cb.coldheart canyon-第58部分

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nced　between　solid　asphalt　and　oblivion。　Marco　muttered　a　little　prayer；　but　God　wasn't　listening。　The　car　tripped　forward　and　slid　off　the　road　into　darkness。　It　was　a　straight　drop　of　perhaps　forty　or　fifty　feet。
　 The　vehicle　didn't　hit　solid　ground；　however。　It　fell　into　the　massive　boughs　of　a　sycamore　tree；　which　was　large　enough　to　hold　the　car；　nose　down；　in　its　branches。　Marco　was　thrown　against　the　windshield。　Through　it　he　could　see　the　yard　in　which　the　sycamore　stood。　There　was　a　party　going　on　down　there。　The　pool　was　illuminated：　its　bright　turquoise　water　twinkling。　Lanterns　hung　in　the　bushes　all　around；　swaying　in　the　breeze。　Marco　had　time　to　grasp　the　prettiness　of　all　this；　then　something　ignited　in　the　engine；　and　the　fume…filled　air　around　him　became　a　sheet　of　lurid　orange　flame。　It　enveloped　him　pletely；　the　first　burst　of　heat　enough　to　sear　the　clothes　from　his　body　and　set　his　hair　and　flesh　alight。
　 Blindly；　he　fumbled　for　the　handle　of　the　door；　and　pulled　on　it。　The　rush　of　air　only　excited　the　flames　further。　Through　the　stench　of　gasoline　and　burning　plastic　he　could　smell　the　sickening　tang　of　his　own　body　being　cooked。　Still　he　fought　to　escape；　and　gravity　was　on　his　side。　The　car　was　so　positioned　that　he　had　only　to　lean　forward　and　fall　out　through　the　open　door。　The　sycamore's　boughs　slowed　his　descent；　but　once　he　was　dear　of　them　there　was　an　eighteen　foot　drop　to　the　polished　Mexican　pavers　around　the　pool。
　 He　scarcely　felt　the　impact。　The　fire　had　pletely　traumatized　his　nerve…endings。　Nor　could　he　see　anything：　his　eyelids　had　been　fused　shut　by　the　heat。　He　could　still　hear；　though　he　wouldn't　make　much　sense　of　the　garbled　cries　of　the　people　who　had　gathered　to　witness　his　agonies。
　 There　was　one　person　in　the　crowd　who　was　willing　to　do　more　than　stand　and　watch　him　burn。　Marco　felt　arms　grab　hold　of　him；　heard　his　savior　yelling　something　about　the　pool。　Then　he　was　in　free…fall　again；　as　the　man　who'd　picked　him　up　threw　him　into　the　water。
　 The　flames　were　instantly　extinguished。　But　the　cure　was　too　much　for　his　flesh　to　endure。　The　sudden　shock　of　cold　after　the　blistering　heat　of　the　fire　sent　his　body　into　systemic　failure。
　 His　last　breath…a　bubble　of　heated　air…escaped　from　his　cooked　lungs。　Then　he　sank　to　the　bottom　of　the　pool。
　 Even　so；　the　people　around　the　pool　didn't　give　up　on　him。　Three　of　the　partygoers　dived　into　the　pool　and　brought　his　blackened；　fire…withered　body　up　from　the　bottom。　He　was　tenderly　rifted　onto　the　side　of　the　pool；　where　one　of　the　girls　attempted　to　breathe　some　life　back　into　him。　But　it　was　a　lost　cause。　The　man　who'd　made　such　a　dramatic　entrance　into　the　gathering　was　dead；　and　beyond　hope　of　saving。
　
　 This　was　not　quite　the　end　of　events　along　that　stretch　of　Mulholland　Drive；　however。
　 Just　a　few　hours　later；　as　the　first　light　of　dawn　was　breaking；　a　jogger；　who　ran　a　two…mile　route　along　the　Drive　daily；　rain　or　shine；　saw　a　light　on　the　road；　close　to　the　place　where　Marco's　tires　had　left　their　blackened　imprint　on　the　asphalt。　Apparently　aware　that　it　had　an　unwanted　witness；　the　mysterious　luminescence　rose　up　into　the　brightening　air　and　was　gone。
　 The　following　evening；　Paul　Booth；　the　man　who'd　had　the　courage　to　carry　the　burning　body　of　Marco　Caputo　to　the　pool…went　out　into　the　back　yard；　alone。　He　was　in　a　melancholy　state　of　mind。　The　party　he'd　thrown　the　previous　night　had　been　in　honour　of　his　little　sister's　sixteenth　birthday。　Some　celebration！　Alice　had　barely　stopped　crying　since。　He　could　hear　her　now；　sobbing　in　the　house。
　 He　took　out　the　half…smoked　reefer　he'd　been　saving　for　a　happier　occasion；　and　lit　it　up。　As　he　drew　on　the　pungent　smoke；　he　looked　up　and　saw　a　patch　of　luminous　air　lingering　at　the　edge　of　the　pool。　It　had　no　discernible　shape。　It　was　simply　a　gentle　brightness；　which　would　have　been　invisible　half　an　hour　before；　when　the　sun　had　still　been　up。　He　watched　the　brightness　as　it　hung　there　for　ten；　perhaps　fifteen　seconds；　then　he　nipped　out　his　reefer；　pocketed　it；　and　went　back　inside　to　find　someone　to　tell。　He　found　his　father；　and　together　they　emerged　into　the　backyard。
