sk.dreamcatcher-第102部分

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pid　woolen　cap　but　skin；　after　all。　Udall　was　nominally　in　charge　of　this　little　group；　but　he　didn't　have　a　clue。　He　couldn't　see　the　pumping　fists；　couldn't　hear　the　strong　thought…voice　that　was　leading　the　chant。
　　　　Cambry　saw　alarm　on　Parsons's　face；　on　Everett's；　on　Coleman's。　They　were　seeing　it；　too。　Understanding　leaped　among　them　while　the　uninfected　ones　only　looked　puzzled。
　　　　'Fuckers're　gonna　break　out；'　Cambry　said。
　　　　'Don't　be　stupid；　Gene；'　George　Udall　said。　'They　don't　know　what's　ing　down。　Besides；　they're　civilians。　They're　just　letting　off　a　little　st…'
　　　　Cambry　lost　the　rest　as　a　single　word　…　NOW　…　ripped　through　his　brain　like　a　buzzsaw。　Ray　Parsons　and　Al　Coleman　winced。　Howie　Everett　cried　out　in　pain；　his　hands　going　to　his　temples；　his　knees　connecting　with　the　underside　of　the　table　and　sending　chips　and　cards　everywhere。　A　dollar　bin　landed　atop　the　hot　stove　and　began　to　bum。
　　　　'Aw；　fuck　a　duck；　look　what　you　d…'　Ted　began。
　　　　'They're　ing；'　Cambry　said。　'They're　ing　at　us。'
　　　　Parsons；　Everett；　and　Coleman　lunged　for　the　M…4　carbines　leaning　beside　Old　Man　Gosselin's　coatrack。　The　others　looked　at　them；　surprised；　still　three　steps　behind　。　。　。　and　then　there　was　a　vast　thud　as　sixty　or　more　of　the　internees　struck　the　barn　doors。　Those　doors　had　been　locked　from　the　outside　…　big　steel　locks；　Army　issue。　They　held；　but　the　old　wood　gave　with　a　splintering　crack。
　　　　The　prisoners　charged　through　the　gap；　yelling　'Now！　Now！'　into　the　snowy　mouth　of　the　wind　and　trampling　several　of　their　number　underfoot。
　　　　Cambry　also　lunged；　got　one　of　the　pact　assault　rifles；　then　had　it　snatched　out　of　his　hands。　'That's　mine；　muhfuh；'　Ted　Trezewski　snarled。
　　　　There　was　less　than　twenty　yards　between　the　shattered　barn　doors　and　the　back　of　the　store。　The　mob　swept　across　the　gap；　shouting　NOW！　NOW！　NOW！
　　　　The　poker…table　went　over　with　a　crash；　spilling　crap　everywhere。　The　perimeter　alarm　went　off　as　the　first　internees　struck　the　double…strung　fence　and　were　either　fried　or　hooked　like　fish　on　the　oversized　bundles　of　barbs。　Moments　later　the　alarm's　honking；　pulsing　bray　was　joined　by　a　whooping　siren；　the　General　Quarters　alert　which　was　sometimes　referred　to　as　Situation　Triple　Six；　the　end　of　the　world。　In　the　plastic　Porta…Potty　sentry　huts；　surprised　and　frightened　faces　peered　out　dazedly。
　　　　'The　barn！'　someone　shouted。　'Collapse　in　on　the　barn！　It's　an　escape！'
　　　　The　sentries　trotted　out　into　the　snow；　many　of　them　bootless；　moving　along　the　outside　of　the　fence；　unaware　that　it　had　been　shorted　out　by　the　weight　of　more　than　eighty　kamikaze　deerhunters；　all　screaming　NOW　at　the　top　of　their　lungs；　even　as　they　jittered　and　fried　and　died。
　　　　No　one　noticed　the　single　man　…　tall；　skinny；　wearing　a　pair　of　old…fashioned　horn…rim　specs　…　who　left　from　the　back　of　the　barn　and　set　out　diagonally　across　the　drifts　filling　the　paddock。　Although　Henry　could　neither　see　nor　sense　anyone　paying　attention　to　him；　he　began　to　run。　He　felt　horribly　exposed　under　the　brilliant　lights；　and　the　cacophony　of　the　siren　and　the　perimeter　alarm　made　him　feel　panicky　and　half…crazy　。　。　。　made　him　feel　the　way　Duddits's　crying　had；　that　day　behind　Tracker　Brothers。
　　　　He　hoped　to　God　Underhill　was　waiting　for　him。　He　couldn't　tell；　the　snow　was　too　thick　to　see　the　far　end　of　the　paddock；　but　he　would　be　there　soon　enough　and　then　he　would　know。


