sk.thetalisman-第97节

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cinematic　touch…fiery　alert　bebop；　at　a　volume　so　low　Jack　could　just　pick　out　that　the　lead　instruments　were　a　trumpet　and　an　alto　saxophone。　Richard；　Jack　drowsily　thought；　tomorrow　I　should　be　seeing　Richard　Sloat；　and　fell　down　the　slope　of　the　rhythm　into　brimming　unconsciousness。
　　Wolf　was　trotting　toward　him　across　a　blasted；　smoking　landscape。　Strings　of　barbed　wire；　now　and　then　coiling　up　into　fantastic　and　careless　barbed…wire　intricacies；　separated　them。　Deep　trenches；　too；　divided　the　spoiled　land；　one　of　which　Wolf　vaulted　easily　before　nearly　tumbling　into　one　of　the　ranks　of　wire。
　　…Watch　out；　Jack　called。
　　Wolf　caught　himself　before　falling　into　the　triple　strands　of　wire。　He　waved　one　big　paw　to　show　Jack　that　he　was　unhurt；　and　then　cautiously　stepped　over　the　wires。
　　Jack　felt　an　amazing　surge　of　happiness　and　relief　pass　through　him。　Wolf　had　not　died；　Wolf　would　join　him　again。
　　Wolf　made　it　over　the　barbed　wire　and　began　trotting　forward　again。　The　land　between　Jack　and　Wolf　seemed　mysteriously　to　double　in　length…gray　smoke　hanging　over　the　many　trenches　almost　obscured　the　big　shaggy　figure　ing　forward。
　　…Jason！　Wolf　shouted。　Jason！　Jason！
　　…I'm　still　here；　Jack　shouted　back。
　　…Can't　make　it；　Jason！　Wolf　can't　make　it！
　　…Keep　trying；　Jack　bawled。　Damn　it；　don't　give　up！
　　Wolf　paused　before　an　impenetrable　tangle　of　wire；　and　through　the　smoke　Jack　saw　him　slip　down　to　all　fours　and　trot　back　and　forth；　nosing　for　an　open　place。　From　side　to　side　Wolf　trotted；　each　time　going　out　a　greater　distance；　with　every　second　being　more　evidently　disturbed。　Finally　Wolf　stood　up　again　and　placed　his　hands　on　the　thick　tangle　of　wire　and　forced　a　space　he　could　shout　through。…Wolf　can't！　Jason；　Wolf　can't！
　　…I　love　you；　Wolf；　Jack　shouted　across　the　smouldering　plain。
　　…JASON！　Wolf　bawled　back。　BE　CAREFUL！　They　are　ING　for　you！　There　are　MORE　of　them！
　　…More　what；　Jack　wanted　to　shout；　but　could　not。　He　knew。
　　Then　either　the　whole　character　of　the　dream　changed　or　another　dream　began。　He　was　back　in　the　ruined　recording　studio　and　office　at　the　Sunlight　Home；　and　the　smells　of　gunpowder　and　burned　flesh　crowded　the　air。　Singer's　mutilated　body　lay　slumped　on　the　floor；　and　Casey's　dead　form　drooped　through　the　shattered　glass　panel。　Jack　sat　on　the　floor　cradling　Wolf　in　his　arms；　and　knew　again　that　Wolf　was　dying。　Only　Wolf　was　not　Wolf。
　　Jack　was　holding　Richard　Sloat's　trembling　body；　and　it　was　Richard　who　was　dying。　Behind　the　lenses　of　his　sensible　black　plastic　eyeglasses；　Richard's　eyes　skittered　aimlessly；　painfully。…Oh　no；　oh　no；　Jack　breathed　out　in　horror。　Richard's　arm　had　been　shattered；　and　his　chest　was　a　pulp　of　ruined　flesh　and　bloodstained　white　shirt。　Fractured　bones　glinted　whitely　here　and　there　like　teeth。
　　…I　don't　want　to　die；　Richard　said；　every　word　a　superhuman　effort。　Jason；　you　should　not　。　。　。　you　should　not　have　。　。　。
　　…You　can't　die；　too；　Jack　pleaded；　not　you；　too。
