sk.thewastelands-第48节

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　　The　house　was　alive。　He　knew　this；　could　feel　its　awareness　reaching　out　from　the　boards　and　the　slumping　roof；　could　feel　it　pouring　in　rivers　from　the　black　sockets　of　its　windows。　The　idea　of　approaching　that　terrible　place　filled　him　with　dismay；　the　idea　of　actually　going　inside　filled　him　with　inarticulate　horror。　Yet　he　would　have　to。　He　could　hear　a　low；　slumbrous　buzzing　in　his　ears…the　sound　of　a　beehive　on　a　hot　summer　day…and　for　a　moment　he　was　afraid　he　might　faint。　He　closed　his　eyes　。　。　。　and　his　voice　filled　his　head。
　　You　must　e；　Jake。　This　is　the　path　of　the　Beam；　the　way　of　the　Tower；　and　the　time　of　your　Drawing。　Be　true；　stand；　e　to　me。
　　The　fear　didn't　pass；　but　that　terrible　sense　of　impending　panic　did。　He　opened　his　eyes　again　and　saw　that　he　was　not　the　only　one　who　had　sensed　the　power　and　awakening　sentience　of　the　place。　Eddie　was　trying　to　pull　away　from　the　fence。　He　turned　toward　Jake；　who　could　see　Eddie's　eyes；　wide　and　uneasy　beneath　his　green　head…band。　His　big　brother　grabbed　him　and　pushed　him　toward　the　rusty　gate；　but　the　gesture　was　too　half…hearted　to　be　much　of　a　tease；　however　thick…headed　he　might　be；　Henry　liked　The　Mansion　no　better　than　Eddie　did。
　　They　drew　away　a　little　and　stood　looking　at　the　place　for　a　while。　Jake　could　not　make　out　what　they　were　saying　to　each　other；　but　the　tone　of　their　voices　was　awed　and　uneasy。　Jake　suddenly　remembered　Eddie　speaking　in　his　dream：　Remember　there's　danger；　though。　Be　care…ful　。　。　。　and　be　quick。
　　Suddenly　the　real　Eddie；　the　one　across　the　street；　raised　his　voice　enough　so　that　Jake　could　make　out　the　words。　〃Can　we　go　home　now；　Henry？　Please？　I　don't　like　it。〃　His　tone　was　pleading。
　　〃Fuckin　little　sissy；〃　Henry　said；　but　Jake　thought　he　heard　relief　as　well　as　indulgence　in　Henry's　voice。　〃e　on。〃
　　They　turned　away　from　the　ruined　house　crouching　high…shouldered　behind　its　sagging　fence　and　approached　the　street。　Jake　backed　up；　then　turned　and　looked　into　the　window　of　the　dispirited　little　hole…in…the…wall　shop　called　Dutch　Hill　Used　Appliances。　He　watched　Henry　and　Eddie；　dim　and　ghostly　reflections　superimposed　on　an　ancient　Hoover　vacuum　cleaner；　cross　Rhinehold　Street。
　　〃Are　you　sure　it's　not　really　haunted？〃　Eddie　asked　as　they　stepped　onto　the　sidewalk　on　Jake's　side。
　　〃Well；　I　tell　you　what；〃　Henry　said。　〃Now　that　I　been　out　here　again；　I'm　really　not　so　sure。〃
　　They　passed　directly　behind　Jake　without　looking　at　him。　〃Would　you　go　in　there？〃　Eddie　asked。
　　〃Not　for　a　million　dollars；〃　Henry　replied　promptly。
　　They　rounded　the　corner。　Jake　stepped　away　from　the　window　and　peeped　after　them。　They　were　headed　back　the　way　they　had　e；　close　together　on　the　sidewalk；　Henry　hulking　along　in　his　steel…toed　shit…kickers；　his　shoulders　already　slumped　like　those　of　a　much　older　man；　Eddie　walking　beside　him　with　neat；　unconscious　grace。　Their　shadows；　long　and　trailing　out　into　the　street　now；　mingled　amicably　together。
