pzb.drawingblood-第72节

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　　〃Keep　talking；〃　said　Trevor。　He　helped　Zach　into　the　back　seat　and　climbed　in　after　him。　〃It's　like　a　bad　oyster？　Why？〃
　　〃　'Cause　my　thoughts　feel　all　slimy　and　rotten　but　I've　already　swallowed　them　and　I　can't　。　。　。　um　。　。　。〃
　　〃Regurgitate　them？〃
　　〃Yeah！〃
　　Kinsey　listened　to　conversation　in　this　vein　for　more　than　twenty　miles。　Occasionally　he　interjected　a　ment　or　question　to　help　Trevor　out；　but　he　did　not　press　them　for　details　of　what　had　happened；　though　he　was　madly　curious　and　more　than　a　little　concerned。　They　would　tell　him　when　they　could。
　　The　emergency　room　in　Raleigh　was　nearly　deserted　at　this　early　hour。　Kinsey　sat　in　an　orange　plastic　chair　designed　to　conform　to　no　human　ass　in　existence；　paged　through　an　assortment　of　magazines　that　no　one　would　ever　want　to　read。　He　listened　to　Trevor　check　himself　in；　then　help　Zach　check　in　under　the　name　〃Fredric　Black；〃　telling　the　nurse　only　that　they　had　been　in　an　accident。
　　〃How　would　you　like　to　pay　for　this？〃
　　Zach　fumbled　in　his　pocket。　〃I　have　some　credit　card　numbers　。　。　。〃
　　〃Cash；〃　said　Trevor　hurriedly。　He　had　Zach's　entire　bankroll　on　him；　and　it　was　considerable。
　　〃Marital　status？〃　the　nurse　inquired。　Zach　stared　wildly　up　at　Trevor。　〃Single；〃　Trevor　told　the　nurse。　〃He's　with　me。〃
　　The　nurse　looked　at　them　for　a　long　moment。　〃Brothers？〃
　　〃Uh；　yeah。〃　Trevor　nodded　at　Kinsey。　〃That's　our　uncle　over　there。〃
　　〃All　right。　You　can　go　back　together。〃　The　nurse　handed　them　their　forms　and　waved　them　down　the　antiseptic　green　corridor。
　　Another　nurse　washed　the　blood　and　plaster　off　Trevor's　hand；　then　picked　seventeen　slivers　of　mirror　glass　out　of　his　knuckles　with　a　pair　of　tweezers。　He　was　given　an　ice　pack　to　hold　while　the　doctor　looked　Zach　over；　probed　the　wound　in　his　scalp；　shone　a　light　into　his　eyes；　and　finally　pronounced　his　concussion　genuine　but　not　serious。　〃Make　him　rest；〃　he　advised　Trevor。　〃Don't　let　him　move　around　a　lot。〃
　　〃I　have　to；〃　protested　Zach。　〃I'm　a　professional　rock　star。〃
　　〃I　won't；〃　Trevor　promised。　He　helped　Zach　down　from　the　examining　table　with　his　good　arm。　The　doctor　glanced　at　the　gash　in　Zach's　head　again。　〃Jesus；　kid；　maybe　we　ought　to　stitch　that　up。〃
　　〃No！　No　stitches！〃
　　〃Well；　it's　your　head　。　。　。　What　hit　you；　anyway？〃
　　〃Diamonds。〃
　　〃Couldn't　have　been　diamonds。　You'd　be　dead。　That's　one　of　the　hardest　substances　known　to　man。〃
　　〃It　was　diamonds；〃　Zach　insisted。
　　The　doctor　glanced　at　Trevor。　〃He　may　not　be；　uh；　real　lucid　for　a　day　or　so。〃
　　〃I　understand。〃　Trevor　squeezed　Zach's　arm。　I　believe　you；　he　thought。　It　was　diamonds；　just　like　the　one　Skeletal　Sammy　pressed　into　my　hand。　He　had　no　idea　what　the　significance　of　diamonds　might　be。　But　it　meant　Zach　had　been　in　Birdland　too。
　　The　only　bad　part　for　Trevor　was　when　the　doctor　pulled　his　fingers　straight　to　splint　them。　He　gripped　Zach's　hand　and　made　himself　ride　the　waves　of　pain　instead　of　sinking　beneath　them。　He　had　done　this　to　himself。　He　would　endure　whatever　he　must　to　fix　it。　And　when　it　was　healed；　he　would　draw　whatever　he　wanted　to　for　the　rest　of　his　life。
