dk.intensity-第49章

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　She　was　still　handcuffed；　however；　and　she　could　not　hold　the　drill　one…handed　while　she　bored　out　the　lock　on　each　manacle。　But　she　already　had　an　idea　about　how　she　might　extricate　her　hands。
　Although　other　challenges　faced　her　in　addition　to　the　manacles；　although　escape　was　by　no　means　assured；　jubilation　swelled　in　Chyna　as　she　climbed　the　cellar　steps。　She　went　tread　over　tread；　not　one　step　at　a　time　as　the　shackles　had　required；　bounding　up　the　stairs　in　spite　of　her　weakness　and　the　tremors　in　her　muscles；　without　even　using　the　handrail；　to　the　landing；　into　the　laundry　room；　past　the　washer　and　dryer。　And　there　she　abruptly　halted　with　her　hands　on　the　knob　of　the　closed　door；　remembering　how　she　had　raced　along　this　same　route　and　into　the　kitchen　this　morning；　reassured　by　the　tatta…tatta…tatta　of　the　vibrating　water　pipe　in　the　wall；　only　to　be　blindsided　by　Vess。
　She　stood　at　the　threshold　until　her　breathing　quieted；　but　she　was　unable　to　quiet　her　heart；　which　had　been　thundering　with　excitement　and　with　the　steepness　of　the　stairs　but　now　pounded　with　fear　of　Edgler　Vess。　She　listened　at　the　door　for　a　while；　heard　nothing　over　ule　Lnuuuing　in　ner　oreasr；　anct　rurnea　rne　KnOD　as　steaitnliy　as　possible。
　The　hinges　operated　smoothly；　soundlessly；　and　the　door　opened　into　the　kitchen；　which　was　as　dark　as　she　had　left　it。　She　found　the　light　switch；　hesitated；　flipped　it　up…and　Vess　was　not　waiting　for　her。
　As　long　as　she　lived；　would　she　ever　again　be　able　to　go　through　a　doorway　without　flinching？
　From　a　drawer　where　earlier　Chyna　had　seen　a　set　of　cutlery；　she　extracted　a　butcher　knife　with　a　well…worn　walnut　handle。　She　put　it　on　the　counter　near　the　sink。　She　got　a　drinking　glass　from　another　cabinet；　filled　it　from　the　cold…water　tap；　and　drank　the　entire　glassful　in　long　swallows　before　lowering　it　from　her　lips。　Nothing　she　had　ever　drunk　had　been　half　as　delicious　as　those　eight　ounces。
　In　the　refrigerator；　she　found　an　unopened　coffeecake　with　white　icing；　cinnamon；　walnuts。　She　ripped　open　the　wrapper　and　tore　off　a　chunk　of　the　cake。　She　stood　over　the　sink；　eating　voraciously；　stuffing　her　mouth　until　her　cheeks　bulged；　greedily　licking　icing　from　her　lips；　crumbs　and　chunks　of　walnuts　dropping　into　the　sink。
　She　was　in　an　unmon　state　of　mind　as　she　ate：　now　moaning　with　delight；　now　half　choking　with　laughter；　now　gagging　and　on　the　verge　of　tears；　now　laughing　again。　In　a　storm　of　emotions。　But　that　was　okay。　Storms　always　passed　sooner　or　later；　and　they　were　cleansing。
　She　had　e　so　far。　Yet　she　had　so　far　to　go。　That　was　the　nature　of　the　journey。
　From　the　spice　rack　she　removed　the　bottle　of　aspirin。　She　shook　two　tablets　into　the　palm　of　her　hand；　but　she　didn't　chew　them。　She　drew　another　glass　of　water　and　took　the　aspirin；　then　took　two　more。
　She　sang；　〃I　did　it　my　way；〃　from　Sinatra's　standard；　and　then　added；　〃took　the　fucking　aspirin　my　way。〃　She　laughed　and　ate　more　coffeecake；　and　for　a　moment　she　felt　crazy　with　acplishment。
　Dogs　out　there　in　the　nigbt；　she　reminded　herself；　Dobermans　in　tbe　darkness；　rotten　bastard　Nazi　dogs　witb　big　teetb　and　eyes　black　like　sbarks'　eyes。
　At　a　key　organizer　next　to　the　spice　rack；　the　keys　to　the　motor　home　hung　from　one　of　the　four　pegs；　the　other　pegs　were　empty。　Vess　would　be　careful　with　the　keys　to　the　soundproofed　cell　and　would　no　doubt　keep　them　on　him　at　all　times。
　She　picked　up　the　butcher　knife　and　the　half…eaten　coffee　cake　and　went　to　the　cellar；　turning　off　the　kitchen　lights　behind　her。
　Pintle　and　gudgeon。
