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[科幻]宿主-第42章

小说: [科幻]宿主 字数: 每页3500字

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Only someone already in hiding would have had a chance。 So let’s go check it out—you’re sure 
there are none of you; and I’m sure there are none of me。 Maybe we can find something helpful; 
something we can use as a weapon。

 I shuddered at her thoughts of sharp knives and long metal tools that could be turned into clubs。No 
weapons。

 Ugh。 How did such spineless creaturesbeatus?

 Stealth and superior numbers。 Any one of you; even your young; is a hundred times as dangerous 
as one of us。 But you’re like one termite in an anthill。 There are millions of us; all working 
together in perfect harmony toward our goal。

 Again; as I described the unity; I felt the dragging sense of panic and disorientation。 Who was I?

 We kept to the creosote as we approached the little structure。 It looked to be a house; just a small 
shack beside the road; with no hint at all of any other purpose。 The reason for its location here was a 
mystery—this spot had nothing to offer but emptiness and heat。

 There was no sign of recent habitation。 The door frame gaped; doorless; and only a few shards of glass 

 

 I was able to contain my anxiety as I walked hesitantly to the vacant door frame; we must be just as 
alone here as we had been all day and all yesterday。

 The shade the dark entry promised drew me forward; trumping my fears with its appeal。 I still listened 
intently; but my feet moved ahead with swift; sure steps。 I darted through the doorway; moving quickly to 
one side so as to have a wall at my back。 This was instinctual; a product of Melanie’s scavenging days。 I 
stood frozen there; unnerved by my blindness; waiting for my eyes to adjust。

 The little shack was empty; as we’d known it would be。 There were no more signs of occupation inside 
than out。 A broken table slanted down from its two good legs in the middle of the room; with one rusted 
metal chair beside it。 Patches of concrete showed through big holes in the worn; grimy carpet。 A 
kitchenette lined the wall with a rusted sink; a row of cabinets—some doorless—and a waist…high 
refrigerator that hung open; revealing its moldy black insides。 A couch frame sat against the far wall; all 
the cushions gone。 Still mounted above the couch; only a little crooked; was a framed print of dogs 
playing poker。

 Homey;Melanie thought; relieved enough to be sarcastic。It’s got more decor than your apartment。

 I was already moving for the sink。

 Dream on;Melanie added helpfully。

 Of course it would be wasteful to have water running to this secluded place; the souls managed details 
like that better than to leave such an anomaly behind。 I still had to twist the ancient knobs。 One broke off 
in my hand; rusted through。

 I turned to the cupboards next; kneeling on the nasty carpet to peek carefully inside。 I leaned away as I 
opened the door; afraid I might be disturbing one of the venomous desert animals in its lair。

 The first was empty; backless; so that I could see the wooden slats of the outside wall。 The next had no 
door; but there was a stack of antique newspapers inside; covered with dust。 I pulled one out; curious; 
shaking the dirt to the dirtier floor; and read the date。

 From human times;I noted。 Not that I needed a date to tell me that。

 “Man Burns Three…Year…Old Daughter to Death;” the headline screamed at me; acpanied by a 
picture of an angelic blond child。 This wasn’t the front page。 The horror detailed here was not so hideous 
as to rate priority coverage。 Beneath this was the face of a man wanted for the murders of his wife and 
two children two years before the print date; the story was about a possible sighting of the man in 
Mexico。 Two people killed and three injured in a drunk…driving accident。 A fraud and murder 
investigation into the alleged suicide of a prominent local banker。 A suppressed confession setting an 
admitted child molester free。 House pets found slaughtered in a trash bin。

 I cringed; shoving the paper away from me; back into the dark cupboard。

 Those were the exceptions; not the norm;Melanie thought quietly; trying to keep the fresh horror of 
my reaction from seeping into her memories of those years and recoloring them。 

 

 Her answer was acidic。If you wanted to cleanse the planet; you could have blown it up。

 Despite what your science fiction writers dream; we simply don’t have the technology。

 She didn’t think my joke was funny。

 Besides;I added;that would have been such a waste。 It’s a lovely planet。 This unspeakable desert 
excepted; of course。

 That’s how we realized you were here; you know;she said; thinking of the sickening news headlines 
again。When the evening news was nothing but inspiring human…interest stories; when pedophiles 
and junkies were lining up at the hospitals to turn themselves in; when everything morphed into 
Mayberry; that’s when you tipped your hand。

 “What an awful alteration!” I said dryly; turning to the next cupboard。

 I pulled the stiff door back and found the mother lode。

 “Crackers!” I shouted; seizing the discolored; half…smashed box of Saltines。 There was another box 
behind it; one that looked like someone had stepped on it。 “Twinkies!” I crowed。

 Look!Melanie urged; pointing a mental finger at three dusty bottles of bleach at the very back of the 
cupboard。

 What do you want bleach for?I asked; already ripping into the cracker box。To throw in someone’s 
eyes? Or to brain them with the bottle?