　　On　the　way　back　to　Missing　Mile　they　huddled　together　in　the　back　seat；　Zach　lying　with　his　head　in　Trevor's　lap。　Trevor　tried　to　give　Kinsey　a　prehensible　version　of　the　night's　events。　Kinsey　didn't　say　much；　but　seemed　to　believe　everything。
　　〃I　don't　know　what　we're　going　to　do；〃　he　told　Kinsey。　〃Could　we　hole　up　for　a　couple　of　days　with　you？〃
　　〃Sure。　As　long　as　you　want。〃
　　〃I　don't　think　it'll　be　very　long。〃　I　like　everything　else　about　Missing　Mile；　Trevor　thought；　but　I　don't　even　want　to　be　in　the　same　town　with　that　house　anymore。　I　know　what　I　need　to　know　now。　And　Zach　has　to　fly　soon。
　　He　glanced　down　to　make　sure　Zach　wasn't　falling　asleep。　The　doctor　had　said　not　to　let　him　do　so　for　another　hour。
　　But　Zach's　eyes　were　open；　watching　Trevor　steadily；　the　color　of　jade　shining　in　the　clear　morning　light。　He　looked　wide　awake；　and　very　glad　to　be　alive。
　　
　　The　morning　red…eye　express　took　off　from　New　Orleans　International　at　eight…twenty。　Agent　Cover　had　just　enough　time　to　scrape　together　the　bare　bones　of　his　original　raid　team　and　notify　the　Special　Agent　in　Charge　at　the　Raleigh　office　that　they　were　ing。　The　SAIC　was　supposed　to　meet　them　on　the　other　end　with　cars。
　　A　stewardess　pushed　a　gleaming　cart　of　drinks　along　the　aisle　and　stopped　beside　their　row　with　a　saccharine　smile。　〃Can　I　get　you　somethin'？〃
　　〃Coffee；〃　said　Loving；　Schulman；　and　DeFillipo。
　　〃Coffee；〃　said　Cover。
　　〃Cream　and　sugar？〃
　　〃Black；〃　they　said　as　one。
　　Cover　flipped　open　the　Bosch　file　and　stared　at　the　newspaper　article。　His　heart　had　sunk　this　morning　when　he　arrived　at　the　office　and　saw　the　pasty；　sniffling　boy　waiting　in　the　hall。　Duplessis　pored　over　the　papers　until　they　were　soft　and　sweat…stained；　unpleasant　to　handle。　And　all　his　〃discoveries〃　so　far　hadn't　amounted　to　shit。
　　But　when　Cover　read　this　one；　he　got　excited　right　away。　The　other　article　had　mentioned　North　Carolina　outright；　this　one　seemed　to　hint　slyly　at　it；　which　could　mean　Bosch　was　there　and　had　decided　to　stay　for　a　while。　And　there　was　a　town　called　Missing　Mile。　And　no　one　could　really　shoot　himself　five　times　with　five　different　guns。
　　The　clincher　came　when　Schulman　delivered　the　news　that　Joseph　Boudreaux；　Times…Picayune　reporter；　had　never　even　heard　of　the　goddess　Kali。
　　Agent　Cover　thought　Bosch　had　finally　fucked　up。
　　He　stared　out　the　window　at　the　bright　blue　morning　sky；　at　the　sunlight　washing　over　the　creamy　tops　of　the　clouds。　He　always　felt　safe　at　twenty　thousand　feet。　He　took　his　mirrorshades　out　of　his　breast　pocket　and　put　them　on；　then　glanced　back　down　at　the　file。　The　little　photo　of　Bosch　stared　up　at　him；　lips　twisted　in　a　punk　sneer；　eyes　accusing。
　　I'm　ing　for　you；　he　thought。　I　hope　you　had　a　ball　in　North　Carolina；　because　you　aren't　going　anywhere　else　for　a　long；　long　time。
　　He　was　a　little　surprised　to　find　himself　elated。　He　was　supposed　to　be　a　granite　agent。　Instead　he　felt　like　a　kid　on　an　Easter　egg　hunt；　closing　in　on　the　big　chocolate　bunny。
