pzb.lostsouls-第58部分

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e　and　the　sole　of　Willy's　boot　came　down　on　his　ribs。　Or　maybe　it　was　Willy　punching　him　in　the　face　and　Charlie　stomping　his　ribs。　It　didn't　matter。
　　He　grabbed　a　thick　jeans…clad　ankle　and　yanked。　Charlie　went　down。　The　hammer　flew　out　of　his　hand　and　thunked　into　the　dust　six　feet　away。　Steve　smelled　shit。　It　was　masked　under　the　smell　of　cheap　beer　and　redneck　sweat；　but　it　was　shit　all　right。　He　thought　of　saying　Pardon　me；　but　which　one　of　you　stepped　in　shit？　and　snorted　more　laughter；　crazy　laughter；　through　the　pain　in　his　face　and　his　ribs。
　　Willy　was　ing　for　him　again。　He　brought　his　legs　up　and　pistoned　both　boot　heels　into　the　greasy　crotch　of　Willy's　jeans。　Willy　doubled　up　with　only　a　loud　grunt；　apparently　he　was　more　of　a　man　than　Charlie。　But　here　came　good　old　Charlie　again；　and　he'd　got　his　silver　hammer　back；　could　you　say　amen　and　hallelujah；　and　he　was　raising　it　high　above　his　head。　Steve　wondered　briefly　whether　maybe　he　should　have　had　his　soul　saved　after　ail。
　　And　then　Ghost　shot　into　the　fray；　screaming　like　a　mad　thing　and　swinging　his　own　hammer；　the　one　Steve　always　kept　under　the　front　seat　of　the　car。　Ghost's　hammer　connected　with　Charlie's　elbow；　and　Steve　heard　something　crack。　He　just　managed　to　get　out　from　under　Charlie's　hammer　as　Charlie　dropped　it；　howling　and　clutching　his　elbow。　Steve　grabbed　the　stray　hammer；　rolled；　and　came　up　on　his　feet。　Now　he　and　Ghost　both　had　hammers。　They　faced　the　rednecks；　keeping　each　other　covered。
　　The　rednecks　didn't　seem　like　much　of　a　threat　now；　cringing　back　against　the　wall　of　the　building。　Willy's　hands　were　still　cupped　tenderly　around　his　crotch。　Charlie's　right　arm　dangled　uselessly；　his　face　had　gone　the　color　of　bad　cheese。　They　stared　at　Steve　and　Ghost　like　cornered　possums；　too　stupid　to　be　really　scared；　but　wary。
　　〃We　ought　to　bash　your　cracker　brains　in；〃　Steve　told　them。
　　〃But　we're　not；〃　Ghost　said　hurriedly。　〃We're　just　gonna　get　back　in　our　car　and　leave。　Don't　make　any　fast　moves。〃　He　brandished　his　hammer　at　them。
　　Steve　waved　his　too；　but　he　was　beginning　to　feel　he　had　lost　control　of　the　situation。　He　edged　around　the　front　end　of　the　car　and　pulled　his　door　open。　Out　of　the　corner　of　his　eye　he　saw　Ghost　doing　the　same。　They　threw　themselves　in　and　both　doors　slammed　at　once。　Steve　thumbed　the　lock　button。　Ghost　was　ranting　at　him。　〃Hurry；　hurry；　let's　get　the　hell　out　of　here　before　they　stomp　both　our　asses…〃
　　The　engine　started　on　the　first　try。　Steve　gunned　the　car　across　the　parking　lot　and　had　the　satisfaction　of　seeing　Willy　and　Charlie　scrabble　out　of　his　way　like　crabs　in　boiling　water。　He　thought　he　might　have　clipped　one　of　them；　hoped　so。　Then　the　gas　station　was　dwindling　in　the　red　glow　of　the　taillights。　He　glanced　at　Ghost；　who　was　sprawled　backward　in　his　seat；　half…grinning。　He　thought　he　could　see　Ghost's　heart　pounding　through　the　thin　cloth　of　his　T…shirt。　〃You　just　saved　my　ass；〃　Steve　told　him。　It　was　a　rare　moment　of　awkwardness　between　them。　〃I　owe　you　one。〃
　　〃Wait　till　we　get　to　New　Orleans；〃　Ghost　said。　〃You　can　buy　me　a　bottle　of　Night　Train。〃　His　hand　crept　across　the　seat；　found　Steve's　hand　and　held　it　tight。　Steve　thought　he　could　feel　a　message　flowing　into　him　through　Ghost's　warm　fingers：　You　get　yourself　killed；　Steve；　and　that's　it。　That's　the　end　of　the　game　for　me　too。　I　know　you're　bummed　out　and　you　think　I'm　the　only　person　in　the　world　yon　can　trust；　but　I　need　you　too。　So　you　better　keep　your　ass　safe。　I　need　you　too。
　　
　　Sometime　closer　to　dawn…but　not　too　close；　not　dangerously　so…a　battered　silver　car　drove　along　the　same　road　that　Steve　and　Ghost　had　left　behind　an　hour　ago。　A　Bel　Air。　Zillah　hadn't　wanted　to　wait　for　Christian　to　gas　up　his　car　and　give　Kinsey　Hummingbird　his　notice；　so　they　had　all　arranged　to　meet　in　the　French　Quarter　the　following　night。
　　Christian　had　forgotten　to　turn　his　headlights　on。　For　him　the　road　was　lit　well　enough　by　moonlight　and　the　faint　glitter　of　the　stars。　And　there　were　no　other　cars　on　the　highway；　not　this　late　at　night。
