dk.coldfire-第64节

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dered　the　possibilities；　the　stranger　and　more　varied　the　possibilities　became。　In　an　infinite　universe；　anything　can　happen；　any　nightmare　can　be　made　flesh。　In　an　infinite　universe；　life　was　therefore　essentially　the　same　as　a　dream。　Contemplation　of　that　under　the　stress　of　a　life…or…death　situation；　was　guaranteed　to　drive　you　bugshit。　
　Lub…dub…DUB；　lub…dub…DUB。　。　。　
　She　could　not　move。　
　She　could　only　wait。　
　The　tripartite　beat　faded　again。　
　Letting　her　breath　out　in　a　rush；　she　backed　up　against　the　wall　beside　the　window；　less　afraid　of　the　limestone　now　than　she　was　of　Jim　Ironheart。　She　wondered　if　it　was　all　right　to　wake　him　when　the　threenote　heartbeat　was　not　audible。　Maybe　The　Enemy　was　only　in　his　dream　…and　therefore　in　him…when　that　triple　thud　could　be　heard。　
　Afraid　to　act　and　afraid　not　to　act；　she　glanced　down　at　the　tablet　in　her　hand。　Some　of　the　pages　had　fallen　shut；　and　she　was　no　longer　looking　at　the　HE　LOVES　YOU　HOLLY/HE　WILL　KILL　YOU　HOLLY　litany。　
　Before　her　eyes；　instead；　was　the　list　of　people　who　had　been　saved　by　Jim；　along　with　The　Friend's　grandiose　explanations　of　their　importance。　
　She　saw　〃Steven　Aimes〃　and　realized　at　once　that　he　was　the　only　one　on　the　list　whose　fate　The　Friend　had　not　vocalized　during　one　or　another　of　their　conversations　last　night。　She　remembered　him　because　he　was　the　only　older　person　on　the　list；　fifty…seven。　She　read　the　words　under　his　name；　and　the　chill　that　had　touched　her　nape　earlier　was　nothing　pared　to　the　spike　of　ice　that　drove　through　it　now　and　pierced　her　spine。　
　Steven　Aimes　had　not　been　saved　because　he　would　father　a　child　who　would　be　a　great　diplomat　or　a　great　artist　or　a　great　healer。　He　had　not　been　saved　because　he　would　make　an　enduring　contribution　to　the　welfare　of　mankind。　The　reason　for　his　salvation　was　expressed　in　just　eleven　words；　the　most　horrifying　eleven　words　that　Holly　had　ever　read　or　hoped　to　read：　BECAUSE　HE　LOOKS　LIKE　MY　FATHER　WHOM　I　FAILED　TO　SAVE。　
　Not　〃like　Jim　's　father〃　which　The　Friend　would　have　said。　Not　〃whom　he　failed　to　save；〃　as　the　alien　would　surely　have　put　it　MY　FATHER。　I　FAILED。　MY。　I。　
　The　infinite　universe　just　kept　expanding；　and　now　an　entirely　new　possibility　presented　itself　to　her；　revealed　in　the　telling　words　about　Steven　Aimes。　No　starship　rested　under　the　pond。　No　alien　had　been　in　hiding　on　the　farm　for　ten　thousand　years；　ten　years；　or　ten　days。　The　Friend　and　The　Enemy　were　real　enough：　they　were　thirds；　not　halves；　of　the　same　personality；　three　in　one　entity；　an　entity　with　enormous　and　wonderful　and　terrifying　powers；　an　entity　both　godlike　and　yet　as　human　as　Holly　was。　Jim　Ironheart。　Who　had　been　shattered　by　tragedy　when　he　was　ten　years　old。　Who　had　painstakingly　put　himself　together　again　with　the　help　of　a　plex　fantasy　about　star…traveling　gods。　Who　was　as　insane　and　dangerous　as　he　was　sane　and　loving。　
　She　did　not　understand　where　he　had　gotten　the　power　that　he　so　obviously　possessed；　or　why　he　was　not　aware　whatsoever　that　the　power　was　within　him　rather　than　ing　from　some　imaginary　alien　presence。　
