p&c.brimstone-第67部分

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e　into　view。　He　crested　the　rise　to　find　a　veritable　tent　city　spread　before　him；　the　smoke　from　dozens　of　fires　rising　into　the　autumn　air。　
　Harriman　paused；　surprise　changing　to　a　glow　of　satisfaction。He　had　done　this。　He　had　kept　the　story　alive；　identified　a　leader；　kept　the　people　ing。　And　nowthis　。　
　He　moved　into　the　outskirts　of　the　camp。　Some　people；　especially　the　numerous　high　school　and　college…aged　kids；　were　wrapped　only　in　newspapers；　others　had　sleeping　bags　of　various　makes　and　colors；　still　others　had　makeshift　tents　made　of　sheets　held　up　by　sticks。　A　few　had　fancy　tents　from　North　Face　and　Antarctica　Ltd。…trust　fund　brats　from　Scarsdale　and　Short　Hills；　probably。　
　Out　of　the　corner　of　his　eye；　he　saw　a　couple　of　cops　along　the　Fifth　Avenue　wall；　eyeing　the　situation。　And　to　his　left　were　more　cops；　just　standing　around；　keeping　a　low　profile。　No　wonder：　there　must　be　five　hundred　people　camped　in　here。　
　He　wandered　into　the　encampment　and　down　a　makeshift　alley　between　rows　of　tents。　It　was　almost　like　a　Depression…era　shantytown；　little　narrow　lanes　built　among　the　woodsy　hollows　and　exposed　rock　faces：　cooking　fires；　people　sitting　around　on　quilts　and　blankets　drinking　coffee。　Here　and　there　people　were　arriving　with　backpacks　and　setting　up　more　tents。　It　had　to　extend　at　least　to　70th　Street：　four　square　blocks　of　parkland。　It　was　incredible。　Had　anything　like　this　happened　in　New　York　before？　Quickly；　he　got　out　his　cell　phone　and　ordered　up　a　pool　photographer。　
　Harriman　then　stopped　to　ask　directions　and　within　minutes　had　located　Buck's　tent：　a　large　army…surplus　job　near　the　camp's　center。　Just　inside；　he　could　make　out　Buck　himself；　seated　at　a　card　table　and　writing。　He　was　a　curiously　dignified　figure；　and　Harriman　was　reminded　of　old　pictures　he'd　seen　of　Civil　War　generals。　He　hoped　that　damn　photographer　would　hurry　up。　
　As　Harriman　approached　the　entrance　to　the　tent；　a　young　man　cut　him　off。　〃Can　I　help　you？〃　
　〃I'm　here　to　see　Mr。　Buck。〃　
　〃A　lot　of　people　are　here　to　see　the　reverend。　He's　busy；　can't　be　disturbed。〃　
　〃I'm　Harriman　from　thePost　。〃　
　〃And　I'm　Todd　from　Levittown。〃　The　aide…de…camp　stood　firm；　blocking　the　way；　a　kind　of　dreamy；　supercilious　smile　on　his　face。　
　No　asshole　like　a　born…again　asshole；　Harriman　thought。　He　glanced　beyond　the　self…appointed　guardian　to　Buck；　working　at　his　card　table；　ignoring　them。　What　was　that　he　saw；　taped　to　the　inside　wall　of　the　tent？　A　row　of　articles　clipped　from　thePost　。His　articles。　He　felt　emboldened。　
　〃The　reverend　will　want　to　seeme　。〃　He　pushed　past　the　fellow；　ducked　into　the　tent；　and　strode　over　to　Buck；　hand　extended。　〃Reverend　Buck？〃　
　The　man　rose。　〃And　you　are…？〃　
　〃Harriman　from　thePost　。〃　
　〃He　just　barged　in；　Reverend…；〃　the　aide…de…camp　began。　
　But　a　slow　smile　was　spreading　across　Buck's　face。　〃Harriman。　It's　all　right；　Todd；　I've　been　expecting　this　gentleman。〃　
