sk.thetalisman-第106节

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　　Flip；　Jack…O。　You've　got　to　flip　over；　and　you　know　it。　And　you've　got　to　take　Richard　with　you　because　this　place　is　going　to　hell。
　　I　can't。　Flipping　into　the　Territories　would　blow　Richard's　wheels　pletely。
　　Doesn't　matter。　You　have　to　do　it。　It's　the　best　thing；　anyway…maybe　the　only　thing…because　they　won't　be　expecting　it。
　　'Jack？'　Richard　was　sitting　up。　His　face　had　a　strange；　naked　look　without　his　glasses。　'Jack；　is　it　over？　Was　it　a　dream？'　
　　Jack　sat　down　on　the　bed　and　put　an　arm　around　Richard's　shoulders。　'No；'　he　said；　his　voice　low　and　soothing。　'It's　not　over　yet；　Richard。'
　　'I　think　my　fever's　worse；'　Richard　announced；　pulling　away　from　Jack。　He　drifted　over　to　the　window；　one　of　the　bows　of　his　glasses　pinched　delicately　between　the　thumb　and　forefinger　of　his　right　hand。　He　put　his　spectacles　on　and　looked　out。　Shapes　with　glowing　eyes　roamed　back　and　forth。　He　stood　there　for　a　long　time；　and　then　he　did　something　so　un…Richardlike　that　Jack　could　barely　credit　it。　He　took　his　glasses　off　again　and　deliberately　dropped　them。　There　was　a　frigid　little　crunch　as　one　lens　cracked。　Then　he　stepped　deliberately　back　on　them；　shattering　both　lenses　to　powder。
　　He　picked　them　up；　looked　at　them；　and　then　tossed　them　unconcernedly　toward　Albert　the　Blob's　wastebasket。　He　missed　by　a　wide　margin。　There　was　now　something　softly　stubborn　in　Richard's　face；　too…something　that　said　I　don't　want　to　see　any　more；　so　I　won't　see　any　more；　and　I　have　taken　care　of　the　problem。　I　have　Had　Enough；　Forever。
　　'Look　at　that；'　he　said　in　a　flat；　unsurprised　voice。　'I　broke　my　glasses。　I　had　another　pair；　but　I　broke　them　in　gym　two　weeks　ago。　I'm　almost　blind　without　them。'　
　　Jack　knew　this　wasn't　true；　but　he　was　too　flabbergasted　to　say　anything。　He　could　think　of　absolutely　no　appropriate　response　to　the　radical　action　Richard　had　just　taken…it　had　been　too　much　like　a　calculated　last…ditch　stand　against　madness。
　　'I　think　my　fever's　worse　too；'　Richard　said。　'Have　you　got　any　more　of　those　aspirin；　Jack？'　
　　Jack　opened　the　desk　drawer　and　wordlessly　handed　Richard　the　bottle。　Richard　swallowed　six　or　eight　of　them；　then　lay　down　again。
　　　
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　　As　the　night　deepened；　Richard；　who　repeatedly　promised　to　discuss　their　situation；　repeatedly　went　back　on　his　word。　He　couldn't　discuss　leaving；　he　said；　couldn't　discuss　any　of　this；　not　now；　his　fever　had　e　back　and　it　felt　much；　much　worse；　he　thought　it　might　be　as　high　as　a　hundred　and　five；　possibly　a　hundred　and　six。　He　said　he　needed　to　go　back　to　sleep。
　　'Richard；　for　Christ's　sake！'　Jack　roared。　'You're　punking　out　on　me！　Of　all　the　things　I　never　expected　from　you…'
　　'Don't　be　silly；'　Richard　said；　falling　back　onto　Albert's　bed。　'I'm　just　sick；　Jack。　You　can't　expect　me　to　talk　about　all　these　crazy　things　when　I'm　sick。'
　　'Richard；　do　you　want　me　to　go　away　and　leave　you？'
　　Richard　looked　back　over　his　shoulder　at　Jack　for　a　moment；　blinking　slowly。　'You　won't；'　he　said；　and　then　went　back　to　sleep。
