sk.theshining-第94节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


at　him　as　they　had　done　in　the　dreams；　the　visions；　only　now　he　was　in　the　world　of　real　things；　where　the　game　was　played　for　keeps。
　　He　turned　to　the　right　and　came　to　a　halt；　his　heart　thudding　heavily　in　his　chest。　Heat　was　blowing　around　his　ankles。　From　the　registers；　of　course。　This　must　have　been　Daddy's　day　to　heat　the　west　wing　and　（You　will　remember　what　your　father　forgot。）　What　was　it？　He　almost　knew。　Something　that　might　save　him　and　Mommy？　But　Tony　had　said　he　would　have　to　do　it　himself。　What　was　it？
　　He　sank　down　against　the　wall；　trying　desperately　to　think。　It　was　so　hard　。　。
　　。　the　hotel　kept　trying　to　get　into　his　head　。　。　。　the　image　of　that　dark　and　slumped　form　swinging　the　mallet　from　side　to　side；　gouging　the　wallpaper　。　。　。
　　sending　out　puffs　of　plaster　dust。
　　〃Help　me；〃　he　muttered。　〃Tony；　help　me。〃　And　suddenly　he　became　aware　that　the　hotel　had　grown　deathly　silent。　The　whining　sound　of　the　motor　had　stopped　（must　not　have　been　real）　and　the　sounds　of　the　party　had　stopped　and　there　was　only　the　wind；　howling　and　whooping　endlessly。
　　The　elevator　whirred　into　sudden　life。
　　It　was　ing　up。
　　And　Danny　knew　who…what…was　in　it。
　　He　bolted　to　his　feet；　eyes　staring　wildly。　Panic　clutched　around　his　heart。
　　Why　had　Tony　sent　him　to　the　third　floor？　He　was　trapped　up　here。　All　the　doors　were　locked。
　　The　attic！
　　There　was　an　attic；　he　knew。　He　had　e　up　here　with　daddy　the　day　he　had　salted　the　rattraps　around　up　there。　He　hadn't　allowed　Danny　to　e　up　with　him　because　of　the　rats。　He　was　afraid　Danny　might　be　bitten。　But　the　trapdoor　which　led　to　the　attic　was　set　into　the　ceiling　of　the　last　short　corridor　in　this　wing。　There　was　a　pole　leaning　against　the　wall。　Daddy　had　pushed　the　trapdoor　open　with　the　pole；　there　had　been　a　ratcheting　whir　of　counterweights　as　the　door　went　up　and　a　ladder　had　swung　down。　If　he　could　get　up　there　and　pull　the　ladder　after　him　。　。　。
　　Somewhere　in　the　maze　of　corridors　behind　him；　the　elevator　came　to　a　stop。
　　There　was　a　metallic；　rattling　crash　as　the　gate　was　thrown　back。　And　then　a　voice…not　in　his　head　now　but　terribly　real…called　out：　〃Danny？　Danny；　e　here　a　minute；　will　you？　You've　done　something　wrong　and　I　want　you　to　e　and　take　your　medicine　like　a　man。　Danny？　Danny！〃　Obedience　was　so　strongly　ingrained　in　him　that　he　actually　took　two　automatic　steps　toward　the　sound　of　that　voice　before　stopping。　His　hands　curled　into　fists　at　his　sides。
　　（Not　real！　False　face！　I　know　what　you　are！　Take　off　your　mask！）
　　〃Danny！〃　it　roared。　〃e　here；　you　pup！　e　here　and　take　it　like　a　man！〃　A　loud；　hollow　boom　as　the　mallet　struck　the　wall。　When　the　voice　roared　out　his　name　again　it　had　changed　location。　It　had　e　closer。
　　In　the　world　of　real　things；　the　hunt　was　beginning。
　　Danny　ran。　Feet　silent　on　the　heavy　carpet；　he　ran　past　the　closed　doors；　past　the　silk　figured　wallpaper；　past　the　fire　extinguisher　bolted　to　the　corner　of　the　wall。　He　hesitated；　and　then　plunged　down　the　final　corridor。　Nothing　at　the　end　but　a　bolted　door；　and　nowhere　left　to　run。
