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！
Croaker looked at his watch； thought about calling Linnear； then quickly changed his mind。 The telephone wasn't the right medium and； anyway； he was too high to be able to think things out with enough clarity to satisfy himself。 He sighed； finished off the bottle of sake。 He'd had enough。
Still he could not face the thought of going home。 Yet he wanted a woman。 Into his mind swam an image and abruptly he was as hard as a bar of iron。 Her face seemed familiar but where had he seen her before？ Perhaps nowhere。 Perhaps on some billboard。 The image had surfaced from deep inside of him。 Perhaps she was long gone。 Or； again； had never even existed。
Vincent exhaled in a rush； attempting to free his lungs of the mist。 It was a useless gesture； his mind knew； yet his body would not be denied its chance。
His eyes began to burn and tear。 He reached blindly for the door…handle。 The cab started up as the light changed。 He leaned on the handle； got it open on the second try。 The city rushed in on him as he half tumbled out。 His foot caught for a moment and then he was free； rolling along the street for a moment while horns blared。 He could hear the harsh squeal of brakes and muted shouts。 Then he was up and running clumsily； slipping on dogshit as if it were a banana peel。 He balanced himself with his arms outspread and hit the kerb； sprinted up onto the sidewalk。
Behind him he could feel the looming presence of the Checker cab as the driver pulled hard over and jumped out。 'Hey 1' he called。 'e back！ I want my fare！' Vincent stumbled along the crowded street； bumping into people。 Black faces turned； wide…eyed； to stare。
He's a cool bastard； he thought as he was spun around by an enormous black man with an open shirt and tight maroon pants。 'Hey； man！ Be cool。 Watch yo'self。'
He wove in and out of the crowd； wondering how long he had。 He had no illusions about what he had inhaled。 Even without the characteristic odour； he would have known it was a neural toxin。
He turned his head but could not see his pursuer。 He took a chance； darted off the kerb； trying to hail a passing cab … it was no good expecting a cop to pop up here。 But immediately he saw the man stalking him along the periphery of the crowd as； spying Vincent； he leapt forward。
Vincent whirled； darting back into the thick of the throng on the sidewalk。 He began to run again but this； he knew； would only spread the toxin more quickly。 Already his heart was pounding furiously and the tips of his fingers felt numb： a bad sign。 Yet since the man was pursuing him still； perhaps there was a chance that he had not inhaled a sufficient amount of the poison。
Death was very close now； Vincent knew。 It rode his shoulder like an expectant predator。 He realized now just how much he wanted to live； how strong the drive still was inside him。 This knowledge came as a revelation and it buoyed him for a time。 He would need all his wits to overe this demon； he knew。 He was overmatched； but he put this thought out of his mind as he ran on and on into the spangled night。
He cut to his right； stumbling off the kerb； but again he was balked by the man。 No good。 A cab was definitely out。
He coughed as he ran now； trying to retch。 He felt as if he could not get enough oxygen into his system。 His arms felt weak and he had to force his legs to work。 He heard a harsh shout from behind him and the sound of running feet。 He pushed his way frantically through the crowd； his mind whirling； trying to alight on some 。。。 The mist！ What a fool he'd been！ It was being absorbed through the pores of his skin … the burning should have told him。 Inhaling was only peripheral。
Have to find 。。。 He was aware of how terribly exposed he was here on this mean street where no help would be forthing。 A restaurant was no good： too well lighted。 He needed some dark place。
It was right in front of him。 He put on a last burst of speed； feeling his heart pounding painfully as if it were being overworked。
He skidded to a stop in front of a movie theatre。 In front was a billboard dominated by a cut…out of a blonde with large breasts。 Beneath it； a blown…up newspaper review of the film。 'An erection！' proclaimed a banner。 'Highest rated！' Vincent shoved a man away from the ticket booth； threw a bill at the man inside the booth。 He pushed through the turnstile； ignoring the shouts。 'Hey； mister！ Wait I Your change！'
Into the darkness； smelling of mildew； stale sweat and dried sperm。 Hazy images moved on the screen and there was the sound of heavy breathing； magnified by the speakers； amplified throughout the theatre。 There was a liquid sound and a moaning。
Vincent blinked several times； adjusting to the low light。 He looked for the men's room； found that it was two flights up； past the balcony。 He didn't think he could make it。
He moved cautiously along the rear aisle； past two people standing watching the screen。 He came upon a bank of machines。 Popcorn。 Candy。 Soda。
He dug in his trouser pocket； fumbled out two quarters。 He rolled them into the slot； stabbed a button at random。 He waited impatiently while the waxed…paper cup clattered down； followed by the soda and the syrup。 He stuck his hand in； caught the shaved ice as it came down the vertical chute。 He rubbed the ice over his face。 He blinked and blinked； feeling the cold water running into his eyes； over his face。 Perhaps he had got to it in time。 The ice was like a soothing balm； diminishing the pain。 There was a chance。 The cab had been air…conditioned； the windows closed； but he had got out very quickly。 He tried to judge the overall time； gave it up as hopeless。
He turned his head to look at the doorway。 Someone came in； someone went out。 They were shadows to him。 Was his pursuer here already？ There was no way of knowing and here； in the rear； he was a perfect target。
He turned into the theatre proper； went quickly down the aisle。 His vision had seemed to clear and he could see men sitting as still as statues； staring at the screen filled with writhing bodies。
He slipped into a row midway down； moving to his right all the way over until he was wedged against one wall。 In the darkest part of the theatre he sat down。 The floor was sticky； the place smelled of accelerated age。 His head swivelled around。 People were ing and going。 Flickering light played over their faces。 He turned back。
His hands had begun to shake but this might be because of the increased adrenalin。 His mouth was dry and his breathing raspy。 Otherwise； he felt better than he had before。 Obviously the dose had been less than lethal。 He tried to 〃lax； breathing deeply； but his side hurt intermittently； perhaps from the frantic running。 Meanwhile； his mind was going over the alternatives。 There didn't seem to be many。 Having e in here； he was now quite effectively trapped。 The ninja； too； was here somewhere。 If he made a move to leave； he would be dead before he got half way to the door。
He would have to fight。 It was the only alternative。 He was not a sensei or a haragei adept as Nicholas was … or Terry had been。 He turned his mind away from Terry： that way led to despair； if Terry had been defeated 。。。
But Terry had been surprised and then the