　　　
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　　Around　nine　o'clock；　the　campus　entered　another　of　those　mysterious　quiet　periods；　and　Richard；　perhaps　sensing　that　there　would　be　less　strain　put　on　his　tottering　sanity　now；　woke　up　and　swung　his　legs　over　the　bed。　Brown　spots　had　appeared　on　the　walls；　and　he　stared　at　them　until　he　saw　Jack　ing　toward　him。
　　'I　feel　a　lot　better；　Jack；'　he　said　hastily；　'but　it　really　won't　do　us　any　good　to　talk　about　leaving；　it's　dark；　and…'
　　'We　have　to　leave　tonight；'　Jack　said　grimly。　'All　they　have　to　do　is　wait　us　out。　There's　fungus　growing　on　the　walls；　and　don't　tell　me　you　don't　see　that。'　
　　Richard　smiled　with　a　blind　tolerance　that　nearly　drove　Jack　mad。　He　loved　Richard；　but　he　could　cheerfully　have　pounded　him　through　the　nearest　fungus…rotted　wall。
　　At　that　precise　moment；　long；　fat　white　bugs　began　to　squirm　into　Albert　the　Blob's　room。　They　came　pushing　out　of　the　brown　fungoid　spots　on　the　wall　as　if　the　fungus　were　in　some　unknown　way　giving　birth　to　them。　They　twisted　and　writhed　half　in　and　half　out　of　the　soft　brown　spots；　then　plopped　to　the　floor　and　began　squirming　blindly　toward　the　bed。
　　Jack　had　begun　to　wonder　if　Richard's　sight　weren't　really　a　lot　worse　than　he　remembered；　or　if　it　had　degenerated　badly　since　he　had　last　seen　Richard。　Now　he　saw　that　he　had　been　right　the　first　time。　Richard　could　see　quite　well。　He　certainly　wasn't　having　any　trouble　picking　up　the　gelatinous　things　that　were　ing　out　of　the　walls；　anyway。　He　screamed　and　pressed　against　Jack；　his　face　frantic　with　revulsion。
　　'Bugs；　Jack！　Oh；　Jesus！　Bugs！　Bugs！'
　　'We'll　be　all　right…right；　Richard？'　Jack　said。　He　held　Richard　in　place　with　a　strength　he　didn't　know　he　had。　'We'll　just　wait　for　the　morning；　right？　No　problem；　right？'　
　　They　were　squirming　out　in　dozens；　in　hundreds；　plump；　waxy…white　things　like　overgrown　maggots。　Some　burst　open　when　they　struck　the　floor。　The　rest　humped　sluggishly　across　the　floor　toward　them。
　　'Bugs；　Jesus；　we　have　to　get　out；　we　have　to…'
　　'Thank　God；　this　kid　finally　sees　the　light；'　Jack　said。　
　　He　slung　his　knapsack　over　his　left　arm　and　grabbed　Richard's　elbow　in　his　right　hand。　He　hustled　Richard　to　the　door。　White　bugs　squashed　and　splattered　under　their　shoes。　Now　they　were　pouring　out　of　the　brown　patches　in　a　flood；　an　obscene；　ongoing　multiple　birth　that　was　happening　all　over　Albert's　room。　A　stream　of　the　white　bugs　fell　from　a　patch　on　the　ceiling　and　landed；　squirming；　on　Jack's　hair　and　shoulders；　he　brushed　them　away　as　best　he　could　and　hauled　the　screaming；　flailing　Richard　out　the　door。
　　I　think　we're　on　our　way；　Jack　thought。　God　help　us；　I　really　think　we　are。
　　　
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　　They　were　in　the　mon　room　again。　Richard；　it　turned　out；　had　even　less　idea　of　how　to　sneak　off　the　Thayer　campus　than　Jack　did　himself。　Jack　knew　one　thing　very　well：　he　was　not　going　to　trust　that　deceptive　quiet　and　go　out　any　of　Nelson　House's　Entry　doors。