　Deflated；　Todd　retreated　to　a　corner　of　the　tent；　while　Buck　shook　the　extended　hand。　Seen　up　close；　he　looked　shorter　than　he　did　while　preaching。　He　wore　a　simple　checked　short…sleeved　shirt　and　a　pair　of　chinos：　no　blow…dried　helmet　of　hair　or　polyester　suits　for　this　preacher。　His　forearms　were　meaty　and　one　sported　a　tattoo。　His　handshake　was　a　crusher。　Ex…prison；　guessed　Harriman。　
　〃You've　been　waiting　for　me？〃　he　asked。　
　Buck　nodded。　〃I　knew　you'd　e。〃　
　〃You　did？〃　
　〃It's　all　part　of　the　plan。　Won't　you　sit　down？〃　
　Harriman　took　a　plastic　seat　at　the　card　table　and　removed　his　microcassette　recorder。　〃May　I？〃　
　〃Be　my　guest。〃　
　Harriman　turned　it　on；　tested　it；　set　it　carefully　on　the　table。　〃Perhaps　we　should　begin　with　this　plan　of　yours。　Tell　me　about　it。〃　
　Buck　smiled　indulgently。　〃I　was　referring　to　God's　plan。〃　
　〃Right。　Okay。　Which　is？〃　
　Buck　spread　his　hands。　〃What　you　see　all　around　you。　I　am　nothing；　just　one　flawed　human　trying　my　best　to　fulfill　God's　plan。　You；　Mr。　Harriman；　whether　you　know　it　or　not；　are　a　part　of　that　plan；　too。　An　important　part；　as　it　turns　out。　Your　articles　have　swelled　this　crowd；　brought　people　together…those　with　ears　to　hear　and　eyes　to　witness。〃　
　〃Witness　what？〃　
　〃The　rapture。〃　
　〃Excuse　me？〃　
　〃God's　promise　to　his　followers　in　the　End　Days。　When　the　faithful　will　be　lifted　into　heaven　while　the　wicked　sink　into　filth　and　fire。〃　Buck　hesitated　briefly。　And　in　that　hesitation；　Harriman　detected　a　flash…just　a　flash…of　nervousness。　Perhaps　the　man　was　a　little　scared　at　what　he'd　unleashed。　
　〃What　makes　you　think　the　End　Days　are　here？〃　
　〃God　sent　me　a　sign。　It　was　your　article　in　the　newspaper；　the　article　on　the　deaths　of　Grove　and　Cutforth；　that　first　brought　me　here　all　the　way　from　Yuma；　Arizona。〃　
　〃And　just　who　are　all　these　people　camped　around　you？〃　
　〃The　saved；　Mr。　Harriman。　Out　there　are　the　damned。　Which　are　you？〃　
　Harriman　was　taken　aback　by　the　suddenness　of　the　question。　Buck　was　eyeing　him　with　an　almost　Rasputin…like　intensity。　
　〃Does　it　matter？〃　Harriman　laughed　weakly。　
　〃Does　it　matter　whether　you　spend　eternity　boiling　in　a　lake　of　fire　or　lying　sweetly　in　the　lap　of　Jesus？　Because　the　time　has　e　to　make　a　choice。　These　awful　deaths　have　made　that　clear。　No　more　sitting　on　the　fence；　wondering　where　the　truth　is。　This　question　enters　everyone's　life　at　some　point；　and　now　that　life…changing　decision　has　suddenly；　without　warning；e　to　you　。　Remember　Paul's　Epistle　to　the　Romans：There　is　none　righteous；　no；　not　one　。　。　。　For　all　have　sinned；　and　e　short　of　the　glory　of　God。　You　must　repent　and　be　born　again　in　the　love　of　Jesus。　You　can　wait　no　longer。　So；　Mr。　Harriman：　are　you　saved；　or　are　you　damned？〃　
　Buck　waited　for　a　reply。　
　Harriman　felt　a　cold　sweat　break　out　on　the　back　of　his　neck。　The　guy　was　really　waiting　for　an　answer；　and　it　was　clear　he　wouldn't　go　on　until　he　got　one。　What　was　he　going　to　reply？　Sure；　he'd　always　considered　himself　a　Christian；　sort　of…but　not　a　Bible…thumping；　proselytizing　Christian。　
　〃I'm　still　working　it　out；〃　he　finally　said。　How　had　he　allowed　Buck　to　set　the　agenda　like　this？　Who　was　in　charge　of　this　interview；　anyway？　
