gns.throwback-第22节

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　　Within　an　hour　the　trailer　was　full　of　neatly　sawn　cylindrical　birch　trunk。　He　climbed　back　up　to　the　wheel；　started　on　the　bumpy　journey　back　home。
　　
　　If　only　Jackie　had　been　there　awaiting　him。
　　
　　He　was　starting　to　get　depressed；　a　gradual　erosion　of　his　positive　thinking。　That　stemmed　from　spending　too　much　time　alone。　Maybe　Sylvia　was　right；　they　had　to　go　and　find　other　survivors；　//there　were　any　others。　There　had　to　be。
　　
　　He　backed　into　the　yard；　tipped　the　trailer；　watched　the　logs　showering　out；　bumping　into　a　sprawling　heap；　one　or　two　bowling　away　as　though　they　sought　to　escape　the　splitting　axe　and　the　Rayburn。　Now　it　was　time　to　go　back　to　the　wood　again　and　。　。　。
　　
　　'Jon！'　Sylvia　appeared　in　the　doorway　and　his　first　glance　told　him　that　something　was　wrong。　Her　features　were　whiter　than　usual　and　she　glanced　continually　about　her；　'Jon；　there's　been　somebody　here！'
　　
　　'What！　Who？'　His　mouth　went　dry　and　the　sweat　inside　his　T…shirt　was　suddenly　cold。　'What　on　earth　are　you　talking　about？'
　　
　　'There　was　somebody　here　about　a　quarter　of　an　hour　ago。'
　　
　　'Yes；　but　who？　A　man？　A　woman？'
　　
　　'I　。。。　I　didn't　see　them。'
　　
　　He　closed　his　eyes　momentarily；　almost　yelled　'Then　how　the　fuck　did　you　know　they　were　here？'　Instead　he　spoke　calmly；　knew　he　had　to　reassure　her。　'How　do　you　know　then？'
　　
　　'I　heard　them。　They　went　in　the　shed　over　there；　rummaged　around；　then　came　out　again　and　left　the　door　swinging　open；　just　like　it　is　now。'
　　
　　He　turned；　saw　that　she　spoke　the　truth。　He　knew　the　door　had　been　closed　when　he　left　because　he　had　fetched　the　chainsaw　out　of　there　before　breakfast　and　had　replaced　the　stout　gate…hook　in　the　'eye'。　It　fitted　tight；　too　tight；　so　that　more　often　than　not　you　had　to　jerk　it　free　to　open　the　door。　It　was　beyond　anything　other　than　a　human　being　to　open　it。
　　
　　The　shed　was　not　in　full　view　of　the　cottage　windows；　a　bare　stone　wall　facing　in　this　direction。　Without　going　outside　Sylvia　would　not　have　been　able　to　see　whoever　had　been　in　the　shed　and　。　。　。
　　
　　'Christ！'　He　saw　the　debris　on　the　floor；　the　spilled　contents　of　his　workbench；　boxes　of　screws；　nuts；　nails　scattered　over　the　whole　floor　so　that　they　overflowed　out　into　the　yard。　'Some　bugger's　been　stealing　my　tools。'
　　
　　Jon　Quinn　had　a　tidy　mind；　Jackie　used　to　call　him　obsessional。　If　you　put　everything　back　where　you　got　it　from　as　soon　as　you've　finished　with　it；　you'll　know　where　to　find　it　next　time；　he　used　to　tell　her。　Consequently；　within　a　couple　of　minutes　he　knew　which　of　his　tools　were　gone；　a　process　of　elimination　from　those　still　hanging　from　the　nails　above　the　bench。　Two　screwdrivers；　a　hammer；　a　hacksaw；　a　chisel。　。　。　The　Black　and　Decker　toolset　Jackie　had　given　him　for　Christmas　was　still　there；　so　was　his　spare　chainsaw。　It　didn't　add　up。　Or　did　it？
　　
　　'A　thief；'　Sylvia's　tone　was　low　and　frightened。
　　
