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！
e to look away from the clock…its hands had e together and pointed straight up。
〃Unmask！ Unmask！〃 the chant went up。
The clock began to chime delicately。 Along the steel runner below the clockface； from the left and right； two figures advanced。 Jack watched； fascinated； the unmasking forgotten。 Clockwork whirred。 Cogs turned and meshed； brass warmly glowing。 The balance wheel rocked back and forth precisely。
One of the figures was a man standing on tiptoe； with what looked like a tiny club clasped in his hands。 The other was a small boy wearing a dunce cap。 The clockwork figures glittered； fantastically precise。 Across the front of the boy's dunce cap he could read the engraved word FOOLE。
The two figures slipped onto the opposing ends of a steel axis bar。 Somewhere； tinkling on and on； were the strains of a Strauss waltz。 An insane mercial jingle began to run through his mind to the tune： Buy dog food； rowf…rowf； rowf… rowf； buy dog food 。 。 。
The steel mallet in the clockwork daddy's hands came down on the boy's head。
The clockwork son crumpled forward。 The mallet rose and fell； rose and fell。 The boy's upstretched； protesting hands began to falter。 The boy sagged from his crouch to a prone position。 And still the hammer rose and fell to the light； tinkling air of the Strauss melody； and it seemed that he could see the man's face； working and knotting and constricting； could see the clockwork daddy's mouth opening and closing as he berated the unconscious； bludgeoned figure of the son。
A spot of red flew up against the inside of the glass dome。
Another followed。 Two more splattered beside it。
Now the red liquid was spraying up like an obscene rain shower； striking the glass sides of the dome and running； obscuring what was going on inside； and flecked through the scarlet were tiny gray ribbons of tissue； fragments of bone and brain。 And still he could see the hammer rising and falling as the clockwork continued to turn and the cogs continued to mesh the gears and teeth of this cunningly made machine。
〃Unmask！ Unmask！〃 Derwent was shrieking behind him； and somewhere a dog was howling in human tones。
（But clockwork can't bleed clockwork can't bleed） The entire dome was splashed with blood； he could see clotted bits of hair but nothing else thank God he could see nothing else； and still he thought he would be sick because he could hear the hammerblows still falling； could hear them through the glass just as he could hear the phrases of 〃The Blue Danube。〃 But the sounds were no longer the mechanical tink…tink…tink noises of a mechanical hammer striking a mechanical head； but the soft and squashy thudding sounds of a real hammer slicing down and whacking into a spongy； muddy ruin。 A ruin that once had been…
〃UNMASK！〃 （…the Red Death held sway over all！） With a miserable； rising scream； he turned away from the clock； his hands outstretched； his feet stumbling against one another like wooden blocks as he begged them to stop； to take him； Danny； Wendy； to take the whole world if they wanted it； but only to stop and leave him a little sanity； a little light。
The ballroom was empty。
The chairs with their spindly legs were upended on tables covered with plastic dust drops。 The red rug with its golden tracings was back on the dance floor； protecting the polished hardwood surface。 The bandstand was deserted except for a disassembled microphone stand and a dusty guitar leaning stringless against the wall。 Cold morning light； winterlight； fell languidly through the high windows。
His head was still reeling； he still felt drunk； but when he turned back to the mantelpiece； his drink was gone。 There were only the ivory elephants 。 。 。
and the clock。
He stumbled back across the cold； shadowy lobby and through the dining room。
His foot hooked around a table leg and he fell full…length； upsetting the table with a clatter。 He struck his nose hard on the floor and it began to bleed。 He got up； snufing back blood and wiping his nose with the back of his hand。 He crossed to the Colorado Lounge and shoved through the batwing doors； making them fly back and bang into the walls。
The place was empty 。 。 。 but the bar was fully stocked：。 God be praised！
Glass and the silver edging on labels glowed warmly in the dark。
Once； he remembered； a very long time ago； he had been angry that there was no backbar mirror。 Now he was glad。 Looking into it he would have seen just another drunk fresh off the wagon： bloody nose； untucked shirt； hair rumpled； cheeks stubbly。
（This is what it's like to stick your whole hand into the nest。） Loneliness surged over him suddenly and pletely。 He cried out with sudden wretchedness and honestly wished he were dead。 His wife and son were upstairs with the door locked against him。 The others bad all left。 The party was over。
He lurched forward again； reaching the bar。
〃Lloyd； where the fuck are you？〃 he screamed。
There was no answer。 In this well…padded （cell） room； his words did not even echo back to give the illusion of pany。
〃Grady！〃 No answer。 Only the bottles； standing stiffly at attention。
（Roll over。 Play dead。 Fetch。 Play dead。 Sit up。 Play dead。）
〃Never mind； I'll do it myself； goddammit。〃 Halfway over the bar he lost his balance and pitched forward； hitting his head a muffled blow on the floor。 He got up on his hands and knees； his eyeballs moving disjointed from side to side； fuzzy muttering sounds ing from his mouth。 Then he collapsed； his face turned to one side； breathing in harsh snores。
Outside； the wind whooped louder； driving the thickening snow before it。 It was 8：30 A。M。
》
STAPLETON AIRPORT； DENVER
At 8：31 A。M。； MST； a woman on TWA's Flight 196 burst into tears and began to bugle her own opinion； which was perhaps not unshared among some of the other passengers （or even the crew； for that matter）； that the plane was going to crash。
The sharp…faced woman next to Hallorann looked up from her book and offered a brief character analysis： 〃Ninny；〃 and went back to her book。 She had downed two screwdrivers during the flight； but they seemed not to have thawed her at all。
〃It's going to crash！〃 the woman was crying out shrilly。 〃Oh； I just know it is！〃 A stewardess hurried to her seat and squatted beside her。 Hallorann thought to himself that only stewardesses and very young housewives seemed able to squat with any degree of grace； it was a rare and wonderful talent。 He thought about this while the stewardess talked softly and soothingly to the woman； quieting her bit by bit。
Hallorann didn't know about anyone else on 196； but he personally was almost scared enough to shit peachpits。 Outside the window there was nothing to be seen but a buffeting curtain of white。 The plane rocked sickeningly from side to side with gusts that seemed to e from everywhere。 The engines were cranked up to provide partial pensation and as a result the floor was vibrating under their feet。 There were several people moaning in Tourist behind them； one stew had gone back with a handful of fresh airsick bags； and a man three rows in front of Hallorann had whoo