ib.thewaspfactory-第8部分

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nned。　The　rest　went　off　quickly；　the　puff　of　smoke　from　the　charge　around　the　mouth　of　each　bomb　bursting　out　of　the　fuming　earth　just　before　the　main　charge　went　off。　Scattering　earth　was　blasted　out　into　the　Rabbit　Grounds；　and　the　thudding　noises　rolled　through　the　air。　I　smiled　at　that。　There　was　very　little　noise　really。　You　wouldn't　have　been　able　to　hear　a　thing　back　at　the　house。　Almost　all　the　energy　from　the　bombs　had　gone　into　blowing　the　earth　out　and　the　air　in　the　burrows　back。
　　
　　The　first　dazed　rabbits　came　out；　two　of　them　bleeding　at　the　nose；　looking　otherwise　unharmed　but　staggering；　almost　falling。　I　squeezed　the　plastic　bottle　and　sent　a　jet　of　petrol　out　of　it；　over　the　wick　of　the　lighter；　held　a　few　centimetres　out　from　the　nozzle　by　an　aluminium　tent…peg。　The　petrol　burst　into　flame　as　it　flew　over　the　wick　in　the　tiny　steel　cup；　roared　through　the　air　and　fell　brightly　on　and　around　the　two　rabbits。　They　took　flame　and　blazed；　running　and　stumbling　and　falling。　I　looked　round　for　more　as　the　first　two　flamed　near　the　centre　of　the　Grounds；　finally　collapsing　into　the　grass；　stiff…limbed　but　twitching；　crackling　to　the　breeze。　A　tiny　lick　of　flame　flickered　round　the　mouth　of　the　'thrower；　I　blew　it　out。　Another；　smaller　rabbit　appeared。　I　caught　it　with　the　jet　of　flame　and　it　zipped　off　out　of　range；　heading　for　the　water　by　the　side　of　the　hill　the　savage　buck　had　attacked　me　on。　I　dug　into　the　War　Bag；　drew　out　the　air…pistol；　cocked　it　and　fired　in　one　movement。　The　shot　missed　and　the　rabbit　trailed　a　thread　of　smoke　round　the　hill。
　　
　　I　got　another　three　rabbits　with　the　'thrower　before　I　packed　it　in。　The　last　thing　I　did　was　to　fire　the　blazing　stream　of　petrol　at　the　buck　still　sitting　stuffed　and　dead　and　oozing　blood　in　the　forefront　of　the　Grounds。　The　fire　dropped　all　round　it　so　that　it　disappeared　in　the　rolling　orange　and　curling　black。　In　a　few　seconds　the　fuse　caught；　and　after　about　ten　seconds　the　mass　of　flame　blew　up　and　out；　throwing　something　black　and　smoking　twenty　metres　or　more　into　the　late…afternoon　air　and　scattering　pieces　all　over　the　Grounds。　The　explosion；　much　bigger　than　the　ones　in　the　holes；　and　with　almost　nothing　to　muffle　it；　cracked　across　the　dunes　like　a　whip；　setting　my　ears　ringing　and　making　even　me　jump　a　bit。
　　
　　Whatever　was　left　of　the　buck　landed　way　behind　me。　I　followed　the　smell　of　burning　to　where　it　lay。　It　was　mostly　the　head；　and　a　grubby　stub　of　spine　and　ribs；　and　about　half　the　skin。　I　gritted　my　teeth　and　picked　the　warm　remnant　up；　took　it　back　to　the　Grounds　and　flung　it　into　them　from　the　top　of　the　bank。
　　
　　I　stood　in　the　slanting　sunlight；　warm　and　yellow　around　me；　the　stench　of　burning　flesh　and　grass　on　the　wind；　the　smoke　rising　into　the　air　from　burrows　and　cadavers；　grey　and　black；　the　sweet　smell　of　leaking　unburned　petrol　ing　from　the　Flame…thrower　where　I'd　left　it；　and　I　breathed　deeply。
　　
　　With　the　last　of　the　petrol　I　covered　the　body　of　the　catapult　and　the　used…up　bottle　of　the　'thrower　where　they　lay　on　the　sand　and　set　fire　to　them。　I　sat　cross…legged　just　by　the　blaze；　staring　into　it　from　up…wind　until　it　was　out　and　only　the　metal　of　the　Black　Destroyer　remained；　then　I　took　the　sooty　skeleton　and　buried　it　where　it　had　been　ruined；　at　the　bottom　of　the　hill。　It　would　have　a　name　now：　Black　Destroyer　Hill。
　　
　　The　fire　was　out　everywhere；　the　grass　too　young　and　moist　to　catch。　Not　that　I'd　have　cared　if　it　had　gone　up。　I　considered　setting　the　whin　bushes　alight；　but　the　flowers　always　looked　cheerful　when　they　came　out；　and　the　bushes　smelled　better　fresh　than　burned；　so　I　didn't。　I　decided　I'd　caused　enough　mayhem　for　one　day。　The　catapult　was　avenged；　the　buck…or　what　it　meant；　its　spirit　maybe…soiled　and　degraded；　taught　a　hard　lesson；　and　I　felt　good。　If　the　rifle　was　all　right　and　hadn't　got　sand　inside　the　sights　or　anywhere　else　awkward　to　clean；　it　would　almost　have　been　worth　it。　The　Defence　budget　would　stand　buying　another　catapult　tomorrow；　my　crossbow　would　just　have　to　wait　another　week　or　so。
