mreilly.icestation-第46部分

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　〃Oh；　God　。。。；〃　she　said；　her　voice　low。　〃Oh；　God。。。。〃　
　There　were　nine　of　them。　
　Bodies。　
　Human　bodies；　although　at　first　it　was　hard　to　tell。　
　They　were　laid　out　on　the　floor　on　the　far　side　of　the　pool…some　lay　flat　on　their　backs；　others　lay　draped　over　large　rocks　by　the　edge　of　the　pool。　Blood　was　everywhere。　Puddled　on　the　floor；　splashed　against　the　walls；　lathered　all　over　the　bodies　themselves。　
　It　was　carnage。　
　Limbs　had　been　torn　from　their　sockets。　Heads　had　been　wrenched　from　shoulders。　Circular　chunks　of　flesh　had　been　ripped　from　the　chests　of　some　of　the　bodies。　Exposed　bones　lay　all　over　the　floor；　some　of　them　splintered；　others　with　ragged　pieces　of　flesh　still　clinging　to　them。　
　Gant　swallowed　hard；　tried　desperately　to　keep　herself　from　throwing　up。　
　The　divers　from　the　station；　she　thought。　
　Santa　Cruz　stepped　up　alongside　her　and　stared　at　the　mutilated　bodies　on　the　far　side　of　the　pool。　
　〃What　the　hell　happened　down　here？〃　he　said。　
　
　
　
　Schofield　dreamed。　
　At　first　there　was　nothing。　Nothing　but　black。　It　was　like　floating　in　outer　space。　
　And　then　all　of　a　sudden…whack…a　glaring　white　light　shattered　Schofield's　very　existence；　jarred　him　like　an　electric　shock；　and　he　felt　searing　pain　like　he　had　never　felt　before。　
　And　then；　just　as　suddenly　as　it　had　e；　the　shock　vanished　and　Schofield　found　himself　lying　on　a　floor　somewhere…cold　and　alone；　asleep　but　awake。　
　It　was　dark。　There　were　no　walls。　
　He　felt　a　wetness　against　his　cheek。　
　It　was　a　dog。　A　large　dog。　Schofield　couldn't　tell　what　type。　He　could　only　tell　that　it　was　big。　Very；　very　big。　
　The　dog　nuzzled　against　his　cheek；　sniffed　inquisitively。　Its　cold　wet　nose　brushed　against　the　side　of　his　face。　Its　whiskers　tickled　his　nose。　
　It　seemed　curious；　not　at　all　threatening…　
　And　then　suddenly　the　dog　barked。　Loud　as　hell。　
　Schofield　jumped。　The　dog　was　barking　madly　now　at　some　unseen　foe。　It　seemed　impossibly　angry…frenzied；　furious…baring　its　teeth　at　this　new　enemy。　
　Schofield　continued　to　lie　on　the　cold　floor　of　the　wall…less　room　unable…or　just　unwilling…to　move。　And　then；　gradually；　the　walls　around　him　began　to　take　shape；　and　soon　Schofield　realized　that　he　was　lying　on　the　metal　decking　of　E…deck。　
　The　big　dog　was　still　standing　over　him；　barking　ferociously；　snarling。　The　dog；　it　seemed；　was　defending　him。　
　But　from　what？　What　could　it　see　that　he　could　not？　
　And　then　suddenly　the　dog　turned　and　ran　away　and　Schofield　lay　alone　on　the　cold　steel　deck。　
　Asleep　but　awake；　unable　to　move；　Schofield　suddenly　felt　vulnerable。　Exposed。　
　Something　was　approaching　him。　
　It　came　from　the　direction　of　his　feet。　He　couldn't　see　it；　but　he　could　hear　its　footsteps　as　they　clanged…slowly；　one　after　the　other…on　the　cold　steel　deck。　
　And　then　suddenly　it　was　over　him　and　Schofield　saw　an　evil　smiling　face　appear　above　his　head。　
　It　was　Jacques　Latissier。　
　His　face　was　covered　in　blood；　contorted　in　an　obscene　sneer。　Ragged　pieces　of　flesh　hung　loosely　from　an　open　wound　in　his　forehead。　His　eyes　were　alive；　burning　with　hate。　The　French　mando　raised　his　glistening　knife　so　that　it　was　right　in　front　of　Schofield's　eyes。　
　And　then　he　brought　the　knife　down　in　a　violent　slashing…　
　〃Hey；〃　someone　said　gently。　
　Schofield's　eyes　darted　open　and　he　awoke　from　his　dream。　
　He　was　lying　on　his　back。　In　a　bed　of　some　sort。　In　a　room　with　dazzling　white　fluorescent　lights。　The　walls　were　white；　too；　made　of　ice。　
　A　man　stood　over　him。　
　He　was　a　small　man；　about　five…foot…three。　Schofield　had　never　seen　him　before。　
　The　man　was　short　and　wiry；　and　he　had　two　enormous　blue　eyes　that　seemed　way　too　big　for　his　small　head。　Large　black　bags　hung　beneath　both　of　his　eyes。　He　had　messy　brown　hair　that　looked　like　it　hadn't　been　brushed　in　months　and　two　huge　front　teeth　that　were　horribly　askew。　He　wore　a　Kmart　wash…and…wear　shirt　and　a　pair　of　blue　polyester　trousers；　in　fact；　he　looked　decidedly　underdressed　for　the　near…freezing　conditions　inside　Wilkes　Ice　Station。　
