sk.cujo-第53节

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like　a　great　weight　which　has　reached　the　outermost　degree　of　its　angle　of　repose。　She　swung　the　car　door　shut　…　clunk。
She　waited；　scenting　the　air　like　an　animal。　There　was　nothing。　The　maw　of　Joe　Camber's　barn…garage　was　dark　and　silent。　The　chrome　of　the　Pinto's　front　bumper　twinkled　dimly。　Faintly；　the　Dixieland　music　played　on；　fast　and　brassy　and　cheerful。　She　bent　down；　expecting　her　knees　to　pop；　but　they　didn't。　She　picked　up　a　handful　of　the　loose　gravel。　One　by　one　she　began　to　toss　the　stones　over　the　Pinto's　hood　at　the　place　she　couldn't　see。
The　first　small　stone　landed　in　front　of　Cujo's　nose；　clicked　off　more　stones；　and　then　lay　still。　Cujo　twitched　a　little。　His　tongue　hung　out。　He　seemed　to　be　grinning。　The　second　stone　struck　beyond　him。　The　third　struck　his　shoulder。　He　didn't　move。　THE　WOMAN　was　still　trying　to　draw　him　out。
Donna　stood　by　the　car；　frowning。　She　had　heard　the　first　stone　click　off　the　gravel；　also　the　second。　But　the　third　。。。　it　was　as　if　it　had　never　e　down。　There　had　been　no　minor　click。　What　did　that　mean？
Suddenly　she　didn't　want　to　run　for　the　porch　door　until　she　could　see　that　there　was　nothing　lurking　in　front　of　the　car。　Then；　yes。　Okay。　But　。。。　just　to　make　sure。
She　took　one　step。　Two。　Three。
Cujo　got　ready。　His　eyes　glowed　in　the　darkness。
Four　steps　from　the　door　of　the　car。　Her　heart　was　a　drum　in　her　chest。
Now　Cujo　could　see　THE　WOMAN's　hip　and　thigh。　In　a　moment　she　would　see　him。　Good。　He　wanted　her　to　see　him。
Five　steps　from　the　door。
Donna　turned　her　head。　Her　neck　creaked　like　the　spring　on　an　old　screen　door。　She　felt　a　premonition；　a　sense　of　low　sureness。　She　turned　her　head；　looking　for　Cujo。　Cujo　was　there。　He　had　been　there　all　the　time；　crouched　low；　hiding　from　her；　waiting　for　her；　laying　back　in　the　tall　bushes。
Their　eyes　locked　for　a　moment　…　Donna's　wide　blue　ones；　Cujo's　muddy　red　ones。　For　a　moment　she　was　looking　out　of　his　eyes；　seeing　herself；　seeing　THE　WOMAN　…　was　he　seeing　himself　through　hers？
Then　he　sprang　at　her。
There　was　no　paralysis　this　time。　She　threw　herself　backward；　fumbling　behind　her　for　the　doorhandle。　He　was　snarling　and　grinning；　and　the　drool　ran　out　between　his　teeth　in　thick　strings。　He　landed　where　she　had　been　and　skidded　stiff…legged　in　the　gravel；　giving　her　a　precious　extra　second。
Her　thumb　found　the　door　button　below　the　handle　and　depressed　it。　She　pulled。　The　door　was　stuck。　The　door　wouldn't　open。　Cujo　leaped　at　her。
It　was　as　if　someone　had　slung　a　medicine　ball　right　into　the　soft；　vulnerable　flesh　of　her　breasts。　She　could　feel　them　push　out　toward　her　ribs　…　it　hurt　…　and　then　she　had　the　dog　by　the　throat；　her　fingers　sinking　into　its　heavy；　rough　fur；　trying　to　hold　it　away　from　her。　She　could　hear　the　quickening　sob　of　her　respiration。　Starlight　ran　across　Cujo's　mad　eyes　in　dull　semicircles。　His　teeth　were　snapping　only　inches　from　her　face　and　she　could　smell　a　dead　world　on　his　breath；　terminal　sickness；　senseless　murder。　She　thought　crazily　of　the　drain　backing　up　just　before　her　mother's　party；　spurting　green　goo　all　over　the　ceiling。