　　'It　looks　that　way；'　he　muttered。　And　everything　they've　stolen　is　something　that　could　be　used　as　a　weapon。　In　addition　to　that　it　means　that　they've　now　found　us；　they　know　exactly　where　we're　holed　up。'
　　
　　'I　heard　somebody　in　the　shed　so　I　locked　the　door。'　She　clung　on　to　his　arm。　'I　didn't　dare　go　out　to　look。'
　　
　　'Just　as　well；'　he　answered。　Because　if　you　had　you'd　probably　be　dead　now　like　Gilbert　in　the　wood。　'We've　got　to　keep　a　watchful　eye　out；'　Trite；　an　understatement。　If　you're　not　on　the　alert　the　whole　time　you're　likely　to　end　up　dead；　just　like　Gwyther　would　have　killed　me。
　　
　　He　kicked　the　nails　and　screws　back　inside；　closed　the　door　and　flipped　the　hook　back　into　place。　'I'm　not　going　to　bother　getting　any　more　wood　today；　I've　got　a　pretty　good　load。'
　　
　　'Shall　we　go　into　the　village　this　afternoon　then？'　'I'm　just　too　bloody　knackered。'　He　squeezed　her　hand；　wondered　if　he'd　have　to　e　up　with　an　additional　excuse　but　she　did　not　press　the　point。　Possibly　she　was　not　as　anxious　to　make　contact　with　others　now　that　there　had　been　a　prowler　in　the　yard。　'Let's　have　something　to　eat　and　then　I'll　try　and　think　of　a　way　of　catching　those　goats　and　bringing　them　down　here　to　the　goat…house。'
　　
　　'I　wonder　who　it　was；'　she　said　as　they　went　inside。　'Gwyther？'
　　
　　Christ　no；　but　maybe　it's　a　good　job　you　didn't　set　eyes　on　him　if　it　was　anybody　like　old　Bill。　'It　could　have　been　just　anybody；'　he　replied　casually。　'Like　I　said　before；　there　are　bound　to　be　bands　of　vagrants　roaming　the　countryside　after　a　holocaust　of　this　nature　and　well　do　well　to　keep　out　of　their　way；　not　advertise　our　presence。'
　　
　　But　he　knew　Sylvia　wouldn't　be　satisfied　until　they　had　been　to　the　village。　Sooner　or　later　she　was　going　to　have　to　witness　for　herself　what　the　terrible　micro…organisms　had　done　to　humanity；　see　these　throwbacks　with　her　own　eyes。
　　
　　Rounding　up　the　nanny　goats　was　a　paratively　simple　operation；　an　idea　that　Jon　Quinn　had　hit　upon　whilst　they　ate　a　salad　lunch。　For　once　Sylvia　did　not　plain　about　a　plateful　of　sprouted　seed　salad　and　some　hard　goat　cheese。　A　cheese　that　Jackie　had　made；　on　occasions　Jon　had　difficulty　in　swallowing。
　　
　　*I　want　you　to　help　me　this　afternoon；'　he　said；　putting　his　plate　in　the　sink；　noting　at　the　same　time　that　she　had　not　yet　washed　up　the　breakfast　dishes。
　　
　　'How？'　She　tensed；　was　already　thinking　up　a　feasible　reason　to　refuse。
　　
　　'Well；　our　priority　is　to　get　the　goats　down　into　the　shed　in　the　yard　so　that　they　can　be　milked；'　he　said。　The　kids　will　be　a　lot　easier　to　catch　than　the　goals　and　where　the　kids　go；　their　mothers　will　follow。　Get　me？'
　　
　　'I　see。'　She　pursed　her　lips　and　a　worried　frown　creased　her　forehead。　'But　suppose　that　billy　。　。　。'
　　
　　'I　don't　think　he'll　trouble　us；'　Jon　told　her。　'I　reckon　he's　gone　off　into　the　woods；　myself。'
　　
　　Within　the　hour　all　the　goats　were　safely　shut　in　the　shed　by　the　house。　The　young　kids　had　shown　no　fear　of　the　approaching　humans　even　though　their　mothers　kept　their　distance；　had　e　skipping　towards　Jon　and　Sylvia。　They　had　been　grabbed；　carried　home；　the　nannies　following　reluctantly。　Just　as　Jon　had　said；　they　would　not　desert　their　offspring。
