p&c.thunderhead-第15节

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　〃Since　when　did　you　start　locking　your　office？〃　Skip　said；　slouching　into　the　only　chair　not　covered　with　books　and　tugging　a　large　satchel　onto　his　knees。　〃Look；　Nora；　there's　something…〃　
　〃First　things　first；〃　Nora　interrupted。　〃You　got　my　message？〃　Skip　nodded　and　passed　over　the　satchel。　Nora　unlooped　the　leather　straps　and　looked　inside。　Her　father's　old　Ruger　lay　at　the　bottom；　shoved　into　a　battered　holster。　
　〃What　do　you　want　it　for；　anyway？〃　Skip　asked。　〃Some　academic　rivalry　that　needs　settling？〃　
　Nora　shook　her　head。　〃Skip；　I　want　you　to　be　serious　for　a　minute。　The　Institute's　agreed　to　fund　an　expedition　to　Quivira。　I'll　be　leaving　in　a　couple　of　days。〃　
　Skip's　eyes　widened。　〃Fantastic！　You　don't　waste　any　time；　do　you？　When　do　we　go？〃　
　〃You　know　perfectly　well　you're　not　going；〃　said　Nora。　〃But　I've　arranged　a　job　for　you；　here　at　the　Institute。　You'll　start　work　next　Monday。〃　
　The　eyes　narrowed　again。　〃A　job？　I　don't　know　jack　shit　about　archaeology。〃　
　〃All　that　time　you　spent；　crawling　around　the　ranch　on　your　hands　and　knees　with　Dad；　looking　for　potsherds？　e　on。　Anyway；　it's　an　easy　assignment；　first…year　stuff。　My　associate　Sonya　Rowling　will　show　you　around；　get　you　started；　answer　questions；　keep　you　out　of　trouble。〃　
　〃She　cute？〃　
　〃She's　married。　Look；　I'll　be　gone　about　three　weeks。　If　you　don't　like　it　by　the　time　I　get　back；　you　can　quit。　But　it'll　keep　you　occupied　for　the　time　being。〃　And　maybe　keep　you　in　a　safe　place　during　the　day；　she　thought。　〃You　won't　mind　looking　after　my　place　while　I'm　gone？　And　you'll　leave　my　stuff　alone；　for　a　change？〃　She　shook　her　head。　〃You　use　my　shower；　you　steal　my　hairbrush　。　。　。　I　ought　to　start　charging　rent。〃　
　〃I　didn't　steal　your　hairbrush！〃　Skip　protested。　〃I　mean　sure；　I　used　it；　but　I　put　it　back。　I　know　how　neurotic　you　are　about　that　kind　of　thing。〃　
　〃Not　neurotic。　Just　neat。〃　She　glanced　over。　〃Speaking　of　looking　after　my　place；　where's　Thurber？　Didn't　you　bring　him？〃　
　A　funny　look　came　over　Skip。　〃That's　what　I　wanted　to　tell　you；〃　he　said　in　a　low　voice。　〃Thurber's　missing。〃　
　Nora　felt　the　air　leave　her　lungs　in　a　sudden　rush。　〃Missing？〃　she　repeated。　
　Skip　looked　down　abjectly。　
　〃What　happened？〃　
　Skip　shook　his　head。　〃Don't　know。　It　was　the　second　night　you　were　gone。　He　was　fine　the　first　night；　or　as　fine　as　he　ever　gets。　When　I　came　in　the　second　night　and　called　for　him；　he　was　gone。　It　was　weird。　The　door　was　locked；　all　the　windows　were　shut。　But　there　was　this　funny　smell　in　the　air；　almost　like　flowers。　There　was　some　dog　barking　like　mad　outside；　but　it　didn't　sound　like　Thurber。　I　went　outside　anyway　and　looked　around。　He　must　have　jumped　the　fence　or　something。〃　He　sighed　deeply　and　looked　at　his　sister。　〃I'm　really　sorry；　Nora。　I　looked　all　over　for　him；　I　talked　to　the　neighbors；　I　called　the　pound　。　。　。〃　
　〃You　didn't　leave　a　door　open？〃　Nora　asked。　The　raw　anger　she'd　felt　the　night　before；　the　feeling　of　violation；　was　gone；　leaving　only　a　strange　and　terrible　fear　behind。　
