dk.intensity-第72节

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　She　buckled　into　the　bination　shoulder　and　lap　belt。　She　suspected　that　she　was　going　to　need　it。
　As　she　shifted　into　drive　and　started　forward；　she　became　aware　of　a　sharp　stinging　along　the　right　side　of　her　head；　and　when　she　put　a　hand　to　her　scalp；　she　discovered　that　she　was　bleeding。　The　passing　bumbl*ee　buzz　had　been　a　grazing　bullet；　which　had　burned　a　shallow　furrow　about　three　inches　long　and　a　sixteenth　of　an　inch　deep。　Any　closer；　it　would　have　taken　off　the　side　of　her　skull。　This　also　explained　the　faint　smell　of　burning　that　she'd　briefly　detected：　hot　lead；　a　few　singed　hairs。
　Ariel　was　sitting　up　in　a　sparkling　mantilla　and　shawl　of　gummy　glass。　She　gazed　out　through　the　missing　windshield　toward　Vess；　but　she　was　blank…eyed。
　The　girl's　hands　were　bleeding。　Chyna's　heart　leaped　at　the　sight　of　the　wet　blood；　but　she　realized　that　the　wounds　were　only　tiny　cuts；　nothing　serious。　The　safety　glass　couldn't　cause　mortal　injury；　but　it　was　prickly　enough　to　nick　the　skin。
　When　Chyna　looked　at　Vess　again；　he　was　on　his　hands　and　knees；　two　hundred　feet　away。　Beside　him　lay　a　shotgun。
　She　tramped　on　the　accelerator。　A　hard　clunk　at　the　back　of　the　motor　home。　The　vehicle　shook。　Another　clunk。　Then　a　scraping　noise　arose；　and　a　hellacious　clatterjangle；　but　they　gained　speed。
　Glancing　at　the　side　mirror；　she　saw　showers　of　sparks　as　ragged　steel　scraped　across　blacktop。
　The　damaged　patrol　car　was　behind　her；　nunbling　along　in　her　wake。　She　was　dragging　it。
　Sheriff　Vess's　right　ear　is　badly　abraded；　torn；　and　the　smell　of　his　blood　is　like　January　wind　rushing　across　snowfields　high　on　a　mountain　slope。　A　brassy　ringing　in　both　ears　reminds　him　of　the　bitter　metallic　taste　of　the　spider　in　the　Templeton　house；　and　he　savors　it。
　As　he　gets　to　his　feet；　all　bones　intact；　choking　down　the　interestingly　sour　insistence　of　vomit；　he　picks　up　the　shotgun。　He's　happy　to　see　that　it　seems　to　have　e　through　in　fine　shape。
　The　motor　home　is　angling　toward　him　across　the　two…lane；　about　a　hundred　fifty　feet　away　but　closing　fast；　a　juggernaut。
　Instead　of　running　off　the　road　into　the　woods　and　away　from　the　oning　vehicle；　he　sprints　toward　it　in　a　rightward…leading　loop　that　will　bring　him　alongside　as　it　races　past。　He's　limping…not　because　he　has　injured　his　leg　but　simply　because　he　is　missing　the　heel　on　his　right　boot。
　inle　than　the　lumEven　with　one　boot　heel　too　few；　Vess　is　more　ag　bering　vehicle；　and　the　woman　sees　that　she's　not　going　to　be　able　to　run　him　down。　She　also　sees　the　shotgun；　no　doubt；　and　she　pulls　the　steering　wheel　to　her　right；　away　from　him；　ready　to　settle　for　escape　instead　of　vengeance。
　He　has　no　intention　of　trying　to　blast　her　head　off　through　the　already　shattered　windshield　or　through　the　side　window；　partly　because　he's　beginning　to　be　spooked　by　her　resilience　and　doesn't　think　he'll　be　able　to　do　enough　damage　to　stop　her　as　she　sails　past　like　a　skeet　disk。　Also；　it's　far　easier　to　halt　and　shoot　from　the　hip　than　to　raise　the　gun　and　aim；　and　shooting　from　the　hip　means　shooting　low。
