thedestroyer.deathcheck-第13部分

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　〃What？〃
　〃I　like　being　called　names　by　shitfaces　like　you。　Because　it　justifies　all　the　painful　things　I'm　going　to　do　to　you。　And　these　turds　that　hover　around　you；　like　flies　around　a　pig's　ass。〃
　Ratchett　clutched　in　awesome　excitement　at　his　organ。
　〃I　don't　want　to　have　to　look　at　your　ugly　pimpled　face　anymore　or　hear　that　belching　that　you　call　words。　Now　step　forward；　shit。　Step　forward　one　inch；　and　I'm　going　to　fix　you　so　that　you'll　never　walk　again　without　the　pain　reminding　you　of　me。　e　on。　Just　one　inch。〃
　The　leader　laughed。　But　his　followers　didn't。　They　waited；　and　their　silence　shouted　at　him；　and　accused　him；　and　finally；　in　frustration；　he　stepped　forward；　just　one　inch；　and　then　he　moved　himself　into　something　very　fast　that　seemed　to　plunge　a　knife　into　his　kneecap；　and　then　there　was　a　wrench；　and　then　the　sky；　and　then　that　awful　tearing；　and　he　was　staring　at　the　sky　and　it　became　dark；　then　black；　then　nothing。
　Remo　worked　the　others　rather　lightly。　The　right　hand　fingernails　took　care　of　an　eyeball　each　on　chain　and　knife　at　the　right　end　of　the　line。
　The　elbow　took　care　of　chain　at　the　left；　and　Remo　was　pleased　when　it　neatly　smashed　the　nose　like　a　dried　cracker；　without　slipping　off　toward　the　potentially…fatal　upper　lip。　The　edge　of　his　left　hand　cracked　like　a　baseball　bat　against　the　forehead　of　lug　wrench；　second　from　the　left；　and　he　dropped　in　a　heap。
　This　wouldn't　do。　Five　of　them　were　down；　and　Remo　still　hadn't　moved　from　the　spot。　All　that　was　left　was　knife　and　chain　in　the　middle。
　If　Remo　had　raised　his　arms　and　shouted　〃boo；〃　they　would　have　fun。　But　Remo　needed　them。　He　didn't　want　it　to　look　too　easy。　He　backed　up　a　step；　encouraging　knife　and　chain　to　charge。　He　moved　around　between　the　two　of　them；　lunging；　blocking；　making　it　all　look…very　hard；　and　then　suddenly　he　didn't　give　a　shit　who　was　watching；　and　he　busted　an　ear　drum　on　each　one　of　them。
　So　there　they　were；　seven　of　them　groaning　on　the　gravel。　Ratchett　spent；　Brewster；　who　had　e　to　the　door；　on　the　verge　of　a　scream　of　gratitude；　and　Remo　holding　his　head。　Remo　was　holding　his　head　because　he　had　collected　some　blood　from　one　of　the　seven　and　he　put　it　on　his　head　to　show　a　wound。　Then；　still　bent　over；　he　forced　his　mind　onto　his　blood　vessels…out；　in；　circulation…very　strong　thoughts　of　fire；　oppression；　sweltering　sun　taking　his　fluids；　and　was　finally　able　to　work　up　a　sweat。
　〃I　love　you。　I　love　you；〃　yelled　Ratchett。　Then　he　ran　inside；　presumably；　Remo　thought；　to　change　his　pants。
　〃That　ode's　still　bovid；〃　Brewster　called　through　his　broken　nose。　〃Kick　hib　or　sobthid。〃
　〃You　kick　him；〃　Remo　said。
　〃I　deed　a　doctor；〃　Brewster　said　and　vanished　indoors。
　With　the　exception　of　their　leader　whose　knee　cap　had　turned　suddenly　to　jelly；　the　cyclists　were　capable　of　driving　away。　They　carried　Mr。　Six…Foot…Six。
　Then　something　very　surprising　happened。　The　staff　of　Brewster　Forum…the　faces　in　the　pictures；　the　new　intellectuals…crowded　around　Remo　like　school　children；　congratulating　him。　There　was　Ferrante。　And　Schulter。　There　was　even　the　forum's　chess　instructor；　who　said　something　about　〃a　game　some　time。〃
　But　Remo　wasn't　paying　attention。　He　was　looking　for　one　who　wasn't　there；　the　black…haired　beauty　who　had　vanished　into　the　last　cottage　as　soon　as　the　fight　ended。
　
　CHAPTER　ELEVEN
　
　It　was　noon；　and　as　he　did　every　day；　Remo　checked　Dial…a…Prayer　in　Chicago。　The　Reverend　Sminstershoop　was　still　in　Psalms。
　Genesis　would　have　begun　a　get…ready　countdown。　Ec…clesiastes　would　have　given　Remo　a　day　to　…finish　his　assignment。　Deuteronomy　meant　all　plans　out　the　window；　wipe　out　the　place　and　split。
　But　Psalms　just　meant　another　day　at　peak　readiness。　Yea；　though　he　walked　through　the　valley　of　death；　he　could　not　relax；　let　the　tension　drain；　recoup　his　powers。　He　feared　only　the　evil　of　diminishing　every　day。　Already；　if　he　were　to　risk　the　cat　fall；　he　knew　he　would　not　just　make　a　sound；　he　would　probably　get　a　concussion。
