sk.theshining-第89节

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　　She　was　on　the　ninth；　almost　halfway　up；　when　Jack's　voice　came　from　behind　and　below　her。　He　said　thickly：　〃You　bitch。　You　killed　me。〃　Terror　as　black　as　midnight　swept　through　her。　She　looked　over　her　shoulder　and　saw　Jack　getting　slowly　to　his　feet。
　　His　back　was　bowed　over；　and　she　could　see　the　handle　of　the　kitchen　knife　sticking　out　of　it。　His　eyes　seemed　to　have　contracted；　almost　to　have　lost　themselves　in　the　pale；　sagging　folds　of　the　skin　around　them。　He　was　grasping　the　roque　mallet　loosely　in　his　left　hand。　The　end　of　it　was　bloody。　A　scrap　of　her　pink　terrycloth　robe　stuck　almost　in　the　center。
　　〃I'll　give　you　your　medicine；〃　he　whispered；　and　began　to　stagger　toward　the　stairs。
　　Whimpering　with　fear；　she　began　to　pull　herself　upward　again。　Ten　steps；　a　dozen；　a　baker's　dozen。　But　still　the　first…floor　hallway　looked　as　far　above　her　as　an　unattainable　mountain　peak。　She　was　panting　now；　her　side　shrieking　in　protest。　Her　hair　swung　wildly　back　and　forth　in　front　of　her　face。　Sweat　stung　her　eyes。　The　ticking　of　the　domed　clock　in　the　ballroom　seemed　to　fill　her　cars；　and　counterpointing　it；　Jack's　panting；　agonized　gasps　as　he　began　to　mount　the　stairs。
　　　
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　　HALLORANN　ARRIVES
　　
　　Larry　Durkin　was　a　tall　and　skinny　man　with　a　morose　face　overtopped　with　a　luxuriant　mane　of　red　hair。　Hallorann　had　caught　him　just　as　he　was　leaving　the　Conoco　station；　the　morose　face　buried　deeply　inside　an　army…issue　parka。　He　was　reluctant　to　do　any　more　business　that　stormy　day　no　matter　how　far　Hallorann　had　e；　and　even　more　reluctant　to　rent　one　of　his　two　snowmobiles　out　to　this　wild…eyed　black　man　who　insisted　on　going　up　to　the　old　Overlook。　Among　people　who　had　spent　most　of　their　lives　in　the　little　town　of　Sidewinder；　the　hotel　had　a　smelly　reputation。　Murder　had　been　done　up　there。　A　bunch　of　hoods　had　run　the　place　for　a　while；　and　cutthroat　businessmen　had　run　it　for　a　while；　too。
　　And　things　had　been　done　up　at　the　old　Overlook　that　never　made　the　papers；　because　money　has　a　way　of　talking。　But　the　people　in　Sidewinder　had　a　pretty　good　idea。　Most　of　the　hotel's　chambermaids　came　from　here；　and　chambermaids　see　a　lot。
　　But　when　Hallorann　mentioned　Howard　Cottrell's　name　and　showed　Durkin　the　tag　inside　one　of　the　blue　mittens；　the　gas　station　owner　thawed。
　　〃Sent　you　here；　did　he？〃　Durkin　asked；　unlocking　one　of　the　garage　bays　and　leading　Hallorann　inside。　〃Good　to　know　the　old　rip's　got　some　sense　left。　I　thought　he　was　plumb　out　of　it。〃　He　flicked　a　switch　and　a　bank　of　very　old　and　very　dirty　fluorescents　buzzed　wearily　into　life。　〃Now　what　in　the　tarnal　creation　would　you　want　up　at　that　place；　fella？〃　Hallorann's　nerve　had　begun　to　crack。　The　last　few　miles　into　Sidewinder　had　been　very　bad。　Once　a　gust　of　wind　that　must　have　been　tooling　along　at　better　than　sixty　miles　an　hour　had　floated　the　Buick　all　the　way　around　in　a　360°　turn。　And　there　were　still　miles　to　travel　with　God　alone　knew　what　at　the　other　end　of　them。　He　was　terrified　for　the　boy。　Now　it　was　almost　ten　minutes　to　seven　and　he　had　this　whole　song　and　dance　to　go　through　again。
