jefflong.yearzero-第82节

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culosis。　They　limped　from　wounds。　Their　eyes　were　crusted。　Filth　leaked　from　the　ankles　of　their　pants。　Like　Crusaders　on　their　way　to　Jerusalem。
　War　fired　them；　that　was　evident。　Every　other　hand　held　some　sort　of　weapon。　As　he　continued　along　the　highway；　the　circles　of　hunter…warriors　cleaning　their　rifles　and　talking　the　talk　looked　like　skeletons　draped　with　bandoliers。　He　didn't　meet　their　eyes。　They　terrified　him。　He　terrified　himself。　What　was　he　doing　here？　It　seemed　ludicrous。　He　might　as　well　try　to　persuade　the　dark　sky　to　clean　itself。　Even　the　children's　faces　were　daubed　with　engine　grease　and　mud。
　No　one　knew　him；　but　it　seemed　everyone　recognized　him。　He　was　clean　and　healthy　and　whole；　an　American　marvel。　He　startled　them。　His　face　was　washed。　He'd　shaved。　No　dreadlocks；　no　beard；　no　festering　sores。　He　had　all　his　teeth。　They　parted　before　him。　He　was　like　a　relic　from　their　past。　Out　of　curiosity；　they　began　to　tag　along。
　It　started　small　and　grew。　The　further　Nathan　Lee　went；　the　larger　his　following　became。　He　could　feel　them　back　there；　hear　their　wonder。　Plainly　they　were　waiting　for　something　or　someone　to　break　the　awful；　grinding；　peasant　monotony。　Any　excuse　would　do。　Instead　of　coffee　or　talk　radio；　they　had　him。
　Once　across　the　bridge；　Nathan　Lee　had　planned　on　blending　into　the　masses　and　stealing　his　way　from　there。　But　his　passage　was　taking　on　a　life　of　its　own。　The　swiftness　of　it　alarmed　him。　He　had　no　more　control　over　them　than　Miranda　did　over　the　virus。　Lumbering　up　from　the　icy　muck　along　the　road's　shoulders　and　the　outlying　desert；　they　fell　in　behind　him　without　reason。　He　wanted　to　stop　and　shout　at　them　to　go　away；　but　this　was　their　home；　and　he　was　the　stranger。　He　wanted　to　run　and　hide；　but　that　would　only　have　made　him　more　conspicuous。　And　so　he　forged　on　toward　the　cloverleaf　looming　ahead　at　I…84。
　There　was　no　mistaking　their　nationality。　For　one　thing；　they　congregated　more　densely　on　and　along　the　ribbons　of　blacktop。　The　highways　seemed　part　of　their　soul。　Also；　their　clothing　declared　a　binding　history。　Little　Mermaid　sweatshirts　mingled　with　NFL　team　jerseys；　Gap　jeans　with　Desert　Storm　camouflage；　fast…food　work　shirts　with　FedEx　and　U。S。　Postal　Service　jackets；　faux　furs　with　real。　The　rags　were　layered　one　on　top　of　another。　As　winter　felled　the　weak；　not　one　thread　of　clothing　went　to　waste。　The　dead　and　dying　were　nude。
　The　crowd　trailed　behind。　Their　numbers　swelled。　Nathan　Lee　felt　trapped　out　front　with　no　alternative　except　to　stay　in　motion。　He　made　his　stride　confident；　never　mind　that　he　was　lost　in　their　chaos。　He　didn't　dare　pause　or　show　uncertainty　or　ask　questions。
　He　kept　looking　above　the　multitude　for　a　particular　cross　with　a　man　hanging　on　it。　He　passed　pyres　so　large　they　threw　heat　a　hundred　feet　and　cracked　and　thundered　like　small　forest　fires。　He　saw　powerlines　looping　down　through　the　smoke；　then　soaring　from　sight　in　the　murk　above。　Crosses　jutted　here　and　there；　but　all　were　empty；　and　not　one　was　the　right　shape；　with　a　long　stem　and　high　crossbar。　He'd　memorized　it　from　the　video　images；　and　counted　on　it　for　his　landmark。　But　it　was　nowhere　to　be　seen。
