按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
cinematic touch…fiery alert bebop； at a volume so low Jack could just pick out that the lead instruments were a trumpet and an alto saxophone。 Richard； Jack drowsily thought； tomorrow I should be seeing Richard Sloat； and fell down the slope of the rhythm into brimming unconsciousness。
Wolf was trotting toward him across a blasted； smoking landscape。 Strings of barbed wire； now and then coiling up into fantastic and careless barbed…wire intricacies； separated them。 Deep trenches； too； divided the spoiled land； one of which Wolf vaulted easily before nearly tumbling into one of the ranks of wire。
…Watch out； Jack called。
Wolf caught himself before falling into the triple strands of wire。 He waved one big paw to show Jack that he was unhurt； and then cautiously stepped over the wires。
Jack felt an amazing surge of happiness and relief pass through him。 Wolf had not died； Wolf would join him again。
Wolf made it over the barbed wire and began trotting forward again。 The land between Jack and Wolf seemed mysteriously to double in length…gray smoke hanging over the many trenches almost obscured the big shaggy figure ing forward。
…Jason！ Wolf shouted。 Jason！ Jason！
…I'm still here； Jack shouted back。
…Can't make it； Jason！ Wolf can't make it！
…Keep trying； Jack bawled。 Damn it； don't give up！
Wolf paused before an impenetrable tangle of wire； and through the smoke Jack saw him slip down to all fours and trot back and forth； nosing for an open place。 From side to side Wolf trotted； each time going out a greater distance； with every second being more evidently disturbed。 Finally Wolf stood up again and placed his hands on the thick tangle of wire and forced a space he could shout through。…Wolf can't！ Jason； Wolf can't！
…I love you； Wolf； Jack shouted across the smouldering plain。
…JASON！ Wolf bawled back。 BE CAREFUL！ They are ING for you！ There are MORE of them！
…More what； Jack wanted to shout； but could not。 He knew。
Then either the whole character of the dream changed or another dream began。 He was back in the ruined recording studio and office at the Sunlight Home； and the smells of gunpowder and burned flesh crowded the air。 Singer's mutilated body lay slumped on the floor； and Casey's dead form drooped through the shattered glass panel。 Jack sat on the floor cradling Wolf in his arms； and knew again that Wolf was dying。 Only Wolf was not Wolf。
Jack was holding Richard Sloat's trembling body； and it was Richard who was dying。 Behind the lenses of his sensible black plastic eyeglasses； Richard's eyes skittered aimlessly； painfully。…Oh no； oh no； Jack breathed out in horror。 Richard's arm had been shattered； and his chest was a pulp of ruined flesh and bloodstained white shirt。 Fractured bones glinted whitely here and there like teeth。
…I don't want to die； Richard said； every word a superhuman effort。 Jason； you should not 。 。 。 you should not have 。 。 。
…You can't die； too； Jack pleaded； not you； too。
Richard's upper body lurched against Jack's arms； and a long； liquid sound escaped Richard's throat； and then Richard found Jack's eyes with his own suddenly clear and quiet eyes。…Jason。 The sound of the name； which was almost appropriate； hung softly in the stinking air。…You killed me； Richard breathed out； or you killed 'e； since his lips could not meet to form one of the letters。 Richard's eyes swam out of focus again； and his body seemed to grow instantly heavier in Jack's arms。 There was no longer life in that body。 Jason DeLoessian stared up in shock…
3
…and Jack Sawyer snapped upright in the cold； unfamiliar bed of a flophouse in Decatur； Illinois； and in the yellowish murk shed by a streetlamp outside saw his breath plume out as luxuriantly as if exhaled from two mouths at once。 He kept himself from screaming only by clasping his hands； his own two hands； and squeezing them together hard enough to crack a walnut。 Another enormous white feather of air steamed out of his lungs。
Richard。
Wolf running across that dead world； calling out 。 。 。 what？
Jason。
The boy's heart executed a quick； decided leap； with the kick of a horse clearing a fence。
CHAPTER 29
Richard at Thayer
1
At eleven o'clock the next morning an exhausted Jack Sawyer unshouldered his pack at the end of a long playing field covered with crisp brown dead grass。 Far away； two men in plaid jackets and baseball caps labored with leaf…blower and rake down on the stretch of lawn surrounding the most distant group of buildings。 To Jack's left； directly behind the red…brick backside of the Thayer library； was the faculty parking lot。 In the front of Thayer School a great gate opened onto a tree…lined drive which circled around a large quad crisscrossed with narrow paths。 If anything stood out on the campus； it was the library…a Bauhaus steamship of glass and steel and brick。
Jack had already seen that a secondary gate opened onto another access road before the library。 This ran two…thirds the length of the school and ended at the garbage Dumpsters nested in the round cul…de…sac just before the land climbed up to form the plateau of the football field。
Jack began to move across the top of the field toward the rear of the classroom buildings。 When the Thayerites began to go to dining hall； he could find Richard's room…Entry 5； Nelson House。
The dry winter grass crunched beneath his feet。 Jack pulled Myles P。 Kiger's excellent coat tightly about him…the coat at least looked preppy； if Jack did not。 He walked between Thayer Hall and an Upper School dormitory named Spence House； in the direction of the quad。 Lazy preluncheon voices came through the Spence House windows。
2
Jack glanced toward the quad and saw an elderly man； slightly stooped and of a greenish…bronze； standing on a plinth the height of a carpenter's bench and examining the cover of a heavy book。 Elder Thayer； Jack surmised。 He was dressed in the stiff collar； flowing tie； and frock coat of a New England Transcendentalist。 Elder Thayer's brass head inclined over the volume； pointed generally in the direction of the classroom buildings。