　So　he　spoke　a　number　into　the　tape　recording。　The　number　was　of　his　telephone　booth　with　the　area　code　placed　last；　the　traditional　way　of　destroying　as　many　links　as　possible；　even　if　those　links　were　to　your　own　people；　monitoring　ining　phone　calls　for　people　they　did　not　know。
　And　he　hung　up；　not　by　returning　the　receiver；　but　by　leaning　his　phone　arm　down　on　the　cradle。　He　kept　it　there　five　minutes　while　chattering　away　to　no　one。　On　the　first　buzz　before　the　bell　engaged　in　the　first　ring；　Remo　released　the　cradle。
　〃It's　me；〃　he　said；　that　being　enough　identification。　At　one　time　he　had　a　number；　but　he　could　never　remember　it；　and　Smith　finally　told　him　to　forget　it。　〃Look；　I　spoke　with　everyone　but　the　woman　here。　And　I　don't　believe　the　pictures。　Were　the　photos　possibly　phonys？〃
　〃No。　We　got　the　original　negatives。　We　matched　the　grains　right　from　the　beginning。　Why　do　you　ask？〃
　〃I　just　wanted　to　be　helpful。〃
　〃Don't　be　helpful。　The　photos　aren't　your　primary　purpose　there。　Have　you　arranged　for。。。　for　whatever　might　be　necessary？〃　Even　on　a　scrambled　phone　that　could　not　be　tapped；　Smith　was　cautious。
　〃That's　all　done；〃　Remo　said。　〃This　is　a　togetherness　joint。　Every　night；　all　the　boys　gather　around　the　recreation　room。　Give　me　five　minutes　and　I　can　rig　the　air…conditioning　to　do　the　job。〃
　〃How　about　individuals？〃
　〃No　problem　there；　either。　I　can　talk　them　all　to　death。〃
　〃Is　that　supposed　to　be　funny？　What　the　hell　is　the　matter　with　you。　You're　getting。。。　unstable。〃
　Remo　knew　that　was　the　second　worst　word　in　Smith's　vocabulary。　Worst　was　〃inpetent。〃
　〃I　want　to　go　off　peak。〃
　〃No。〃
　〃Why　not？〃
　〃Because　you're　on　a　job。〃
　〃I'm　losing　my　edge。〃
　〃Don't　give　me　that　gymnasium　talk。　Edge　this；　peak　that。　Just　stay　in　shape。〃
　〃I'm　slipping。〃
　〃You'll　do。〃
　〃I'm　going　slowly　crazy。〃
　〃You　always　were。〃
　〃I　think　I'm　getting　inpetent。〃
　〃Would　one　day　help？〃
　〃Yes。〃
　〃One　day　might　be　all　right。　Yes。　Take　it　if　you　need　it。　But　don't　make　it　a　big　day。　We　don't　know　what　the　sister　agencies　might　e　up　with；　and　when　you　might　have　to　move。〃
　〃Okay。〃　Remo　changed　the　subject　before　Smith　had　a　chance　to　change　his　mind。　〃Did　you　get　the　package　I　sent　you？　The　wallets？〃
　〃Yes。　We're　working　on　them；　but　they're　difficult　to　trace。　By　the　way。。。…。〃
　〃No　more　'by　the　ways'。〃
　〃By　the　way；〃　Smith　persisted。　〃Have　you　found　out　what　they　do　there？　I　mean。。。　their　little　plan？〃
　〃You　wouldn't　understand　it　if　I　told　you；〃　Remo　said；　hanging　up。　He　was　already　halfway　toward　being　an　intellectual；　the　main　ingredient　being　to　have　someone　around　to　be　a　non…intellectual。
　Maybe　that's　what　the　forum　was　all　about。　An　elaborate　hustle。　Remo　didn't　believe　that　any　of　the　scientists　at　Brewster　Forum；　up　to　and　including　its　founder；　could　have　produced　a　plan　to　conquer　a　phone　booth。　Not　one　of　the　scientists　had　given　even　a　hint　of　doing　any　kind　of　work　the　government　might　possibly　think　was　important。　And　Remo　had　talked　to　all　of　them；　except　for　the　dark…haired　beauty；　Dr。　Deborah　Hirshbloom。
　Strangely　enough；　he　already　liked　them。　Very　smart；　Remo。　Now　all　you　have　to　do　is　to　fall　in　love　with　Dr。　Deborah　Hirshbloom。　That　would　really　be　smart。
　Perhaps　if　he　had　been　trained　to　work　up　a　hate。　Professional　football　players　do　it。　Why　not　him？　Because；　sweetheart；　you　were　taught　to　work　up　a　nothing。　Start　hating　and　that's　the　next　best　thing　to　loving　for　making　you　inpetent。　Shit；　next　thing　you　know；　you'll　be　a　human　being。　And　then　look　where　all　that　wonderful　money　would　go。　Down　the　drain。　All　that　money　that　was　spent　to　make　you　the　wonderful　nothing　you　are。　A　man　who　can　hold　his　arm　extended；　absolutely　motionless；　not　one　shake；　for　fifty…three　minutes。　Let's　hear　it　for　the　geniuses　who　run　this　country。　Let's　hear　it　for　CURE。　Hush。　Hush。　Hush。
　Staying　at　peak　does　wonders　for　the　mental　processes。　Yes；　Remo；　talk　to　yourself。　Let's　hear　it　for　CURE。　Hush。　Hush。　Hush。
　You've　heard　of　the　right　hand　not　knowing　what　the　left　is　doing。　Well；　our　cuticles　don't　know　what　our　knuckles　are　doing。　Let's　hear　it　for　CURE。　Hush。　Hush。　Hush