　　But　the　pole　was　still　there；　still　leaning　against　the　wall　where　Daddy　had　left　it。
　　Danny　snatched　it　up。　He　craned　his　neck　to　stare　up　at　the　trapdoor。　There　was　a　hook　on　the　end　of　the　pole　and　you　had　to　catch　it　on　a　ring　set　into　the　trapdoor。　You　bad　to…　There　was　a　brand…new　Yale　padlock　dangling　from　the　trapdoor。　The　lock　Jack　Torrance　had　clipped　around　the　hasp　after　laying　his　traps；　just　in　case　his　son　should　take　the　notion　into　his　head　to　go　exploring　up　there　someday。
　　Locked。　Terror　swept　him。
　　Behind　him　it　was　ing；　blundering　and　staggering　past　the　Presidential　Suite；　the　mallet　whistling　viciously　through　the　air。
　　Danny　backed　up　against　the　last　closed　door　and　waited　for　it。
　　　
　　　》
　　THAT　WHICH　WAS　FORGOTTEN
　　
　　Wendy　came　to　a　little　at　a　time；　the　grayness　draining　away；　pain　replacing　it：　her　back；　her　leg；　her　side　。　。　。　she　didn't　think　she　would　be　able　to　move。　Even　her　fingers　hurt；　and　at　first　she　didn't　know　why。
　　（The　razor　blade；　that's　why。）　Her　blond　hair；　now　dank　and　matted；　hung　in　her　eyes。　She　brushed　it　away　and　her　ribs　stabbed　inside；　making　her　groan。　Now　she　saw　a　field　of　blue　and　white　mattress；　spotted　with　blood。　Her　blood；　or　maybe　Jack's。　Either　way　it　was　still　fresh。　She　hadn't　been　out　long。　And　that　was　important　because…　（？Why？）　Because…　It　was　the　insectile；　buzzing　sound　of　the　motor　that　she　remembered　first。
　　For　a　moment　she　fixed　stupidly　on　the　memory；　and　then　in　a　single　vertiginous　and　nauseating　swoop；　her　mind　seemed　to　pan　back；　showing　her　everything　at　once。
　　Hallorann。　It　must　have　been　Hallorann。　Why　else　would　Jack　have　left　so　suddenly；　without　finishing　it　。　。　；　without　finishing　her？
　　Because　he　was　no　longer　at　leisure。　He　had　to　find　Danny　quickly　and　。　。　。
　　and　do　it　before　Hallorann　could　put　a　stop　to　it。
　　Or　had　it　happened　already？
　　She　could　hear　the　whine　of　the　elevator　rising　up　the　shaft。
　　（No　God　please　no　the　blood　the　blood's　still　fresh　don't　let　it　have　happened　already）　Somehow　she　was　able　to　find　her　feet　and　stagger　through　the　bedroom　and　across　the　ruins　of　the　living　room　to　the　shattered　front　door。　She　pushed　it　open　and　made　it　out　into　the　hall。
　　〃Danny！〃　she　cried；　wincing　at　the　pain　in　her　chest。　〃Mr。　Hallorann！　Is　anybody　there？　Anybody？〃　The　elevator　had　been　running　again　and　now　it　came　to　a　stop。　She　heard　the　metallic　crash　of　the　gate　being　thrown　back　and　then　thought　she　heard　a　speaking　voice。　It　might　have　been　her　imagination。　The　wind　was　too　loud　to　really　be　able　to　tell。
　　Leaning　against　the　wall；　she　made　her　way　up　to　the　corner　of　the　short　hallway。　She　was　about　to　turn　the　corner　when　the　scream　froze　her；　floating　down　the　stairwell　and　the　elevator　shaft：
　　〃Danny！　e　here；　you　pup！　e　here　aced　take　it　like　a　man！〃　Jack。　On　the　second　or　third　floor。　Looking　for　Danny。
　　She　got　around　the　corner；　stumbled；　almost　fell。　Her　breath　caught　in　her　throat。　Something　（someone？）　huddled　against　the　wall　about　a　quarter　of　the　way　down　from　the　stairwell。