　　〃Somebody　is　in　trouble　up　there；〃　he　said　very　carefully。　〃The　son　of　the　caretaker。〃
　　〃Who？　Torrance's　boy？　Now　what　kind　of　trouble　could　he　be　in？〃
　　〃I　don't　know；〃　Hallorann　muttered。　He　felt　sick　with　the　time　this　was　taking。　He　was　speaking　with　a　country　man；　and　he　knew　that　all　country　men　feel　a　similar　need　to　approach　their　business　obliquely；　to　smell　around　its　corners　and　sides　before　plunging　into　the　middle　of　dealing。　But　there　was　no　time；　because　now　he　was　one　scared　nigger　and　if　this　went　on　much　longer　he　just　might　decide　to　cut　and　run。
　　〃Look；〃　he　said。　〃Please。　I　need　to　go　up　there　and　I　have　to　have　a　snowmobile　to　get　there。　I'll　pay　your　price；　but　for　God's　sake　let　me　get　on　with　my　business！〃
　　〃All　right；〃　Durkin　said；　unperturbed。　〃If　Howard　sent　you；　that's　good　enough。　You　take　this　ArcticCat。　I'll　put　five　gallons　of　gas　in　the　can。　Tank's　full。　She'll　get　you　up　and　back　down；　I　guess。〃
　　〃Thank　you；〃　Hallorann　said；　not　quite　steadily。
　　〃I'll　take　twenty　dollars。　That　includes　the　ethyl。〃　Hallorann　fumbled　a　twenty　out　of　his　wallet　and　handed　it　over。　Durkin　tucked　it　into　one　of　his　shirt　pockets　with　hardly　a　look。
　　〃Guess　maybe　we　better　trade　jackets；　too；〃　Durkin　said；　pulling　off　his　parka。　〃That　overcoat　of　yours　ain't　gonna　be　worth　nothin　tonight。　You　trade　me　back　when　you　return　the　snowsled。〃
　　〃Oh；　hey；　I　couldn't〃
　　〃Don't　fuss　with　me；〃　Durkin　interrupted；　still　mildly。　〃I　ain't　sending　you　out　to　freeze。　I　only　got　to　walk　down　two　blocks　and　I'm　at　my　own　supper　table。　Give　it　over。〃　Slightly　dazed；　Hallorann　traded　his　overcoat　for　Durkin's　fur…lined　parka。
　　Overhead　the　fluorescents　buzzed　faintly；　reminding　him　of　the　lights　in　the　Overlook's　kitchen。
　　〃Torrance's　boy；〃　Durkin　said；　and　shook　his　head。　〃Good…lookin　little　tyke；　ain't　he？　He　n　his　dad　was　in　here　a　lot　before　the　snow　really　flew。　Drivin　the　hotel　truck；　mostly。　Looked　to　me　like　the　two　of　em　was　just　about　as　tight　as　they　could　get。　That's　one　little　boy　that　loves　his　daddy。　Hope　he's　all　right。〃
　　〃So　do　I。〃　Hallorann　zipped　the　parka　and　tied　the　hood。
　　〃Lemme　help　you　push　that　out；〃　Durkin　said。　They　rolled　the　snowmobile　across　the　oil…stained　concrete　and　toward　the　garage　bay。　〃You　ever　drove　one　of　these　before？〃
　　〃No。
　　〃Well；　there's　nothing　to　it。　The　instructions　are　pasted　there　on　the　dashboard；　but　all　there　really　is；　is　stop　and　go。　Your　throttle's　here；　just　like　a　motorcycle　throttle。　Brake　on　the　other　side。　Lean　with　it　on　the　turns。
　　This　baby　will　do　seventy　on　hardpack；　but　on　this　powder　you'll　get　no　more　than　fifty　and　that's　pushing　it。〃　Now　they　were　in　the　service　station's　snow…filled　front　lot；　and　Durkin　had　raised　his　voice　to　make　himself　heard　over　the　battering　of　the　wind。　〃Stay　on　the　road！〃　he　shouted　at　Hallorann's　ear。　〃Keep　your　eye　on　the　guardrail　posts　and　the　signs　and　you'll　be　all　right；　I　guess。　If　you　get　off　the　road；　you're　going　to　be　dead。　Understand？〃　Hallorann　nodded。
