sk.cujo-第76部分

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nds　hurt　dreadfully。
'Vuh？'　she　croaked　in　a　whisper。　'Vuh　…Vuh　…　Vic？'
'Yes；　honey。　It's　me。　Where's　Tad？'
The　mirage　was　real。　It　was　really　him。　She　wanted　to　cry；　but　no　tears　came。　Her　eyes　only　moved　in　their　sockets　like　overheated　ball　bearings。
'Vic？　Vic？'
He　put　an　arm　around　her。　'Where's　Tad；　Donna？'
'Car。　Car。　Sick。　Hospital。'　She　could　now　barely　whisper；　and　even　that　was　failing　her。　Soon　she　would　be　able　to　do　no　more　than　mouth　words。　But　it　didn't　matter；　did　It？　Vic　was　here。　She　and　Tad　were　saved。
He　left　her　and　went　to　the　car。　She　stood　where　he　had　left　her；　looking　fixedly　down　at　the　dog's　battered　body。　At　the　end；　it　hadn't　been　so　bad；　had　it？　When　there　was　nothing　left　but　survival；　when　you　were　right　down　to　the　strings　and　nap　and　ticking　of　yourself；　you　survived　or　you　died　and　that　seemed　perfectly　all　right。　The　blood　didn't　seem　so　bad　now；　nor　the　brains　that　were　leaking　out　of　Cujo's　cloven　head。　Nothing　seemed　so　bad　now。　Vic　was　here　and　they　were　saved。
'Oh　my　God；'　Vic　said；　his　voice　rising　thinly　in　the　stillness。
She　looked　over　and　saw　him　taking　something　out　of　the　back　of　her　Pinto。　A　sack　of　something。　Potatoes？　Oranges？　What？　Had　she　been　shopping　before　all　this　happened？　Yes；　but　she　had　taken　the　groceries　into　the　house。　She　and　Tad　had　taken　them　in。　They　used　his　wagon。　So　what　
Tad！　she　tried　to　say；　and　ran　to　him。
Vic　carried　Tad　into　the　thin　shade　at　the　side　of　the　house　and　laid　him　down。　Tad's　face　was　very　white。　His　hair　lay　like　straw　on　his　fragile　skull。　His　hands　lay　on　the　grass；　seemingly　without　enough　weight　to　crush　the　stems　beneath　their　backs。
Vic　put　his　head　on　Tad's　chest。　He　looked　up　at　Donna。　His　face　was　white　but　calm　enough。
'How　long　has　he　been　dead；　Donna？'
Dead？　she　tried　to　scream　at　him。　Her　mouth　moved　like　the　mouth　of　a　figure　on　a　TV　set　the　volume　control　of　which　has　been　turned　all　the　way　down。　He's　not　dead；　he　wasn't　dead　when　I　put　him　in　the　hatchback；　what　are　you　telling　me；　he's　dead？　What　are　you　telling　me；　you　bastard/
She　tried　to　say　those　things　in　her　voiceless　voice。　Had　Tad's　life　slid　away　at　the　same　time　the　dog's　fife　had　slid　away？　It　was　impossible。　No　God；　no　fate；　could　be　so　monstrously　cruel。
She　ran　at　her　husband　and　shoved　him。　Vic；　expecting　anything　but　that；　fell　over　on　his　butt。　She　crouched　over　Tad。　She　put　his　hands　above　his　head。　She　opened　his　mouth；　pinched　his　nostrils　shut；　and　breathed　her　voiceless　breath　into　her　son's　lungs。
In　the　driveway；　the　somnolent　summer　flies　had　found　the　corpse　of　Cujo　and　that　of　Sheriff　Bannerman；　husband　to　Victoria；　father　to　Katrina。　They　had　no　preference　between　the　dog　and　the　man。　They　were　democratic　flies。　The　sun　blared　triumphantly　down。　It　was　ten　minutes　of　one　now；　and　the　fields　shimmered　and　danced　with　silent　summer。　The　sky　was　faded　blue　denim。　Aunt　Evvie's　prediction　had　e　true。
She　breathed　for　her　son。　She　breathed。　She　breathed。　Her　son　was　not　dead；　she　had　not　gone　through　this　hell　for　her　son　to　be　dead；　and　it　simply　would　not　be。
It　would　not　be。
She　breathed。　She　breathed。　She　breathed　for　her　son。
She　was　still　doing　it　when　the　ambulance　pulled　into　the　driveway　twenty　minutes　later。　She　would　not　Iet　Vic　near　the　boy。　When　he　came　near；　she　bared　her　teeth　and　growled　soundlessly　at　him。
Stunned　with　grief　nearly　to　the　point　of　distraction；　deeply　sure　at　the　final　bedrock　level　of　his　consciousness　that　none　of　this　could　be　happening；　he　broke　into　Camber's　house　by　way　of　the　porch　door　at　which　Donna　had　stared　so　long　and　hard。　The　inner　door　beyond　it　had　not　been　locked。　He　used　the　telephone。
When　he　came　outside　again；　Donna　was　still　administering　mouth…to…mouth　resuscitation　to　their　dead　son。　He　started　toward　her　and　then　swerved　away。　He　went　to　the　Pinto　instead　and　opened　the　hatchback　again。　Heat　roared　out　at　him　like　an　invisible　Iion。　Had　they　existed　in　there　Monday　afternoon　and　all　day　Tuesday　and　until　noon　of　today？　It　was　impossible　to　believe　they　had。