　　At　least　there　had　been　none。　But　as　he　rounded　a　sharp　curve；　a　pickup　truck　screeched　out　of　a　side　road　onto　the　highway　behind　him。　Its　headlights　burned　a　blinding　bar　into　his　rearview　mirror。　Its　horn　blared　as　the　driver　saw　Christian's　car　too　late；　and　braked　too　hard。　Then　the　pickup　was　skidding　off　the　road；　smashing　down　a　short　embankment；　rolling　over　and　over。　At　last　the　truck　came　to　rest　against　the　trunk　of　a　massive　pine。　The　windshield　was　cracked；　blood…smeared。
　　Christian　pulled　off　the　road　and　left　his　car。　He　picked　his　way　carefully　down　the　embankment。　The　passengers　in　the　pickup　were　dead；　or　nearly　so；　he　could　smell　that。　There　was　no　oily　tang　of　gasoline；　no　smell　of　heat；　the　truck　would　not　catch　fire。　There　was　only　the　heavy　scent　of　blood；　rich　and　laced　with　alcohol。
　　Christian　knew　the　accident　had　been　his　fault。　After　all；　he　had　left　his　lights　off。　But　he　had　not　meant　to。　And　the　truck　had　been　going　much　too　fast。
　　And　he　was　hungry。
　　The　truck's　passenger　must　have　died　instantly。　His　features　were　smeared　across　his　face　in　a　blur　of　bleed　and　bone　studded　with　broken　glass。　The　driver　was　still　alive。　His　body　lay　twisted　across　the　seat；　his　scrawny　legs　pinned　somewhere　beneath　the　dashboard；　but　he　was　conscious。　Blood　soaked　from　under　his　mesh　cap；　beaded　his　colorless　hair。　The　driver　moaned　when　he　saw　Christian；　and　when　Christian　bent　to　the　passenger's　torn　throat；　he　tried　to　scream。　But　he　could　not　open　his　mouth。　His　chin　had　struck　the　steering　wheel　with　crushing　force；　and　his　jawbones　ground　together；　pulverized。
　　As　Christian　lapped　the　dying…blood　off　Charlie's　lips　and　chin　and　throat；　Willy　could　only　watch。
　　
　　　Chapter　25
　　
　　Everybody　else　had　a　car　to　drive；　or　a　bunch　of　loud　panions；　or　at　least；　like　Christian；　a　radio　to　play　all　night；　brave　rock　and　roll　occasionally　exploding　into　bursts　of　static；　whispering　in　voices　that　almost　formed　words。
　　Ann's　decrepit　Datsun　would　never　make　it　all　the　way　to　New　Orleans；　she　had　no　car；　no　panion；　and　she　had　sold　her　Walkman　to　another　girl　at　work　so　she　could　see　R。E。M。　play　at　Duke　University　last　month。　She　couldn't　even　listen　to　her　Cocteau　Twins　tapes　on　her　way　to　meet　her　love。
　　By　the　time　she　got　home　that　night；　she　knew　she　was　going　to　New　Orleans。　It　had　been　easy　enough　to　stand　there　in　the　trailer　yard　talking　to　the　tall　bartender；　telling　him　she　would　follow　Zillah　anywhere。　But　when　it　came　right　down　to　going…well；　that　had　to　be　thought　out　for　a　while。
　　At　work；　waiting　tables　in　the　Spanish　restaurant　whose　gold　flocked　wallpaper　and　red　pile　carpet　passed　for　elegance　in　the　North　Carolina　slicks；　she　thought　it　out。　By　the　time　she　left；　she　was　able　to　phrase　a　note　to　the　kitchen　manager　explaining　that　there　was　a　sudden　illness　in　her　family　and　could　the　balance　of　her　pay　please　be　forwarded　to　Ann　Bransby…Smith；　General　Delivery；　New　Orleans；　Louisiana：　She　didn't　really　expect　to　see　that　money。　Maybe　when　Zillah　saw　how　she　truly　loved　him；　he　would　provide　for　her；　the　purple　silk　lining　of　his　coat　spoke　of　wealth。
　　She　had　thought　it　out　carefully；　but　she　was　still　scared　by　her　decision。　Leave　Missing　Mile？　She　had　never　done　that；　not　even　to　go　to　college。　After　high　school　graduation　she　hadn't　applied　to　any　schools；　telling　herself　she　was　taking　a　year　off　to　concentrate　on　painting。　Steve　and　Ghost　were　going　to　State。　If　they　thought　college　was　worth　anything；　then　she　might　go。　But　the　year　turned　into　two。　Steve　and　Ghost　got　disillusioned　and　came　back　home；　fell　back　into　their　dream　of　being　rock　stars。
　　She　couldn't　talk　to　Steve　now；　didn't　think　she　ever　would　again。　But　there　was　still　Eliot；　only　ten　miles　down　the　highway；　who　knew　nothing　about　her　night　with　Zillah　outside　the　Sacred　Yew。　She　could　see　him　any　day　after　work。　She　admitted　to　herself　that　she　hadn't　wanted　to　see　him　much　lately。　He　wouldn't　smoke　pot　and　was　a　little　shocked　that　she　did。　He　even　wanted　her　to　quit　smoking　her　unfiltered　Camels：　〃Can't　you　at　least　swi