　　She　began　to　hurry　faster；　wincing　every　time　her　weight　came　down　on　her　hurt　leg。　It　was　a　man；　she　saw；　and　as　she　drew　closer；　she　understood　the　meaning　of　that　buzzing　motor。
　　It　was　Mr。　Hallorann。　He　had　e　after　all。
　　She　eased　to　her　knees　beside　him；　offering　up　an　incoherent　prayer　that　he　was　not　dead。　His　nose　was　bleeding；　and　a　terrible　gout　of　blood　had　spilled　out　of　his　mouth。　The　side　of　his　face　was　a　puffed　purple　bruise。　But　he　was　breathing；　thank　God　for　that。　It　was　ing　in　long；　harsh　draws　that　shook　his　whole　frame。
　　Looking　at　him　more　closely；　Wendy's　eyes　widened。　One　arm　of　the　parka　he　was　wearing　was　blackened　and　singed。　One　side　of　it　had　been　ripped　open。　There　was　blood　in　his　hair　and　a　shallow　but　ugly　scratch　down　the　back　of　his　neck。
　　（My　God；　what's　happened　to　him？）
　　〃Danny！〃　the　hoarse；　petulant　voice　roared　from　above　them。　〃Get　out　here；　goddammit！〃　There　was　no　time　to　wonder　about　it　now。　She　began　to　shake　him；　her　face　twisting　at　the　flare　of　agony　in　her　ribs。　Her　side　felt　hot　and　massive　and　swollen。
　　（What　if　they're　poking　my　lung　whenever　I　move？）　There　was　no　help　for　that；　either。　If　Jack　found　Danny；　he　would　kill　him；　beat　him　to　death　with　that　mallet　as　he　had　tried　to　do　to　her。
　　So　she　shook　Hallorann；　and　then　began　to　slap　the　unbruised　side　of　his　face　lightly。
　　〃Wake　up；〃　she　said。　〃Mr。　Hallorann；　you've　got　to　wake　up。　Please　。　。　。
　　please　。　。　。〃　From　overhead；　the　restless　booming　sounds　of　the　mallet　as　Jack　Torrance　looked　for　his　son。
　　
　　*　　*　　*
　　
　　Danny　stood　with　his　back　against　the　door；　looking　at　the　right　angle　where　the　hallways　joined。　The　steady；　irregular　booming　sound　of　the　mallet　against　the　walls　grew　louder。　The　thing　that　was　after　him　screamed　and　howled　and　cursed。　Dream　and　reality　had　joined　together　without　a　seam。
　　It　came　around　the　corner。
　　In　a　way；　what　Danny　felt　was　relief。　It　was　not　his　father。　The　mask　of　face　and　body　had　been　ripped　and　shredded　and　made　into　a　bad　joke。　It　was　not　his　daddy；　not　this　Saturday　Night　Shock　Show　horror　with　its　rolling　eyes　and　hunched　and　hulking　shoulders　and　blood…drenched　shirt。　It　was　not　his　daddy。
　　〃Now；　by　God；〃　it　breathed。　It　wiped　its　lips　with　a　shaking　hand。　〃Now　you'll　find　out　who　is　the　boss　around　here。　You'll　see。　It's　not　you　they　want。　It's　me。　Me。　Me！〃　It　slashed　out　with　the　scarred　hammer；　its　double　head　now　shapeless　and　splintered　with　countless　impacts。　It　struck　the　wall；　cutting　a　circle　in　the　silk　paper。　Plaster　dust　puffed　out。　It　began　to　grin。
　　〃Let's　see　you　pull　any　of　your　fancy　tricks　now；〃　it　muttered。　〃I　wasn't　born　yesterday；　you　know。　Didn't　just　fall　off　the　hay　truck；　by　God。　I'm　going　to　do　my　fatherly　duty　by　you；　boy。〃　Danny　said：　〃You're　not　my　daddy。〃　It　stopped。　For　a　moment　it　actually　looked　uncertain；　as　if　not　sure　who　or　what　it　was。　Then　it　began　to　walk　again。　The　hammer　whistled　out；　struck　a　door　panel　and　made　it　boom　hollowly。