　Chyna　knew　these　two　exotic　words；　as　she　knew　so　many　others；　because；　as　a　girl；　she　had　encountered　them　in　books　written　by　C。　S。　Lewis　and　Madeleine　12Engle　and　Robert　Louis　Stevenson　and　Kenneth　Grahame。　And　every　time　that　she'd　e　across　a　word　she　had　not　known；　she'd　looked　it　up　in　a　tattered　paperback　dictionary；　a　prized　possession　that　she　took　with　her　wherever　her　restless　mother　chose　to　drag　her；　year　after　year；　until　it　was　held　together　with　so　much　age…brittled　Scotch　tape　that　she　couM　barely　read　some　of　the　definitions　through　the　strips　of　yellowing　cellophane。
　Pintle。　That　was　the　name　of　the　pin　in　a　hinge；　which　pivoted　when　a　door　opened　or　closed。
　Gudgeon。　That　was　the　sleeve…or　barrel…in　which　the　pintle　moved。
　The　thick　inner　door　of　the　soundproofed　vestibule　was　equipped　with　three　hinges。　The　pinde　in　each　hinge　had　a　slightly　rounded　head　that　overhung　the　gudgeon　by　about　a　sixteenth　of　an　inch　all　the　way　around。
　From　the　tools　in　the　wheeled　cabinet；　Chyna　selected　a　hammer　and　a　screwdriver。
　With　the　workbench　stool　and　a　scrap　of　wood　for　a　wedge；　she　propped　open　the　outer　padded　door　of　the　vestibule。　Then　she　placed　the　butcher　knife　on　the　rubber　mat　on　the　vestibule　floor；　within　easy　reach。
　She　slid　aside　the　cover　on　the　view　port　in　the　inner　door　and　saw　the　gathering　of　dolls　in　pinkish　lamplight。　Some　had　eyes　as　radiant　as　the　eyes　of　lizards；　and　some　had　eyes　as　dark　as　those　of　certain　Dobermans。
　In　the　enormous　armchair；　Ariel　sat　with　her　legs　drawn　up　on　the　seat　cushion；　head　tipped　forward；　face　obscured　by　a　fall　of　hair。　She　might　have　been　asleep…except　that　her　hands　were　balled　tightly　in　her　lap。　If　her　eyes　were　open；　she　would　be　staring　at　her　fists。
　〃It's　only　me；〃　Chyna　said。
　The　girl　didn't　respond。
　〃Don't　be　afraid。〃
　Ariel　was　so　motionless　that　even　her　veil　of　hair　did　not　stir。
　〃It's　only　me。〃
　This　time；　deeply　humbled；　Chyna　made　no　claim　to　being　anyone's　guardian　or　salvation。
　She　started　with　the　lowest　hinge。　The　length　of　chain　between　her　manacles　was　barely　long　enough　to　allow　her　to　use　the　tools。　She　held　the　screwdriver　in　her　left　hand；　with　the　tip　of　the　blade　angled　under　the　pintle　cap。　Without　sufficient　play　in　the　manacle　chain；　she　couldn't　grasp　the　hammer　by　its　handle；　so　she　gripped　it　instead　by　the　head　and　tapped　the　bottom　of　the　screwdriver　as　forcefully　as　possible　considering　the　limitations　on　movement。　Fortunately；　the　hinge　was　well　lubricated；　and　with　each　tap；　the　pintle　rose　farther　out　of　the　gudgeon。　Five　minutes　later；　in　spite　of　some　resistance　from　the　third　pin；　she　popped　it　out　of　the　uppermost　hinge。
　The　gudgeons　were　formed　of　interleaving　knuckles　that　were　part　of　the　hinge　leaf　on　the　doorframe　and　that　on　the　inner　edge　of　the　door　itself。　These　knuckles　separated　slightly；　because　the　pintles　were　no　longer　present　to　hold　them　together　in　a　single　barrel。
　Now　the　door　was　kept　in　place　only　by　the　pair　of　locks　on　the　right　side；　but　one…inch　deadbolts；　wouldn't　swing　like　hinges。　Chyna　pulled　the　padded　door　by　the　knuckles　of　the　gudgeons。　At　first　only　one　inch　of　its　five…inch　width　came　out　of　the　jamb　on　the　left；　vinyl　squeaking　against　vinyl。　She　hooked　her　fingers　around　this　exposed　edge；　yanked　hard；　and　her　vision　clouded　with　a　crimson　tint　as　the　pain　in　her　swollen　finger　flared　again。　But　she　was　rewarded　with　the　shrill　metallic　skreek　of　the　brass　deadbolts　working　in　the　striker　plates　and　then　with　a　faint　crack　of　wood　as　the　whole　lock　assembly　put　heavy　strain　on　the　jamb。　Redoubling　her　efforts；　she　pulled　rhythmically；　prying　open　the　door　in　tiny　increments；　until　she　was　gasping　so　hard　that　she　was　no　longer　able　to　curse　with　frustration。
