dk.solesurvivor-第70节

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　　Smoke　plagued　him　now。　As　the　blaze　rapidly　intensified；　it　generated　winds　of　its　own；　adding　to　the　force　of　the　Santa　Anas；　building　toward　a　firestorm；　and　the　blistering　gales　first　blew　tatters　of　smoke　along　the　deer　trail　and　then　choking　masses。
　　The　cloistered　path　led　upward；　and　though　the　degree　of　slope　was　not　great；　Joe　became　more　quickly　winded　than　he　had　expected。　Incredible　withering　heat　wrung　oceans　of　sweat　from　him。　Gasping　for　breath；　sucking　in　the　astringent　fumes　and　greasy　soot；　choking；　gagging；　spitting　out　saliva　thickened　and　soured　by　the　flavour　of　the　fire；　desperately　holding　onto　Nina；　he　reached　a　ridgeline。
　　The　pistol　under　his　waistband　pressed　painfully　against　his　stomach　as　he　ran。　If　he　could　have　let　go　of　Nina　with　one　hand；　he　would　have　drawn　the　weapon　and　thrown　it　away。　He　was　afraid　that　he　was　too　weak　to　hold　onto　her　with　one　arm；　that　he　would　drop　her；　so　he　endured　the　gouging　steel。
　　As　he　crossed　the　narrow　crest　and　followed　the　descending　trail；　he　discovered　that　the　wind　was　less　furious　on　this　side　of　the　ridge。　Even　though　the　flames　surged　across　the　brow；　the　speed　at　which　the　fire　line　advanced　now　dropped　enough　to　allow　him　to　get　out　of　the　incendiary　zone　and　ahead　of　the　smoke；　where　the　clean　air　was　so　sweet　that　he　groaned　at　the　cool；　clear　taste　of　it。
　　Joe　was　running　on　an　adrenaline　high；　far　beyond　his　normal　level　of　endurance；　and　if　not　for　the　bolstering　effect　of　panic；　he　might　have　collapsed　before　he　topped　the　ridge。　His　leg　muscles　ached。　His　arms　were　turning　to　lead　under　the　weight　of　the　girl。　They　were　not　safe；　however；　so　he　kept　going；　stumbling　and　weaving；　blinking　tears　of　weariness　out　of　his　smoke…stung　eyes；　nevertheless　pressing　steadily　forward…until　the　snarling　coyote　slammed　into　him　from　behind；　biting　savagely　at　the　hollow　of　his　back　but　capturing　only　folds　of　his　corduroy　jacket　in　its　jaws。
　　The　impact　staggered　him；　eighty　or　ninety　pounds　of　lupine　fury。　He　almost　fell　facedown　onto　the　trail；　with　Nina　under　him；　except　that　the　weight　of　the　coyote；　hanging　on　him；　acted　as　a　counterbalance；　and　he　stayed　erect。
　　The　jacket　ripped；　and　the　coyote　let　go；　fell　away。
　　Joe　skidded　to　a　halt；　put　Nina　down；　spun　toward　the　predator；　drawing　the　pistol　from　his　waistband；　thankful　that　he　had　not　pitched　it　away　earlier。
　　Back　lighted　by　the　ridgeline　fire；　the　coyote　confronted　Joe。　It　was　so　like　a　wolf　but　leaner；　rangier；　with　bigger　ears　and　a　narrower　muzzle；　black　lips　skinned　back　from　bared　fangs；　scarier　than　a　wolf　might　have　been；　especially　because　of　the　spirit　of　the　vicious　boy　curled　like　a　serpent　in　its　skull。　Its　glowering　eyes　were　luminous　and　yellow。
　　Joe　pulled　the　trigger；　but　the　gun　didn't　fire。　He　remembered　the　safety。
　　The　coyote　skittered　toward　him；　staying　low；　quick　but　wary；　snapping　at　his　ankles；　and　Joe　danced　frantically　backward　to　avoid　being　bitten；　thumbing　off　the　safety　as　he　went。
