js&cs.thebridge-第58部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


d　were　either　headed　somewhere　fast　or　had　no　place　to　go。
　　In　the　outlying　regions；　as　well；　the　curtain　began　to　e　down　on　literally　hundreds　of　unfortunate　outdoor　events。　Ball　games　and　barbecues。　Weddings　and　funerals。　Camping　trips；　keggers　and　KKK　rallies。　All　of　them；　racing　against　the　clock：　one　eye　on　their　cars；　one　eye　on　the　ing　darkness。
　　There　were　just　over　a　hundred　and　eighty…seven　thousand　living　people　in　Paradise　County。　The　wind　blew　through　their　souls。　Their　heads　felt　light。　Their　lungs　felt　heavy。　They　sweated；　despite　the　cold。　Slow…blossoming；　ill…defined　dread　constricted　their　throats　and　coated　their　bellies　like　a　living　liquid；　a　sentient　glandular　secretion。　They　could　literally　feel　the　atmosphere　inside　their　bodies　change。
　　In　final　preparation。
　　For　the　storm。
　　
　　
　　　Forty…Four
　　　
　　There　were　certain　things；　Lydia　maintained；　that　one　simply　did　not　do。　Like　putting　an　electric　blanket　on　a　water　bed；　for　instance。　Or　eating　pork　sushi。　Or　autoerotic　strangulation。　You　didn't　do　these　things；　not　because　of　the　law；　but　because　they　were　basically　stupid　ideas。
　　So　it　wasn't　the　Art　Crime；　or　the　threat　of　getting　busted；　that　was　making　her　antsy。　It　was　the　fact　that　they　were　doing　it　so　close　to　a　major　body　of　water。
　　And　the　storm　was　almost　here。
　　Garth　and　Lydia　stood　at　the　foot　of　the　steep；　rocky　incline　that　led　down　into　the　Codorus　Basin；　where　the　creek　cut　through　the　center　of　town　on　its　way　to　Black　Bridge　and　the　river　beyond。　Standing　in　the　shadow　of　the　Philly　Street　Bridge；　they　were　pretty　well　hidden　from　the　road　above。
　　At　night；　the　rocky　banks　and　shadowed　overhang　were　a　hangout　zone　for　wayward　inner…city　youth；　but　by　daylight　they　were　desolate；　with　only　the　broken　beer　bottles；　empty　lipstick　tubes　and　used　condoms　to　remind　you　that　you　were　in　hell　and　found　your　pleasure　where　you　could。
　　Directly　across　the　creek　lay　the　End　Zone；　Paradise's　premier　yuppie　sports　bar。　Frank　Vickers's　environmental　action　group　had　convened　there；　as　usual；　to　save　the　world　while　keeping　track　of　the　NFL　action。　After　doing　such　a　swell　job　on　Garth's　old　man；　it　was　only　fair　to　spread　a　little　joy　in　Frank's　direction。
　　Under　the　shadow　of　the　bridge；　they　couldn't　see　you　from　the　road；　but　the　terrace　of　the　End　Zone　had　an　unobstructed　view。　On　the　concrete　wall　of　the　pumping　station　spillway；　Garth　was　spray…painting　their　little　love　note　in　jagged　letters　three　feet　high：
　　
　　DRINK　UP　AND　DIE；
　　YUPPIE　SCUM！
　　
　　And　it　was　lotsa　fun　and　all；　but　Lydia　was　getting　wired。　From　where　they　stood；　it　was　less　than　ten　feet　to　the　rank…smelling；　shit…churning；　Guinness…colored　waters　of　the　mighty　Codorus。　Worse　yet；　they　were　less　than　a　dozen　feet　from　the　dam：　a　reinforced　concrete　retainer　wall；　inset　every　few　feet　with　jutting　steel　teeth；　each　one　a　yard　long。　The　teeth　acted　as　a　flood　stop　and　general　shit…catcher　for　the　fetid　creek；　but　at　the　moment；　they　were　doubling　as　the　county's　largest　instant　lightning　rod。
　　And　the　storm　was　almost　here。
　　〃This　is　weird；〃　she　said；　gazing　up。　〃We　should　split。〃
　　〃Can't；〃　Garth　said。　He　was　working　on　the　ma。
　　〃You　really　wanna　die　in　an　electrical　storm？〃
　　He　shrugged；　his　back　to　her。
　　〃ARGH！〃　she　growled；　arms　flapping　in　frustration。　Then　she　turned　to　address　the　storm。　〃Go　ahead；〃　she　told　it。　〃This　man　is　too　stupid　to　live。〃
　　Garth　shook　his　head；　still　spraying。　Thinking　about　his　old　man；　and　hers。
　　〃No　such　thing；〃　he　assured　her。
　　When　the　first　peal　of　apocalypse　thunder　broke；　it　was　eight　minutes　to　three。
　　
　　
　　　Forty…Five
　　　
　　The　convoy　headed　south。
　　It　paced　itself：　an　advance　battalion；　running　just　minutes　ahead　of　the　storm。　From　the　north　side　of　town…as　yet　unaffected…the　traffic　was　sparse；　nigh　unto　barren。　There　was　nothing　to　stow　them　down。