　〃No；　I　swear　I　didn't。　Like　I　said；　everything　was　locked　up。〃　
　〃Skip；　I　want　you　to　listen　to　me；〃　she　said　in　a　low　voice。　〃When　I　got　home　last　night；　I　could　tell　something　wasn't　right。　Somebody　had　been　in　the　apartment。　The　place　was　dirty。　My　hairbrush　was　missing。　There　was　a　strange　smell；　the　same　one　you　noticed。　And　then　I　heard　some　scratching；　and　went　outside…〃　She　stopped。　How　could　she　explain　it：　the　humped；　fur…covered　figure；　the　strange　lack　of　footprints；　the　feeling　of　utter　alienness　that　had　e　across　her　as　she　stood　in　the　dark；　flashlight　in　hand？　And　now　Thurber　。　。　。　
　Skip's　skeptical　look　changed　suddenly　to　concern。　〃Hey；　Nora；　you've　had　quite　a　week；〃　he　said。　〃First　that　thing　out　at　the　ranch；　then　this　expedition　ing　together　out　of　nowhere；　and　Thurber　disappearing。　Why　don't　you　go　home　and　rest　up？〃　
　Nora　looked　into　his　eyes。　
　〃What？〃　he　asked。　〃Are　you　afraid　to　go　home？〃　
　〃It　isn't　that；〃　she　replied。　〃I　had　the　locksmith　out　this　morning　to　install　a　second　lock。　It's　just　that　。　。　。〃　She　hesitated。　〃I　just　have　to　keep　a　low　profile　for　the　next　day　or　two。　I　can　take　care　of　myself。　Once　I'm　out　of　Santa　Fe；　there　won't　be　any　more　problems。　But；　Skip；　promise　me　you'll　be　very　careful　while　I'm　gone。　I'll　leave　Dad's　gun　in　the　bedside　table　drawer　in　my　apartment。　I　want　you　to　have　it　after　I　leave。　And　don't　go　by　the　old　place；　okay？〃　
　〃You　afraid　the　Creature　from　the　Black　Lagoon　will　get　me？〃　
　Nora　rose　quickly。　〃That's　not　funny；　and　you　know　it。〃　
　〃All　right；　all　right。　I　never　visit　that　broken…down　old　shack　anyway。　Besides；　after　what　happened；　I'll　bet　Teresa's　watching　that　place　like　a　hawk；　finger　on　the　trigger。〃　
　Nora　sighed。　〃Maybe　you're　right。〃　
　〃I　am　right。　You　wait　and　see。　Black　Lagoon；　zero。　Winchester；　one。〃　
　
　
11
　
　CALAVERAS　MESA　LAY　SLUMBERING　UNDER　the　midnight　sky；　a　shadowy　island　rising　out　of　an　ocean　of　broken　rock…the　vast　El　Malpaís　lava　flow　of　central　New　Mexico。　A　screen　of　clouds　had　moved　over　the　stars；　and　the　mesa　lay　still　underneath：　silent；　dark；　uninhabited。　The　nearest　settlement　was　Quemado；　fifty　miles　away。　
　Calaveras　Mesa　had　not　always　been　uninhabited。　In　the　fourteenth　century；　Anasazi　Indians　had　moved　into　its　south…facing　cliffs　and　hollowed　out　caves　in　the　soft　volcanic　tuff。　But　the　site　had　proved　uncongenial；　and　the　caves　had　been　abandoned　for　half　a　millennium。　In　this　distant　part　of　El　Malpaís；　there　were　no　roads　and　no　trails；　the　caves　remained　undisturbed　and　unexcavated。　
　Two　dark　forms　moved　among　the　silent　broken　rafts　and　blocks　of　frozen　lava　that　lapped　the　sides　of　the　mesa。　They　were　covered　with　thick　pelts　of　fur；　and　their　movements　had　the　bined　swiftness　and　caution　of　a　wolf。　Both　figures　wore　heavy　silver　jewelry：　concho　belts；　squash　blossom　necklaces；　turquoise　disks；　and　old　sand…cast　bow　guards。　Beneath　the　heavy　pelts；　naked　skin　was　daubed　with　thick　paint。　
　They　reached　the　talus　slope　below　the　caves　and　began　to　ascend；　picking　their　way　among　boulders　and　rockfalls。　At　the　bottom　of　the　cliff　itself　they　rapidly　ascended　a　hand…and…toe　trail　and　disappeared　into　the　dark　mouth　of　a　cave。　
