dk.intensity-第43部分

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t　going　to　be　easy　to　break　down。
　Tatta…tatta…tatta　。。。　She　had　only　one　choice。　She　went　to　the　cellar　stairs。　Blue　steel　gleaming　in　her　hand。　Even　if　he　finished　showering　and　shut　off　the　water　before　Chyna　was　able　to　reach　him；　he'd　still　be　naked　and　defenseless；　toweling　off；　so　she　would　go　in　there；　into　the　bathroom；　and　open　fire　on　him　point…blank；　shoot　him　down；　empty　the　revolver　into　him；　the　first　shot　right　through　his　fucking　heart；　then　put　at　least　one　round　in　his　face；　to　be　sure　that　he　was　really　done　for。　Take　no　chances。　No　chances　at　all。　Use　every　round；　squeeze　the　trigger　until　the　hammer　click…click…clicked　on　the　expended　cartridges　in　a　totally　empty　cylinder。　She　could　do　it。　Kill　the　crazy　freak；　kill　him　over　and　over　again；　kill　him　until　he　stayed　killed。　She　could　do　it；　would　do　it。
　She　climbed　the　steep　stairs；　treading　on　wet　footprints　that　she'd　left　in　her　descent：　Chyna　Shepherd　no　longer　hiding；　up　and　out　of　that　hole；　untouched；　alive；　ing　out　of　Narnia　forever。
　Tatta…tatta…tatta　。。。　Thinking　ahead　as　she　moved；　Chyna　wondered　if　she　should　shoot　him　through　the　shower　curtain…if　it　was；　in　fact；　a　curtain　instead　of　a　glass　door…because　if　she　didn't　shoot　him　through　it；　then　she　would　have　to　hold　the　revolver　in　just　one　hand　while　she　yanked　the　curtain　or　the　door　aside。　That　would　be　risky；　because　a　strange　and　dismaying　weakness　was　creeping　into　her　fingers　and　into　her　wrists。　Her　arms　were　shaking　so　badly　that　already　she　had　to　grip　the　weapon　with　both　hands　to　prevent　herself　from　dropping　it。
　Her　heart　rattling　like　the　copper　pipe；　scared　about　the　ing　confrontation　even　if　the　crazy　geek　was　naked　and　defenseless；　Chyna　reached　the　upper　landing　and　entered　the　laundry　room。
　She　couldn't　shoot　him　through　the　curtain；　because　she　wouldn't　know　whether　she'd　hit　him　or　not。　She'd　be　shooting　blind；　unable　to　aim　for　his　chest　or　head。
　Past　the　dryer　and　the　washer；　through　the　fragrance　of　laundry　detergent；　she　reached　the　open　door　to　the　kitchen。　Crossing　the　threshold；　she　belatedly　registered　the　important　thing　that　she　had　seen　on　the　landing　at　the　head　of　the　cellar　stairs：　wet　shoeprints　larger　than　her　own；　among　her　prints；　overlapping　her　prints；　where　he　had　stood　only　a　short　while　ago。
　She　was　already　rushing　into　the　kitchen；　with　too　much　momentum　to　halt；　and　the　killer　came　at　her　from　the　right；　past　the　dinette　set。　He　was　big；　strong；　a　juggernaut；　neither　naked　nor　defenseless；　the　shower　having　been　a　ruse　all　along。
　He　was　fast；　but　she　was　marginally　faster。　He　tried　to　drive　her　backward　and　slam　her　against　the　cabinets；　but　she　slid　out　of　the　way；　raising　the　revolver；　with　the　muzzle　three　feet　from　his　face；　and　she　pulled　the　trigger；　and　the　hammer　made　a　dry；　stick…breaking　sound　as　it　fell　on　an　empty　chamber。
　She　backed　hard　into　the　side　of　the　refrigerator；　dislodging　the　kittens…and…lilies　calendar；　which　clattered　to　the　floor　at　her　feet。
　The　killer　was　still　rushing　at　her。　She　squeezed　the　trigger；　and　the　revolver　clicked　again；　which　made　no　sense…shit…because　the　clerk　in　the　service　station　never　had　a　chance　to　fire　it　before　he　had　been　blown　away　by　the　shotgun。　No　cartridges　should　be　missing。
　This　was　the　first　time　that　she　had　seen　the　killer's　face。　Always　before；　she'd　glimpsed　just　the　back　of　his　head；　the　top　of　his　skull；　the　side　of　his　face　but　from　a　distance。　He　was　not　what　she　had　expected；　not　moon…faced　and　pale…lipped　and　heavy…jawed。　He　was　handsome；　with　blue　eyes　that　were　a　beautiful　contrast　with　his　dark　hair…nothing　crazy　in　his　clear　eyes…broad　clean　features；　and　a　nice　smile。
　Smiling；　he　continued　to　e　straight　at　her　as　she　squeezed　the　trigger　a　third　time；　and　the　hammer　fell　yet　again　on　an　empty　chamber。　Smiling；　he　tore　the　revolver　out　of　her　hand　with　such　force　that　she　thought　her　finger　broke　before　it　slipped　through　the　trigger　guard；　and　she　squealed　in　pain。
　The　killer　backed　away　from　her；　holding　the　weapon；　his　eyes　sparkling　with　excitement。　〃What　a　kick　that　was。〃