　The　realization　that　he　was　everything；　that　the　end　and　beginning　of　this　mystery　lay　solely　in　him　and　not　beneath　the　pond；　raised　more　questions　than　it　answered。　She　didn't　understand　how　such　a　thing　could　be　true；　but　she　knew　it　was；　at　last；　the　truth。　Later；　if　she　survived；　she　might　have　the　time　to　seek　a　better　understanding。　
　Lub…dub…DUB；　lub…dub…DUB。　。　。　
　Closer　but　not　close。　
　Holly　held　her　breath；　waiting　for　the　sound　to　get　louder。　
　Lub…dub…DUB；　lub…dub…DUB。　。　。　
　Jim　shifted　in　his　sleep。　He　snorted　softly　and　smacked　his　lips；　just　like　any　ordinary　dreamer。　
　But　he　was　three　personalities　in　one；　and　at　least　two　of　them　possessed　incredible　power；　and　at　least　one　of　them　was　deadly。　And　it　was　ing。　
　Lub…dub…DUB。　。　。　
　Holly　pressed　back　against　the　limestone。　Her　heart　was　pounding　so　hard　that　it　seemed　to　have　hammered　her　throat　half　shut；　she　had　trouble　swallowing。　
　The　tripartite　beat　faded。　
　Silence。　
　She　moved　along　the　curved　wall。　Easy　little　steps。　Sideways。　
　Toward　the　timbered；　ironbound　door。　She　eased　away　from　the　wall　just　far　enough　to　reach　out　and　snare　her　purse　by　its　straps。　
　The　closer　she　gut　to　the　head　of　the　stairs；　the　more　certain　she　became　that　the　door　was　going　to　slam　shut　before　she　reached　it；　that　Jim　was　going　to　sit　up　and　turn　to　her。　His　blue　eyes　would　not　be　beautiful　but　cold；　as　she　had　twice　glimpsed　them；　filled　with　rage　but　cold。　
　She　reached　the　door；　eased　through　it　backward　onto　the　first　step；　not　wanting　to　take　her　eyes　off　Jim。　But　if　she　tried　to　back　down　those　narrow　stairs　without　a　handrail；　she　would　fall；　break　an　arm　or　leg。　
　So　she　turned　away　from　the　high　room　and　hurried　toward　the　bottom　as　quickly　as　she　dared；　as　quietly　as　she　could。　
　Though　the　velvety…gray　morning　light　outlined　the　windows；　the　lower　chamber　was　treacherously　dark。　She　had　no　flashlight；　only　the　extra　edge　of　an　adrenaline　rush。　Unable　to　remember　if　any　rubble　was　stacked　along　the　wall　that　might　set　up　a　clatter　when　she　knocked　it　over；　she　moved　slowly　along　that　limestone　curve；　her　back　to　it；　edging　sideways　again。　
　The　antechamber　archway　was　somewhere　ahead　on　her　right。　When　she　looked　to　her　left；　she　could　barely　see　the　foot　of　the　stairs　down　which　she　had　just　descended。　
　Feeling　the　wall　ahead　of　her　with　her　right　hand；　she　discovered　the　corner。　She　stepped　through　the　archway　and　into　the　antechamber。　
　Though　that　space　had　been　blind…dark　last　night；　it　was　dimly　lit　now　by　the　pale　post…dawn　glow　that　lay　beyond　the　open　outside　door。　
　The　morning　was　overcast。　Pleasantly　cool　for　August。　
　The　pond　was　still　and　gray。　
　Morning　insects　issued　a　thin；　almost　inaudible　background　buzz；　like　faint　static　on　a　radio　with　the　volume　turned　nearly　off　She　hurried　to　the　Ford　and　stealthily　opened　the　door。　
