pzb.drawingblood-第58章

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alive。　And　it　was　by　his　own　hand：　he　had　chosen　to　be　with　Zach；　had　chosen　to　eat　mushrooms　and　go　to　Birdland；　had　sought　out　the　house　and　turned　the　knob　and　walked　in　on　Bobby's　eternity。　They　were　all　choices　he　had　made。　It　was　up　to　him。
　　Zach　opened　the　bathroom　door　and　pulled　him　into　the　hall。　The　house　was　full　of　a　clear；　still　blue　light。　The　night　was　over。
　　Trevor　looked　down　into　Zach's　ill…used；　blood…smeared；　weary　face。　J　choose　you；　he　thought；　but　I　can't　believe　you　still　want　me。
　　They　stumbled　into　the　bedroom　and　sat　on　the　edge　of　the　bed。　Zach　found　his　glasses　unharmed　on　the　floor　and　put　them　back　on。　Trevor　saw　the　gouge　in　the　opposite　wall　where　he　had　tried　to　hit　Zach；　saw　the　bloodied　hammer　in　the　corner。　He　stroked　Zach's　hair　with　his　good　hand；　kissed　his　eyelids；　his　forehead。　He　hoped　an　electrical　current　would　have　run　up　his　arm　and　shocked　him　to　death　if　he　had　violated　this　wondrous　brain。
　　Zach　leaned　against　him。　His　head　lay　heavy　on　Trevor's　shoulder。　〃I　need　to　get　out　of　here；〃　he　whispered。
　　〃Okay。　Where　will　we　go？〃
　　〃I　don't　know。〃　Gingerly；　Zach　touched　Trevor's　right　hand；　which　he　was　cradling　in　his　lap　trying　to　keep　still。　〃This　looks　bad。　You　need　to　get　it　set。　And　I　think　I　might　have　a　concussion。〃
　　〃Oh　。　。　。　Zach　。　。　。〃
　　〃You　didn't　do　it。　My　dad　did。〃
　　〃Your　dad？〃
　　〃Yeah。　Look；　we　have　to　talk；　but　I　can't　right　now。　I　feel　like　I'm　gonna　pass　out。　We　need　a　hospital。〃
　　〃The　closest　one's　twenty　miles　away。　Can　you　call　Kinsey　on　your　cellular　phone？〃
　　〃His　home　phone's　cut　off。　I　heard　him　say　so　last　night　。　。　。〃　Zach　trailed　off。　His　eyes　were　half…closed　now；　his　breathing　quick　and　shallow。　His　skin　felt　cool；　slightly　damp。
　　〃Can　you　drive？〃
　　Zach　shook　his　head。
　　〃But　your　car　has　a　stick　shift。〃
　　〃I　know。　I'll　shift　for　you　if　I　can　stay　awake。　If　I　can't；　it's　gonna　hurt　you　like　hell；　and　I'm　sorry。　But　I　can't　even　see　straight。　I'd　run　us　right　off　the　road。〃
　　〃All　right；　then。〃　Trevor　tried　to　flex　his　hand。　Great　bolts　of　pain　shot　up　his　arm。　The　two　middle　ringers　were　stiff；　swollen　shiny；　suffused　with　blood。　The　skin　felt　as　tight　and　unfortable　as　an　ill…fitting　glove。　His　knuckles　were　so　badly　abraded　that　he　thought　he　could　see　a　pale　glimmer　of　bone　beneath　all　the　red；　though　he　didn't　look　too　closely。
　　I　can't　hold　a　pencil　with　that；　he　thought。　But　he　was　too　worried　about　Zach　to　care　much。
　　Zach　helped　Trevor　dress；　tugged　his　sneakers　on　and　tied　them　for　him。　Trevor　felt　the　linings　tugging　at　the　cuts　on　his　feet；　blood　soaking　into　the　soles。　Then　Zach　dressed　himself　and　helped　gather　their　belongings。　Trevor　took　nothing　but　his　Walkman；　his　tapes；　and　his　clothes。　If　his　hand　healed；　he　would　get　new　pens　and　sketchbooks　later。　He　couldn't　imagine　using　the　old　ones　again。