　Chyna　huddled　against　the　side　of　the　refrigerator；　tramping　on　kitten　faces。
　〃I　knew　it　was　the　same　gun；〃　he　said；　〃but　what　if　I'd　been　wrong？　I'd　have　one　big　hole　in　my　face　right　now；　wouldn't　1；　little　lady？〃
　Weak　and　dizzy　with　terror；　she　looked　around　desperately　for　anything　that　could　be　used　as　a　weapon；　but　there　was　nothing　close　at　hand。
　〃One　big　hole　in　my　face；〃　he　repeated；　as　if　he　found　that　prospect　amusing。
　One　of　the　cabinets　might　contain　knives；　but　she　had　no　way　of　knowing　which　drawer　to　check。
　〃Intense；〃　he　said；　smiling　at　the　revolver　in　his　hand。
　A　pistol　lay　on　the　counter　across　the　kitchen；　beside　the　sink；　well　out　of　her　reach。　Chyna　couldn't　believe　this：　He　had　brought　a　gun　of　his　own；　but　he　hadn't　used　it；　had　set　it　aside；　and　had　gone　for　her　barehanded　instead。　
　〃You're　an　attractive　woman。〃
　She　looked　away　from　the　pistol；　hoping　he　hadn't　noticed　that　she'd　seen　it。　But　she　was　fooling　herself；　and　she　knew　it；　because　he　saw　everything；　everything。
　He　pointed　the　revolver　at　her。　〃You　were　back　there　in　the　service　station　last　night。〃
　She　was　gasping　for　breath；　but　she　didn't　seem　to　be　drawing　any　air。　She　was　breathing　too　fast　and　too　shallowly；　in　danger　of　hyper…ventilating；　and　she　was　furious　with　herself；　firious；　because　he　was　so　calm。
　He　said；　〃I　know　you　were　there；　somehow；　somewhere；　and　I　know　you　found　this　Chief's　Special　after　I　left；　but　for　the　life　of　me；　I　can't　figure　why　you're　here。〃
　Maybe　she　would　be　able　to　get　to　the　pistol　before　he　could　stop　her。　It　was　a　million…to…one　chance。　Two　million；　three。　Hell；　face　it；　impossible。
　From　five　feet　away；　aiming　the　revolver　at　the　bridge　of　her　nose；　his　voice　bubbly　with　exhilaration；　the　killer　said；　〃But　even　though　it　was　the　Asian's　piece；　I　was　walking　into　the　mouth　of　the　dragon　here。　I　was　lucky　just　now。　Are　you？〃
　Although　reaching　the　pistol　was　probably　impossible；　she　didn't　have　any　alternatives。　Nothing　to　lose。
　With　a　note　of　impatience；　he　said；　〃Honey；　listen　to　me；　please；　I'm　talking　to　you。　Do　you　feel　lucky　right　now？　As　lucky　as　I've　been？〃
　Trying　not　to　stare　at　the　pistol；　reluctant　to　look　into　his　too…normal　eyes；　she　gazed　down　the　bore　of　the　revolver　and　managed　to　say；　〃No；〃　and　she　half　believed　that　she　heard　that　single　word　echoing　back　to　her　out　of　the　barrel；　No。
　〃Let's　see　if　you　are。〃
　No。
　〃Oh；　be　adventurous；　sweetheart。　Let's　see　if　you're　lucky；〃　he　said；　and　he　pulled　the　trigger。
　Although　the　weapon　had　failed　to　fire　three　times；　she　expected　it　to　explode　in　her　face；　because　that　seemed　to　be　the　way　luck　was　running　for　her；　and　she　flinched。
　Click。　
　〃You　are　lucky；　even　more　so　than　I　am。〃
　Chyna　didn't　know　what　he　was　talking　about。　She　couldn't　focus　her　thoughts　on　anything　but　the　pistol　by　the　sink；　this　last　miraculous　chance。
　〃When　Fuji　started　to　pull　this　piece　on　me；〃　the　killer　said；　〃didn't　you　hear　what　I　promised　him？〃
　All　this　talking　and　the　bastard's　calm　demeanor　unnerved　Chyna　even　further。　She　expected　him　to　shoot　her；　cut　her；　beat　her；　and　probably　rape　her；　torture　answers　from　her　before　or　after；　but　she　didn't　expect　to　have　to　chat　with　him；　for　God's　sake；　as　if　what　they　had　been　through　was　only　a　pleasant　little　road　trip；　a　shared　vacation　that　had　taken　a　couple　of　interesting　twists。
　Still　pointing　the　revolver　at　her；　he　said；　〃What　I　told　Fuji　was；　'Don't；　or　I'll　shove　the　bullets　up　your　ass。'　I　always　keep　my　promises。　Don't　you？〃
　His　patter　finally　captured　her　undivided　attention。　
　〃In　such　poor　light；　and　with　all　that　blood　everywhere；　not　wanting　to　look；　squeamish；　you　probably　didn't　see　that　Fuji's　pants　were　pulled　down。〃
　He　was　right。　After　a　glance　showed　her　that　the　clerks　were　both　dead；　she　had　averted　her　eyes　and　stepped　around　their　bodies。
　He　said；　〃I　managed　to　insert　four　rounds　in　him。〃　
　Now　she　closed　her　eyes。　Opened　them　at　once。　She　didn't　want　to　see　him；　looming　and　handsome　with　his　nice　smile；　dry　bloodstains　on　his　clothes　and　nothing　d