Chapter 17 Chapter Seventeen

Harold and Bellamy stand under the scorching Arcadia sun, preparing for their final interview.Harold had no problem with that, the New Yorker was getting better and better at throwing horseshoes, almost too good. Bellamy was about to be transferred, despite his many protests.The matter was decided by the colonel, who said Bellamy would not have time to conduct the interviews given the current overcrowding at the Arcadia Detention Center.The Bureau agents had other, more pressing tasks to accomplish, but none of them Bellamy wanted to do, so the Colonel simply let him go. Bellamy tried not to think about it, or what it meant to his mother.He threw the horseshoe out and hoped for a good result.The horseshoe fell perfectly.

Jingle. "I suppose you already know I'm leaving," Bellamy said, straight to the point, in his usual gentle tone. "I've heard some news," said Harold, "but I can guess it." He threw it too. Jingle. Neither of them recalculated the grades. They were still standing on the grass in the middle of the school, as if it was the only place they could go.In fact, they are just familiar with this place.Now the whole town is full of imprisoned resurrected people, this small piece of grass can give them some private space.People were rushing out, trying to get out of the makeshift buildings erected by schools and Bureau of Investigations.Downtown Arcadia is now overcrowded.Even those houses that have been emptied after many ups and downs have been transformed into residential areas.Even the few avenues in Arcadia were filled with tents or distribution offices of necessities set up by the Bureau of Investigation.The town of Arcadia is completely saturated.

But even without those problems, this place, this little piece of land in town, has a lot of meaning, because it's where they've spent the past few weeks figuring each other out. Bellamy smiled. "Of course you guessed it." He looked around, only to see a few white clouds occasionally drifting by in the clear blue sky.In the distance, the wind passed through the trees in the forest, repeatedly engulfing the damp air, and finally hitting the buildings in the town. Harold and Bellamy felt nothing but a sweltering heat as the breeze blew against them.The wind mingled with the smell of sweat and urine, the smell that comes with too many people who have been in harsh conditions for too long.During this time, Arcadia was full of this smell, and they clung to everything and refused to dissipate.Over time, everyone, including Agent Bellamy, has become numb.

"Are you going to finish this interview?" Harold said.In the heat and stench, he and Bellamy stepped forward to pick up the horseshoe.Jacob stayed in the teaching building not far away, with Mrs. Stone—Harold had been thinking about this old lady for a while, "Let's not spend too much time on games, you You know what I mean? Let’s get straight to the point this time, and I hope you don’t mind. We both know who she really is.” "When did you know?" "She's known since she's been here, and I don't think it's a coincidence that she shares a room with us."

"Looks like I'm not as smart as I thought, is it?" "That's not true. You just care about it and it's chaos. I'll try not to despise you." They take turns throwing horseshoes.Jingle.Jingle.Another gust of wind blows, bringing a breath of fresh air, as if a change is slowly coming.Then the wind died down, and the air was once again unusually hot, with the sun in the sky. "Is she all right?" Agent Bellamy asked. Jingle. "She's fine, you know." "Did she ever ask about me?" "I've been asking." Jingle.

Bellamy was lost in thought, but Harold continued, "Even if you sat in front of her and kissed her on the forehead, she wouldn't recognize you. Half the time she mistook me for you, and the rest of the time she I will be your father." "I'm sorry," Bellamy said. "why?" "Because it involved you in this kind of thing." Harold stretched his back, settled into position, and began to aim.He threw a good shot, but the horseshoe missed the post.He smiled and said, "I would have done it differently. In fact," he went on, "I was planning to do it."

"It's a loan and a repayment." "Tit for tat sounds better." "You can say what you want." "Is Lucille okay?" Bellamy sighed and scratched the top of her head. "It's okay, at least I heard it is. She doesn't go out very much, but to be honest, it's not interesting to go out in this town now." "They're just too much of a bully," said Harold. Bellamy threw it and landed perfectly. "She has started carrying a gun with her," he said. "What?" The image of the old-fashioned pistol flashed through his mind, and he recalled the night Jacob drowned, and the dog he had to kill.

"Anyway, that's what they told me, she was pulling over at a freeway checkpoint in what was supposed to be your truck. They asked her why she had a gun and she made a 'righteous self-defense' kind of thing , and threatened them to shoot. I don’t know if she is serious.” Bellamy walked to the other side of the field, kicking up a cloud of dust.Harold stood up, looked up at the sky, and wiped the sweat off his face. "It's really not like the woman I married," he said. "The woman I married would shoot first and then make her speech." "I always thought she was the 'give it up to God' kind of person," Bellamy said.

"That was later," said Harold. "Earlier she was afraid of ghosts. What happened to us when we were young, you wouldn't believe it." "There's nothing like that in the records. I have files for both of you." "Not being caught doesn't mean not breaking the law." Bellamy smiled slightly. Jingle. "You asked me once about my mother," Bellamy began again. "Yes," said Harold. "She died of acute pneumonia in the end, but that was only the final cause of death. In fact, what really dragged her down was Alzheimer's disease, which consumed her life little by little."

"She is resurrected now, and she is still the same." Bellamy nodded. "And you're leaving her again." "That's not her," Bellamy said, shaking her head. "She's just a copy of someone, that's all. You and I know that." "Well," said Harold coldly, "you mean the boy." "You and I," said Bellamy, "we are on the same page, and we both know that death is death, and it is all over." "Then why did you let her live with us? Why bother?" "Like you're still going to be with your son."