　And　he　was　holding　something。　
　A　long…bladed　scalpel。　
　Schofield　stared　at　it。　
　The　scalpel　had　blood　on　it。　
　The　man　spoke　in　a　flat　nasal　voice。　〃Hey。　You're　awake。〃　
　Schofield　squinted　in　the　light；　tried　to　lift　himself　up　off　the　bed。　He　couldn't　do　it。　Something　stopped　him。　He　saw　what　it　was。　
　Two　leather　straps　bound　his　arms　to　the　sides　of　the　bed。　Two　more　straps　bound　his　legs。　When　he　tried　to　raise　his　head　to　further　examine　his　situation；　he　found　that　he　couldn't　even　do　that。　It；　too；　was　strapped　tightly　down　against　the　bed。　
　Schofield's　blood　went　instantly　cold。　
　He　was　pletely　tied　down。　
　〃Just　hold　on　a　minute；〃　the　short　man　said　in　his　irritating　nasal　voice。　〃This　will　only　take　one　。。。　more　。。。　second。〃　
　He　raised　his　bloody　scalpel　and　ducked　out　of　Schofield's　field　of　vision。　
　〃Wait！〃　Schofield　said　quickly。　
　The　short　man　returned　instantly　to　Schofield's　view。　He　raised　his　eyebrows　questioningly。　〃Yes？〃　
　〃Where　。。。　where　am　I？〃　Schofield　said。　It　hurt　to　speak。　His　throat　was　parched；　dry。　
　The　man　smiled；　revealing　his　crooked　front　teeth。　〃It's　OK；　Lieutenant；〃　he　said。　〃You're　still　at　Wilkes　Ice　Station。〃　
　Schofield　swallowed。　〃Who　are　you？〃　
　〃Why；　Lieutenant　Schofield；〃　the　man　said；　〃I'm　James　Renshaw。〃　
　
　
　
　〃Wele　back　from　the　grave；　Lieutenant；〃　Renshaw　said　as　he　unbound　the　leather　strap　around　Schofield's　head。　He　had　just　finished　removing　the　last　three　bullet　fragments　from　Schofield's　neck　with　his　scalpel。　
　Renshaw　said；　〃You　know；　you　were　very　lucky　you　were　wearing　this　Kevlar　plate　inside　your　collar。　It　didn't　stop　the　bullet　entirely；　but　it　took　most　of　the　speed　off　it。〃　
　Renshaw　held　up　the　circular　Kevlar　insert　that　had　previously　been　fitted　inside　Schofield's　gray　turtleneck　collar。　Schofield　had　forgotten　all　about　his　neck　protector。　To　him；　it　was　just　another　part　of　his　uniform。　Kevlar　neck　protectors　were　issued　exclusively　to　Marine　officers；　as　an　extra　defense　against　snipers。　Enlisted　men　received　no　such　protection；　since　enemy　snipers　rarely　cared　for　corporals　and　sergeants。　
　With　the　leather　strap　around　his　forehead　now　removed；　Schofield　raised　his　head　and　looked　at　the　Kevlar　insert　that　Renshaw　held　in　his　hand。　
　It　looked　like　a　priest's　white　collar…curved　and　flat；　designed　to　encircle　its　wearer's　neck　while　remaining　hidden　inside　his　turtleneck　collar。　On　one　side　of　the　circular　Kevlar　insert；　Schofield　could　see　a　jagged；　gaping　hole。　
　The　bullet　hole。　
　〃That　bullet　would　have　killed　you　for　sure　if　it　weren't　for　your　insert；〃　Renshaw　said。　〃Would've　cut　right　through　your　carotid。　After　that　there　would　have　been　nothing　anyone　could　have　done　for　you。　As　it　happened；　the　bullet　shattered　as　it　passed　through　your　Kevlar　insert；　so　only　a　few　small　fragments　of　it　lodged　in　your　neck。　Still；　that　would　have　been　enough　to　kill　you；　and　as　a　matter　of　fact；　I　actually　think　it　did；　at　least　for　a　short　time。〃　
　Schofield　had　stopped　listening。　He　was　taking　in　the　room　around　him。　It　looked　like　someone's　living　quarters。　He　saw　a　bed；　a　desk；　a　puter；　and；　strangely；　a　pair　of　black…and…white　TV　monitors　mounted　on　top　of　two　video　recorders。　
　He　turned　to　face　Renshaw。　〃Huh？〃　
　〃Several　fragments　of　the　bullet　lodged　in　your　neck；　Lieutenant。　I'm　pretty　sure…in　fact；　I'm　absolutely　certain…that　for　at　least　thirty　seconds；　you　lost　your　pulse。　You　were　clinically　dead。〃　
　〃What　do　you　mean？〃　Schofield　said。　He　instinctively　tried　to　raise　his　hand　to　feel　his　neck。　But　he　couldn't　move　his　arm。　His　arms　and　legs　were　still　firmly　tied　down　to　the　bed。　
　〃Oh；　don't　worry；　I　fixed　it　up；〃　Renshaw　said。　〃I　took　the　bullet　fragments　out　and　I　cleaned　the　wound。　You　actually　got　a　couple　of　Kevlar　fragments　in　there；　too；　but　they　weren't　a　problem。　In　fact；　I　was　just　trying　to　get　them　out　when　you　woke　up。〃　Renshaw　indicated　the　bloody　scalpel　on　a　silver　tray　next　to　Schofield's　bed。　Beside　the　scalpel　lay　seven　tiny　metal　fragments；　all　of　them　covered　in　blood。　
　〃Oh；　and　don't　worry　about　my　quali