　 The　light　had　already　gone　from　beside　the　pool。
　 〃There！〃　Paul　said；　pointing　up　at　something　that　could　have　been　the　light　he'd　seen；　now　up　on　Mulholland　Drive。　But　it　could　just　as　easily　have　been　the　light　of　a　car　ing　round　the　treacherous　corner　of　the　road。　And　anyway；　it　had　gone　in　a　heartbeat；　leaving　both　father　and　son　doubting　what　they'd　seen。
　
　
　SIX
　 In　the　depths　of　the　Canyon；　no　more　than　half　a　mile　from　the　pool　and　the　lawn　and　the　tree　where　Ava　hung；　Tammy　lay　in　the　dirt；　and　waited　for　the　end。　She'd　done　all　she　could　do　to　survive：　she　had　eaten　berries　and　licked　the　dew　off　leaves；　she'd　fought　off　the　fever…dreams　which　threatened　to　claim　her　consciousness；　she'd　forced　herself　to　walk　when　she　had　no　strength　left　in　her　limbs。
　 It　had　tricks；　this　canyon：　ways　to　lead　you　round　and　round　in　circles；　so　that　you　burned　up　all　your　energies　ing　back　to　the　place　you'd　started　from。　It　put　colors　before　your　eyes　that　were　so　bewitching　that　you　ended　up　turning　round　and　round　on　the　spot　to　catch　them；　like　a　dog　chasing　its　own　tail。　And　sometimes　（this　was　its　cleverest　trick）　it　went　into　your　head　and　found　the　voices　there　that　were　most　forting；　then　made　them　call　to　you。　Arnie　（of　all　people　to　find　forting；　Mr。　Zero　Sperm　Count）；　and　the　man　who　used　to　do　her　dry…cleaning　in　Sacramento；　Mr。　O'Brien；　who'd　always　had　a　smile　and　a　wink　for　her；　and　Todd；　of　course；　her　beautiful　hero　Todd；　calling　out　to　her　just　to　make　her　stumble　a　few　more　steps。　She　hadn't　quite　believed　any　of　these　voices　were　real；　but　that　hadn't　stopped　her　following　them；　back　and　forth；　around　and　about…voices　and　colors…until　at　last　she　had　no　strength　left　in　her　body；　and　she　fell　down。
　 So　now　she　was　down；　and　she　was　too　weak　to　get　up　again；　too　damn　heavy　ever　to　get　her　fat　ass　up　and　moving。　At　the　back　of　her　head　was　the　fear　that　the　freaks　would　e　and　find　her。　But　they　didn't　e；　at　least　by　daylight。　Perhaps；　she　thought；　they　were　waiting　for　darkness。　Meanwhile；　there　were　plenty　of　things　that　did　e：　flies；　dragonflies；　humming…birds；　all　flitting　around。
　 As　for　the　summonings　from　Arnie　and　Mr。　O'　Brien　and　Todd；　once　she　was　down　on　the　ground　none　of　these　came　either。　The　Canyon　knew　it　had　her　beaten。　All　it　had　to　do　was　wait；　and　she'd　perish　where　she　lay。
　
　 The　day　crept　on。　In　the　middle　of　the　afternoon　she　fell　into　a　stupefied　daze；　and　when　she　woke　experienced　a　short　and　surprising　burst　of　renewed　ambition　to　save　herself。　After　much　effort　she　managed　to　get　to　her　feet；　and　started　to　walk　in　what　she　thought　was　the　direction　of　the　house　（sometimes　she　seemed　to　see　the　roof　through　the　trees；　sometimes　not）；　but　after　ten　minutes　the　Canyon　seemed　to　realize　she　was　up　and　walking；　and　it　began　its　little　tricks　afresh。　The　colors　came　back。　So　did　the　voices。
　 She　fell　to　her　knees；　crying；　begging　it　to　leave　her　alone。　But　it　was　merciless；　the　voices　were　louder　than　ever；　yelling　incoherently　in　her　head；　the　sky　was　every　color　but　blue。
　 〃Okay；〃　she　said。　〃Okay；　okay。　Just　leave　me　alone　to　die。　I　won't　get　up　again。　I　promise。　I　swear。　Just　leave　me　be。〃
　 It　seemed　to　get　the　message；　because　by　degrees　the　yelling　receded；　and　the　colors　dimmed。
　 She　lay　back　in　the　foliage；　and　watched　the　sky　darken；　the　stars　emerge。　Birds　flew　overhead；　returning　to　their　nests　before　the　onset　of　night。　She　envied　them；　just　a　little；　but　then　what　did　she　have　to　go　home　to；　in　truth？　A　house　in　the　suburbs　she'd　never　really　loved；　a　husband；　the　same。　What　a　mess　she'd　made　of　her　life！　What　a　ridiculous；　empty　mess！　All　that　time　wasted　doting　on　a　man　she'd　seen　on　a　screen；　hours　spent　flicking　through　her　treasures；　fantasizing。　Never　really　living。　That　was　the　horror　of　it。　She　was　going　to　die　and　she'd　never　really　lived。
　 The　sky　was　almost　lightless　now。　She　could　barely　see　her　hand　in　front　of　her　face。　She　let　her　eyes　slide　closed；　draping　the　stars。　In　the　grass