Underneath　the　hatchback's　floor；　where　the　spare　tire　was；　he　found　an　old　blanket。　He　shook　it　out　and　put　it　over　Bannerman's　mutilated　body。　He　sat　down　on　the　grass　then；　and　stared　out　at　Town　Road　No。　3　and　the　dusty　pines　beyond。　His　mind　floated　serenely　away。
The　ambulance　driver　and　the　two　orderlies　loaded　Bannerman's　body　into　the　Castle　Rock　Rescue　Unit。　They　approached　Donna。　Donna　bared　her　teeth　at　them。　Her　parched　lips　formed　the　words　He's　alive！　Alive！　When　one　of　the　orderlies　tried　to　pull　her　gently　to　her　feet　and　lead　her　away；　she　bit　him。　Later　this　orderly　would　need　to　go　to　hospital　himself　for　anti…rabies　treatment。　The　other　orderly　came　to　help。　She　fought　them。
They　stood　away　warily。　Vic　still　sat　on　the　lawn；　his　chin　propped　in　his　hands；　looking　across　the　road。
The　Rescue　Unit　driver　brought　a　syringe。　There　was　a　struggle。　The　syringe　was　broken。　Tad　lay　on　the　grass；　still　dead。　His　patch　of　shade　was　a　little　bigger　now。
Two　more　police　cars　arrived。　Roscoe　Fisher　was　in　one　of　them。　When　the　ambulance　driver　told　him　that　George　Bannerman　was　dead；　Roscoe　began　to　cry。　Two　other　policemen　advanced　on　Donna。　There　was　another　struggle；　short　and　furious；　and　Donna　Trenton　was　finally　pulled　away　from　her　son　by　four　sweating；　straining　men。　She　nearly　broke　free　again　and　Roscoe　Fisher；　still　crying；　joined　them。　She　screamed　soundlessly；　whipping　her　head　from　side　to　side。　Another　syringe　was　produced；　and　she　was　injected　successfully　this　time。
A　stretcher　came　down　from　the　ambulance；　and　the　orderlies　wheeled　it　over　to　where　Tad　lay　on　the　grass。　Tad；　still　dead；　was　put　on　it。　A　sheet　was　pulled　up　over　his　head。　At　the　sight　of　this；　Donna　redoubled　her　struggles。　She　freed　one　hand　and　began　to　flail　about　wildly　with　it。　Then；　suddenly；　she　was　free。
'Donna；'　Vic　said。　He　got　to　his　feet。　'Honey；　it's　over。　Honey；　please。　Let　go；　let　go。'
She　did　not　go　for　the　stretcher　that　her　son　lay　on。　She　went　for　the　baseball　bat。　She　picked　it　up　and　began　to　bludgeon　the　dog　again。　The　flies　rose　in　a　shiny　green…black　cloud。　The　sound　of　the　ball　bat　making　contact　was　heavy　and　terrible；　a　butcher…shop　sound。　Cujo's　body　jumped　a　little　each　time　she　struck　it。
The　cops　began　to　move　forward。
'No；'　one　of　the　orderlies　said　quietly；　and　a　few　moments　later　Donna　simply　collapsed。　Brett　Camber's　bat　rolled　away　from　her　relaxing　hand。
The　ambulance　left　five　minutes　or　so　later；　siren　howling。　Vic　had　been　offered　a　shot　~'to　calm　your　nerves；　Mr。　Trenton'　…and　although　he　felt　utterly　tranquilized　already；　he　had　accepted　the　shot　to　be　polite。　He　picked　up　the　cellophane　the　orderly　had　stripped　from　the　syrette　and　examined　the　word　UPJOHN　printed　on　it　carefully。　'We　ran　an　advertising　campaign　for　these　guys　once；'　he　told　the　orderly。
'That　so？'　the　orderly　asked　cautiously。　He　was　a　fairly　young　man　and　he　felt　that　he　might　throw　up　sometime　soon。　He　had　never　seen　such　a　mess　in　his　life。
One　of　the　police　cars　was　standing　by　to　take　Vic　to　Northern　Cumberland　Hospital　in　Bridgton。
'Can　you　wait　a　minute？'　he　asked。
The　two　cops　nodded。　They　were　also　staring　at　Vic　Trenton　in　a　very　cautious　way；　as　if　whatever　he　had　might　be　catching。
He　opened　both　doors　of　the　Pinto。　He　had　to　tug　long　and　hard　at　Donna's；　the　dog　had　dented　it　in　a　way　he　wouldn't　have　believed。　Her　purse　was　in　there。　Her　shirt。　The　shirt　had　a　jagged　tear　in　it；　as　if　maybe　the　dog　had　taken　a　chomp　out　of　it。　There　was　some　empty　Slim　Jim　wrappers　on　the　dashboard　and　Tad's　Thermos　bottle；　smelling　of　sour　milk。　Tad's　Snoopy　lunchbox。　His　heart　gave　a　heavy；　horrid　wrench　at　the　sight　of　that；　and　he　wouldn't　allow　himself　to　think　of　what　that　meant　in　terms　of　the　future　…　if　there　was　any　future　after　this　terrible　hot　day。　He　found　one　of　Tad's　sneakers。
Tadder；　he　thought。　Oh　Tadder。
The　strength　went　out　of　his　legs　and　he　sat　down　heavily　on　the　passenger　scat；　looking　between　his　legs　at　the　strip　of　chrome　at　the　bottom　of　the　doorframe。　Why？　Why　had　something　like　this　been　allowed　to　happen？　How　could　so　many　events　have　conspired　together？
His　head　was　sudden