　The　weight　of　the　door　and　the　position　of　the　two　deadbolts　began　to　work　to　her　advantage。　The　locks　were　close　together；　one　set　directly　over　the　other；　not　evenly　spaced　like　hinges；　so　the　heavy　slab　tried　to　twist　on　them　as　if　they　were　a　single　pivot　point。　Because　a　greater　length　of　the　door　lay　above　the　locks　than　below；　the　top　tipped　outward；　induced　by　gravity。　Chyna　took　advantage　of　these　inevitable　forces；　yanked　harder；　and　grunted　with　satisfaction　when　wood　splintered　again。　The　entire　five…inch　width　of　the　padded　slab　swung　free　of　the　jamb　on　the　side　that　had　been　hinged。　With　the　frame　no　longer　in　the　way；　she　pulled　the　door　to　the　left；　and　on　the　right　side；　the　deadbolts　slid　out　of　the　striker　plates。
　Suddenly　the　door　came　toward　her；　free　of　all　restraint；　and　it　was　too　heavy　to　be　lowered　slowly　out　of　its　frame。　She　backed　rapidly　into　the　cellar；　letting　the　slab　thud　to　the　floor　of　the　vestibule　just　as　sh　vacated　it。
　Chyna　waited；　catching　her　breath；　listening　to　the　house　for　any　indication　that　Vess　had　returned。
　Finally　she　reentered　the　vestibule。　She　crossed　the　fallen　door　as　if　it　were　a　bridge；　and　she　went　into　the　cell。
　The　dolls　watched；　unmoving　and　sly。　Ariel　was　sitting　in　the　armchair；　head　lowered；　hands　fisted　in　her　lap；　exactly　as　she　had　been　when　Chyna　had　spoken　to　her　through　the　port　in　the　door。　If　she　had　heard　the　hammering　and　subsequent　motion；　she　had　not　been　disturbed　by　it。
　〃Ariel？〃　Chyna　said。
　The　girl　didn't　reply　or　raise　her　head。
　Chyna　sat　on　the　footstool　in　front　of　the　armchair。　〃Honey；　it's　time　to　go。〃
　When　she　received　no　response；　Chyna　leaned　forward；　lowered　her　head；　and　looked　up　at　the　girl's　shadowed　face。　Ariel's　eyes　were　open；　and　her　gaze　was　fixed　on　her　white…knuckled　fists。　Her　lips　were　moving；　as　though　she　were　whispering　confidences　to　someone；　but　no　sound　escaped　her。
　Chyna　put　her　cuffed　hands　under　Ariel's　chin　and　lifted　her　head。　The　girl　didn't　try　to　pull　away；　didn't　flinch；　but　was　revealed　when　her　veil　of　hair　slid　away　from　her　face。　Although　they　were　eye…toeye；　Ariel　stared　through　Chyna；　as　if　all　in　this　world　were　transparent；　and　in　her　eyes　was　a　chilling　bleakness；　as　if　the　landscape　of　her　other　world　was　lifeless；　daunting。　〃We　have　to　go。　Before　he　es　home。〃
　Bright…eyed　and　attentive；　perhaps　the　dolls　listened。　Ariel　apparently　did　not。
　With　both　hands；　Chyna　enfolded　one　of　the　girl's　fists。　The　bones　were　sharp　and　the　skin　was　cold；　clenched　as　fiercely　as　if　she　had　been　suspended　from　rocks　at　a　precipice。
　Chyna　tried　to　pry　the　fingers　apart。　The　sculpted　digits　of　a　marble　fist　would　have　been　hardly　more　resistant。
　Finally　Chyna　lifted　the　hand　and　kissed　it　more　tenderly　than　she　had　ever　kissed　anyone　before；　more　tenderly　than　she　had　ever　been　kissed；　and　she　said　softly；　〃I　want　to　help　you。　I　need　to　help　you；　honey。　If　I　can't　leave　here　with　you；　there's　no　point　in　my　leaving　at　all。〃
　Ariel　didn't　respond。
　〃Please　let　me　help　you。〃　Softer　still：　〃Please。〃
　Chyna　kissed　the　hand　once　more；　and　at　last　she　felt　the　girl's　fingers　stir。　They　opened　partway；　cold　and　stiff；　but　would　not　relax　entirely；　as　hooked　and　rigid　as　a　skeleton's　fingers　in　which　the　joints　had　calcified。
　Ariel's　desire　to　reach　out　for　help；　tempered　by　her　paralyzing　fear　of　mitment；　was　achingly　familiar　to　Chyna。　It　struck　in　her　a　chord　of　sympathy　and　pity　for　this　girl；　for　all　lost　girls；　and　her　throat　tightened　so　severely　that　for　a　moment　she　was　unable　to　swallow　or　breathe。
　Then　she　slipped　one　cuffed　hand　into　Ariel's　and　the　other　over　it；　got　up　from　the　footstool；　and　said；　〃e　on；　child。　e　with　me。　Out　of　here。〃
　Though　Ariel's　face　remained　as　expressionless　as　an　egg；　though　she　continued　to　look　through　Chyna　with　the　otherworldly　detachment　of　a　novitiate　in　the　thrall　o