sk.dreamcatcher-第82部分

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n　it　came　to　memory；　the　healthy　mind　was　able　to　access　them　pretty　much　at　will。　　　　
　　　　Need　something　to　move　them　with；　Jonesy　thought；　and　when　he　looked　around　he　was　not　exactly　amazed　to　see　a　bright　red　hand…dolly。　This　was　a　magic　place；　a　make…it…up…as…you…go…along　place；　and　the　most　marvelous　thing　about　it；　Jonesy　supposed；　was　that　everybody　had　one。
　　　　Moving　quickly；　he　stacked　some　of　the　boxes　marked　DUDDITS　on　the　dolly　and　ran　them　into　the　Tracker　Brothers　office　at　a　trot。　He　dumped　them　by　tipping　the　dolly　forward；　spilling　them　across　the　floor。　Untidy；　but　he　could　worry　about　the　Good　Housekeeping　Seal　of　Approval　later。　　　　
　　　　He　ran　back　out；　feeling　for　Mr　Gray；　but　Mr　Gray　was　still　with　the　truck…driver　。　。　。　Janas；　his　name　was。　There　was　the　cloud；　but　the　cloud　didn't　sense　him。　It　was　as　dumb　as　。　。　。　well；　as　dumb　as　fungus。
　　　　Jonesy　got　the　rest　of　the　DUDDITS　boxes；　and　saw　that　the　next　stack　had　also　acquired　scribbled　grease…pencil　labels。　These　latter　said　DERRY；　and　there　were　too　many　to　take。　The　question　was　whether　or　not　he　needed　to　take　any　of　them。
　　　　He　pondered　this　as　he　pushed　the　second　load　of　memory…boxes　into　the　office。　Of　course　the　Derry　boxes　would　be　stacked　near　the　Duddits　boxes；　memory　was　both　the　act　and　the　art　of　association。　The　question　remained　whether　or　not　his　Derry　memories　mattered。　How　was　he　supposed　to　know　that　when　he　didn't　know　what　Mr　Gray　wanted？
　　　　But　he　did　know。
　　　　Mr　Gray　wanna　go　south。
　　　　Derry　was　south。
　　　　Jonesy　sprinted　back　into　the　memory　storehouse；　pushing　the　dolly　ahead　of　him。　He'd　take　as　many　of　the　boxes　marked　DERRY　as　he　could；　and　hope　they　were　the　right　ones。　He　would　also　hope　that　he　sensed　Mr　Gray's　return　in　time。　Because　if　he　was　caught　out　here；　he　would　be　swatted　like　a　fly。


4

Janas　watched；　horrified；　as　his　left　hand　reached　out　and　opened　the　driver's…side　door　of　his　truck；　letting　in　the　cold；　the　snow；　and　the　relentless　wind。　'Don't　hurt　me　anymore；　mister；　please　don't；　you　can　have　a　ride　if　you　want　a　ride；　just　don't　hurt　me　anymore；　my　head…'
　　　　Something　suddenly　rushed　through　Andy　Janas's　mind。　It　was　like　a　whirlwind　with　eyes。　He　felt　it　prying　into　his　current　orders；　his　expected　arrival　time　at　Blue　Base　。　。　。　and　what　he　knew　of　Derry；　which　was　nothing。　His　orders　had　taken　him　through　Bangor；　he'd　never　been　to　Derry　in　his　life。
　　　　He　felt　the　whirlwind　pull　back　and　had　one　moment　of　delirious　relief　…　I　don't　have　what　it　needs；　it's　going　to　let　me　go　…　and　then　understood　that　the　thing　in　his　mind　had　no　intention　of　letting　him　go。　It　needed　the　truck；　for　one　thing。　It　needed　to　shut　his　mouth；　for　another。
　　　　Janas　put　up　a　brief　but　bitterly　energetic　struggle。　It　was　this　unexpected　resistance　that　allowed　Jonesy　time　to　remove　at　least　one　stack　of　the　boxes　marked　DERRY。　Then　Mr　Gray　once　more　resumed　his　place　at　Janas's　motor　controls。
　　　　Janas　saw　his　hand　shoot　out　and　up　to　the　driver's…side　visor。　His　hand　gripped　the　ballpoint　pen　and　yanked　it　free；　snapping　the　rubber　band　which　held　it。　　　　
　　　　No！　Janas　shouted；　but　it　was　too　late。　He　caught　a　shiny　zipping　glitter　as　his　hand；　which　was　gripping　the　ballpoint　like　a　dagger；　plunged　the　pen　into　his　staring　eye。　There　was　a　popping　sound　and　he　jittered　back　and　forth　behind　the　wheel　like　a　badly　managed　puppet；　his　fist　digging　the　pen　in　deeper　and　deeper；　up　to　the　halfway　mark；　then　to　the　three…quarter　mark；　his　split　eyeball　now　running　down　the　side　of　his　face　like　a　freakish　tear。　The　tip　struck　something　that　felt　like　thin　gristle；　bound　up　for　a　moment；　then　passed　through　into　the　meat　of　his　brain。
　　　　You　bastard；　he　thought；　what　are　you；　you　bas…
　　　　There　was　a　final　brilliant　flash　of　light　inside　his　head　and　then　everything　went　dark。　Janas　slumped　forward　over　the　wheel。　The　pickup's　horn　began　to　blow。