　　〃Wait　a　minute！〃　Durkin　told　him；　and　ran　back　into　the　garage　bay。
　　While　he　was　gone；　Hallorann　turned　the　key　in　the　ignition　and　pumped　the　throttle　a　little。　The　snowmobile　coughed　into　brash；　choppy　life。
　　Durkin　came　back　with　a　red　and　black　ski　mask。
　　〃Put　this　on　under　your　hood！〃　he　shouted。
　　Hallorann　dragged　it　on。　It　was　a　tight　fit；　but　it　cut　the　last　of　the　numbing　wind　off　from　his　cheeks　and　forehead　and　chin。
　　Durkin　leaned　close　to　make　himself　heard。
　　〃I　guess　you　must　know　about　things　the　same　way　Howie　does　sometimes；〃　he　said。　〃It　don't　matter；　except　that　place　has　got　a　bad　reputation　around　here。
　　I'll　give　you　a　rifle　if　you　want　it。〃
　　〃I　don't　think　it　would　do　any　good；〃　Hallorann　shouted　back。
　　〃You're　the　boss。　But　if　you　get　that　boy；　you　bring　him　to　Sixteen　Peach　Lane。　The　wife'll　have　some　soup　on。〃
　　〃Okay。　Thanks　for　everything。〃
　　〃You　watch　out！〃　Durkin　yelled。　〃Stay　on　the　road！〃　Hallorann　nodded　and　twisted　the　throttle　slowly。　The　snowmobile　purred　forward；　the　headlamp　cutting　a　clean　cone　of　light　through　the　thickly　falling　snow。　He　saw　Durkin's　upraised　hand　in　the　rearview　mirror；　and　raised　his　own　in　return。　Then　he　nudged　the　handlebars　to　the　left　and　was　traveling　up　Main　Street；　the　snowmobile　coursing　smoothly　through　the　white　light　thrown　by　the　streetlamps。　The　speedometer　stood　at　thirty　miles　an　hour。　It　was　ten　past　seven。　At　the　Overlook；　Wendy　and　Danny　were　sleeping　and　Jack　Torrance　was　discussing　matters　of　life　and　death　with　the　previous　caretaker。
　　Five　blocks　up　Main；　the　streetlamps　ended。　For　half　a　mile　there　were　small　houses；　all　buttoned　tightly　up　against　the　storm；　and　then　only　wind…howling　darkness。。　In　the　black　again　with　no　light　but　the　thin　spear　of　the　snowmobile's　headlamp；　terror　closed　in　on　him　again；　a　childlike　fear；　dismal　and　disheartening。　He　had　never　felt　so　alone。　For　several　minutes；　as　the　few　lights　of　Sidewinder　dwindled　away　and　disappeared　in　the　rearview；　the　urge　to　turn　around　and　go　back　was　almost　insurmountable。　He　reflected　that　for　all　of　Durkin's　concern　for　Jack　Torrance's　boy；　he　had　not　offered　to　take　the　other　snowmobile　and　e　with　him。
　　（That　place　has　got　a　bad　reputation　around　here。）　Clenching　his　teeth；　he　turned　the　throttle　higher　and　watched　the　needle　on　the　speedometer　climb　past　forty　and　settle　at　forty…five。　He　seemed　to　be　going　horribly　fast　and　yet　he　was　afraid　it　wasn't　fast　enough。　At　this　speed　it　would　take　him　almost　an　hour　to　get　to　the　Overlook。　But　at　a　higher　speed　he　might　not　get　there　at　all。
　　He　kept　his　eyes　glued　to　the　passing　guardrails　and　the　dime…sized　reflectors　mounted　on　top　of　each　one。　Many　of　them　were　buried　under　drifts。　Twice　he　saw　curve　signs　dangerously　late　and　felt　the　snowmobile　riding　up　the　drifts　that　masked　the　dropoff　before　turning　back　onto　where　the　road　was　in　the　summertime。　The　odometer　counted　off　the　miles　at　a　maddeningly　slow　clip…five；　ten；　finally　fifteen。　Even　behind