　　Richard's　upper　body　lurched　against　Jack's　arms；　and　a　long；　liquid　sound　escaped　Richard's　throat；　and　then　Richard　found　Jack's　eyes　with　his　own　suddenly　clear　and　quiet　eyes。…Jason。　The　sound　of　the　name；　which　was　almost　appropriate；　hung　softly　in　the　stinking　air。…You　killed　me；　Richard　breathed　out；　or　you　killed　'e；　since　his　lips　could　not　meet　to　form　one　of　the　letters。　Richard's　eyes　swam　out　of　focus　again；　and　his　body　seemed　to　grow　instantly　heavier　in　Jack's　arms。　There　was　no　longer　life　in　that　body。　Jason　DeLoessian　stared　up　in　shock…
　　　
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　　…and　Jack　Sawyer　snapped　upright　in　the　cold；　unfamiliar　bed　of　a　flophouse　in　Decatur；　Illinois；　and　in　the　yellowish　murk　shed　by　a　streetlamp　outside　saw　his　breath　plume　out　as　luxuriantly　as　if　exhaled　from　two　mouths　at　once。　He　kept　himself　from　screaming　only　by　clasping　his　hands；　his　own　two　hands；　and　squeezing　them　together　hard　enough　to　crack　a　walnut。　Another　enormous　white　feather　of　air　steamed　out　of　his　lungs。
　　Richard。
　　Wolf　running　across　that　dead　world；　calling　out　。　。　。　what？
　　Jason。
　　The　boy's　heart　executed　a　quick；　decided　leap；　with　the　kick　of　a　horse　clearing　a　fence。
　　
　　　CHAPTER　29
　　　Richard　at　Thayer
　　　
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　　At　eleven　o'clock　the　next　morning　an　exhausted　Jack　Sawyer　unshouldered　his　pack　at　the　end　of　a　long　playing　field　covered　with　crisp　brown　dead　grass。　Far　away；　two　men　in　plaid　jackets　and　baseball　caps　labored　with　leaf…blower　and　rake　down　on　the　stretch　of　lawn　surrounding　the　most　distant　group　of　buildings。　To　Jack's　left；　directly　behind　the　red…brick　backside　of　the　Thayer　library；　was　the　faculty　parking　lot。　In　the　front　of　Thayer　School　a　great　gate　opened　onto　a　tree…lined　drive　which　circled　around　a　large　quad　crisscrossed　with　narrow　paths。　If　anything　stood　out　on　the　campus；　it　was　the　library…a　Bauhaus　steamship　of　glass　and　steel　and　brick。
　　Jack　had　already　seen　that　a　secondary　gate　opened　onto　another　access　road　before　the　library。　This　ran　two…thirds　the　length　of　the　school　and　ended　at　the　garbage　Dumpsters　nested　in　the　round　cul…de…sac　just　before　the　land　climbed　up　to　form　the　plateau　of　the　football　field。
　　Jack　began　to　move　across　the　top　of　the　field　toward　the　rear　of　the　classroom　buildings。　When　the　Thayerites　began　to　go　to　dining　hall；　he　could　find　Richard's　room…Entry　5；　Nelson　House。
　　The　dry　winter　grass　crunched　beneath　his　feet。　Jack　pulled　Myles　P。　Kiger's　excellent　coat　tightly　about　him…the　coat　at　least　looked　preppy；　if　Jack　did　not。　He　walked　between　Thayer　Hall　and　an　Upper　School　dormitory　named　Spence　House；　in　the　direction　of　the　quad。　Lazy　preluncheon　voices　came　through　the　Spence　House　windows。
　　　
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　　Jack　glanced　toward　the　quad　and　saw　an　elderly　man；　slightly　stooped　and　of　a　greenish…bronze；　standing　on　a　plinth　the　height　of　a　carpenter's　bench　and　examining　the　cover　of　a　heavy　book。　Elder　Thayer；　Jack　surmised。　He　was　dressed　in　the　stiff　collar；　flowing　tie；　and　frock　coat　of　a　New　England　Transcendentalist。　Elder　Thayer's　brass　head　inclined　over　the　volume；　pointed　generally　in　the　direction　of　the　classroom　buildings。