　Another　panic　hit　her　as　she　thought　of　the　keys。　Then　she　felt　them　in　a　pocket　of　her　jeans；　where　she　had　slipped　them　last　night　after　using　the　bathroom　at　the　farmhouse。　One　key　for　the　farmhouse；　one　key　for　his　house　in　Laguna　Niguel；　two　keys　for　the　car；　all　on　a　simple　brass…bead　chain。　
　She　threw　the　purse　and　tablet　into　the　back　seat　and　got　behind　the　wheel；　but　didn't　close　the　door　for　fear　the　sound　would　wake　him。　
　She　was　not　home　free　yet。　He　might　burst　out　of　the　windmill；　The　Enemy　in　charge　of　him；　leap　across　the　short　expanse　of　gravel；　and　drag　her　from　the　car。　
　Her　hands　shook　as　she　fumbled　with　the　keys。　She　had　trouble　inserting　the　right　one　in　the　ignition。　But　then　she　got　it　in；　twisted　it；　put　her　foot　on　the　accelerator；　and　almost　sobbed　with　relief　when　the　engine　turned　over　with　a　roar。　
　She　yanked　the　door　shut；　threw　the　Ford　in　reverse；　and　backed　along　the　gravel　path　that　circled　the　pond。　The　wheels　spun　up　a　hail　of　gravel；　which　rattled　against　the　back　of　the　car　as　she　reversed　into　it。　
　When　she　reached　the　area　between　the　barn　and　the　house；　where　she　could　turn　around　and　head　out　of　the　driveway　front…first；　she　jammed　on　the　brakes　instead。　She　stared　at　the　windmill；　which　was　now　on　the　far　side　of　the　water。　
　She　had　nowhere　to　run。　Wherever　she　went；　he　would　find　her。　He　could　see　the　future；　at　least　to　some　extent；　if　not　as　vividly　or　in　as　much　detail　as　The　Friend　had　claimed。　He　could　transform　drywall　into　a　monstrous　living　organism；　change　limestone　into　a　transparent　substance　filled　with　whirling　light；　project　a　beast　of　hideous　design　into　her　dreams　and　into　the　doorway　of　her　motel；　track　her；　find　her；　trap　her。　
　He　had　drawn　her　into　his　mad　fantasy　and　most　likely　still　wanted　her　to　play　out　her　role　in　it。　The　Friend　in　Jim…and　Jim　himself　might　let　her　go。　But　the　third　personality…the　murderous　part　of　him；　The　Enemy…would　want　her　blood。　Maybe　she　would　be　fortunate；　and　maybe　the　two　benign　thirds　of　him　would　prevent　the　other　third　from　taking　control　and　ing　after　her。　But　she　doubted　it。　Besides；　she　could　not　spend　the　rest　of　her　life　waiting　for　a　wall　to　bulge　outward　unexpectedly；　form　into　a　mouth；　and　bite　her　hand　off　And　there　was　one　other　problem。　
　She　could　not　abandon　him。　He　needed　her。　
　Part　THREE　From　childhood　s　hour　I　have　not　been　As　others　were　I　have　not　seen　As　others　saw。　
　Alone；　F；Edgar　ALLAN　POE　Vzbratzons　in　a　wzre。　
　Ice　crystals　in　a　beatzng　heart。　
　Cold　fire。　
　A　mind　s　frzgzdzty：　frozen　steel；　dark　rage　morbzdity。　
　Cold　fire　Defense　against　a　cruel　life　death　and　strzfe：　Cold　fire。　
　…that。　HOOK　OF　counted　SOHROWS　
　THE　REST　OF　AUGUST　29
　
　Holly　sat　in　the　Ford；　staring　at　the　old　windmill；　scared　and　exhilarated。　
　The　exhilaration　surprised　her。　Maybe　she　felt　upbeat　because　for　the　first　time　in　her　life　she　had　found　something　to　which　she　was　willing　to　mit　herself　Not　a　casual　mitment；　either。　Not　an　until…I…get…bored　mitment。　She　was　willing　to　put　her　life　on　the　line　for　this；　for　Jim　and　what　he　could　bee　if　he　could　be　healed；　for　what　they　could　bee　together。　
　Even　if　he　had　told　her　she　could　go；　and　even　if　she　had