　The　recoil　from　the　first　three　rounds；　fired　as　quickly　as　he　can　work　the　pump　action；　nearly　pounds　the　sheriff　off　his　feet；　but　he　takes　out　the　front　tire　on　the　driver's　side。
　Hardly　six　feet　from　him；　the　motor　home　starts　to　slide。　Snakes　of　rubber　uncoil　into　the　air　from　the　ruined　tire。　As　the　behemoth　streaks　past；　Vess　uses　his　last　two　rounds　to　blow　out　the　rear　tire　on　the　driver's　side。
　Now　Ms。　Chyna　Shepherd；　untouched　and　alive；　has　big　trouble。
　The　steering　wheel　spun　back　and　forth　in　Chyna's　hands；　burning　her　palms　as　she　tried　determinedly　to　hold　on　to　it。
　She　tapped　the　brakes；　and　that　seemed　to　be　the　absolute　wrong　thing　to　do　because　the　vehicle　yawed　dangerously　to　the　left；　but　when　she　let　up　on　the　brakes；　that　also　seemed　to　be　wrong　because　it　yawed　even　more　wildly　to　the　right。　The　trailing　black…and…white　stuttered　against　the　back　bumper；　and　the　motor　home　shuddered　even　as　it　swayed　more　violently　side　to　side；　and　Chyna　knew　that　they　were　going　to　tip　over。
　Half　drunk　on　the　deliciously　plex　smell　of　his　own　blood　and　the　pure…sex　stink　of　the　shotgun　fire；　Sheriff　Vess　tosses　the　2o…gauge　aside　when　the　magazine　is　empty。　With　shining…eyed　glee；　he　watches　as　the　aged　motor　home　rises　inevitably　off　its　starboard　tires；　tilting　along　the　night　highway　on　its　port…side　wheel　rims。　Virtually　all　of　the　rubber　has　shredded　away；　strips　and　chunks　of　it　litter　both　lanes。　Jhe　steel　rims　carve　into　the　blacktop　with　a　grinding　sound　that　reminds　him　of　the　texture　of　crinoline　crisp　with　dried　blood；　which　brings　to　mind　the　taste　of　a　certain　young　lady's　mouth　in　the　very　moment　that　she　died。　Then　the　vehicle　crashes　onto　its　side　hard　enough　for　Vess　to　feel　vibrations　in　the　pavement　beneath　his　feet。　The　flat　boom　echoes　back　and　forth　between　the　road…flanking　trees；　like　the　devil's　own　shotgun　fire。
　Hung　up　on　the　back　of　the　motor　home；　the　black…and…white　is　hauled　onto　its　side　by　the　larger　vehicle。　Then　it　finally　tears　loose；　flips　onto　its　roof；　spins　three　hundred　and　sixty　degrees；　and　es　to　rest　in　the　northbound　lane。
　The　motor　home　is　far　past　the　car；　three　hundred　feet　away　from　the　sheriff　and　still　sliding；　but　it　is　slowing　and　will　soon　stop。
　Everything　is　screwed　up　big　time：　the　mess　scattered　all　over　the　highway；　which　he　will　be　hard…pressed　to　explain；　the　ruination　of　his　plan　to　deal　with　Ariel　in　the　methodical　manner　that　has　kept　him　so　excited　for　the　past　year；　and　the　incriminating　bodies　in　the　bedroom　of　his　motor　home。
　Yet　Sheriff　Vess　has　never　felt　half　as　buoyant　as　he　does　now。　He　is　so　alive；　all　of　his　senses　enhanced　by　the　ferocity　of　the　moment。
　He　feels　giddy；　silly。　He　wants　to　caper　under　the　moon　and　twirl　with　his　arms　out　like　a　child　making　himself　dizzy　with　the　sight　of　spinning　stars。
　But　there　are　two　deaths　to　be　dealt；　a　lovely　young　face　to　be　disfigured；　and　that　is　fun　too。
　He　reaches　to　his　holster　for　his　revolver。　Evidently　it　fell　out　when　he　leaped　from　the　car　and　tumbled　across　the　highway。　He　looks　around　for　it。