5
　　　　
Mr　Gray　hadn't　gotten　much　from　Janas　…　mostly　that　unexpected　struggle　for　control　at　the　end　…　but　one　thing　which　came　through　clearly　was　that　Janas　wasn't　on　his　own。　The　transport　column　of　which　he　had　been　a　part　had　strung　out　because　of　the　storm；　but　they　were　all　headed　to　the　same　place；　which　Janas　had　identified　in　his　mind　as　both　Blue　Base　and　Gosselin's。　There　was　a　man　there　that　Janas　had　been　afraid　of；　the　man　in　charge；　but　Mr　Gray　could　not　have　cared　less　about　Creepy　Kurtz/the　boss/Crazy　Abe。　Nor　did　he　have　to　care；　since　he　had　no　intention　of　going　anywhere　near　Gosselin's　store。　This　place　was　different　and　this　species；　although　only　semi…sentient；　posed　mostly　of　emotions；　was　different；　too。　They　fought。　Mr　Gray　had　no　idea　why；　but　they　did。
　　　　Best　to　finish　it　quickly。　And　to　that　end；　he　had　discovered　an　excellent　delivery　system。
　　　　Using　Jonesy's　hands；　Mr　Gray　pulled　Janas　from　behind　the　wheel　and　carried　him　to　the　guardrails。　He　threw　the　body　over　the　side；　not　bothering　to　watch　as　it　tumbled　down　the　slope　to　the　frozen　streambed。　He　went　back　to　the　truck；　looked　fixedly　at　the　two　plastic…wrapped　bundles　in　the　back；　and　nodded。　The　animal　corpses　were　good　for　nothing。　The　other；　though　。　。　。　that　would　be　useful。　It　was　rich　with　what　he　needed。
　　　　He　looked　up　suddenly；　Jonesy's　eyes　widening　in　the　blowing　snow。　The　owner　of　this　body　was　out　of　its　hiding　place。　Vulnerable。　Good；　because　that　consciousness　was　starting　to　annoy　him；　a　constant　muttering　（sometimes　rising　to　a　panicky　squeal）　on　the　lower　level　of　his　thought…process。
　　　　Mr　Gray　paused　a　moment　longer；　trying　to　make　his　mind　blank；　not　wanting　Jonesy　to　have　the　slightest　warning　。　。　。　and　then　he　pounced。
　　　　He　didn't　know　what　he　had　expected；　but　not　this。　Not　this　dazzling　white　light。


6

Jonesy　was　nearly　caught　out。　Would　have　been　caught　out　if　not　for　the　fluorescents　with　which　he　had　lit　his　mental　storeroom。　This　place　might　not　actually　exist；　but　it　was　real　enough　to　him；　and　that　made　it　real　enough　to　Mr　Gray　when　Mr　Gray　arrived。
　　　　Jonesy；　who　was　pushing　the　dolly　filled　with　boxes　marked　DERRY；　saw　Mr　Gray　appear　like　magic　at　the　head　of　a　corridor　of　high…stacked　cartons。　It　was　the　rudimentary　humanoid　that　had　been　standing　behind　him　at　Hole　in　the　Wall；　the　thing　he　had　visited　in　the　hospital。　The　dull　black　eyes　were　finally　alive；　hungry。　It　had　crept　up；　caught　him　outside　his　office　refuge；　and　it　meant　to　have　him。
　　　　But　then　its　bulge　of　a　head　recoiled；　and　before　its　three…fingered　hand　shielded　its　eyes　（it　had　no　lids；　not　even　any　lashes）；　Jonesy　saw　an　expression　on　its　gray　sketch　of　a　face　that　had　to　be　bewilderment。　Maybe　even　pain。　It　had　been　out　there；　in　the　snowy　dark；　disposing　of　the　driver's　body。　It　had　e　in　here　unprepared　for　the　discount…mart　glare。　He　saw　something　else；　too：　The　invader　had　borrowed　its　expression　of　surprise　from　the　host。　For　a　moment；　Mr　Gray　was　a　horrible　caricature　of　Jonesy　himself。
　　　　Its　surprise　gave　Jonesy　just　enough　time。　Pushing　the　dolly　ahead　of　him　almost　without　realizing　it　and　feeling　like　the　imprisoned　princess　in　some　fucked…up　fairy…tale；　he　ran　into　the　office。　He　sensed　rather　than　saw　Mr　Gray　reaching　out　for　him　with　his　three…fingered　hands　（the　gray　skin　was　raw…looking；　like　very　old　uncooked　meat）；　and　slammed　the　office　door　just　ahead　of　their　clutch。　He　bumped　the　dolly　with　his　bad　hip　as　he　spun　around　…　he　accepted　that　he　was　inside　his　own　head；　but　all　of　this　was　nevertheless　pletely　real　…　and　just　managed　to　run　the　bolt　before　Mr　Gray　could　turn　the　knob　and　force　his　way　in。　Jonesy　engaged　the　thumb…lock　in　the　center　of　the　doorknob　for　good　measure。　Had　the　thumb…lock　been　there　before；　or　had　he　added　it？　He　couldn't　remember。
　　　　Jonesy　stepped　back；　sweating；　and　this　time　ran　his　butt　into　the　handle　of　the　dolly。　In　front　of　him；　the　doorknob　turned　back　and　forth；　back　and　forth。　Mr　Gray　was　out　there；　in　charge　of　the　rest　of　his　mind　…　and　his　body；　as　well　…　but　he　couldn't　get　in　here。　Couldn't　force　the　door；　didn't　have　the　heft　to　break　it　down；　didn't　have　the　wit　to　pick　the　lock。
　　　　Why？　How　could　that　be？
　　　　'Duddits；'　he　whispered。　'No　bounce；　no　play。'