dk.intensity-第72部分

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　Protective　gear　designed　for　Vess　was　huge　on　Chyna；　and　she　vacillated　between　feeling　ridiculous　and　worrying　that　she　would　be　dangerously　impeded　by　the　bulky　garb。　She　had　rolled　up　the　bottoms　of　the　chaps　and　fixed　them　in　place　with　large　safety　pins　that　she'd　found　in　a　sewing　kit　in　the　laundry　room。　The　belts　of　the　chaps　featured　loops　and　long　Velcro　closures；　so　she　was　able　to　cinch　them　tight　enough　to　keep　them　from　sliding　down　over　her　hips。　The　cuffs　of　the　padded　sleeves　were　folded　back　and　pinned　too；　and　the　Kevlar　vest　helped　to　bulk　her　up；　so　she　wasn't　quite　swimming　in　the　jacket。　She　wore　a　segmented　plastic…armor　collar　that　encircled　her　neck　and　prevented　the　dogs　from　tearing　out　her　throat。　She　couldn't　have　been　more　cumbersomely　dressed　if　she'd　been　cleaning　up　nuclear　waste　in　a　post…meltdown　reactor。
　Nevertheless；　she　was　vulnerable　in　places；　especially　at　her　feet　and　ankles。　Vess's　training　togs　included　a　pair　of　leather　bat　boots　with　steel　toes；　but　they　were　much　too　big　for　her。　As　protection　against　attack　dogs；　her　soft　Rockports　were　hardly　more　effective　than　bedroom　slippers。　In　order　to　get　to　the　motor　home　without　being　severely　bitten；　she　would　have　to　be　quick　and　aggressive。
　She　had　considered　carrying　a　club　of　some　kind。　But　with　her　agility　impaired　by　the　layers　of　protective　gear；　she　couldn't　use　it　effectively　enough　to　hurt　any　of　the　Dobermans　or　even　dissuade　them　from　attacking。
　Instead；　Chyna　was　equipped　with　two　lever…action　spray　bottles　that　she'd　found　in　a　laundry…room　cabinet。　One　had　been　filled　with　a　liquid　glass　cleaner　and　the　other　with　a　spot　remover　for　use　o'Ta　carpets　and　upholstery。　She　had　emptied　both　bottles　into　the　kitchen　sink；　rinsed　them　out；　considered　filling　them　with　bleach；　but　chose　pure　ammonia；　of　which　the　fastidious　Vess；　the　keeper　of　a　spotless　house；　possessed　two　one…quart　containers。　Now　the　plastic　spray　bottles　stood　beside　the　front　door。　The　nozzle　on　each　could　be　adjusted　to　produce　a　spray　or　a　stream；　and　both　were　set　at　STREAM。
　In　the　armchair；　Ariel　continued　to　hug　herself　and　to　rock　back　and　forth　in　silence；　gazing　down　at　the　carpet。
　Although　it　was　unlikely　that　the　catatonic　girl　would　get　up　from　the　chair　and　go　anywhere　on　her　own；　Chyna　said；　〃Now；　you　stay　right　where　you　are；　honey。　Don't　move；　okay？　I'll　be　back　for　you　soon。〃
　Ariel　didn't　reply。
　〃Don't　move。〃
　Chyna's　layers　of　protective　clothing　were　beginning　to　weigh　painfully　on　her　bruised　muscles　and　sore　joints。　Minute　by　minute；　the　disfort　was　going　to　make　her　slower　mentally　and　physically。　She　had　to　act　while　she　was　still　reasonably　sharp。
　She　put　on　the　visored　helmet。　She　had　lined　the　interior　with　a　folded　towel　so　it　wouldn't　sit　loosely　on　her　head；　and　the　chin　strap　helped　to　keep　it　secure。　The　curved　shield　of　Plexiglas　came　two　inches　below　her　chin；　but　the　underside　was　open　to　allow　air　to　flow　in　freely　and　there　were　six　small　holes　across　the　center　of　the　pane　for　additional　ventilation。
　She　stepped　to　one　front　window　and　then　to　the　other；　looking　onto　the　porch；　which　was　visible　in　the　light　that　spilled　out　from　the　living…room　lamps。　There　were　no　Dobermans　in　sight。
　The　yard　beyond　the　porch　was　dark；　and　the　meadow　beyond　the　yard　seemed　as　black　as　the　far　side　of　the　moon。　The　dogs　might　be　standing　out　there；　watching　her　silhouette　in　the　lighted　windows。
　In　fact；　they　might　be　waiting　just　beyond　the　porch　balustrade；　crouched　and　ready　to　spring。
　She　glanced　at　the　clock。　Ten　thirty…eight。
　〃Oh；　God；　1　don't　want　to　do　this；〃　she　murmured。
　Curiously；　she　remembered　a　cocoon　that　she'd　found　when　she　and　her　mother　had　been　staying　with　some　people　in　Pennsylvania　fourteen　or　fifteen　years　before。　The　chrysalis　had　been　hanging　from　a　twig　on　a　birch　tree；　semitransparent　and　backlit　by　a　beam　of　sunlight；　so　she　had　been　able　to　see　the　insect　within。　It　was　a　butterfly　that　had　passed　all　the　way　through　the　pupa　stage；　a　fully　mature　imago。　Its　metamorphosis　plete；　it　had　been　quivering　frantically　within　the　cocoon；　its　wirelike　legs　twitching　ceaselessly；　as　if　it　was　eager　to　be　free　but　frightened　of　the　hostile　world　into　which　it　would　be　bom。　Now；　in　her　padding　and　hard…plastic　armor；　Chyna　quivered　like　that　butterfly；　although　she　was　not　eager　to　burst　free　into　the　night　world　that　awaited　her　but　wanted　to　withdraw　even　deeper　into　her　chrysalis。
