pdouglas.thecodex-第70部分

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　〃When　we　get　out；　we'll　report　it　to　the　FBI；　Interpol…〃
　〃Hauser's　going　to　get　away　with　it；　Philip；　and　you　know　it。　Which　reminds　me。　There　was　something　odd　about　the　boxes　in　the　tomb；　something　that　I've　been　wondering　about。　As　much　as　I　hate　to　go　back　in　there；　there's　something　I've　got　to　check　out。〃
　〃I'll　help　you；〃　Philip　said；　springing　to　his　feet。
　〃No。　I　need　to　go　in　there　alone。　Borabay；　give　me　a　light。〃
　Borabay　lit　a　bundle　of　reeds　and　handed　it　to　his　father。
　The　old　man　disappeared　through　the　doorway；　and　Tom　could　see　the　yellow　halo　moving　about　in　the　tomb　among　the　crates　and　boxes。　Maxwell　Broadbent's　voice　boomed　out。　〃God　knows　why　all　this　bloody　crap　was　so　important　to　me　once。〃
　The　light　moved　deeper　into　the　darkness　and　vanished。
　Philip　stood　up　and　walked　a　tight　circle；　stretching　his　legs。　He　lit　his　pipe。　〃I　hate　to　think　of　Hauser　getting　his　hands　on　the　Lippi。〃
　A　voice；　cool　and　amused；　came　floating　toward　them：
　〃I　say；　did　someone　mention　my　name？〃
　
　71
　
　Hauser　spoke　softly；　soothingly；　his　weapon　leveled　and　ready　to　go　at　the　slightest　movement。　The　three　brothers　and　the　Indian；　sitting　on　the　far　side　of　the　open　tomb　door；　turned　their　heads　toward　him；　blank　terror　in　their　eyes。
　〃Do　not　dismode　yourselves　by　rising。　Do　not　move　at　all；　except　to　blink　your　eyes。〃　He　paused。　〃Philip；　so　good　to　see　you　recovered。　You've　e　a　long　way　from　the　effete　little　snit　that　walked　into　my　office　two　months　ago；　with　that　ridiculous　briar　pipe。〃
　Hauser　took　a　light　step　forward；　braced；　ready　to　mow　them　down　at　the　slightest　movement。　〃How　kind　of　you　to　guide　me　to　the　tomb。　And　you've　even　opened　the　door　for　me！　Very　considerate。　Now　listen　carefully。　If　you　follow　my　directions　no　one　will　be　hurt。〃
　Hauser　paused　to　examine　the　four　faces　in　front　of　him。　No　one　was　panicking；　and　no　one　was　gearing　up　to　play　the　hero。　These　were　sensible　people。　He　said；　as　softly　and　pleasantly　as　possible；　〃Someone　tell　the　Indian　he　needs　to　put　his　bow　and　arrows　down。　Slowly　and　smoothly…no　sudden　movements；　please。〃
　Borabay　took　off　his　quiver　and　bow　and　let　them　fall　in　front　of　him。
　〃So　the　Indian　understands　English。　Good。　And　now　I　will　ask　each　of　you　fellows　to　unsheath　and　drop　your　machetes　one　at　a　time。　You　first；　Philip。　Remain　seated。〃
　Philip　unsheathed　his　knife　and　dropped　it。
　〃Vernon？〃
　Vernon　did　the　same　and　then　Tom。
　〃Now；　Philip；　I　want　you　to　go　over　to　where　you　have　piled　your　packs；　get　them；　and　bring　them　to　me。　Easy　does　it。〃　He　made　a　little　gesture　with　the　muzzle　of　his　gun。
　Philip　collected　the　packs　and　placed　them　at　Hauser's　feet。
　〃Excellent！　Now　let's　empty　our　pockets。　Turn　the　pockets　inside　out　and　leave　them　that　way。　Drop　everything　on　the　ground　in　front　of　you。〃
　They　plied。　Hauser　was　surprised　to　see　that　they　had　not；　as　he　supposed；　been　loading　up　on　treasure　from　the　tomb。
　〃And　now　you'll　stand　up。　All　at　once；　in　unison；　in　slow　motion。　Good！　Now；　just　moving　your　legs　from　the　knees　down；　taking　small　steps；　keeping　your　arms　very　still；　you　will　move　back。　Keep　in　a　group　there；　that's　right。　One　step　at　a　time。〃
　As　they　shuffled　back　in　this　ridiculous　fashion；　Hauser　stepped　forward。　They　had　bunched　up；　instinctively；　as　people　did　when　in　danger…especially　family　members　herded　under　gunpoint。　He　had　seen　it　before；　and　it　made　everything　so　much　easier。
　〃Everything's　just　fine；〃　he　said　softly。　〃I　don't　want　to　hurt　anybody…all　I　want　is　Max's　grave　goods。　I'm　a　professional；　and　like　most　professionals　I　dislike　killing。〃　Right。　His　finger　caressed　the　smooth　plastic　curve　of　the　trigger；　found　its　place；　began　to　tighten　it　back　to　full　auto　position。　They　were　in　place。　There　was　nothing　they　could　do　now。　They　were　as　good　as　dead。