　　After　some　consideration；　he　held　a　match　to　the　envelope　containing　his　family's　autopsy　reports　and　burned　them　in　the　kitchen　sink。　It　felt　a　little　like　smashing　his　hand　had　felt。　But　he　thought　they　belonged　here。
　　He　helped　Zach　out　through　the　living　room；　half　holding　him　up　as　Zach　carried　both　bags。　The　air　was　thick　as　syrup；　sucking　at　Trevor's　legs；　pulling　at　his　feet。　You　could　stay；　it　whispered。　There　is　a　place　for　you　forever；　here　in　Birdland。
　　But　Trevor　would　not　listen。　It　was　only　one　of　a　million　possible　places；　and　it　wasn't　the　one　he　wanted　anymore。
　　Zach　clung　to　him　until　they　were　out　of　the　house　and　off　the　porch。　The　sky　was　a　deep　watery　blue　streaked　with　rose。　A　few　stars　were　still　visible；　they　seemed　too　huge　and　bright；　their　glitter　too　intense。　The　whole　world　was　silent。
　　Wet　grass　brushed　their　knees　as　they　made　their　way　to　the　back　of　the　house　where　the　car　was　parked。　Trevor　helped　Zach　into　the　passenger　seat；　then　slid　in　behind　the　wheel。　Zach　fumbled　with　his　seat　belt。　Trevor　wanted　to　wear　his　too；　but　he　didn't　think　he　could　fasten　it　himself；　and　he　was　afraid　to　ask　Zach　to　lean　across　the　seat　and　help　him。　Zach　looked　sick　and　sweaty；　on　the　verge　of　blacking　out。
　　Trevor　fitted　the　key　into　the　ignition　with　his　left　hand　and　turned　it　awkwardly。　The　engine　roared　into　life。　Pain　flared　in　his　foot　as　he　stepped　on　the　clutch。　The　Mustang　began　to　roll　through　the　yard　and　down　the　overgrown　driveway。
　　〃Zach？〃
　　〃。　。　。　yeah　。　。　。〃
　　〃Put　it　in　second。〃
　　Zach　groped　for　the　shift　stick　and　pulled　it　down　into　second　gear。　The　car　picked　up　speed。　They　were　at　the　end　of　the　long　driveway　now；　turning　onto　Violin　Road。　Trevor　steered　with　his　left　hand；　braced　his　right　forearm　against　the　wheel。　He　glanced　into　the　rearview　mirror。　The　house　was　barely　visible　through　the　shroud　of　weeds　and　vines。　It　looked　like　an　empty　place。　Trevor　wondered　if　it　ever　would　be。
　　He　let　the　car　coast　down　the　rutted　gravel　road。　〃Okay；〃　he　said。　〃Put　it　in　third。〃
　　No　response。　Trevor　looked　over　at　Zach。　He　was　slumped　back　against　the　seat；　eyes　shut；　glasses　sliding　down　his　nose；　bruises　blooming　like　dark　flowers　on　his　pallid　face。
　　〃Zach！〃　he　said。　〃ZACH！〃
　　〃。　。　。　mmm　。　。　。〃
　　Trevor　slowed　the　car　to　a　crawl；　made　sure　Zach　was　breathing；　speeded　back　up　to　twenty　or　so。　If　he　rolled　through　stop　signs；　he　could　drive　all　the　way　to　Kinsey's　house　in　second　gear。　It　would　be　hell　on　the　clutch；　but　he　didn't　care。　If　anything　happened　to　Zach　now；　Trevor　might　as　well　go　right　back　into　that　house　and　nail　the　door　shut　behind　him。