　She　went　to　the　front　door。　She　pulled　on　the　stained　leather　gloves；　which　were　heavy　but　surprisingly　flexible。　They　were　too　large　but　had　adjustable　Velcro　bands　at　the　wrists　to　hold　them　in　place。
　She　had　sewn　a　brass　key　to　the　thumb　of　the　right…hand　glove；　running　the　thread　through　the　hole　in　the　key　bow。　The　entire　blade；　with　all　its　tumbler…activating　serrations；　extended　beyond　the　tip　of　the　thumb；　so　it　could　be　inserted　easily　into　the　keyway　on　the　door　of　the　motor　home。　She　didn't　want　to　have　to　fumble　the　key　from　a　pocket　with　the　dogs　attacking　from　all　sides…and　she　sure　as　hell　didn't　want　to　risk　dropping　it。
　Of　course；　the　vehicle　might　not　be　locked。　But　she　wasn't　taking　any　chances。
　From　the　floor；　she　picked　up　the　spray　bottles。　One　in　each　hand。　Again；　she　checked　to　be　sure　that　they　were　set　on　STREAM。
　She　quietly　disengaged　the　deadbolt　lock；　listened　for　the　hollow　thump　of　paws　on　the　board　floor；　and　finally　cracked　the　door。
　The　porch　looked　clear。　Chyna　crossed　the　threshold　and　quickly　pulled　the　door　shut　behind　her；　fumbling　at　the　knob　because　she　was　hampered　by　the　plastic　bottles　in　her　hands。
　She　hooked　her　fingers　around　the　levers　on　the　bottles。　The　effectiveness　of　these　weapons　would　depend　on　how　fast　the　dogs　came　at　her　and　whether　she　could　aim　well　in　the　brief　window　of　opportunity　that　they　would　give　her。
　In　a　night　as　windless　as　it　was　deep；　the　seashell　mobile　hung　motionless。　Not　even　a　single　leaf　stirred　on　the　tree　at　the　north　end　of　the　porch。
　The　night　seemed　to　be　soundless。　With　her　ears　under　the　padded　helmet；　however；　she　wasn't　able　to　hear　small　noises。
　She　had　the　weird　feeling　that　the　entire　world　was　but　a　highly　detailed　diorama　sealed　inside　a　glass　paperweight。
　Without　even　the　faintest　breeze　to　carry　her　scent　to　the　dogs；　maybe　they　would　not　be　aware　that　she　had　e　outside。
　Yeah；　and　maybe　pigs　can　fly　butjust　don't　want　us　to　know。　The　fieldstone　steps　were　at　the　south　end　of　the　porch。　The　motor　home　stood　in　the　driveway；　twenty　feet　from　the　bottom　of　the　steps。
　Keeping　her　back　to　the　wall　of　the　house；　she　edged　to　her　right。　As　she　moved；　she　glanced　repeatedly　to　her　left　at　the　railed　north　side　of　the　porch；　and　out　past　the　balustrade　into　the　front　yard　directly　ahead　of　her。　No　dogs。
　The　night　was　so　chilly　that　her　breath　formed　a　faint　fog　on　the　inside　of　her　visor。　Each　flare　of　condensation　faded　quickly　but　each　seemed　to　fan　out　across　the　Plexiglas　farther　than　the　one　before　it。　In　spite　of　the　ventilation　from　under　her　chin　and　through　the　six　penny…size　holes　across　the　center　of　the　pane；　she　began　to　worry　that　her　own　hot　exhalations　were　gradually　going　to　leave　her　effectively　blind。　She　was　breathing　hard　and　fast；　and　she　was　hardly　more　able　to　slow　her　rate　of　respiration　than　quiet　the　rapid　pounding　of　her　heart。
　If　she　blew　each　breath　out；　angling　it　toward　the　open　bottom　of　the　face　shield；　she　would　be　able　to　minimize　the　problem。　This　resulted　in　a　faint；　hollow　whistling　characterized　by　a　vibrato　that　revealed　the　depth　of　her　fear。
　Two　small　sliding　steps；　three；　four：　She　eased　sideways　past　the　living…room　window。　She　was　unfortably　aware　of　the　light　at　her　back。　Silhouetted　again。
　She　should　have　turned　all　the　lights　out；　but　she　hadn't　wanted　Ariel　to　be　alone　in　the　dark。　In　her　current　condition；　perhaps　the　girl　would　not　have　known　if　the　lights　were　on　or　off；　but　it　had　felt　wrong　to　leave　her　in　blackness。
　Having　crossed　half　the　distance　from　the　door　to　the　south　end　of　the　porch　without　incident；　Chyna　grew　bolder。　Instead　of　edging　sideways；　she　turned　directly　toward　the　steps　and　shuffled　for