　〃Nobody's　going　to　get　hurt。〃　And　then　he　couldn't　help　adding：　〃Nobody's　going　to　feel　a　thing。〃　He　squeezed　for　real　now；　felt　that　imperceptible　give　in　the　trigger　that　he　knew　so　well；　that　millisecond　release　after　the　feeling　of　resistance；　and　simultaneously　Hauser　saw　a　swift　movement　in　his　peripheral　field　of　vision；　and　there　was　an　explosion　of　sparks　and　flame　and　he　fell；　firing　wildly　as　he　went；　the　bullets　ricocheting　off　the　stone　walls；　and　he　had　a　terrifying　glimpse　of　what　had　struck　him　before　he　hit　the　stone　ground。
　The　thing　had　e　straight　out　of　the　tomb；　half　naked；　face　white　as　a　vampire；　sunken…eyed；　stinking　of　deposition；　its　bony　limbs　as　gray　and　hollow　as　death；　holding　aloft　a　burning　brand　that　it　had　just　struck　him　with；　and　it　was　still　ing　at　him　with　a　shrieking　mouth　full　of　brown　teeth。
　Damned　if　it　wasn't　the　ghost　of　Maxwell　Broadbent　himself！
　
　72
　
　Hauser　rolled　when　he　hit　the　ground；　still　clutching　his　weapon。　He　twisted；　trying　to　get　back　into　firing　position；　but　it　was　too　late　and　the　ragged　specter　of　Maxwell　Broadbent　had　fallen　on　top　of　him；　roaring　and　stabbing　and　slashing　him　across　the　face　with　the　burning　brand；　there　were　showers　of　sparks；　and　he　smelled　burning　hair　as　he　tried　to　ward　off　the　blows　with　one　hand；　clutching　his　gun　with　the　other。　It　was　impossible　to　get　off　a　shot　while　the　attacker　was　trying　to　gouge　out　his　eyes　with　the　burning　brand。　He　managed　to　wrench　free；　and　then　fired　blindly；　from　on　his　back；　wildly　sweeping　the　muzzle　back　and　forth；　hoping　to　hit　something；　anything。　But　the　specter　seemed　to　have　vanished。
　He　stopped　firing　and　gingerly　sat　up。　His　face　and　right　eye　felt　like　they　were　on　fire。　He　yanked　the　canteen　out　of　his　pack　and　doused　his　face。
　Christ；　how　it　hurt！
　He　dabbed　the　water　off　his　face。　Hot　coals　and　sparks　from　the　brand　had　lodged　inside　his　nose；　under　one　eyelid；　in　his　hair　and　his　cheek。　The　monstrous　thing　that　had　e　out　of　the　tomb…could　it　really　have　been　a　ghost？　He　opened；　painfully；　his　right　eye。　As　he　gently　probed　around　it　with　his　fingertip；　he　realized　the　damage　was　all　to　the　eyebrow　and　lid。　The　cornea　was　intact；　and　he　hadn't　lost　his　vision。　He　poured　some　water　into　his　handkerchief；　wrung　it　out；　and　blotted　his　face。
　What　the　hell　happened？　Hauser；　who　always　expected　the　unexpected；　had　never　been　more　shocked　in　his　life。　He　knew　that　face；　even　after　forty　years；　he　knew　every　detail　of　it；　every　expression；　every　tic。　There　was　no　doubt：　It　was　Broadbent　himself　who　had　e　shrieking　out　of　that　tomb　like　a　banshee…Broadbent；　who　was　supposed　to　be　dead　and　buried。　White　as　a　sheet；　ragged　hair　and　beard；　hollow；　skeletal；　wild。
　Hauser　swore。　What　had　he　been　thinking？　Broadbent　was　alive　and　at　this　very　moment　escaping。　Hauser　shook　his　head　in　a　sudden　fury；　trying　to　clear　it。　What　the　hell　was　wrong　with　him？　He　had　allowed　himself　to　be　blindsided　and　now；　sitting　here；　he'd　given　them　at　least　a　three…minute　head　start。
　He　quickly　reshouldered　his　Steyr　AUG；　took　a　step　forward；　and　stopped。
　There　was　blood　on　the　ground…an　attractive；　half…dollar…sized　splotch。　And　farther　along　another　generous　splash。　Hauser　felt　the　semblance　of　calm　return。　As　if　he　needed　further　confirmation；　the　so…called　ghost　of　Broadbent　was　bleeding　real　blood。　He　had　managed　to　hit　him　and　perhaps　some　of　the　others　after　all；　and　even　a　grazing　shot　from　the　Steyr　AUG　was　no　joke。　He　took　a　moment　to　analyze　the　spray　pattern；　the　amount；　the　trajectory。
　The　wound　was　not　trivial。　All　in　all；　the　advantage　was　still　very　much　his。
　He　looked　up　the　stone　staircase　and　began　running；　taking　it　two　steps　at　a　time。　He　would　get　on　their　trail；　he　would　track　them　down；　and　he　would　kill　them。
　
　73
　
　They　ran　up　the　carved　staircase；　the　sound　of　the　shots　still　echoing　from　the　distant　mountains。　They　reached　the　trail　at　the　top　of　the　cliffs　and　sprinted　for　the　green　walls　of　lianas　and　creepers　that　covered　the　ruined　ramparts　of　the　White　City。　As　they　reached　the　covering　shade；　Tom　saw　his　father　stumble。　Streaks　of　blood　were　running　down　one　of　his　legs。
　〃Wait！　Father's　hit！〃
　〃It's　nothing。〃　The　old　man　stumbled　again　and　grunted。
　They　stopped　briefly　at　the　base　of　the　wall。
　〃Leave　me　alone！〃　the　old　man　roared。