　　At　seven　minutes　to　three；　it　came　to　a　red　light　just　outside　the　city　limits。　From　this　point　on；　stoplights　dotted　Route　30　as　far　as　the　eye　could　see。　They　had　left　the　boondocks　and　entered　the　land　of　fast…food　drive…thrus；　auto…service　franchises　and　largely　deserted　strip　malls；　all　garishly　hawking　the　good　life。
　　Red　lights　were　not　part　of　the　plan。
　　The　convoy　went　through。　From　its　position　in　the　lead；　the　Boonie…spawn　surveyed　the　point　where　the　Route　30　bypass　crossed　Interstate　83。　Overmind　cannibalized　his　memory；　sucking　shreds　of　knowledge　from　every　synapse　like　meat　off　a　chicken　bone。
　　These　were　the　major　east…west　and　north…south　highways。　This　was　the　hub　of　the　wheel。　Philly　and　New　York；　Baltimore　and　D。C。：　all　were　within　one　to　four　hours　of　driving　time。
　　Going　the　speed　limit。
　　Har　har　har。
　　Inside　Boonie；　Overmind　chuckled；　the　body　did　its　best　to　second　the　motion。　Crusty；　gravid　face…tissue　crinkled；　popped；　and　spurted　with　mirth。　More　scabs　tore　loose。　They　hung　in　strips。
　　In　the　raw　meat　beneath；　there　were　no　longer　extra　eyes。
　　Now　they　were　eggs。
　　Almost　ready　to　hatch。
　　The　Boonie…spawn's　truck　headed　south。　The　tankers　split　off：　one　east；　one　west。　The　tankers　would　lock　down　the　grid；　reconnoiter　on　the　far　side　of　town；　and　then　take　this　show　on　the　road。　Spreading　the　word。
　　But　for　the　Boonster；　this　was　good…bye。
　　Ah；　well。　It　was　fun　while　it　lasted。　They　laughed　as　they　went　their　separate　ways。　The　roads　stretched　like　arteries　through　the　city；　the　county；　the　body　of　the　world。
　　How　convenient。
　　
　　
　　　Forty…Six
　　　
　　The　whole　way　back　to　'PAL；　Kirk's　mind　was　a　thing　unchained：　racing　ahead　of　him；　flashing　back；　preediting　tape　in　his　head。
　　All　around　him；　near　and　distant；　sirens　whooped　and　shrieked　and　wailed。　Fire　trucks；　staters；　city　cops　went　smoking　past；　to　God　knows　where。　The　radio　was　no　help　at　all；　and　the　TAC　frequencies　weren't　any　better。　People　were　stepping　all　over　each　other。　Everyone　knew　something　was　happening。　But　they　didn't　know　what。
　　And　that　was　where　Kirk　came　in。　Kirk　Bogarde…Renegade　Reporter！；　with　the　scoop　of　a　lifetime。　Kirk　Bogarde…Renegade　Reporter！；　alone　in　the　lead；　while　the　petition　flailed　behind；　their　heads　wedged　up　their　asses。　Kirk　Bogarde…Renegade　Reporter！；　barreling　down　the　homestretch　with　a　fireball　in　his　gut：　a　feeling　one　part　orgasm；　one　part　motion　sickness；　one　part　sheer　white…knuckling　edge。
　　This　was　news。　Not　opening　shopping　centers。　Not　standing　outside　town　meetings。　Not　finding　out　whether　the　average　potato…shaped　Paradise　native　preferred　donuts　or　faschnachts　with　their　morning　coffee。　Or　had　they　kicked　caffeine？　Find　out　at　eleven！
　　Bullshit　bullshit　bullshit。　THIS　was　what　life　was　about！　Taking　chances；　following　hunches；　playing　out　leads；　and　nailing　the　truth　wherever　you　could　find　it。　Not　taking　your　cues　from　cowards　and　bullies…not　just　Doing　What　You're　Told…but　grabbing　the　world　by　the　throat　and　forcing　it　to　confess　its　sins　and　secret　passions；　cough　up　its　deepest　mysteries。
　　No　matter　what　the　cost。
　　Because　we　needed　the　truth。　We　deserved　the　truth。　We　could　not　live　without　the　truth。　And　Kirk　believed　that　to　fulfill　that　need　was　the　most　beautiful；　humbling；　terrifying；　and　altogether　essential　function　he　could　possibly　imagine。
　　To　be　a　part　of　something　real。
　　To　be　a　part　of　history。
　　The　ACTION…9　Newsmobile　screeched　into　'PAL's　parking　lot　at　seven　minutes　to　three。　Kirk　hopped　out；　ran　to　the　back　door；　thumbed　the　code　on　the　security　lock；　and　yanked　the　door　open　a　microsecond　after　the　electronic　dead　bolt　buzzed　back。　He　took　the　stairs　two　at　a　time；　clutching　the　camcorder；　spilling　through　the　newsroom　door　so　noisily　that　he　almost　gave　Laura　a　seizure。
　　〃I　GOT　IT！〃　he　crowed　exultantly。
　　〃Kirk！〃　she　cried　out；　eyes　afire　with　anger　and　relief。
　　And　he　grinned　at　her；　he　opened　his　mouth；　he　started　to　explain　what　had　happened　to　him；　and　he　got　as　far　as　inhaling　for　speech　when　he　found　himself　suddenly　spinning　。。。
　　。。。　and　Gary　was　there；　the　words　〃You　FUCK！〃　astonishingly　loud　in　Kirk's　ears　as　a　huge　fist　zeroed　in　on　his　left　e