9

Kurtz　had　everything　on　but　one　boot　when　the　alarm　went　off　and　the　emergency　lights　went　on；　flooding　this　godforsaken　piece　of　ground　with　even　more　glare。　He　felt　no　surprise；　no　dismay；　only　a　mixture　of　relief　and　chagrin。　Relief　that　whatever　had　been　chewing　on　his　nerve…endings　was　now　out　in　the　open。　Chagrin　that　this　fucking　mess　hadn't　held　off　for　another　two　hours。　Another　two　hours　and　he　could　have　balanced　the　books　on　the　whole　deal。
　　　　He　jerked　open　the　door　of　the　Winnebago　with　his　right　hand；　still　holding　his　other　boot　in　his　left。　A　savage　roaring　came　from　the　barn；　the　sort　of　warrior's　cry　to　which　his　heart　responded　in　spite　of　everything。　The　gale…force　wind　thinned　it　a　little；　but　not　much；　they　were　all　in　it　together；　it　seemed。　From　somewhere　in　their　well…fed；　timorous；　it…can't…happen…here　ranks；　a　Spartacus　had　arisen　…　who　would　have　thunk　it？
　　　　It's　the　goddam　telepathy；　he　thought。　His　instincts；　always　superb；　told　him　this　was　serious　trouble；　that　he　was　watching　an　operation　go　tits…up　on　a　truly　grand　scale；　but　he　was　smiling　in　spite　of　that。　Got　to　be　the　goddam　telepathy。　They　smelled　out　what　was　ing　。　。　。　and　someone　decided　to　do　something　about　it。
　　　　As　he　watched；　a　motley　mob　of　men；　most　in　parkas　and　orange　hats；　came　moiling　through　the　sagging；　shattered　barn　doors。　One　fell　on　a　splintered　board　and　was　impaled　like　a　vampire。　Some　stumbled　in　the　snow　and　were　trampled　under。　AR　the　lights　were　on　now。　Kurtz　felt　like　a　man　with　a　ringside　seat　at　a　prizefight。　He　could　see　everything。
　　　　Wings　of　escapees；　fifty　or　sixty　in　each　plement；　peeled　off　as　neatly　as　squads　in　a　drill…team　and　charged　at　the　fence　on　either　side　of　the　ratty　little　store。　Either　they　didn't　know　there　was　a　lethal　dose　of　electricity　coursing　through　the　smoothwire　or　they　didn't　care。　The　rest　of　them；　the　main　body；　charged　directly　at　the　back　of　the　store。　That　was　the　weakest　point　in　the　perimeter；　but　it　didn't　matter。　Kurtz　thought　it　was　all　going　to　go。
　　　　Never　in　any　of　his　contingency　plans　had　he　so　much　as　considered　this　scenario：　two　or　three　hundred　overweight　November　warriors　mounting　a　no…guts…no…glory　banzai　charge。　He　had　never　expected　them　to　do　anything　but　stay　put；　clamoring　for　due　process　right　up　to　the　point　where　they　were　barbecued。
　　　　'Not　bad；　boys；'　Kurtz　said。　He　smelled　something　else　starting　to　burn　…　probably　his　goddam　career　…　but　the　end　had　been　ing　anyway；　and　he'd　picked　one　hell　of　an　operation　to　go　out　on；　hadn't　he？　As　far　as　Kurtz　was　concerned；　the　little　gray　men　from　space　were　strictly　secondary。　If　he　ran　the　news；　the　headline　above　the　fold　would　read：　SURPRISE！　NEW…AGE　AMERICANS　SHOW　SOME　BACKBONE！　Outstanding。　It　was　almost　a　shame　to　cut　them　down。
　　　　The　General　Quarters　siren　rose　and　fell　in　the　snowy　night。　The　first　wave　of　men　hit　the　back　of　the　store。　Kurtz　could　almost　see　the　whole　place　shudder。
　　　　'That　goddam　telepathy；'　Kurtz　said；　grinning。　He　could　see　his　guys　responding；　the　first　wave　from　the　sentry　huts；　more　ing　from　the　motor…pool；　the　missary；　and　the　semi　trailer…boxes　that　were　serving　as　makeshift　barracks。　Then　the　smile　on　Kurtz's　face　began　to　fade；　replaced　by　an　expression　of　puzzlement。　'Shoot　them；'　he　said。　'Why　don't　you　shoot　them？'
　　　　Some　were　firing；　but　not　enough　…　nowhere　near　enough。　Kurtz　thought　he　smelled　panic。　His　men　weren't　shooting　because　they　had　gone　chickenshit。　Or　because　they　knew　they　were　next。
　　　　'The　goddam　telepathy；'　he　said　again；　and　suddenly　automatic　rifle　fire　began　inside　the　store。　The　windows　of　the　office　where　he　and　Owen　Underhill　had　had　their　original　conference　lit　up　in　brilliant　stutterflashes　of　light。　Two　of　them　blew　out。　A　man　attempted　to　exit　the　second　of　these；　and　Kurtz　had　time　to　recognize　George　Udall　before　George　was　seized　by　the　legs　and　jerked　back　inside。
　　　　The　guys　in　the　office　were　fighting；　at　least；　but　of　course　they　would；　in　there　they　were　fighting　for　their　lives。　The　laddie…bucks　who　had　e　running　were；　for　the　most　part；　still　running。　Kurtz　thought　about　dropping　his　boot　and　grabbing　his　nine…millimeter。　Shooting　a　few　skedaddlers。　Bagging　his　limit；　in　fact。　It　was　falling　down　all　around　him；　why　not？
　　　　Underhill；　that　was　why　not。　Owen　Underhill　had　played　a　part　in　this　snafu。　Kurtz　knew　that　as　well　as　he　knew　his　own　name。　This　stank　of　line…crossing；　and　crossing　the　line　was　an　Owen　Underhill　specialty。
　　　　More　shooting　fi7om　Gosselin's　office　screams　of　pain　。　。　。　then　triumphant　howls。　The　puter…savvy；　Evian…drinking；　salad…eating　Goths　had　taken　their　objective。　Kurtz　slammed　the　Winnebago's　door　on　the　scene　and　hurried　back　to　the　bedroom　to　call　Freddy　Johnson。　He　was　still　carry