Somehow；　using　all　her　strength；　she　was　able　to　fling　him　away　when　his　back　feet　left　the　ground　in　another　lunge　at　her　throat。　She　beat　helplessly　behind　her　for　the　door　button。　She　found　it；　but　before　she　could　even　push　it　in。　Cujo　came　again。　She　kicked　out　at　him；　and　the　sole　of　her　sandal　struck　his　muzzle；　already　badly　lacerated　in　his　earlier　kamikaze　charges　at　the　door。　The　dog　sprawled　back　on　his　haunches；　howling　out　his　pain　and　his　fury。
She　found　the　button　set　in　the　doorhandle　again；　knowing　perfectly　well　that　it　was　her　last　chance；　Tad's　last　chance。　She　pushed　it　in　and　pulled　with　all　her　might　as　the　dog　came　again；　some　creature　from　hell　that　would　e　and　e　and　e　until　she　was　dead　or　it　was。　It　was　the　wrong　angle　for　her　arm；　her　muscles　were　working　at　cross…purposes；　and　she　felt　an　agonizing　flare　of　pain　in　her　back　above　her　right　shoulderblade　as　something　sprained。　But　the　door　opened。　She　had　just　time　to　fall　back　into　the　bucket　seat；　and　then　the　dog　was　on　her　again。
Tad　woke　up。　He　saw　his　mother　being　driven　back　toward　the　Pinto's　center　console；　there　was　something　in　his　mother's　lap；　some　terrible；　hairy　thing　with　red　eyes　and　he　knew　what　it　was；　oh　yes；　it　was　the　thing　from　his　closet；　the　thing　that　had　promised　to　e　a　little　closer　and　a　little　closer　until　it　finally　arrived　right　by　your　bed；　Tad；　and　yes；　here　it　was；　all　right；　here　it　was。　The　Monster　Words　had　failed；　the　monster　was　here；　now；　and　it　was　murdering　his　mommy。　He　began　to　scream；　his　hands　clapped　over　his　eyes。
Its　snapping　jaws　were　inches　from　the　bare　flesh　of　her　midriff。　She　held　it　off　as　best　she　could；　only　faintly　aware　of　her　son's　screams　behind　her。　Cujo's　eyes　were　locked　on　her。　Incredibly；　his　tail　was　wagging。　His　back　legs　worked　at　the　gravel；　trying　to　get　a　footing　solid　enough　to　allow　him　to　jump　right　in；　but　the　gravel　kept　splurting　out　from　under　his　driving　rear　paws。
He　lunged　forward；　her　hands　slipped；　and　suddenly　he　was　biting　her；　biting　her　bare　stomach　just　below　the　white　cotton　cups　of　her　bra；　digging　for　her　entrails　
Donna　uttered　a　low；　feral　cry　of　pain　and　shoved　with　both　hands　as　hard　as　she　could。　Now　she　was　sitting　up　again；　blood　trickling　down　to　the　waistband　of　her　pants。　She　held　Cujo　with　her　left　hand。　Her　right　hand　groped　for　the　Pinto's　doorhandle　and　found　it。　She　began　to　slam　the　door　against　the　dog。　Each　time　she　swept　it　forward　into　Cujo's　ribs；　there　was　a　heavy　whopping　sound；　like　a　heavy　rug　beater　striking　a　carpet　hung　over　a　clothesline。　Each　time　the　door　hit　him；　Cujo　would　grunt；　snorting　his　warm；　foggy　breath　over　her。
He　drew　back　a　little　to　spring。　She　timed　it　and　brought　the　door　toward　her　again；　using　all　of　her　failing　strength。　This　time　the　door　closed　on　his　neck　and　head；　and　she　heard　a　crunching　sound。　Cujo　howled　his　pain　and　she　thought；　He　must　draw　back　now；　he　must；　he　MUST；　but　Cujo　drove　forward　instead　and　his　jaws　closed　on　her　lower　thigh；　just　above　her　knee；　and　with　one　quick　ripping　motion　he　pulled　a　chunk　out　of　her。　Donna　shrieked。