　　Looking　hard　to　the　left　out　of　the　wide　mon…room　window；　Jack　could　see　a　squat　octagonal　brick　building。
　　'What's　that；　Richard？'
　　'Huh？'　Richard　was　looking　at　the　gluey；　sluggish　torrents　of　mud　flowing　over　the　darkening　quad。
　　'Little　squatty　brick　building。　You　can　just　barely　see　it　from　here。'
　　'Oh。　The　Depot。'
　　'What's　a　Depot？'
　　'The　name　itself　doesn't　mean　anything　anymore；'　Richard　said；　still　looking　uneasily　out　at　the　mud…drenched　quad。　'Like　our　infirmary。　It's　called　The　Creamery　because　there　used　to　be　a　real　dairy　barn　and　milk…bottling　plant　over　there。　Until　1910　or　so　there　was；　anyway。　Tradition；　Jack。　It's　very　important。　It's　one　of　the　reason　I　like　Thayer。'　
　　Richard　looked　forlornly　out　at　the　muddy　campus　again。
　　'One　of　the　reasons　I　always　did；　anyway。'
　　'The　Creamery；　okay。　How　e　The　Depot？'
　　Richard　was　slowly　warming　to　the　twin　ideas　of　Thayer　and　Tradition。
　　'This　whole　area　of　Springfield　used　to　be　a　railhead；'　he　said。　'In　fact；　in　the　old　days…'
　　'Which　old　days　are　we　talking　about；　Richard？'
　　'Oh。　The　eighteen…eighties。　Eighteen…nineties。　You　see　。　。　。'　
　　Richard　trailed　off。　His　nearsighted　eyes　began　moving　around　the　mon　room…looking　for　more　bugs；　Jack　supposed。　There　weren't　any　。　。　。　at　least　not　yet。　But　he　could　already　see　a　few　brown　patches　beginning　to　form　on　the　walls。　The　bugs　weren't　here　yet；　but　they　would　be　along。
　　'e　on；　Richard；'　Jack　prompted。　'No　one　used　to　have　to　prime　you　to　get　you　to　run　your　mouth。'　
　　Richard　smiled　a　little。　His　eyes　returned　to　Jack。　'Spring…field　was　one　of　the　three　or　four　biggest　American　railheads　during　the　last　two　decades　of　the　nineteenth　century。　It　was　geographically　handy　to　all　the　points　of　the　pass。'　He　raised　his　right　hand　toward　his　face；　forefinger　extended　to　push　his　glasses　up　on　his　nose　in　a　scholarly　gesture；　realized　they　were　no　longer　there；　and　lowered　the　hand　again；　looking　a　bit　embarrassed。　'There　were　main　rail　routes　leaving　Springfield　for　everywhere。　This　school　exists　because　An…drew　Thayer　saw　the　possibilities。　He　made　a　fortune　in　rail　shippage。　Mostly　to　the　west　coast。　He　was　the　first　one　to　see　the　potential　in　shipping　west　as　well　as　east。'　
　　A　bright　light　suddenly　went　on　in　Jack's　head；　bathing　all　of　his　thoughts　in　its　harsh　glare。
　　'West　coast？'　His　stomach　lurched。　He　could　not　yet　identify　the　new　shape　that　bright　light　had　shown　him；　but　the　word　that　leaped　into　his　mind　was　fiery　and　utterly　clear！
　　Talisman！
　　'West　coast；　did　you　say？'
　　'Of　course　I　did。'　Richard　looked　at　Jack　strangely。　'Jack；　are　you　going　deaf？'
　　'No；'　Jack　said。　Springfield　was　one　of　the　three　or　four　biggest　American　railheads　。　。　。　'No；　I'm　fine。'　He　was　the　first　one　to　see　the　potential　in　shipping　west　。　。　。
　　'Well；　you　looked　damn　funny　for　a　minute。'
　　He　was；　you　might　say；　the　first　one　to　see　the　potential　of　shipping　stuff　by　rail　to　the　Outposts。
　　Jack　knew；　utterly　knew；　that　Springfield　was　still　a　pressure　point　of　some　kind；　perhaps　still　a　shipping　point。　That　was；　perhaps；　why　Morgan's　magic　worked　so　well　here。
　　'The