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pzb.lostsouls-第56部分

小说: pzb.lostsouls 字数: 每页4000字

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  He was about to go in search of some fruit juice when Steve loomed in front of him; swaying slightly; reeking of beer; his T…shirt stained with it。 Steve grabbed Ghost's hands and pulled him up。 〃Let's go。〃
  They staggered out to the T…bird; Steve leaning most of his weight on Ghost。 When Steve tried to get behind the wheel; Ghost said; 〃Uh…uh。 I'm driving。〃
  Steve put the keys in his hand without argument。 Ghost slid in and cranked up the engine。 Beside him; Steve lay against the passenger door; eyes slitted; staring up at the night sky。
  Ghost reached over and touched Steve's shoulder。 〃Steve。 Hey; Steve。 Where we going?〃
  〃New Orleans;〃 said Steve without looking away from the stars。 〃Drive。〃
  
   Chapter 23
  
  〃She's going to what?〃 said Molochai when Christian told them。
  〃Again?〃 said Twig。 〃What would we do with a baby?〃 
  〃We could eat it;〃 Molochai offered。
  Zillah grimaced。 〃Eat my baby! Are you mad?〃 After a moment's reflection he added; 〃Nothing and I might eat it; but you couldn't have any。〃
  〃Zilllllaaaah 。 。 。〃 
  〃Pleeeeeezzze?。。。〃
  〃Not one drop。 Not one pink sugar drop。〃
  They might eat it; too; thought Christian。 They just might; even if it was Nothing's half…brother or …sister。 The idea did not strike Christian as particularly immoral; but it made him sad。 He stood silently before them; considering Zillah。 Those eyes; and the perfect pink lips twisted in amusement or disgust; and his entourage clustered around him。
  For a moment Christian almost disliked them。 Not Nothing; but the other three。 He hated their insouciance; their cheerful cruelty。 They didn't care about the girl。 Their time in Missing Mile was done。 They would go on to New Orleans and carry on their never…ending party without a backward glance。 It did not matter to them that another girl's belly would swell with a malignant child; a child that would eventually rip her open and bleed her dry。
  〃You must get rid of it;〃 he had told her。 He'd been out behind the trailer cutting the last roses of the season。 The bushes were dry now; brown and gnarled。 Somehow he would have to stretch his ine from the bartending job to pay the rent on the trailer and buy the sweets and liquor that the others throve upon。
  Nothing had already offered to look for a job; he was goodhearted; but what place would hire a boy who looked so young and so strange? And Molochai; Twig; and Zillah were used to their luxurious nomadic life; travelling from city to city; living off the blood and money of their kills。 But in Missing Mile there were no wealthy victims。 There were only drifters and bastard children and travellers who had lost their way。
  As he was cutting the last rose; a great frothy pink…orange thing whose veined petals curled delicately into red at the edges; the girl Ann came up behind him and touched his sleeve。 Christian had seen her near the trailer before; trying to look through the windows; tugging at the doors of the black van。 He had not known precisely what had happened between her and Zillah。 When she told him; Christian's heart sank。 Had Zillah grown up not at all in fifteen years? Had he never heard of condoms?
  〃I'll have a beautiful baby;〃 she said。 〃With green; green eyes。
  〃It will kill you;〃 he told her。 〃They'll leave you and you'll be alone; and it will kill you。〃 He turned to face her; the huge rose in one hand; a rusty pair of scissors in the other。 〃Listen to me。 You have to get rid of it。 You must。〃 
  〃Why?〃
  Christian met her eyes。 Ann's eyes danced like spiders; they gleamed; empty of reason; She had not looked that way a month ago at the Sacred Yew。 Already Zillah's essence was infecting her as it had infected Jessy。
  He could tell her the truth。 That Zillah was of another race; a race whose seed was bloody poison。 That Zillah's baby would rip her apart inside and she would die as Jessy had died fifteen years ago; her thighs sticky with blood; her eyes rolled back silver…rimmed in her head。 Yes; he might tell her all that。 She was already mad enough to believe it。 But if she knew what danger she was in; she might tell someone else。 She might convince someone。 And that would endanger Nothing; would endanger Zillah and the others。 The young; the fine; the fire of a dying race。 No。 He could not betray them。
  〃You must get rid of it because he will leave you;〃 Christian said lamely。 〃You'll be alone。〃
  〃I'll follow them wherever they go;〃 Ann said。 〃I'll follow Zillah。〃
  Her hair hung loose about her face; straggling; bright as flames。 She was just a girl。 A girl like Jessy; a human girl who should have a life without fear or pain caused by the whims of others。 A girl who should have healthy children that she could live to care for。 Babies she could nurse at her breast; babies that would not feed upon the tissue of her innards。
  Christian knew he could not let the others leave him a second time。 He could not watch that black van disappear down the road and wonder whether he would ever see it again。 If they left Missing Mile; he would follow them。 They would protect him from Wallace Creech。 And if Ann followed too; perhaps he could convince her。 Perhaps there would be some way to keep her from giving birth to another of Zillah's beautiful; deadly children。
  〃They'll go to New Orleans;〃 he told her。 〃To the French Quarter。〃 There; it was done。 She might follow them; she might find them。 She might not。
  Christian turned away toward the trailer。 He did not look back at the girl who stood by the rosebushes; the girl with funereal black lace tied in her bright hair。 The girl who even though there was no physical resemblance; none at all; reminded him so strongly of Jessy fifteen years ago。
  The same bewitched light shone in her eyes。
  
  
   Chapter 24
  
  After they left the Halloween party; Ghost drove to Ann's house。 Her Datsun was not parked in the driveway; but her father's red Buick was。 Ghost didn't want to talk to Simon Bransby; not tonight; not about all this。 And he could see that there was no light on in Ann's corner room。
  Ghost swung past the Greyhound station over by the old Farmer's Hardware store。 Ann's car was in the parking lot; but it already looked abandoned。 The bus station was dark; no one sat on the lone bench out back。 The southbound night bus came through Missing Mile every night at 10:05。 It was long gone。
  Ghost drove back to Burnt Church Road; grabbed their toothbrushes and Steve's bag of pot; and pointed the car out of town。 He could think of nothing better to do。 New Orleans; Steve had said; and Ann was probably headed there too。
  Steve slumped against the passenger door; his breathing deep; heavy; exhausted。 He was in no shape to answer questions。 So Ghost took N。C。 42 south out of Missing Mile without looking over his shoulder。 He knew he would be back。 He and Steve could travel anywhere; but they always came back to Missing Mile。
  The road made him as nervous as a racehorse。 He wasn't good at driving; not like Steve。 Driving was in Steve's blood。 But the highway billowed and writhed before Ghost's eyes; stars glittered in the rearview mirror; the moon dodged shreds of pale cloud。 The night was dark; then bright; then dark again。
  Halloween night。 A bad time to travel。 What might be keeping pace with the T…bird? What strange eyes might mark the car's passage? Ghost kept the windows cranked tight shut; kept his nostrils flared for trouble。
  As he drove past Miz Catlin's place; Ghost saw a lone candle flickering in the front window。 Miz Catlin knew enough to stay inside tonight; her small fire warming the good spirits and keeping the bad ones away。
  With a longing that ached in his bones; Ghost wished he were asleep between the crisp faded sheets of Miz Catlin's guest bed。 He had spent so many childhood nights in that bed; napping; waking and tossing; twining his fingers in his hair and trying to hear the quiet conversations of Miz Catlin and his grandmother in the next room。 Sometimes they spoke of things he couldn't understand; things that frightened him; names he could never recall when clear sunlight spilled through the windowpanes the next morning。 Astaroth

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