　He　would　have　been　lost　without　the　people。　Oddly　it　was　their　herd　mentality　that　guided　him。　They　didn't　point　the　way。　But　as　Nathan　Lee　advanced；　the　throngs　ahead　seemed　to　know　where　he　must　be　going　and　they　opened　a　corridor　for　him。　All　he　had　to　do　was　follow　their　expectations。
　In　that　way；　half　a　mile　on；　just　past　the　intersection　of　highways；　Nathan　Lee　reached　the　center。　It　was　in　a　clearing　in　a　shallow　hollow。　The　cross　was　down　there；　and　Ochs　was　with　it。
　Nathan　Lee　had　figured　Ochs　would　be　close　by。　The　crucifixion　marked　his　lair。　Ochs　was　a　lion　with　his　prey。　The　body　on　the　cross　testified　to　his　dominion。
　At　the　upper　rim　of　the　hollow；　the　crowd　held　back　as　if　it　were　an　arena。　Nathan　Lee　couldn't　slow　his　momentum；　much　less　halt　it。　He　felt　propelled。　The　horde　was　his　bane；　but　also　his　main　chance；　witnesses　to　whatever　was　about　to　unfold。　There　was　no　time　to　deliberate。　He　cast　himself　down　the　slight　decline；　and　it　was　like　falling。　He　grabbed　at　every　detail。
　Izzy　was　still　alive　up　there。
　Ochs　had　his　back　to　the　rim。　He　was　facing　a　host　of　warriors　near　the　foot　of　the　cross；　sermonizing；　voice　deep；　a　priest　and　his　prop。
　A　soldier　on　the　outer　edge　glanced　up　at　Nathan　Lee's　approach。　He　had　a　red　cross　painted　up　the　bridge　of　his　nose　and　across　his　forehead。　He　decided　the　newer　must　belong　or　else　he　wouldn't　be　here；　and　returned　his　attention　to　Ochs。
　Nathan　Lee　went　deeper。　Suddenly　it　all　seemed　so　effortless。　His　feet　hardly　touched　the　ground。　His　path　was　decided。
　The　cross　was　a　tall　thing；　with　no　ladder　in　sight。　The　executioners　had　rooted　the　stem　in　a　hole　and　shimmed　it　with　boulders　and　pieces　of　wood。
　Izzy's　teeth　were　bared。　The　veins　in　his　neck　looked　like　something　on　an　Olympic　powerlifter。　He　was　straining　with　all　his　might；　gaining　an　inch；　losing　it。　It　was　a　delicate　act。　Every　movement　was　agony。　His　head　hooked　back　against　the　wood；　anything　to　aid　his　climb　for　air。
　In　mid…stride；　Nathan　Lee　bent　and　reached　under　his　pant　leg。　He'd　taped　the　knife　to　his　shin；　handle　down；　and　it　came　loose　with　one　motion。　He　was　sure　someone　in　the　crowd　would　call　an　alarm。　But　not　a　voice　lifted。
　Ochs　raised　his　long　arms；　blessing　them；　summoning　the　apocalypse。　His　back　was　wide　and　bare；　laced　with　whip　scars；　all　bone　and　stretched　leather。　Through　the　lucid　skin；　his　scapula　showed　like　wings。　Men　knelt　on　the　cold　soil　around　the　cross。　Ochs　was　invoking　Izzy's　suffering。　He　gave　thanks　for　his　example。
　For　an　instant　Nathan　Lee　felt　time　slip。　Myth　was　their　gravity。　The　past　was　the　present。　His　head　spun。
　Izzy's　toes　showed　beneath　an　upside…down；　white…and…black　Texas　license　plate；　balling；　then　spreading　apart　with　simian　pain。　Crucifying　a　man　was　something　of　a　lost　art。　They'd　had　to　invent　a　little；　using　sixteen…penny　nails　driven　through　stainless　steel　washers　and　old　license　plates　so　that　his　wrists　and　ankles　wouldn't　tear　loose。
