cw.blackalibi-第17部分

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r　of　their　lanterns　down　there　at　the　end　of　this　interminable　perspective。
　　There　was　something　wrong。　The　distance　to　the　gate　seemed　greater　than　she　remembered　it。　It　was　greater；　there　was　no　mistaking　it。　This　wasn't　a　distortion　of　panic；　of　darkness；　it　was　a　question　of　the　length　of　time　she　had　been　running；　and　the　distance　she　had　covered。　She　should　have　reached　that　gate　already　two　or　three　times　over　by　now。　Even　at　a　walk　it　had　never　seemed　this　far；　never　been　this　far；　before。
　　The　thought　of　what　it　was；　of　what　had　happened；　was　like　ice　creeping　through　her　veins；　numbing　as　it　wound　its　way。　And　then　behind　it　was　heat　again；　ready　to　claim　her　in　turn；　but　not　the　warmth　of　sanity；　of　normalcy；　any　more。　The　fever　heat　of　burning　madness；　the　temperature　of　nightmare。
　　She　was　scarcely　moving　forward　now。　She　couldn't　any　more。　She　was　swaying　there；　her　limbs　still　trying　to　carry　her　forward；　only　succeeding　in　making　little　rotary　motions　on　the　ground。　And　still　it　stretched　endlessly　before　her；　to　that　immutable　vanishing　point　it　had　had　all　along；　ever　since　back　there　at　the　urn。
　　She　tried　to　think。　Left。　Yes；　left。　Izquierda。　That　was　the　word；　that　was　the　direction。　But　left　when？　On　ing　in；　when　you　wanted　to　go　toward　your　family's　plot？　Or　on　going　out；　when　you　wanted　to　go　toward　the　gate？　Left　was　the　word。　Rosita　had　said　it　that　other　time；　when　they　had　stopped　uncertainly　for　a　moment　there　by　it。　She　could　still　hear　the　remark　sound　in　her　mind。　〃No；　left；　Seсorita　Conchita。〃　That　part　was　all　right。　But　left　when？　She　couldn't　remember　whether　they　had　been　ing　in　or　going　out　at　the　time。　Her　mind　had　been　full　of　him。
　　She　reeled　around　and　looked　behind　her。　The　urn　had　been　lost　long　ago。　All　that　met　her　eyes　was　another　of　those　vanishing　points；　no　different　from　the　one　in　front　of　her。
　　She'd　made　the　wrong　turning；　e　the　wrong　way。　She'd　plunged　deeper　into　this　fastness　of　the　dead；　instead　of　making　her　way　out。　The　preliminary　sobs　of　hysteria　started　to　form　in　her　throat；　each　one　rising　higher　than　the　one　before。　She　drove　both　hands　distractedly　through　the　ringleted　hair　that　Raul　had　once　admired　so；　dislodged　the　coronet　of　twisted　black　braid　that　encircled　it　and　the　veiling　depending　from　it。　They　fell　to　the　ground　behind　her；　and　she　let　them　stay　there　unheeded。
　　The　gates　must　be　closed　long　ago。　They'd　never　heard　her；　never　guessed。　She　was　locked　in　this　hideous　place　for　the　night；　and　no　one　knew　it。　They'd　gone　away　and　left　her　in　here；　with　the　dead。　She　knew　that　nearsighted　old　man　didn't　sleep　here　on　the　grounds。　The　little　kiosk　that　sheltered　him　during　visiting　hours　was　dark　and　locked　up　now。　Its　size　had　told　her　that　at　sight；　it　was　just　a　daytime　niche。
　　She　turned　and　tried　to　go　back　along　the　way　she　had　e　just　now。　One　faltering　step　was　all　she　could　manage。　Her　courage　failed　her。　She　couldn't　do　it。　She　couldn't　go　back　into　that　maw　of　darkness　behind　her　that　she　had　passed　through　once　already。　True；　it　was　as　dark　ahead　of　her；　but　there　was　something　even　worse　about　darkness　revisited　than　about　darkness　already　explored。　As　though　she　would　be　giving　latent　evil　a　second　chance　at　her　if　she　returned。　That　dolorously　crooning　wind　was　ing　from　back　there。　The　trees　were　rustling　and　hissing；　like　living　things　stalking　her；　from　back　there。
　　She　heeled　her　hands　to　her　eyes；　held　them　tightly　pressed　there　to　try　to　shut　out　the　terrible　sights　she　had　not　seen　yet；　but　was　afraid　she　might　have　to　see　at　any　minute。　Her　teeth　were　chattering　with　terror；　and　with　the　nervous　chill　induced　by　it。　She　took　her　hands　away　from　her　eyes　at　length；　and　found　she　had　begun　to　move　again；　without　knowing　it；　in　the　meantime。　Slowly　now；　uncertainly；　erratically；　without　purpose　or　destination。　She　was　meandering　down　the　center　of　the　avenue；　with　the　wavering　gait　of　someone　about　to　drop　in　a　heap　at　any　moment。　Still　in　the　direction　in　which　she　had　been　going　all　along；　for　she　could　still　go　forward　if　not　back。　Her　jerky；　unpredictable　progress　was　that　of　something　bereft　of　all　reason。　Which；　temporarily；　she　was。
