ignore it； but it wouldn't go away。
He looked up out of the shade of the bonnet to find the players； but the road was empty in both directions。 Only as he scanned the desert to the south…east did a line of tiny figures bee visible to him； walking； or skipping； or dancing at the furthest edge of his sight； liquid in the heat of the earth。 The procession； if that was its nature； was long； and making its way across the desert parallel to the highway。 Their paths would not cross。
Davidson glanced down once more into the cooling entrails of his vehicle and then up again at the distant line of dancers。
He needed help： no doubt of it。
He started off across the desert towards them。
Once off the highway the dust； not impacted by the passage of cars； was loose： it flung itself up at his face with every step。 Progress was slow： he broke into a trot：
but they were receding from him。 He began to run。
Over the thunder of his blood； he could hear the music more loudly now。 There was no melody apparent； but a constant rising and falling of many instruments； howls and hummings； whistlings； drummings and roarings。
The head of the procession had now disappeared； received into distance； but the celebrants （if that they were） still paraded past。 He changed direction a little； to head them off； glancing over his shoulder briefly to check his way back。 With a stomach…churning sense of loneliness he saw his vehicle； as small as a beetle on the road behind him； sitting weighed down by a boiling sky。
He ran on。 A quarter of an hour； perhaps； and he began to see the procession more clearly； though its leaders were well out of sight。 It was； he began to believe； a carnival of some sort； extraordinary as that seemed out here in the middle of God's nowhere。 The last dancers in the parade were definitely costumed； however。 They wore headdresses and masks that tottered well above human height … there was the flutter of brightly…coloured feathers； and streamers coiling in the air behind them。 Whatever the reason for the celebration they reeled like drunkards； loping one moment； leaping the next； squirming； some of them； on the ground； bellies to the hot sand。
Davidson's lungs were torn with exhaustion； and it was clear he was losing the pursuit。 Having gained on the procession； it was now moving off faster than he had strength or willpower to follow。
He stopped； bracing his arms on his knees to support his aching torso； and looked under his sweat…sodden brow at his disappearing salvation。 Then； summoning up all the energy he could muster； he yelled：
Stop！
At first there was no response。 Then； through the slits of his eyes； he thought he saw one or two of the revelers halt。 He straightened up。 Yes； one or two were looking at him。 He felt； rather than saw； their eyes upon him。
He began to walk towards them。
Some of the instruments had died away； as though word of his presence was spreading among them。 They'd definitely seen him； no doubt of that。
He walked on； faster now； and out of the haze； the details of the procession began to e clear。
His pace slowed a little。 His heart； already pounding with exertion； thudded in his chest。
… My Jesus； he said； and for the first time in his thirty…six godless years the words were a true prayer。
He stood off half a mile from them； but there was no mistaking what he saw。 His aching eyes knew papier…maché from flesh； illusion from misshapen reality。
The creatures at the end of the procession； the least of the least； the hangers…on； were monsters whose appearance beggared the nightmares of insanity。
One was perhaps eighteen or twenty feet tall。 Its skin； that hung in folds on its muscle； was a sheath of spikes； its head a cone of exposed teeth； set in scarlet gums。 Another was three…winged； its triple ended tail thrashing the dust with reptilian enthusiasm。 A third and fourth were married together in a union of monstrosities the result of which was more disgusting than the sum of its parts。 Through its length and breadth this symbiotic horror was locked in seeping marriage； its limbs thrust in and through wounds in its partner's flesh。 Though the tongues of its heads were wound together it managed a cacophonous howl。
Davidson took a step back； and glanced round at the car and the highway。 As he did so one of the things； black and red； began to scream like a whistle。 Even at a half mile's distance the noise cut into Davidson's head。 He looked back at the procession。
The whistling monster had left its place in the parade； and its clawed feet were pounding the desert as it began to race towards him。 Uncontrollable panic swept through Davidson； and he felt his trousers fill as his bowels failed him。
The thing was rushing towards him with the speed of a cheetah； growing with every second； so he could see more detail of its alien anatomy with every step。 The thumbless hands with their toothed palms； the head that bore only a tri…coloured eye； the sinew of its shoulder and chest； even its genitals； erect with anger； or （God help me） lust； two…pronged and beating against its abdomen。
Davidson shrieked a shriek that was almost the equal of the monster's noise； and fled back the way he had e。
The car was a mile； two miles away； and he knew it offered no protection were he to reach it before the monster overcame him。 In that moment he realized how close death was； how close it had always been； and he longed for a moment's prehension of this idiot honor。
It was already close behind him as his shit…slimed legs buckled； and he fell； and crawled； and dragged himself towards the car。 As he heard the thud of its feet at his back he instinctively huddled into a ball of whimpering flesh； and awaited the coup de grace。
He waited two heart…beats。
Three。 Four。 Still it didn't e。
The whistling voice had grown to an unbearable pitch； and was now fading a little。 The gnashing palms did not connect with his body。 Cautiously； expecting his head to be snapped from his neck at any moment； he peered through his fingers。
The creature had overtaken him。
Perhaps contemptuous of his frailty it had run on past him towards the highway。
Davidson smelt his excrement； and his fear。 He felt curiously ignored。 Behind him the parade had moved on。 Only one or two inquisitive monsters still looked over theft shoulders in his direction； as they receded into the dust。
The whistling now changed pitch。 Davidson cautiously raised his head from ground level。 The noise was all but outside his hearing…range； just a shrill whine at the back of his aching head。
He stood up。
The creature had leapt on to the top of his car。 Its head was thrown back in a kind of ecstasy； its erection plainer than ever； the eye in its huge head glinting。 With a final swoop to its voice； which took the whistle out of human hearing； it bent upon the car； smashing the windshield and curling its mouthed hands upon the roof。 It then proceeded to tear the steel back like so much paper； its body twitching with glee； its head jerking about。 Once the roof was torn up； it leapt on to the highway and threw the metal into the air。 It turned in the sky and smashed down on the desert floor。 Davidson briefly wondered what he could possibly put on the insurance form。 Now the creature was tearing the vehicle apart。 The doors were scattered。 The engine was ripped out。 The wheels slashed and wrenched off the axles。
To Davidson's nostrils there drifted the unmistakable stench of gasoline。 No sooner had he registered the smell than a shard of metal glanced against another and the creature and the car were sheathed in a billowing column of fire； blackening into smoke as it balled over the highway。
The thing did not call out： or if it did its agonies were beyond hearing。 It staggered out of the inferno with its flesh on fire； every inch of its body alight； its arms flailed wildly in a vain attempt to douse the fire； and it began to run off down the highway； fleeing from the source of its ago