　　Jack　took　the　right…angle　at　the　end　of　the　path。　Sudden　noise　erupted　from　an　upstairs　window　ahead…boys　shouting　out　the　syllables　of　a　name　that　sounded　like　'Etheridge！　Etheridge！'　Then　an　irruption　of　wordless　screams　and　shouts；　acpanied　by　the　sounds　of　heavy　furniture　moving　across　a　wooden　floor。　'Etheridge！'　
　　Jack　heard　a　door　closing　behind　his　back；　and　looked　over　his　shoulder　to　see　a　tall　boy　with　dirty…blond　hair　rushing　down　the　steps　of　Spence　House。　He　wore　a　tweed　sport　jacket　and　a　tie　and　a　pair　of　L。　L。　Bean　Maine　hunting　shoes。　Only　a　long　yellow…and…blue　scarf　wound　several　times　around　his　neck　protected　him　from　the　cold。　His　long　face　looked　both　haggard　and　arrogant；　and　just　now　was　the　face　of　a　senior　in　a　self…righteous　rage。　Jack　pushed　the　hood　of　the　loden　coat　over　his　head　and　moved　down　the　path。
　　'I　don't　want　anybody　to　move！'　the　tall　boy　shouted　up　at　the　closed　window。　'You　freshmen　just　stay　put！'　
　　Jack　drifted　toward　the　next　building。
　　'You're　moving　the　chairs！'　the　tall　boy　screamed　behind　him。　'I　can　hear　you　doing　it！　STOP！'　Then　Jack　heard　the　furious　senior　call　out　to　him。
　　Jack　turned　around；　his　heart　beating　loudly。
　　'Get　over　to　Nelson　House　right　now；　whoever　you　are；　on　the　double；　post…haste；　immediately。　Or　I'll　go　to　your　house　master。'
　　'Yes　sir；'　Jack　said；　and　quickly　turned　away　to　move　in　the　direction　the　prefect　had　pointed。
　　'You're　at　least　seven　minutes　late！'　Etheridge　screeched　at　him；　and　Jack　was　startled　into　jogging。　'On　the　double；　I　said！'　Jack　turned　the　jog　into　a　run。
　　When　he　started　downhill　（he　hoped　it　was　the　right　way；　it　was；　anyway；　the　direction　in　which　Etheridge　had　seemed　to　be　looking）；　he　saw　a　long　black　car…a　limousine…just　beginning　to　swing　through　the　main　front　gates　and　whisper　up　the　long　drive　to　the　quad。　He　thought　that　maybe　whatever　sat　behind　the　tinted　windows　of　the　limousine　was　nothing　so　ordinary　as　the　parent　of　a　Thayer　School　sophomore。
　　The　long　black　car　eased　forward；　insolently　slow。　
　　No；　Jack　thought；　I'm　spooking　myself。
　　Still　he　could　not　move。　Jack　watched　the　limousine　pull　up　to　the　bottom　of　the　quad　and　stop；　its　motor　running。　A　black　chauffeur　with　the　shoulders　of　a　running　back　got　out　of　the　front　seat　and　opened　the　rear　passenger　door。　An　old　white…haired　man；　a　stranger；　effortfully　got　out　of　the　limousine's　back　seat。　He　wore　a　black　topcoat　which　revealed　an　immaculate　white　shirtfront　and　a　solid　dark　tie。　The　man　nodded　to　his　chauffeur　and　began　to　toil　across　the　quad　in　the　direction　of　the　main　building。　He　never　even　looked　in　Jack's　direction。　The　chauffeur　elaborately　craned　his　neck　and　looked　upward；　as　if　speculating　about　the　possibility　of　snow。　Jack　stepped　backward　and　watched　while　the　old　man　made　it　to　the　steps　of　Thayer　Hall。　The　chauffeur　continued　his　specious　examination　of　the　sky。　Jack　melted　backward　down　the　path　until　the　side　of　the　building　shielded　him；　and　then　he　turne