 To my delight; the crackers; though reduced to crumbs; were still inside their plastic sleeves。 I tore one 
open and started shaking the crumbs into my mouth; swallowing them half chewed。 I couldn’t get them 
into my stomach fast enough。

 Open a bottle and smell it;she instructed; ignoring my mentary。That’s how my dad used to store 
water in the garage。 The bleach residue kept the water from growing anything。

 In a minute。I finished one sleeve of crumbs and started on the next。 They were very stale; but 
pared to the taste in my mouth; they were ambrosia。 When I finished the third; I became aware that 
the salt was burning the cracks in my lips and at the corners of my mouth。

 I heaved out one of the bleach bottles; hoping Melanie was right。 My arms felt weak and noodley; 
barely able to lift it。 This concerned us both。 How much had our condition deteriorated already? How 
much farther would we be able to go?

 The bottle’s cap was so tight; I wondered if it had melted into place。 Finally; though; I was able to twist 
it off with my teeth。 I sniffed at the opening carefully; not especially wanting to pass out from bleach 
fumes。 The chemical scent was very faint。 I sniffed deeper。 It was water; definitely。 Stagnant; musty 
water; but water all the same。 I took a small mouthful。 Not a fresh mountain stream; but wet。 I started 
guzzling。 

 

 The last cupboard was empty。

 As soon as the hunger pangs had eased slightly; Melanie’s impatience began to leak into my thoughts。 
Feeling no resistance this time; I quickly loaded my spoils into my pack; pitching the empty water bottles 
into the sink to make room。 The bleach jugs were heavy; but theirs was a forting weight。 It meant I 
wouldn’t stretch out to sleep on the desert floor thirsty and hungry again tonight。 With the sugar energy 
beginning to buzz through my veins; I loped back out into the bright afternoon。

 CHAPTER 12

 Failed

 It’s impossible! You’ve got it wrong! Out of order! That can’t be it!”

 I stared into the distance; sick with disbelief that was turning quickly to horror。

 Yesterday morning I’d eaten the last mangled Twinkie for breakfast。 Yesterday afternoon I’d found the 
double peak and turned east again。 Melanie had given me what she promised was the last formation to 
find。 The news had made me nearly hysterical with joy。 Last night; I’d drunk the last of the water。 That 
was day four。

 This morning was a hazy memory of blinding sun and desperate hope。 Time was running out; and I’d 
searched the skyline for the last milestone with a growing sense of panic。 I couldn’t see any place where 
it could fit; the long; flat line of a mesa flanked by blunt peaks on either end; like sentinels。 Such a thing 
would take space; and the mountains to the east and north were thick with toothy points。 I couldn’t see 
where the flat mesa could be hiding between them。

 Midmorning—the sun was still in the east; in my eyes—I’d stopped to rest。 I’d felt so weak that it 
frightened me。 Every muscle in my body had begun to ache; but it was not from all the walking。 I could 
feel the ache of exertion and also the ache from sleeping on the ground; and these were different from the 
new ache。 My body was drying out; and this ache was my muscles protesting the torture of it。 I knew 
that I couldn’t keep going much longer。

 I’d turned my back on the east to get the sun off my face for a moment。

 That’s when I’d seen it。 The long; flat line of the mesa; unmistakable with the bordering peaks。 There it 
was; so far away in the distant west that it seemed to shimmer above a mirage; floating; hovering over the 
desert like a dark cloud。 Every step we’d walked had been in the wrong direction。 The last marker was 
farther to the west than we’d e in all our journeying。

 “Impossible;” I whispered again。

 Melanie was frozen in my head; unthinking; blank; trying desperately to reject this new prehension。 I 
waited for her; my eyes tracing the undeniably familiar shapes; until the sudden weight of her acceptance 
and grief knocked me to my knees。 Her silent keen of defeat echoed in my head and added one more 
layer to the pain。 My breathing turned ragged—a soundless; tearless sobbing。 The sun crept up my back; 
its heat soaked deep into the darkness of my hair。 

 

 And finally; not really sure why I did it; I started walking forward。 I knew only this: that it was me who 
moved and no one else。 Melanie was so small in my brain—a tiny capsule of pain wrapped tightly in on 
her herself。 There was no help from her。

 My footsteps were a slowcrunch; crunch across the brittle ground。

 “He was just a deluded old lunatic; after all;” I murmured to myself。 A strange shudder rocked my chest; 
and a hoarse coughing ripped its way up my throat。 The stream of gravelly coughs rattled on; but it 
wasn’t until I felt my eyes pricking for tears that couldn’t e that I realized I was laughing。

 “There was… never… ever… anything out here!” I gasped between spasms of hysteria。 I staggered 
forward as though I were drunk; my footprints trailing unevenly behind me。

 No。Melanie uncurled from her misery to defend the faith she still clung to。I got it wrong or something。 
My fault。

 I laughed at her now。 The sound was sucked away by the scorching wind。

 Wait; wait;she thought; trying to pull my attention from the joke of it all。You don’t think… I mean; do 
you think that maybe theytried this?

 Her unexpected fear caught me midlaugh。 I choked on the hot air; my chest throbbing from my fit of 
morbid hysteria。 By the time I could breathe again; all trace of my black humor was gone。 Instinctively; 
my eyes swept the desert void; looking for some ev

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