　　The　animal　snaked　around　him；　snarling；　snapping；　foam　flying　from　its　jaws。　Its　teeth　sank　into　his　right　calf。
　　He　cried　out　in　pain；　and　twisted　around；　trying　to　get　a　shot　at　the　damn　thing；　but　it　turned　as　he　did；　ferociously　worrying　the　flesh　of　his　calf　until　he　thought　he　was　going　to　pass　out　from　the　crackling　pain　that　flashed　like　a　series　of　electrical　shocks　all　the　way　up　his　leg　into　his　hip。
　　Abruptly　the　coyote　let　go　and　shrank　away　from　Joe　as　if　in　fear　and　confusion。
　　Joe　swung　toward　the　animal；　cursing　it　and　tracking　it　with　the　pistol。
　　The　beast　was　no　longer　in　an　attack　mode。　It　whined　and　surveyed　the　surrounding　night　in　evident　perplexity。
　　With　his　finger　on　the　trigger；　Joe　hesitated。
　　Tilting　its　head　back；　regarding　the　lambent　moon；　the　coyote　whined　again。　Then　it　looked　toward　the　top　of　the　ridge。
　　The　fire　was　no　more　than　a　hundred　yards　away。　The　scorching　wind　suddenly　accelerated；　and　the　flames　climbed　gusts　higher　into　the　night。
　　The　coyote　stiffened　and　pricked　its　ears。　When　the　fire　surged　once　more；　the　coyote　bolted　past　Joe　and　Nina；　oblivious　of　them；　and　disappeared　at　a　lope　into　the　canyon　below。
　　At　last　defeated　by　the　draining　vastness　of　these　open　spaces；　the　boy　had　lost　his　grip　on　the　animal　and　Joe　sensed　that　nothing　spectral　hovered　any　longer　in　the　woods。
　　The　firestorm　rolled　at　them　again；　blinding　waves　of　flames；　a　cataclysmic　tide　breaking　through　the　forest。
　　With　his　bitten　leg；　limping　badly；　Joe　wasn't　able　to　carry　Nina　any　longer；　but　she　took　his　hand；　and　they　hurried　as　best　they　could　toward　the　primeval　darkness　that　seemed　to　well　out　of　the　ground　and　drown　the　ranks　of　conifers　in　the　lower　depths　of　the　canyon。
　　He　hoped　they　could　find　a　road。　Paved　or　gravelled　or　dirt…it　didn't　matter。　Just　a　way　out；　any　sort　of　road　at　all；　as　long　as　it　led　away　from　the　fire　and　would　take　them　into　a　future　where　Nina　would　be　safe。
　　They　had　gone　no　more　than　two　hundred　yards　when　a　thunder　rose　behind　them；　and　when　he　turned；　fearful　of　another　attack；　Joe　saw　only　a　herd　of　deer　galloping　toward　them；　fleeing　the　flames。　Ten；　twenty；　thirty　deer；　graceful　and　swift；　parted　around　him　and　Nina　with　a　thudding　of　hooves；　ears　pricked　and　alert；　oil…black　eyes　as　shiny　as　mirrors；　spotted　flanks　quivering；　kicking　up　clouds　of　pale　dust；　whickering　and　snorting；　and　then　they　were　gone。
　　Heart　pounding；　caught　up　in　a　riot　of　emotions　that　he　could　not　easily　sort　out；　still　holding　the　girl's　hand；　Joe　started　down　the　trail　in　the　hoof　prints　of　the　deer。　He　took　half　a　dozen　steps　before　he　realized　there　was　no　pain　in　his　bitten　calf。　No　pain；　either；　in　his　hawk…pecked　hand　or　in　his　beak…torn　face。　He　was　no　longer　bleeding
　　Along　the　way　and　in　the　tumult　of　the　deers'　passing；　Nina　had　healed　him。
　　
　　　6
　　On　the　second　anniversary　of　the　crash　of　Nationwide　Flight　353；　Joe　Carpenter　sat　on　a　quiet　beach　in　Florida；　in　the　shade　of　a　palm　tree；　watching　the　sea。　Here；　the　tides　came　to　shore　more　gently　than　in　California；　licking　the　sand　with　a　tropical　languor；　and　the　ocean　seemed　not　at　all　like　a　machine。