　When　the　motor　home　slid　to　a　stop；　Chyna　wasted　no　time　being　astonished　to　be　alive。　Instantly　she　disengaged　her　safety　harness　and　then　the　girl's。
　The　starboard　flank　of　the　tipped…over　motor　home　had　bee　its　ceiling　in　this　new　orientation。　Ariel　clung　to　the　door　handle　up　there　to　avoid　dropping　down　on　top　of　Chyna。　The　port　flank；　where　Chyna　lay；　was　now　essentially　the　floor。　The　window　in　the　driver's　door　at　her　side　provided　a　close…up　view　only　of　blacktop。
　She　struggled　out　of　her　seat；　turned　around；　and　perched　on　the　dashboard　with　her　back　to　the　windshield　and　her　feet　on　the　console　box。　She　leaned　her　right　side　against　the　steering　wheel。
　The　air　was　thick　with　gasoline　fumes。　Breathing　was　difficult。　She　reached　to　Ariel　and　said；　〃e　on；　baby；　out　through　the　windshield；　quickly　now。〃
　When　the　girl　failed　to　look　at　her　but　clung　to　the　door　and　stared　out　the　side　window　at　the　night　sky；　Chyna　took　her　by　the　shoulder　and　pulled。
　〃e　on；　honey；　e　on；　e　on；　e　on；〃　she　urged。　〃It's　damn　stupid　if　we　die　now；　after　getting　this　far。　If　you　die　now；　won't　the　dolls　laugh？　Won't　they　laugh　and　laugb？〃
　Here；　now；　es　Sheriff　Edgler　Vess；　battered　and　bleeding　but　sprightly　in　his　step；　past　the　roof　of　the　motor　home；　which　is　now　essentially　the　vehicle's　port　flank　as　it　lies　half　capsized　on　this　sea　of　blacktop　and　spilled　gasoline。　He　glances　curiously　at　the　broken…out　skylight　but　proceeds　without　hesitation　to　the　front　of　the　vehiclewhere　he　discovers　Chyna　and　Ariel；　naughty　girls；　who　have　just　e　out　through　the　windshield。
　Their　backs　are　to　him；　and　they　are　moving　away；　heading　toward　the　west　side　of　the　highway；　where　a　sheltering　grove　of　pines　stands　not　far　beyond　the　pavement；　surely　hoping　to　scuttle　out　of　sight　before　he　finds　them。　The　woman　is　hobbling；　urging　the　girl　along　with　a　hand　in　the　small　of　her　back。
　Though　the　sheriff　was　unable　to　find　his　revolver；　he　has　the　20gauge；　which　he　holds　in　both　hands　by　the　barrel。　He　es　in　fast　behind　them。　The　woman　hears　the　odd　squish　that　he　makes　limping　on　one　bad　boot　heel　across　the　reeking　wet　pavement；　but　she　doesn't　have　a　chance　to　turn　fully　and　confront　him。　Vess　swings　the　shotgun　like　a　club；　putting　everything　he　has　into　it；　smashing　the　flat　of　the　stock　across　her　shoulder　blades。
　The　woman　is　knocked　off　her　feet；　the　breath　hammered　from　her；　unab4*　to　cry　out。　She　pitches　forward　and　sprawls　facedown　on　the　pavement；　perhaps　unconscious　but　certainly　stunned　immobile。
　Ariel　totters　forward　in　the　direction　that　she　was　headed；　as　though　she　knows　nothing　of　what　happened　to　Chyna；　and　perhaps　she　doesn't。　Maybe　she　is　desperate　for　freedom；　but　more　likely　she　is　stumbling　across　the　blacktop　with　no　more　awareness　than　a　windup　doll。
　The　woman　rolls　onto　her　back；　looking　up　at　him；　not　dazed　but　white　and　wild…eyed　with　rage。
　〃God　fears　me；〃　he　says；　which　are　words　that　can　be　formed　from　the　letters　of　his　name。
　But　the　woman　seems　unimpressed。　Wheezing；　because