　Ochs　paused。　The　tall　cross　swayed　with　Izzy's　fragile　motions。　In　the　silence；　the　wood　squeaked。
　Nathan　Lee　quickened　his　step。　No　holding　back。　Now　others　noticed　his　approach；　but　without　concern。　Each　step　he　took　made　him　more　trustworthy。
　Overhead；　Izzy　opened　his　eyes。　He　blinked　at　the　sky　and　the　dark；　wheeling　birds。　Then　he　peered　down；　skull　pressed　sideways　against　the　wood。　That　was　when　he　caught　sight　of　Nathan　Lee。　His　eyes　lit　up。
　Ochs　saw　the　instant　of　hope　where　hope　did　not　belong。　That　was　his　warning。　He　started　to　turn。
　Nathan　Lee　didn't　feel　his　legs　jump。　Somehow　he　was　suddenly　just　airborne。　He　landed　against　Ochs's　bony　back。　Ochs　struggled；　but　for　once　Nathan　Lee　had　the　advantage。　He　bulldogged　the　giant　backward。　Nathan　Lee　had　never　practiced　anything　like　this；　never　wielded　a　knife　in　anger。　Yet　it　all　came　together。
　Ochs　collapsed　under　his　weight。　He　fell　to　his　knees。　That　quickly；　Nathan　Lee　found　himself　facing　the　band　of　soldiers　and　the　cross。　He　glanced　down；　and　there　was　Ochs's　head　tucked　in　the　crook　of　his　arm。　His　fingers　were　locked　behind　the　far　side　of　that　big　jaw；　the　knife　was　under　that　throat。　He　owned　the　man's　life。
　For　the　next　few　moments；　they　were　like　a　forest　at　rest。　The　crowd　ringing　the　rim　above；　the　disbelieving　warriors；　everyone　was　still。　You　could　hear　the　ravens　calling　overhead；　and　Izzy's　soft；　panting　breaths；　like　a　climber　in　very　thin　air。　Frost　piped　from　his　teeth。
　Nathan　Lee　cranked　back。　He　aimed　Ochs's　face　at　the　cross；　and　tightened　his　knife　hand。
　Near　the　back；　one　of　the　soldiers　tried　angling　to　one　side　to　flank　him。　〃I　don't　need　more　excuses；〃　Nathan　Lee　told　them。　〃Move　back。　Lay　down　those　guns。〃　His　words　smoked　in　the　cold　air；　straight　out　of　some　Western。
　When　no　one　moved；　Nathan　Lee　gave　the　knife　a　tug；　not　much；　an　inch；　enough　to　cut　the　skin。　Ochs's　blood　ran　along　the　blade。　It　was　hot　on　his　fingers。
　They　obeyed　by　fits　and　starts；　shuffling　back。　〃More；〃　said　Nathan　Lee。　The　gap　grew。　Soon　the　ground　was　littered　with　rifles　and　cheap　handguns。
　〃They　sent　you；〃　said　a　man。　〃The　city。〃
　〃They　didn't　need　to；〃　said　Nathan　Lee。　〃This　is　personal。〃
　〃You　came；〃　rasped　Ochs。　He　sounded　joyful。
　He　wants　this；Nathan　Lee　realized。　Again　he　felt　that　dizzying　vertigo；　the　sense　of　myth。　He　was　a　twig　being　swept　along　on　a　big　river。
　〃You　know　each　other？〃　said　a　tall　soldier。
　Nathan　Lee　watched　their　eyes。　They　were　angry　eyes；　deadly　and　calculating；　but　most　of　them　were　fixed　on　his　face；　not　Ochs's。　That　said　something。　His　trespass　shocked　them。　It　offended　them　as　men　of　action。　No　doubt　some　felt　brute　loyalty　to　Ochs。　But　the　majority　of　their　outrage　seemed　more　prideful　than　distressed。Their　prophet　was　not　beloved。　Indeed；　as　their　surprise　was　wearing　off；　Nathan　Lee　saw　several　trading　glances；　full　of　conspiracy。　Ochs's　hostage　value　was　dwindling　by　the　heartbeat。
　〃Go　ahead；　make　your　speech。　Or　kill　him；〃　a　man　called。　〃You　can't　stop　us。〃
　Nathan　Lee　l