　Inside　the　cave；　they　paused。　One　figure　remained　at　the　mouth　while　the　second　moved　swiftly　to　the　back　of　the　cave。　He　pushed　aside　a　rock；　revealing　a　narrow　passage；　and　wriggled　through　into　a　smaller　room。　There　was　a　faint　scratching　sound　and　the　wavering　light　of　a　burning　splinter　revealed　that　this　room　was　not　empty：　it　was　a　small　Anasazi　burial　chamber。　In　niches　carved　in　the　far　wall　lay　three　mummified　corpses；　a　few　pathetic　broken　pots　left　beside　them　as　offerings。　The　figure　placed　a　ball　of　wax　with　a　bit　of　straw　stuck　into　it　on　a　high　ledge；　lighting　it　with　an　uncertain　glow。　
　Then　he　moved　to　the　central　corpse：　a　gray；　delicate　form　wrapped　in　a　rotting　buffalo　hide。　Its　mummified　lips　had　drawn　back　from　its　teeth　and　its　mouth　was　open　in　a　monstrous　grimace　of　hilarity。　The　legs　of　the　corpse　were　drawn　up　to　the　chest　and　the　knees　had　been　wrapped　with　woven　cords；　its　eyes　were　two　holes；　webbed　with　shreds　of　tissue；　its　hands　were　balled　up　into　shriveled　fists；　the　fingernails　hanging　and　broken；　gnawed　by　rats。　
　The　figure　reached　in　and　cradled　the　mummy　with　infinite　gentleness；　removed　it　from　the　niche；　and　laid　it　down　in　the　thick　layer　of　dust　on　the　cave　floor。　Reaching　into　the　pelt；　he　removed　a　small　woven　basket　and　a　medicine　bundle。　Tugging　open　the　bundle；　he　extracted　something　and　held　it　up　to　the　uncertain　light：　a　pair　of　delicate　bronze　hairs。　
　The　figure　turned　back　to　the　mummy。　Slowly；　he　placed　the　hairs　in　the　mouth　of　the　mummy；　pushing　them　deep　into　the　mummy's　throat。　There　was　a　dry　crackling　noise。　Then　the　figure　leaned　back；　the　candle　snuffed　out；　and　absolute　darkness　fell　once　again。　There　was　a　low　sound；　a　mutter；　then　a　name；　intoned　again　and　again　in　a　slow；　even　voice：　〃Kelly　。　。　。　Kelly　。　。　。　Kelly　。　。　。〃　
　A　long　time　passed。　There　was　another　scratch　of　a　match；　and　the　wax　was　relit。　The　figure　reached　into　the　basket；　then　bent　over　the　corpse。　A　razor…sharp　obsidian　knife　gleamed　in　the　faint　light。　There　was　a　faint；　rhythmic　scraping　noise：　the　sound　of　stone　cutting　through　crisp；　dry　flesh。　The　figure　soon　straightened　up；　holding　a　small　round　disk　of　scalp；　dotted　with　the　whorl　of　hair　from　the　back　of　the　mummy's　head。　The　figure　placed　it　reverently　in　the　basket。　
　The　figure　bent　once　more。　There　was　now　a　louder；　digging　noise。　After　a　few　minutes；　there　was　a　sharp　rap。　The　figure　held　up　a　disk　of　skullbone；　examined　it；　then　placed　it　in　the　basket　beside　the　scalp。　Next；　he　moved　the　knife　down　the　mummy　until　it　reached　the　clenched；　withered　fists。　He　gently　pulled　aside　the　rotted　tatters　of　buffalo　hide　from　the　hands；　caressing　them　in　his　own。　Then　he　worked　the　knife　between　the　fingers；　methodically　prying　them　loose　and　breaking　them　off　one　at　a　time。　Cupping　each　finger；　he　cut　off　the　whorl　of　fingerprint　and　placed　the　desiccated　chips　of　flesh　into　the　basket。　Then　the　figure　moved　down　to　the　toes；　breaking　them