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！
meter in his hand。
〃Warning； 60；〃 the soldier said。 〃Second warning。〃
〃Listen； I'll catch up；〃 Larson hastened to assure him。 〃I'm just resting。 A guy can't walk all the time。 Not all the time。 Can he； fellas？〃 Olson made a little moaning noise as he passed Larson； and shied away when Larson tried to touch his pants cuff。
Garraty felt his pulse beating warmly in his temples。 Larson got his thins warning 。 now he'll understand； Garraty thought； now he'll get up and start flogging it。
And at the end； Larson did realize； apparently。 Reality came crashing back in。 〃Hey！〃 Larson said behind them。 His voice was high and alarmed。 〃Hey； just a second； don't do that； I'll get up。 Hey； don't！ D…〃
The shot。 They walked on up the hill。
〃Ninety…three bottles of beer left on the shelf；〃 McVries said softly。
Garraty made no reply。 He stared at his feet and walked and focused all of his concentration on getting to the top without that third warning。 It couldn't go on much longer； this monster hill。 Surely not。
Up ahead someone uttered a high； gobbling scream； and then the rifles crashed in unison。
〃Barkovitch；〃 Baker said hoarsely。 〃That was Barkovitch； I'm sure it was。〃
〃Wrong； redneck！〃 Barkovitch yelled out of the darkness。 〃One hundred per cent dead wrong！〃
They never did see the boy who had been shot after Larson。 He had been part of the vanguard and he was dragged off the road before they got there。 Garraty ventured a look up from the pavement； and was immediately sorry。 He could see the top of the hill just barely。 They still had the length of a football field to go。 It looked like a hundred miles。 No one said anything else。 Each of them had retreated into his own private world of pain and effort。 Seconds seemed to telescope into hours。
Near the top of the hill； a rutted dirt road branched off the main drag； and a farmer and his family stood there。 They watched the Walkers go past…an old man with a deeply seamed brow； a hatchet…faced woman in a bulky cloth coat； three teenaged children who all looked half…wilted。
〃All he needs 。 。 。 is a pitchfork；〃 McVries told Garraty breathlessly。 Sweat was streaming down McVries's face。 〃And 。 。 。 Grant Wood 。 。 。 to paint him。〃
Someone called out： 〃Hiya； Daddy！〃
The farmer and the farmer's wife and the farmer's children said nothing。 The cheese stands alone； Garraty thought crazily。 Hi…ho the dairy…o； the cheese stands alone。 The farmer and his family did not smile。 They did not frown。 They held no signs。 They did not wave。 They watched。 Garraty was reminded of the Western movies he had seen on all the Saturday afternoons of his youth； where the hero was left to die in the desert and the buzzards came and circled overhead。 They were left behind； and Garraty was glad。 He supposed the farmer and his wife and the three half…wilted children would be out there around nine o'clock next May first and the next 。 。 。 and the next。 How many boys had they seen shot？ A dozen？ Two？ Garraty didn't like to think of it。 He took a pull at his canteen； sloshed the water around in his mouth； trying to cut through the caked saliva。 He spit the mouthful out。
The hill went on。 Up ahead Toland fainted and was shot after the soldier left beside him had warned his unconscious body three times。 It seemed to Garraty that they had been climbing the hill for at least a month now。 Yes； it had to be a month at least； and that was a conservative estimate because they had been walking for just over three years。 He giggled a little； took another mouthful of water； sloshed it around in his mouth； and then swallowed it。 No cramps。 A cramp would finish him now。 But it could happen。 It could happen because someone had dipped his shoes in liquid lead while he wasn't looking。
Nine gone； and a third of them had gotten it right here on this hill。 The Major had told Olson to give them hell； and if this wasn't hell； it was a pretty good approximation。 A pretty good 。 。 。
Oh boy…
Garraty was suddenly aware that he felt quite giddy； as if he might faint himself。 He brought one hand up and slapped himself across the face； backward and forward； hard。
〃You all right？〃 McVries asked。
〃Feel faint。〃
〃Pour your 。 。 。 〃 Quick； whistling breath； 〃 。 。 。 canteen over your head。 〃
Garraty did it。 I christen thee Raymond Davis Garraty； pax vobiscum。 The water was very cold。 He stopped feeling faint。 Some of the water trickled down inside his shirt in freezing cold rivulets。 〃Canteen！ 47！ 〃 he shouted。 The effort of the shout left him feeling drained all over again。 He wished he had waited awhile。
One of the soldiers jog…trotted over to him and handed him a fresh canteen。 Garraty could feel the soldier's expressionless marble eyes sizing him up。 〃Get away； 〃 he said rudely； taking the canteen。 〃You get paid to shoot me； not to look at me。 〃
The soldier went away with no change of expression。 Garraty made himself walk a little faster。
They kept climbing and no one else got it and then they were at the top。 It was nine o'clock。 They had been on the road twelve hours。 It didn't mean anything。 The only thing that mattered was the cool breeze blowing over the top of the hill。 And the sound of a bird。 And the feel of his damp shirt against his skin。 And the memories in his head。 Those things mattered； and Garraty clung to them with desperate awareness。 They were his things and he still had them。
〃Pete？〃
〃Yeah。 〃
〃Man； I'm glad to be alive。〃
McVries didn't answer。 They were on the downslope now。 Walking was easy。
〃I'm going to try hard to stay alive；〃 Garraty said； almost apologetically。
The road curved gently downward。 They were still a hundred and fifteen miles from Oldtown and the parative levelness of the turnpike。
〃That's the idea； isn't it？〃 McVries asked finally。 His voice sounded cracked and cobwebby； as if it had issued from a dusty cellar。
Neither of them said anything for a while。 No one was talking。 Baker ambled steadily along…he hadn't drawn a warning yet…with his hands in his pockets； his head nodding slightly with the flatfooted rhythm of his walk。 Olson had gone back to Hail Mary； full of grace。 His face was a white splotch in the darkness。 Harkness was eating。
〃Garraty；〃 McVries said。
〃I'm here。〃
〃You ever see the end of a Long Walk？〃
〃No； you？〃
〃Hell； no。 I just thought； you being close to it and all…〃
〃My father hated them。 He took me to one as a what…do…you…call…it； object lesson。 But that was the only time。〃
〃I saw。〃
Garraty jumped at the sound of that voice。 It was Stebbins。 He had pulled almost even with them； his head still bent forward； his blond hair flapping around his ears like a sickly halo。
〃What was it like？〃 McVries asked。 His voice was younger somehow。
〃You don't want to know；〃 Stebbins said。
〃I asked； didn't I？〃
Stebbins made no reply。 Garraty's curiosity about him was stronger than ever。 Stebbins hadn't folded up。 He showed no signs of folding up。 He went on without plaint and hadn't been warned since the starting line。
〃Yeah； what's it like？〃 he heard himself asking。
〃I saw the end four years ago；〃 Stebbins said。 〃I was thirteen。 It ended about sixteen miles over the New Hampshire border。