　　〃Stay　awake；〃　he　told　Zach。　〃I　don't　want　you　slipping。〃
　　〃。　。　。　mmmmmm　。　。　。〃
　　〃Zach！　Sing　with　me！〃　Trevor　tried　to　think　of　a　song　whose　words　he　knew。　The　only　thing　that　came　to　mind　was　one　he　had　been　made　to　learn　at　the　Boys'　Home。　It　would　have　to　do。　〃YIPPIE　KI　YI　YO…O；〃　he　sang　loudly。　〃GIT　ALONG；　LITTLE　DOGIES！　e　on；　Zach。　Please　。。。　IT'S　YOURRRR　MISFORTUNE；　AND　NONE　OF　MY　OWWWWN　。。。〃
　　〃Yippie　。　。　。　ki　yi　yo；〃　sang　Zach　in　a　ghostly　voice；　barely　a　whisper。
　　〃GIT　ALONG；　LITTLE　DOGIES　。　。　。　c'mon；　louder　。　。　。〃
　　〃YOU　KNOW　THAT　WY…OMING　WILL　BE　YOUR　NEW　HOOOOOME；〃　they　finished　in　unison。
　　Trevor　glanced　over　at　Zach。　His　eyes　were　open；　and　there　was　a　tired　smile　on　his　face。　〃Trevor？〃　he　said。
　　〃What？〃
　　〃You're　a　lousy　singer。〃
　　〃Thanks。〃
　　〃And；　Trev？〃
　　〃What？〃
　　〃That　song　really　sucks。〃
　　〃So？〃
　　〃So　。　。　。　you　want　this　thing　in　third　gear？〃
　　〃Take　it　up　to　fourth；〃　said　Trevor；　and　pushed　the　pedals　to　the　floor。
　　
　　　
　　　Chapter　Twenty　Three
　　
　　Frank　Norton　chewed　on　a　stale　glazed　doughnut　and　regarded　the　improbable　figure　that　had　just　appeared　in　the　doorway　of　his　office。　The　kid　looked　seventeen　or　eighteen；　his　skinny　body　awkwardly　put　together　and　slightly　hunched。　Dirty　brown　ringlets　of　hair　hung　in　his　face。　The　lenses　of　his　glasses　were　as　thick　as　Coke　bottles。　His　beady　little　eyes　peered　suspiciously　through　them。
　　〃Is　Agent　Cover　here？〃　he　demanded。
　　Should've　known　he　was　looking　for　Ab；　thought　Norton。　Who　else　has　teenage　nerds　in　his　office　at　seven　in　the　morning？　〃Nope。　He　had　a　rough　time　chasin'　down　a　Chevy　pickup　yesterday　and　he's　not　in　yet。〃　The　kid　stared　blankly　at　him。　〃Can　I　help　you？〃　he　added。
　　〃My　name　is　Stefan　Duplessis。　I'm　assisting　him　with　the　Bosch　case。〃
　　Ah。　The　stoolie。　〃Sure；　Stefan。　What　can　I　do　for　you？〃
　　〃I've　found　a　very　important　clue。〃　Duplessis　held　up　a　sweat…stained　piece　of　newsprint。　〃I　think　Zach　Bosch　planted　this　article　in　the　Times…Picayune。　Furthermore；　I　think　he's　in　North　Carolina。　The　first　article　said　so；　and　this　one　does　too。　I've　even　figured　out　the　name　of　the　town！〃
　　Furthermore。　Jesus。　〃Is　that　so？〃　Norton　asked　politely。　Ab　was　really　grasping　at　straws　on　this　case。　That　hacker　was　probably　living　it　up　in　Australia　by　now。　〃Well；　Stefan；　I'm　afraid　that's　not　my　case。　You'll　have　to　leave　it　on　Agent　Cover's　desk。〃
　　〃But　I　need　to　talk　to　him　now！〃　The　last　word　was　pronounced　naaaaow；　like　the　noise　his　sister…in…law's　Siamese　made　when　Norton　pulled　its　tail。
　　〃Sorry；　kid。　You　can't。〃
　　〃Then　I'll　wait　till　he　gets　here。　This　is　too　important　to　leave　on　his　desk。〃
　　〃Suit　yourself。　There's　a　bench　in　the　hall。〃
　　Duplessis　made　his　exit　with　an　air　of　wounded　dignity。　Ab　Cover　isn't　a　Secret　Service　agent；　Norton　thought。　He's　a　goddamn　babysitter。