　　
　　With　that　lovely　sated　feeling　inside　me；　I　packed　the　War　Bag　and　went　wearily　home；　thinking　what　had　happened　over　in　my　mind；　trying　to　figure　out　the　whys　and　wherefores；　see　what　lessons　were　to　be　learned；　what　signs　to　be　read　in　it　all。
　　
　　On　the　way　I　passed　the　rabbit　I　thought　had　escaped；　lying　just　before　the　sparkling　clean　water　of　the　stream；　blackened　and　contorted；　locked　into　a　weird；　twisted　crouch；　its　dead　dry　eyes　staring　up　at　me　as　I　passed　by；　accusatory。
　　
　　I　kicked　it　into　the　water。
　　
　　My　other　dead　uncle　was　called　Harmsworth　Stove；　a　half…uncle　from　Eric's　mother's　side　of　the　family。　He　was　a　businessman　in　Belfast；　and　he　and　his　wife　looked　after　Eric　for　nearly　five　years；　when　my　brother　was　a　toddler。　Harmsworth　mitted　suicide；　eventually；　with　an　electric　power…drill　and　a　quarter…inch　bit。　He　inserted　it　through　the　side　of　his　skull　and；　finding　that　he　was　still　alive　though　in　some　pain；　drove　to　a　nearby　hospital；　where　he　later　died。　Actually；　I　might　just　have　had　a　little　to　do　with　his　death；　as　it　occurred　less　than　a　year　after　the　Stoves　lost　their　only　child；　Esmerelda。　Unknown　to　them…and　to　everybody　else；　for　that　matter…she　was　one　of　my　victims。
　　
　　I　lay　in　bed　that　night；　waiting　for　my　father　to　return；　and　for　the　phone　to　ring；　while　I　thought　about　what　had　happened。
　　
　　Maybe　the　big　buck　was　a　rabbit　from　outside　the　Grounds；　some　wild　beast　e　into　the　warren　from　beyond；　to　terrorise　the　locals　and　make　itself　boss；　only　to　die　in　an　encounter　with　a　superior　being　it　could　have　no　real　prehension　of。
　　
　　Whatever；　it　was　a　Sign。　I　was　sure　of　that。　The　whole　fraught　episode　must　signify　something。　My　automatic　response　might　just　have　had　something　to　do　with　the　fire　that　the　Factory　had　predicted；　but　deep　inside　I　knew　that　that　wasn't　all　there　was　to　it；　and　that　there　was　more　to　e。　The　sign　was　in　the　whole　thing；　not　just　the　unexpected　ferocity　of　the　buck　I'd　killed；　but　also　in　my　furious；　almost　unthinking　response　and　the　fate　of　the　innocent　rabbits　who　took　the　brunt　of　my　wrath。
　　
　　It　also　meant　something　looking　back　as　well　as　forward。　The　first　time　I　murdered　it　was　because　of　rabbits　meeting　a　fiery　death；　and　meeting　that　fiery　death　from　the　nozzle　of　a　Flame…thrower　virtually　identical　to　the　one　I　had　used　to　exact　my　revenge　on　the　warren。　It　was　all　too　much；　all　too　close　and　perfect。　Events　were　shaping　up　faster　and　worse　than　I　could　have　expected。　I　was　in　danger　of　losing　control　of　the　situation。　The　Rabbit　Grounds…that　supposed　happy　hunting…ground…had　shown　it　could　happen。
　　
　　From　the　smaller　to　the　greater；　the　patterns　always　hold　true；　and　the　Factory　has　taught　me　to　watch　out　for　them　and　respect　them。
　　
　　That　was　the　first　time　I　killed；　because　of　what　my　cousin　Blyth　Cauldhame　had　done　to　our　rabbits；　Eric's　and　mine。　It　was　Eric　who　first　invented　the　Flame…thrower；　and　it　was　lying　in　what　was　then　the　bicycle…shed　（now　my　shed）　when　our　cousin；　who　had　e　to　spend　the　weekend　with　us　along　with　his　parents；　decided　it　would　be　fun　to　ride　Eric's　bike　into　the　soft　mud　at　the　south　end　of　the　island。　This　he　duly　did　while　Eric　and　I　were　out　flying　kites。　Then　he　came　back　and　filled　the　Flame…thrower　with　petrol。　He　sat　in　the　back　garden　with　it；　obscured　from　the　windows　of　the　lounge　（where　his　parents　and　our　father　sat）　by　the　washing　blowing　in　the　breeze；　he　lit　the　'thrower　and　sprayed　our　two　hutches　with　flame；　incinerating　all　our　beauties。
　　
　　Eric　in　particular　was　very　upset。　He　cried　like　a　girl。　I　wanted　to　kill　Blyth　there　and　then；　the　hiding　he　got　from　his　father；　my　dad's　brother　James；　was　not　enough　as　far　as　I　was　concerned；　not　for　what　he'd　done　to　Eric；　my　brother。　Eric　was　inconsolable；　desperate　with　grief　because　he　had　made　the　thing　Blyth　had　used　to　destroy　our　beloved　pets。　He　always　was　a　bit　sentimental；　always　the　sensitive　one；　the　bright　one；　until　his　nasty　experience　everybody　was　sure　he　would　go　far。　Anyway；　that　was　the　start　of　t