She　slammed　the　door　on　Cujo's　head　again　and　again；　her　screams　melting　into　Tad's；　melting　into　a　gray　shockworld　as　Cujo　worked　on　her　leg；　turning　it　into　something　else；　something　that　was　red　and　muddy　and　churned　up。　The　dog's　head　was　plastered　with　thick；　sticky　blood；　as　black　as　insect　blood　in　the　chancey　starlight。　Little　by　little　he　was　forcing　his　way　in　again；　her　strength　was　on　the　ebb　now。
She　pulled　the　door　to　one　final　time；　her　head　thrown　back；　her　mouth　drawn　open　in　a　quivering　circle；　her　face　a　livid；　moving　blur　in　the　darkness。　It　really　was　the　last　time；　there　was　just　no　more　left。
But　suddenly　Cujo　had　had　enough。
He　drew　back；　whining；　staggered　away；　and　suddenly　fell　over　on　the　gravel；　trembling；　legs　scratching　weakly　at　nothing。　He　began　to　dig　at　his　wounded　head　with　his　right　forepaw。
Donna　slammed　the　door　shut　and　lay　back；　sobbing　weakly。
'Mommy　…　Mommy　…　Mommy
'Tad　。。。　okay　。　。
'Mommy！'
'　。。。　Okay。
Hands：　his　on　her；　fluttering　and　birdlike；　hers　on　Tad's　face；　touching；　trying　to　reassure；　then　falling　back。
'Mommy　。。。　home。。　。　please　。。。　Daddy　and　home　。。。　Daddy　and　home。。。'
'Sure；　Tad　we　will　。。。　we　will；　honest　to　God；　I'll　get　you　there　。。。　we　will　。　。　。'
No　sense　in　the　words。　It　was　all　right。　She　could　feel　herself　fading　back；　fading　into　that　gray　shockworld；　those　mists　in　herself　which　she　had　never　suspected　until　now。　Tad's　words　took　on　a　deep　chaining　sound；　words　in　an　echo　chamber。　But　it　was　all　right。　It　was　
No。　It　wasn't　all　right。
Because　the　dog　had　bitten　her　
…　and　the　dog　was　rabid。
Holly　told　her　sister　not　to　he　foolish；　to　just　dial　her　call　direct；　but　Charity　insisted　on　calling　the　operator　and　having　it　billed　to　her　home　number。　Taking　handouts；　even　a　little　thing　like　an　after…six　long…distance　call；　wasn't　her　way。
The　operator　got　her　directory　assistance　for　Maine　and　Charity　asked　for　Alva　Thornton's　number　in　Castle　Rock。　A　few　moments　later；　Alva's　phone　was　ringing。
'Hello；　Thornton's　Egg　Farms。
'Hi；　Bessie？'
'Ayuh；　'tis。'
'This　is　Charity　Camber。　I'm　calling　from　Connecticut。　Is　Alva　right　around　handy？'
Brett　sat　on　the　sofa；　pretending　to　read　a　book。
'Gee；　Charity；　he　ain't。　He's　got　his　bowling　league　t'night。　They're　all　over　to　the　Pondicherry　Lanes　in　Bridgton。　Somethin　wrong？'
Charity　had　carefully　and　consciously　decided　what　she　was　going　to　say。　The　situation　was　a　bit　delicate。　Like　almost　every　other　married　woman　in　Castle　Rock　（and　that　was　not　to　necessarily　let　out　the　single　ones）；　Bessie　loved　to　talk；　and　if　she　found　out　that　Joe　Camber　had　gone　shooting　off　somewhere　without　his　wife's　knowledge　as　soon　as　Charity　and　Brett　had　left　to　visit　her　sister　in　Connecticut。。。　why；　that　would　be　something　to　talk　about　on　the　party　line；　wouldn't　it？
'No；　except　that　Brett　and　I　got　a　little　worried　about　the　dog。'
'Your　Saint　Bernard？'
'Ayuh；　Cujo。　Brett　and　I　are　down　here　visiting　my　sister　while　Joe's　in　Portsmouth　on　business。　'This　was　a　barefaced　be；　but　a　sa