　　They're　going　home；　Jake　thought；　and　felt　a　wave　of　loneliness　so　strong　that　he　felt　it　would　crush　him。　Going　to　eat　supper　and　do　homework　and　argue　over　which　TV　shows　to　watch　and　then　go　to　bed。　Henry　may　be　a　bullying　shit；　but　they've　got　a　life；　those　two；　one　that　makes　sense　。　。　。　and　they're　going　back　to　it。　I　wonder　if　they　have　any　idea　of　how　lucky　they　are。　Eddie　might；　I　suppose。
　　Jake　turned；　adjusted　the　straps　of　his　pack；　and　crossed　Rhinehold　Street。
　　
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　　SUSANNAH　SENSED　MOVEMENT　IN　the　empty　grassland　beyond　the　circle　of　standing　stones：　a　sighing；　whispering　rush。
　　〃Something　in；〃　she　said　tautly。　〃in　fast。〃
　　〃Be　careful；〃　Eddie　said；　〃but　keep　it　off　me。　You　understand？　Keep　it　off　me。〃
　　〃I　hear　you；　Eddie。　You　just　do　your　own　thing。〃
　　Eddie　nodded。　He　knelt　in　the　center　of　the　ring；　holding　the　sharp…ened　stick　out　in　front　of　him　as　if　assessing　its　point。　Then　he　lowered　it　and　drew　a　dark　straight　line　in　the　dirt。　〃Roland；　watch　out　for　her。　。　。〃
　　〃I　will　if　I　can；　Eddie。〃
　　〃。　。　。　but　keep　it　off　me。　Jake's　ing。　Crazy　little　mother's　really　ing。〃
　　Susannah　could　now　see　the　grasses　due　north　of　the　speaking　ring　parting　in　a　long　dark　line；　creating　a　furrow　that　lanced　straight　at　the　circle　of　stones。
　　〃Get　ready；〃　Roland　said。　〃It'll　go　for　Eddie。　One　of　us　will　have　to　ambush　it。〃
　　Susannah　reared　up　on　her　haunches　like　a　snake　ing　out　of　a　Hindu　fakir's　basket。　Her　hands；　rolled　into　hard　brown　fists；　were　held　at　the　sides　of　her　face。　Her　eyes　blazed。　〃I'm　ready；〃　she　said　and　then　shouted：　〃e　on；　big　boy！　You　e　on　right　now！　Run　like　it's　yo　birfday！〃
　　The　rain　began　to　fall　harder　as　the　demon　which　lived　here　re…entered　its　circle　in　a　booming　rush。　Susannah　had　just　time　to　sense　thick　and　merciless　masculinity…it　came　to　her　as　an　eyewatering　smell　of　gin　and　juniper…and　then　it　shot　toward　the　center　of　the　circle。　She　closed　her　eyes　and　reached　for　it；　not　with　her　arms　or　her　mind　but　with　all　the　female　force　which　lived　at　the　core　of　her：　Hey；　big　boy！　Where　you　goan？　D'pussy　be　ovah　heah！
　　It　whirled。　She　felt　its　surprise　。　。　。　and　then　its　raw　hunger；　as　full　and　urgent　as　a　pulsing　artery。　It　leaped　upon　her　like　a　rapist　springing　from　the　mouth　of　an　alley。
　　Susannah　howled　and　rocked　backward；　cords　standing　out　on　her　neck。　The　dress　she　wore　first　flattened　against　her　breasts　and　belly；　and　then　began　to　tear　itself　to　shreds。　She　could　hear　a　pointless；　direc…tionless　panting；　as　if　the　air　itself　had　decided　to　rut　with　her。
　　〃Suze！〃　Eddie　shouted；　and　began　to　get　to　his　feet。
　　〃No！〃　she　screamed　back。　〃Do　it！　I　got　this　sumbitch　right　where　。　。　。　right　where　I　want　him！　Go　on；　Eddie！　Bring　the　kid！　Bring…〃　Coldness　battered　at　the　tender　flesh　between　her　legs。　She　grunted；　fell　backward　。　。　then　supported　herself　with　one　hand　and　thrust　defiantly　forward　and　upward。　〃Bring　him　through！〃