　〃What's　there　to　work　out？　The　decision　is　simple。　Remember　what　Jesus　said　to　the　wealthy　man　who　desired　eternal　life：Sell　all　that　thou　hast；　and　distribute　unto　the　poor　。　。　。　For　it　is　easier　for　a　camel　to　go　through　a　needle's　eye；　than　for　a　rich　man　to　enter　into　the　kingdom　of　God。　Are　you　ready　to　give　away　your　earthly　goods；　Mr。　Harriman；　and　join　me？　Or　will　you　walk　away；　like　that　rich　man　in　the　Gospel　of　Luke？〃　
　Harriman　thought　about　this。　Had　Jesus　really　said　that？　Something　must　have　been　lost　in　the　translation。　
　Maybe　another　tack　would　break　this　impasse。　〃So　when；　Reverend；　is　all　this　going　to　happen？〃　
　〃If　everybody　knew　when　the　Day　of　Judgment　would　dawn；　we'd　have　a　whole　lot　of　converts　the　night　before。　It　will　ewhen　the　world　least　expects　it　。〃　
　〃Butyou　expect　it。　And　very　soon。〃　
　〃Yes。　Because　God　has　sent　his　faithful　a　sign；　and　that　sign　was　the　death　that　took　place　right　across　the　street。〃　
　Harriman　noted　that　the　group　of　policemen　in　the　distance　had　grown　a　little　bigger。　They　were　talking　and　taking　notes。　He　realized　abruptly　this　little　Shangri…La　wasn't　going　to　last。　If　Christ　didn't　e　soon；　the　police　would。　You　couldn't　have　hundreds　of　people　shitting　in　the　bushes　of　Central　Park　forever。　And　e　to　think　of　it；　therewas　an　odd　smell　wafting　on　the　air　。　。　。　
　〃What　will　you　do　if　the　police　move　in　to　evict　you？〃　he　asked。　
　Buck　paused；　his　face　betraying　another　fleeting　glimpse　of　uncertainty；　but　it　was　gone　as　quickly　as　it　had　appeared。　The　serene　expression　returned。　
　〃God　will　be　my　guide；　Mr。　Harriman。　God　will　be　my　guide。〃　
　　　
　59　
　
　D'Agosta　heard　the　sirens　first；　shattering　the　peace　of　the　Tuscan　countryside　with　their　dissonant　two…note　ditty。　Next　came　the　headlights　of　two　vehicles　speeding　around　a　nearby　hill　and　sweeping　up　the　drive。　They　ground　to　a　halt　before　the　villa　with　an　audible　spray　of　gravel。　Police　lights　cartwheeled　across　the　ceiling　of　the　salone　。　
　Pendergast　rose　from　his　crouch。　The　tweezers　that　had　magically　appeared　from　his　clothing　just　as　magically　disappeared。　
　He　glanced　at　D'Agosta。　〃Shall　we　retire　to　the　chapel？　We　wouldn't　want　these　good　gentlemen　to　think　we've　been　tampering　with　their　crime　site。〃　
　D'Agosta；　still　gripped　with　fear　and　dread；　nodded　dumbly。　The　chapel。　That　seemed　like　a　good　idea。　A　really　good　idea。　
　The　chapel　was　in　the　traditional　location　at　the　far　end　of　thesalone　；　a　tiny　but　exquisite　Baroque　room　which　could　fit　little　more　than　a　priest　and　half　a　dozen　family　members。　There　didn't　seem　to　be　any　electric　lights；　so　Pendergast　lit　a　votive　candle　in　a　red　glass　holder；　and　they　settled　on　the　hard　wooden　benches　to　wait。　
　Almost　immediately　there　was　the　sound　of　a　door　booming　open；　boots　echoing　in　the　downstairs　hall；　police　radios　blaring。　D'Agosta　was　still　holding　his　cross；　his　eyes　on　the　small　marble　altar。　The　candle　gave　out　a　flickering　reddish　glow；　and　the　air　was　redolent　with　frankincense　and　myrrh。　He　resisted　the　impulse　to　go　down　on　hi