　　
　　Terry　drove　his　Rambler　into　town　around　two；　sent　his　afternoon　worker　home；　cranked　up　R。E。M。's　first　album；　and　sat　behind　the　counter　at　the　Whirling　Disc　staring　contentedly　at　the　shifting　patterns　of　sunlight　on　the　opposite　wall。　He　always　felt　wonderful　the　day　after　doing　mushrooms。　The　visuals　took　about　twenty…four　hours　to　fade　pletely　from　his　brain；　and　they　gave　the　next　day　a　distinct　psychedelic　edge。　Even　his　throat　felt　better。
　　R。J。；　who　still　preferred　to　live　like　an　eleven…year…old　kid　most　of　the　time；　had　just　said　no　and　gone　home　to　bed。　Terry　tripped　with　Victoria；　Calvin；　and　David；　the　redheaded　boy　Calvin　had　met　at　the　show。　David　turned　out　to　be　a　brilliant　twenty…year…old　exchange　student　from　London　who　entertained　them　all　with　witty　banter　until　Calvin　dragged　him　off　into　one　of　the　bedrooms。　Terry　and　Victoria　took　the　other　one。　There　was　nothing　quite　like　sex　on　hallucinogens　to　strengthen　a　relationship。
　　Around　four…thirty　A。M。　they'd　all　met　back　up　in　the　kitchen；　bedraggled　and　happy；　and　managed　to　make　a　batch　of　popcorn。　Then　they　put　Willy　Wonka　and　the　Chocolate　Factory　on　Terry's　VCR；　snuggled　up　on　the　couch；　and　thrilled　to　the　sinister　tale　until　dawn；　rewinding　it　again　and　again　at　the　part　where　Gene　Wilder　said　〃WE　are　the　music　makers；　and　WE　are　the　dreamers　of　dreams。〃　After　that　Terry　and　Victoria　crashed　while　Calvin　and　David　went　zooming　off　to　breakfast；　still　full　of　crazed　fungal　energy。
　　Terry　suspected　that　psychedelic　drugs　affected　the　body　chemistry　of　gay　men　differently　than　straights。　He　could　never　eat　greasy　diner　food　on　'shrooms；　and　though　he'd　enjoyed　Ecstasy　the　couple　of　times　he'd　done　it；　he　hadn't　felt　remotely　like　dancing　to　disco　music　all　night。　Or　techno；　or　rave；　or　whatever　was　the　current　noise　of　choice。　Calvin　and　David　had　kept　wanting　to　drive　to　Raleigh　where　they　imagined　they　could　find'　some　glamorous　after…hours　club　and　do　just　that。
　　That　made　him　think　of　Trevor　and　Zach。　Terry　had　hoped　they　would　show　up　again；　but　they　never　did。　He　wondered　if　they　had　spent　the　night　tripping　in　that　house。　The　thought　made　his　nuts　crawl。　Terry　remembered　scaring　his　younger　friends　with　the　story　of　the　murders　as　a　teenager；　wondering　aloud　if　the　McGees'　ghosts　still　lived　in　the　house；　daring　them　to　go　inside　with　him。
　　Eventually；　of　course；　they　had。　At　first　it　had　just　looked　like　any　old　abandoned　house；　all　sagging　wood　and　ancient　dust　and　shadow。　But　as　they　approached　the　bloodstained　doorway　to　the　hall；　the　shadows　had　seemed　to　shift　around　them；　to　change；　and　for　a　moment　they　were　no　longer　in　the　house　at　all。
　　He　didn't　know　if　it　had　been　a　group　hallucination　or　what。　He　doubted　so；　because　it　didn't　seem　to　have　anything　to　do　with　the　murders。　Terry　had　seen　a　city　street　around　him；　a　boarded…up　slum；　wavering　like　a　mirage　but　definitely　there。　R。J。　had　seen　a　dark　deserted　bar　with　shattered　glass　on　the　floor　and　cracked　mirro