　　A　bench　edged　up　beside　her　along　the　perimeter　of　the　lane；　bleached　white；　cadaverous　against　the　gloom；　like　something　with　an　invisible　spotlight　trained　on　it。　She　turned　aside；　fell　rather　than　walked　over　to　it；　and；　as　though　its　presence　and　support　were　some　sort　of　emotional　release；　flung　the　upper　part　of　her　body　prone　against　the　seat　of　it；　legs　trailing　out　behind　her　along　the　ground；　and　exploded　into　a　cataclysm　of　sobbing　that　was　so　violent　it　couldn't　by　its　very　nature　have　lasted　long　without　rendering　her　unconscious。
　　It　didn't。　She　stopped　again；　from　sheer　rib　stricture　and　breath　stoppage；　and　remained　there　quiescent。　But　not　unaware。　Fear　was　creeping　back　over　her　again；　like　a　thin　glazed　coating；　even　while　she　huddled　there　without　moving。　It　touched　off　reflex　action；　finally。　She　scissored　her　legs　suddenly；　like　a　swimmer　on　dry　ground；　switched　her　head　around；　looked　behind　her。　The　instinctive　reaction　of　those　in　the　dark；　afraid　of　the　dark。　A　scream　of　dismay　wrenched　through　her　stiffened　lips；　and　she　tried　to　burrow　her　head　and　shoulders　into　the　furthermost　inner　corner　of　the　bench　seat　and　back　with　such　spasmodic　terror　that　she　struck　her　forehead　violently　against　the　cold　hard　stone　and　still　didn't　even　feel　the　blow。
　　There　was　something　creeping　up　along　one　side　of　the　blurred　gray　pathway　upon　her。　Something　black；　sinuous；　belly…flat；　tail　snaking。　Sometimes　the　offside　gloom　effaced　it；　sometimes　the　lighter　tone　of　the　path　outlined　its　undulation。　But　on　one　side　only。　There　was　a　wink；　a　tiny　flash　too　dull　to　be　called　bright；　every　now　and　again　from　its　forepart；　as　a　ray　from　some　star　high　overhead　struck　some　glistening　or　liquefied　beadlike　area　receptive　to　light。
　　Its　advance　was　irregular；　with　the　irregularity　of　stealth。　It　would　undulate　quickly；　covertly；　forward；　so　quickly　the　ripple　it　made　seemed　almost　an　optical　illusion。　Then　it　would　stop　short；　seem　lifeless；　nothing　but　a　shadow；　gathering　itself　for　the　next　treacherous　little　creep。　Even　while　she　looked；　eyes　huge　with　brain…turning　horror；　she　saw　its　tail；　its　slender　ropelike　after　appendage；　give　a　little　flirt　upward；　a　twitch；　then　flatten　again。　It　made　another　little　stealthy；　squirming　run；　stopped　again　with　hair…trigger　timing。
　　She　was　paralyzed。　Approaching　dissolution　robs　the　body　of　movement。　She　was　cataleptically　silent；　after　that　first　scream　of　discovery；　for　the　same　reason。　There　is　a　depth　of　fright　beyond　screaming　that　is　silent。　She　had　heaved　herself　upward　off　the　ground　without　use　of　her　arms；　climbing　up　the　joint　between　bench　back　and　side　arm　by　motion　of　her　shoulders　alone；　without　turning　to　look　at　it。　That　was　the　most　she　could　do　to　try　to　get　away　from　it；　wedge　herself　distortedly　into　the　shallow　indentation　of　a　low　stone　bench；　arched　backbreakingly　at　the　waist　around　its　seat。　Her　face　was　a　frozen　grimace　of　convulsive　anticipation。
　　It　gave　no　warning。　It　was　as　unpredictable　as　mercury　or　lightning。　Suddenly　it　sprang；　streaked　out　at　her　feet…and　a　little　beyond；　as　though　it　had　overreached　itself。　Its　tail　part　came　lashing；　switching　after　it。
　　All　she　did　was　shudder；　in　a　form　of　death　without　contact。　Then　she　deflated　as　suddenly　as　it　had　leaped；　her　waist　sank　in；　rippled　down　over　the　edge　of　the　seat；　and　she　sidled　inertly　to　the　ground；　retched　a　couple　of　times。　There　beside　her　own　discarded　black　coif；　with　the　two　jet　ornaments　spaced　on　the　front　of　it；　and　the　long　sinuous　length　of　whipped…around　veiling；　that　bulged　like　muscular　haunches　in　places；　that　the　wind　had　been　sending　creeping　stealthily　up　on　her　a　little　at　a　time。
　　Cruel　minutes　went　by；　in　a　gift　of　renewed　life　that　was　hardly　wanted　any　more；　it　had　been　so　expensive。　She　got　to　her　feet　again　somehow；　presently；　the　black　garment　on　her　a　biased　misfit　now；　too　high　up　on　one　shoulder；　down　off　the　other　one　entirely。　Smoky　ribbons　on　her　white　legs　where　th