pdouglas.thecodex-第46部分
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ion to escape; especially with manacles。 It was a shame to lose the services of a soldier when he had so few petent ones; but when the time came Philip could be a useful bargaining chip。 One should never underestimate the value of a hostage。
He ordered his men into double…time。
It unfolded exactly as he suspected。 The Indians had heard them ing just in time and had melted into the forest…but not before Hauser had marked where they'd gone。 He was an expert jungle tracker; and he pursued them at full press; a blitzkreig strategy that never failed to terrify even the most prepared enemy…let alone a group of unsuspecting hunters。 His men split; and Hauser took himself and two others on a roundabout route; cutting off the Indians。
It was fast; furious; and earsplitting。 The jungle shook。 It brought back with such vividness his many firefights in Vietnam。 In less than a minute it was over; trees were shattered and stripped; bushes smoking; the ground pulverized; an acrid haze drifting upward。 One small tree had its branches hung with orchids and entrails。
It was amazing; really; what a couple of simple grenade launchers could do。
Hauser added up the body parts and determined that four men had been killed。 Two others had escaped。 For once his soldiers had acted petently。 This is what they were good at: straight…ahead; unplicated killing。 He would have to remember that。
There wasn't much time。 He needed to reach the village shortly after the two survivors in order to strike at the moment of greatest confusion and terror; but before they could organize。
He turned and shouted to his men。 〃Arriba! Vamonos!〃
The men cheered; heartened by his enthusiasm; finally in their element。 〃To the village!〃
40
It rained for a week solid; without letup。 Every day they pushed forward; up and down canyons; along precarious cliffs; across roaring streams; all of it buried in the thickest jungle Tom thought possible。 If they made four miles it was a good day。 After seven days of this Tom awoke one morning to find the rain had finally ceased。 Don Alfonso was already up; tending a large fire。 His face was grave。 While they ate breakfast; he announced:
〃I had a dream last night。〃
The serious tone in his voice gave Tom pause。 〃What kind of dream?〃
〃I dreamed that I died。 My soul went up into the sky and began searching for St。 Peter。 I found him standing in front of the gates of heaven。 He hailed me as I came up。 'Don Alfonso; is that you; you old rascal?' he asked。 'That's right;' I said。 'It is I; Don Alfonso Boswas; who died in the jungle far from home at the age of one hundred and twenty…one; and I want to e inside and see my Rosita。' 'What were you doing way out there in the jungle; Don Alfonso?' he asked。 'I was with some crazy yanquis going to the Sierra Azul;' I said。 'And did you get there?' he asked。 'No;' I said。 'Well then; Don Alfonso; you scoundrel; you'll have to go back。' 〃
He stopped; then added; 〃And so I came back。〃
Tom wasn't sure how to react。 For a moment he thought the dream might be one of Don Alfonso's jokes; until he saw the serious look on the old man's face。 He exchanged a glance with Sally。
〃So what does this dream mean?〃 Sally asked。
Don Alfonso placed a piece of matta root inside his mouth and chewed thoughtfully; then leaned over to spit put the pulp。 〃It means I have only a few more days with you。〃
〃A few more days? Don't be ridiculous。〃
Don Alfonso finished his stew and rose; saying; 〃Let us talk no more about this and go to the Sierra Azul。〃
That day was worse than before; for when the rains ceased the insects appeared。 The travelers struggled up and down a succession of steep ridges on trails deep in muck; falling and sliding constantly; hounded by swarms。 Toward afternoon they descended into another ravine echoing with the sound of roaring water。 As they descended the roar became louder; and Tom realized a major river lay at the bottom。 As the foliage broke at the banks of the river; Don Alfonso; who was in front; halted and retreated in confusion; motioning them to stay back in the trees。
〃What's wrong?〃 Tom asked。
〃There is a dead man across the river; under a tree。〃
〃An Indian?〃
〃No; it is a person wearing North American clothing。〃
〃Could it be an ambush?〃
〃No; Tomás; if it was an ambush we would already be dead。〃
Tom followed Don Alfonso to the riverbank。 On the other side of the river; perhaps fifty yards up from the crossing point; there was a small natural clearing with a large tree in the middle。 Tom could just see a bit of color behind the tree。 He borrowed Vernon's binoculars to examine it more closely。 A bare foot; horribly swollen; was visible; with part of a ragged pantleg in view。 The rest of him was hidden behind the trunk。 As Tom looked he saw a bluish puff of smoke drift from behind the tree; then another。
〃Unless a dead man can smoke; that man's alive;〃 said Tom。
〃Mother of God; you are right。〃
They felled a tree across the river。 The sound of the axe echoed through the forest; but whoever was behind the tree did not move。
After the tree had e crashing down; forming a wobbly bridge; Don Alfonso stared suspiciously across the river。 〃It may be a demon。〃
They crossed on the rickety tree using the pole。 On the far side of the river they could no longer see the man。
〃We must go on and pretend we have not seen him;〃 whispered Don Alfonso。 〃I am sure now it is a demon。〃
〃That's absurd;〃 said Tom。 〃I'm going to check it out。〃
〃Please do not go; Tomás。 He will steal your soul and take it to the bottom of the river。〃
〃I'll e with you;〃 said Vernon。
〃Curandera; you stay here。 I do not want the demon to take all of you。〃
Tom and Vernon picked their way along the polished boulders on the riverbank; leaving Don Alfonso muttering unhappily to himself。 They soon arrived at the clearing and stepped around the tree。
There; they beheld a wreck of a human being。 He sat with his back against the tree; smoking a briar pipe; looking at them steadily。 He did not seem to be an Indian; although his skin was almost black。 His clothing was in tatters; and his face was scratched raw and bleeding from insect bites。 His bare feet were cut and swollen。 He was so thin; the bones of his body stuck out grotesquely; like a starving refugee's。 His hair was stringy; and he had a short beard full of sticks and leaves。
He made no reaction to their arrival。 He merely stared up at them out of hollow eyes。 He looked more dead than alive。 And then he gave a start; like a little shiver。 The pipe came out of his mouth; and he spoke; his voice little more than a harsh whisper。
〃How are you; brothers of mine?〃
41
Tom jumped; he was so startled by hearing his brother Philip's voice ing from this living cadaver。 He bent down to scrutinize the face; but he could find no point of resemblance。 He recoiled in horror: Maggots were squirming in a sore on the man's neck。
〃Philip?〃 Vernon whispered。
The voice croaked an affirmative。
〃What are you doing here?〃
〃Dying。〃 He spoke matter…of…factly。
Tom knelt and looked into his brother's face closer up。 He was still too horrified to speak or react。 He laid a hand on his brother's bony shoulder。 〃What happened?〃
The figure closed its eyes for a moment; then opened them。 〃Later。〃
〃Of course。 What am I thinking?〃 Tom turned to his brother。 〃Vernon; go get Don Alfonso and Sally。 Tell them we found Philip and that we're making camp here。〃
Tom continued looking at his brother; too shocked to speak。 Philip was so utterly calm 。。。 it was as if he had already resigned himself to death。 It was unnatural。 There was the serenity of apathy in his eyes。
Don Alfonso arrived and; relieved to find that the river demon had turned out to be a human being; began clearing an area to set up camp。
When Philip saw Sally he removed the pipe and blinked。
〃I'm Sally Colorado;〃 she said; taking his hand in hers。
Philip managed a nod。
〃We need to clean you up and doctor you。〃
〃Thank you。〃
They carried Philip down to the river; laid him on a bed of banana leaves; and stripped him。 Philip's body was covered with sores; many of which were infected and some of which