　　A　few　minutes　later　he　got　up　to　get　a　cup　of　coffee　and　saw　the　hacker　sitting　forlornly　on　the　hard　wooden　bench；　still　clutching　his　section　of　the　Times…Picayune。　Norton's　curiosity　got　the　better　of　him。　〃Hey；　kid；　can　I　take　a　look　at　that？〃
　　Duplessis　handed　him　the　paper。　It　was　smudged　with　the　gray　whorls　of　his　fingerprints；　and　he　had　circled　the　article　in　green　felt…tip。
　　
　　Travis　Rigaud　of　St。　Tammany　Parish　accidentally　shot　himself　while　cleaning　his　collection　of　handguns…five　different　times　with　five　different　guns；　twice　in　the　left　foot；
　　once　in　the　right　calf；　and　once　in　each　hand；　severing　two　fingers　。　。　。
　　
　　Norton　handed　it　back。　〃That's　real　nice；　Stefan。　He'll　be　happy　to　see　it。〃
　　Ab　Cover　isn't　even　a　baby　sitter；　Norton　decided　with　vast　amusement　as　he　poured　himself　a　cup　of　coffee　and　settled　back　down　with　his　doughnut。　He's　a　fucking　lunatic。
　　
　　Kinsey　Hummingbird　was　having　a　nightmare。　It　was　a　dream　he　often　had；　in　which　irate　rednecks　kept　dropping　off　decrepit；　barely　running　cars　and　pickups　at　the　Sacred　Yew；　telling　him　to　have　them　ready　by　six　o'clock　this　evening。　Kinsey　would　look　up　at　the　club's　sign　and　see　that　it　had　been　repainted　to　read　s。　YEW　GARAGE　&　AUTO　PARTS。
　　Someone　was　leaning　rudely　on　a　car　horn　now；　demanding　service。　WHOOOOOONKH！　WHOOOOOOOOOONKH！　The　sound　blared　loud　and　long　through　his　bedroom。　Kinsey　opened　his　eyes。　It　was　just　getting　light　outside；　and　he　thought　he　could　still　hear　the　horn。　The　sound　had　never　carried　on　after　he　was　awake　before。　Perhaps　he　was　going　slowly　insane　from　overwork。
　　No。　Well；　maybe；　but　someone　was　blowing　a　horn　outside。　It　sounded　again；　sharp　and　clear　in　the　hush　of　dawn。　Kinsey　sat　up　and　twitched　the　curtain　aside；　peered　out　the　window　above　his　bed。　He　saw　Zach's　black　Mustang　in　the　yard；　wheels　cutting　deep　swaths　through　the　unmowed　grass。
　　Kinsey　slipped　his　bathrobe　on　over　his　pajamas　and　hurried　through　the　blue…lit　house。　He　realized　too　late　that　he　had　forgotten　his　slippers；　let　himself　out　the　front　door；　and　crossed　the　soggy　yard　to　the　car。　Trevor　was　behind　the　wheel；　his　face　drawn　with　exhaustion　and　pain。　He　finally　looked　his　age；　Kinsey　thought；　perhaps　even　older。　…　Beside　him；　Zach　was　alternately　pulling　at　his　own　hair　and　beating　his　hands　on　his　knees。　His　face　was　a　bruised；　bloody　mess。　Kinsey　saw　crisscrossing　stripes　of　blood　beginning　to　soak　through　the　cloth　of　his　shirt；　adding　random　touches　of　gore　to　the　exploding　Kennedy　head　already　printed　on　it。
　　〃I'm　keeping　myself　awake；〃　Zach　said　when　he　saw　Kinsey　looking　in　at　him。　〃I　have　a　head　injury。　We　kinda　could　use　some　help。〃
　　〃What　happened？〃
　　〃Could　we　tell　you　on　the　way　to　a　hospital？〃　said　Trevor。　He　held　up　his　ri