　　He　was　a　different　man　from　the　one　who　had　fled　the　fire　in　the　San　Bernardino　Mountains。　His　hair　was　longer　now；　bleached　both　by　chemicals　and　by　the　sun。　He　had　grown　a　moustache　as　a　simple　disguise。　His　physical　awareness　of　himself　was　far　greater　than　it　had　been　one　year　ago；　so　he　was　conscious　of　how　differently　he　moved　these　days：　with　a　new　ease；　with　a　relaxed　grace；　without　the　tension　and　the　coiled　anger　of　the　past。
　　He　possessed　ID　in　a　new　name：　birth　certificate；　social　security　card；　three　major　credit　cards；　a　driver's　license。　The　forgers　at　Infiniface　didn't　actually　forge　documents　as　much　as　use　their　puter　savvy　to　manipulate　the　system　into　spitting　out　real　papers　for　people　who　didn't　exist。
　　He　had　undergone　inner　changes　too；　and　he　credited　those　to　Nina…though　he　continued　to　refuse　the　ultimate　gift　that　she　could　give　him。　She　had　changed　him　not　by　her　touch　but　by　her　example；　by　her　sweetness　and　kindness；　by　her　trust　in　him；　by　her　love　of　life　and　her　love　of　him　and　her　calm　faith　in　the　rightness　of　all　things。　She　was　only　six　years　old　but　in　some　ways　ancient；　because　if　she　was　what　everyone　believed　she　was；　then　she　was　tied　to　the　infinite　by　an　umbilical　of　light。
　　They　were　staying　with　a　mune　of　Infiniface　members；　those　who　wore　no　robes　and　left　their　heads　unshaven。　The　big　house　stood　back　from　the　beach　and　was　filled　at　almost　any　hour　of　the　day　with　the　soft　clatter　of　puter　keyboards。　In　a　week　or　two；　Joe　and　Nina　would　move　on　to　another　group；　bringing　them　the　gift　that　only　this　child　could　reveal；　for　they　travelled　continuously　in　the　quiet　spreading　of　the　word。　In　a　few　years；　when　her　maturing　power　made　her　less　vulnerable；　the　time　would　arrive　to　tell　the　world。
　　Now；　on　this　anniversary　of　loss；　she　came　to　him　on　the　beach；　under　the　gently　swaying　palm；　as　he　had　known　she　would；　and　she　sat　at　his　side。　Currently　her　hair　was　brown。　She　was　wearing　pink　shorts　and　a　white　top　with　Donald　Duck　winking　on　her　chest…as　ordinary　in　appearance　as　any　six…year…old　on　the　planet。　She　drew　her　knees　up　and　encircled　her　legs　with　her　arms；　and　for　a　while　she　said　nothing。
　　They　watched　a　big；　long…legged　sand　crab　move　across　the　beach；　select　a　nesting　place；　and　burrow　out　of　sight。
　　Finally　she　said；　'Why　won't　you　open　your　heart？'
　　'I　will。　When　the　time's　right。'
　　'When　will　the　time　be　right？'
　　'When　I　learn　not　to　hate。'
　　'Who　do　you　hate？'
　　'For　a　long　time…you。'
　　'Because　I'm　not　your　Nina。'
　　'I　don't　hate　you　any　more。'
　　'I　know。'
　　'I　hate　myself。'
　　'Why？'
　　'For　being　so　afraid。'
　　'You're　not　afraid　of　anything；'　she　said。
　　He　smiled。　'Scared　to　death　of　what　you　can　show　me。'
　　'Why？'
　　'The　world's　so　cruel。　It's　so　hard。　If　there's　a　God；　He　tortured　my　father　with　disease　and　then　took　him　young。　He　took　Michelle；　my　Chrissie；　my　Nina。　He　allowed　Rose　to　die。'
　　'This　is　a　passage。'
　　'A　damn　vicious