　　Eddie　looked　uncertainly　at　Roland；　who　nodded。　Eddie　glanced　at　Susannah　again；　his　eyes　full　of　dark　pain　and　darker　fear；　and　then　deliberately　turned　his　back　on　both　of　them　and　fell　to　his　knees　again。　He　reached　forward　with　the　sharpened　stick　which　had　bee　a　make…shift　pencil；　ignoring　the　cold　rain　falling　on　his　arms　and　the　back　of　his　neck。　The　stick　began　to　move；　making　lines　and　angles；　creating　a　shape　Roland　knew　at　once。
　　It　was　a　door。
　　
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　　JAKE　REACHED　OUT；　PUT　his　hands　on　the　splintery　gate；　and　pushed。　It　swung　slowly　open　on　screaming；　rust…clotted　hinges。　Ahead　of　him　was　an　uneven　brick　path。　Beyond　the　path　was　the　porch。　Beyond　the　porch　was　the　door。　It　had　been　boarded　shut。
　　He　walked　slowly　toward　the　house；　heart　telegraphing　fast　dots　and　dashes　in　his　throat。　Weeds　had　grown　up　between　the　buckled　bricks。　He　could　hear　them　rustling　against　his　bluejeans。　All　his　senses　seemed　to　have　been　turned　up　two　notches。　You're　not　really　going　in　there；　are　you？　a　panic…stricken　voice　in　his　head　asked。
　　And　the　answer　that　occurred　to　him　seemed　both　totally　nuts　and　perfectly　reasonable：　All　things　serve　the　Beam。
　　The　sign　on　the　lawn　read
　　ABSOLUTELY　NO　TRESPASSING　UNDER　PENALTY　OF　LAW！
　　The　yellowing；　rust…stained　square　of　paper　nailed　to　one　of　the　boards　crisscrossing　the　front　door　was　more　succinct：
　　BY　ORDER　OF　NYC　HOUSING　AUTHORITY　THIS　PROPERTY　CONDEMNED
　　Jake　paused　at　the　foot　of　the　steps；　looking　up　at　the　door。　He　had　heard　voices　in　the　vacant　lot　and　now　he　could　hear　them　again　。　。　。　but　this　was　a　choir　of　the　damned；　a　babble　of　insane　threats　and　equally　insane　promises。　Yet　he　thought　it　was　all　one　voice。　The　voice　of　the　house；　the　voice　of　some　monstrous　doorkeeper；　roused　from　its　long　unpeaceful　sleep。
　　He　thought　briefly　of　his　father's　Ruger；　even　considered　pulling　it　out　of　his　pack；　but　what　good　would　it　do？　Behind　him；　traffic　passed　back　and　forth　on　Rhinehold　Street　and　a　woman　was　yelling　for　her　daughter　to　stop　holding　hands　with　that　boy　and　bring　in　the　wash；　but　here　was　another　world；　one　ruled　by　some　bleak　being　over　whom　guns　could　have　no　power。
　　Be　true；　Jake…stand。
　　〃Okay；〃　he　said　in　a　low；　shaky　voice。　〃Okay；　I'll　try。　But　you　better　not　drop　me　again。〃
　　Slowly；　he　began　to　mount　the　porch　steps。
　　
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　　THE　BOARDS　WHICH　BARRED　the　door　were　old　and　rotten；　the　nails　rusty。　Jake　grabbed　hold　of　the　top　set　at　the　point　where　they　crossed　each　other　and　yanked。　They　came　free　with　a　squall　that　was　the　gate　all　over　again。　He　tossed　them　over　the　porch　rail　and　into　an　ancient　flowerbed　where　only　witchgrass　and　dogweed　grew。　He　bent；　grasped　the　lower　crossing　。　。　。　and　paused　for　a　moment。
　　A　hollow　sound　came　through　the　door；　the　sound　of　some　animal　slobbering　hungrily　from　deep　inside　a　concrete　pipe。　Jake　felt　a　sick　sheen　of　sweat　begin　to　break　out　on　his　cheeks　and　forehead。　He　was　so　frightened　that　he　no　longer　felt　precisely　real；　he　seemed　to　have　bee　a　character　in　someone　else's　bad　dream。
　　The　evil　choir；　the　evil　presence；　was　behind　this　door。　The　sound　of　it　seeped　out　like　syrup。
　　He　yanked　at　die　lower　boards。　They　came　free　easily。
　　Of　course。　It　wants　me　to　e