　　
　　Now　he　leaned　on　the　stable　door　studying　the　animals　at　close　quarters。　Certainly　they　had　undergone　a　change；　the　white　Saanen　hair　growing　long　and　coarse；　restlessly　pacing　quarters　which　had　once　been　familiar　but　now　they　appeared　not　to　recognise　their　surroundings。　They　eyed　Jon　Quinn　with　distrust；　no　spark　of　memory　showing　in　their　eyes。　Distrust。　Milking　them　wasn't　going　to　be　easy　but　he　consoled　himself　that　he　had　successfully　got　them　down　here。　He　was　anxious　about　the　calves　now。　Gwyther's　dog　。　。　。　no；　one　dog　alone　could　not　have　killed　and　eaten　Gilbert　like　that；　the　billy　was　strong　and　vicious；　as　dangerous　as　a　bull　when　he　was　angered。　It　would　take　more　than　one　canine　predator　to　do　that。
　　
　　The　electricity　was　gone　now　so　they　had　to　resort　to　candles　for　indoor　lighting；　small　flickering　flames　casting　dancing　yellow　light；　creating　shadows　that　hovered　in　the　corners　of　the　rooms　and　could　have　hidden　anything　depending　upon　how　far　you　let　your　imagination　run　riot。　'We　may　as　well　go　to　bed；'　Jon　said。　'There　are　some　old　oil…lamps　out　in　the　shed　somewhere。　I'll　hunt　them　out　tomorrow　and　you　can　have　a　go　at　cleaning　them　up。　Then　we'll　have　to　get　some　paraffin　from　somewhere。'　From　the　village　garage。　Tomorrow。
　　
　　Sleeping　in　the　same　bed　as　Sylvia　was　being　a　strained　affair。　Only　a　few　weeks　ago；　Jon　reflected；　it　had　been　exciting；　erotic。　That　was　because　they　hadn't　gone　to　bed　to　sleep；　the　difference　again　between　wife　and　mistress。　You　stripped　off；　made　love；　got　dressed　again　and　went　your　own　separate　ways；　back　to　another　way　of　life。　Just　a　sexual　relationship　and　now　it　was　falling　apart　because　something　more　was　being　asked　of　it。
　　
　　He　tried　not　to　watch　her　undress　because　that　in　itself　was　a　rejection　of　himself；　the　way　she　pulled　her　nightdress　on　before　she　slid　her　pants　off；　her　back　towards　him；　easier　by　candlelight　than　by　the　harsh　glare　of　an　electric　bulb。　He　found　his　own　reactions　the　same；　pulling　his　pyjama　trousers　on　under　the　protective　shield　of　his　shirt。　Strangers；　that　was　what　it　amounted　to。　Under　the　same　roof　the　chemistry　didn't　mix。　They　would　have　to　work　at　it　because　they　didn't　have　any　choice；　no　marital　partners　to　go　back　to；　no　way　they　could　split　up。　They　would　have　to　talk　it　over　but　not　tonight　because　they　were　too　tired。
　　
　　He　knew　what　was　on　her　mind；　that　prowler。　Thank　Christ　she　hadn't　set　eyes　on　him。　If　he　was　anything　like　Gwyther　she　would　have　had　hysterics。　Jon　couldn't　get　Gilbert　off　his　mind；　found　himself　visualising　the　fight　to　the　death；　wild　shaggy　dogs　circling　warily；　snarling　and　slobbering；　then　bunching　for　the　final　kill。
　　
　　'I　can't　stand　much　more　of　this；'　she　whispered　out　of　the　darkness；　lying　facing　away　from　him。　'Every　day　brings　new　terrors。'
　　
　　'I　guess　it's　the　same　for　everybody　else　maybe　the　whole　world　over；'　he　answered。　'You　j