Jack took the right…angle at the end of the path。 Sudden noise erupted from an upstairs window ahead…boys shouting out the syllables of a name that sounded like 'Etheridge！ Etheridge！' Then an irruption of wordless screams and shouts； acpanied by the sounds of heavy furniture moving across a wooden floor。 'Etheridge！'
Jack heard a door closing behind his back； and looked over his shoulder to see a tall boy with dirty…blond hair rushing down the steps of Spence House。 He wore a tweed sport jacket and a tie and a pair of L。 L。 Bean Maine hunting shoes。 Only a long yellow…and…blue scarf wound several times around his neck protected him from the cold。 His long face looked both haggard and arrogant； and just now was the face of a senior in a self…righteous rage。 Jack pushed the hood of the loden coat over his head and moved down the path。
'I don't want anybody to move！' the tall boy shouted up at the closed window。 'You freshmen just stay put！'
Jack drifted toward the next building。
'You're moving the chairs！' the tall boy screamed behind him。 'I can hear you doing it！ STOP！' Then Jack heard the furious senior call out to him。
Jack turned around； his heart beating loudly。
'Get over to Nelson House right now； whoever you are； on the double； post…haste； immediately。 Or I'll go to your house master。'
'Yes sir；' Jack said； and quickly turned away to move in the direction the prefect had pointed。
'You're at least seven minutes late！' Etheridge screeched at him； and Jack was startled into jogging。 'On the double； I said！' Jack turned the jog into a run。
When he started downhill （he hoped it was the right way； it was； anyway； the direction in which Etheridge had seemed to be looking）； he saw a long black car…a limousine…just beginning to swing through the main front gates and whisper up the long drive to the quad。 He thought that maybe whatever sat behind the tinted windows of the limousine was nothing so ordinary as the parent of a Thayer School sophomore。
The long black car eased forward； insolently slow。
No； Jack thought； I'm spooking myself。
Still he could not move。 Jack watched the limousine pull up to the bottom of the quad and stop； its motor running。 A black chauffeur with the shoulders of a running back got out of the front seat and opened the rear passenger door。 An old white…haired man； a stranger； effortfully got out of the limousine's back seat。 He wore a black topcoat which revealed an immaculate white shirtfront and a solid dark tie。 The man nodded to his chauffeur and began to toil across the quad in the direction of the main building。 He never even looked in Jack's direction。 The chauffeur elaborately craned his neck and looked upward； as if speculating about the possibility of snow。 Jack stepped backward and watched while the old man made it to the steps of Thayer Hall。 The chauffeur continued his specious examination of the sky。 Jack melted backward down the path until the side of the building shielded him； and then he turned around and began to trot。
Nelson House was a three…story brick building on the other side of the quadrangle。 Two windows on the ground floor showed him a dozen seniors exercising their privileges： reading while sprawled on couches； playing a desultory game of cards on a coffee table； others stared lazily at what must have been a television set parked beneath the windows。
An unseen door slammed shut a little farther up the hill； and Jack caught a glimpse of the tall blond senior； Etheridge； stalking back to his own building after dealing with the freshmen's crimes。
Jack cut across the front of the building and a gust of cold wind smacked up against him as soon as he reached its side。 And around the corner was a narrow door and a plaque （wooden this time； white with Gothic black lettering） saying ENTRY 5。 A series of windows stretched down to the next corner。
And here； at the third window…relief。 For here was Richard Sloat； his eyeglasses firmly hooked around his ears； his necktie knotted； his hands only slightly stained with ink； sitting erect at his desk and reading some fat book as if for dear life。 He was positioned sideways to Jack； who had time to take in Richard's dear； well…known profile before he rapped on the glass。
Richard's head jerked up from the book。 He stared wildly about him； frightened and surprised by the sudden noise。
'Richard；' Jack said softly； and was rewarded by the sight of his friend's astonished face turning toward him。 Richard looked almost moronic with surprise。
'Open the window；' Jack said； mouthing the words with exaggerated care so that his friend could read his lips。
Richard stood up from his desk； still moving with the slowness of shock。 Jack mimed pushing the window up。 When Richard reached the window he put his hands on the frame and looked down severely at Jack for a moment…in that short and critical glance was a judgment about Jack's dirty face and unwashed； lank hair； his unorthodox arrival； much else。 What on earth are you up to now？ Finally he pushed up the window。
'Well；' Richard said。 'Most people use the door。'
'Great；' Jack said； almost laughing。 'When I'm like most people； I probably will； too。 Stand back； okay？'
Looking very much as though he had been caught off…guard； Richard stepped a few paces back。
Jack hoisted himself up onto the sill and slid through the window head…first。 'Oof。'
'Okay； hi；' Richard said。 'I suppose it's even sort of nice to see you。 But I have to go to lunch pretty soon。 You could take a shower； I guess。 Everybody else'll be down in the dining room。' He stopped talking； as if startled that he had said so much。
Richard； Jack saw； would require delicate handling。 'Could you bring some food back for me？ I'm really starving。'
'Great；' Richard said。 'First you get everybody crazy； including my dad； by running away； then you break in here like a burglar； and now you want me to steal food for you。 Fine； sure。 Okay。 Great。'
'We have a lot to talk about；' Jack said。