The air was still so sultry, and the sky was still that deep, endless blue.The two walked round and round, throwing round after round.None of them kept score, couldn't remember exactly how many rounds were played, or even tell what they were doing.The two of them just walked around in the center of this completely changed town, in a completely changed world, and let the world be turned upside down.All they can do is listen to their own voices floating in the air around them. When night fell, if someone came to the Hargraves' house at this time, they would find Lucille lying prone at the desk, the room would smell of gun oil, and the sound of the wire wiping the gun could be heard. When Lucille found the gun, she also found a whole set of gun-cleaning gadgets under it, which had only been used occasionally a few times over the years.There are actually instructions next to the tool, and the only difficult part is how to disassemble the various parts. The process is very cumbersome, you need to point the barrel in one direction, and then use a tool to remove the barrel cover. At the same time, you must pay attention to the spring and some important small parts inside, so as not to find them when you assemble them back.As she struggled with the parts, she kept reminding herself that there was no bullet in the gun, so she didn't have to worry about breaking herself down like some idiots did. The unloaded bullets lined up on the other side of the table.She wiped them all, too, except for the gun wire, and she dared not touch the chemical solvents for fear of some strange chemical reaction between the turpentine-smelling solvent and the gunpowder in it. Maybe she was a little too cautious, but she felt that there was nothing wrong with it. When she unloaded the bullet, she found that the sound was particularly pleasant.The bullets jumped out of the slender steel clips, making crisp sounds one after another. Click!Click!Click!Click!Click!Click!Click! ... Now, she holds seven lives in her hands.A picture popped into her mind: herself, Harold, Jacob, and Wilson's entire family were dead, exactly seven of them. She fiddled with the gadgets in her hands, then clenched her fists, carefully feeling how they felt in her hands: the smooth, round bullets pressed against the palm of her hand.She clutched them tightly, tightly, and even felt pain for a moment. She carefully lined up the bullets on the table, as if there was a mysterious power in these little things.She put the gun in her lap and began to read the instructions carefully. The top view of the gun is printed on the paper, and the slide slides back to reveal the inner workings of the barrel.She picked up the gun and studied it carefully.She pinched the sleeve near the back and pressed it down as shown in the picture, but nothing happened.She pressed down harder, but the gun still wouldn't budge.She studied the diagram carefully again, and she seemed to have done nothing wrong. She tried one last time, pressing down with all her strength, feeling her veins pop.She gritted her teeth and snorted softly, when suddenly the slide slid back and a bullet ejected from the magazine and fell to the floor. "My God!" she cried, her hands shaking.She stared fixedly at the bullet on the floor and didn't pick it up for a long time, imagining what would happen if she was not careful just now. "Looks like I'll have to get ready," she said. Then she picked up the bullet and put it on the table, and continued to clean the gun, thinking about what to do tonight. It's time to go.Lucille stepped out the front door and stood beside Harold's old car, then looked back again, silent for a long time.She imagined that there might be a pair of eyes far away, witnessing how she spent her life around this weather-beaten old house.She got married here, had her beloved, raised a son, and had a vindictive husband all day long—and this husband is now separated from her.She suddenly realized that he was not as stubborn and hateful as she had always thought.He loved her, and he loved her every day of the fifty-odd years they had spent together.Now, as twilight falls, she is leaving. Lucille took a deep breath, trying to suck in the sight of the house, and everything else she held dear, until she couldn't take it any more.Then she held her breath for a long time, as if she wanted to hold on to this moment, this picture, this life, and this deep breath, even though she knew that she would eventually let go. The soldier on duty that night was a young boy from Kansas, known as the Second King.Since he befriended a funny old man full of whimsical ideas, he has less disgusted with his security duties. Like all those involved in tragedy, Nishi felt that some misfortune was about to befall him.He kept checking his phone all night for new messages.He was restless, always feeling that he was destined to say something important to someone tonight. An old Ford drove over from a distance, and he heard the sound in the guard room, so he couldn't help but cleared his throat.He sometimes wondered why the fence surrounding the town suddenly ended at this point, and why the two-lane road suddenly merged into a country lane.Could it be that everything that happened within this fence, within this barricade, in this small town, would also come to an abrupt end here? The engine twitches and chugs, and the headlights sweep across the road as if the person behind the wheel is in trouble.Maybe one of the kids sneaked the car out to play, he thought.He still remembered that one autumn night many years ago, he secretly drove his father's classic truck. Most children of that age have done this kind of thing. It seems that there is not much difference between North Carolina and Kansas, II thought, at least this place in North Carolina is similar to Kansas, with fertile land, large farms and well-behaved and hardworking residents.If it wasn't too humid here, and the water vapor in the air lingered all day long, maybe, just maybe, he would really settle here.There were no tornadoes here yet, and he had long heard of the hospitality of the Southerners, who were very friendly indeed. Hearing the truck "creak" and braked, II's attention returned to the truck.The blue utility truck roared for a while before the engine finally quieted down.The headlights were still on, shining bright and harsh light.II remembered a training he had received before: turning on the headlights can temporarily blind people, so that people in the car can come out and shoot casually without being seen. Nishi has never liked guns - which is a good thing, because his marksmanship is really not very good.The dazzling light just now seemed a little darker now, and he could finally see clearly that the person sitting in the driver's seat was an old lady in her seventies, her face was tense and she was groaning.His first thought was: no one in this area has a gun.He's a guard though, so he has.However, when Lucille stepped out of the van, he saw that she also had a gun in her hand. "Madam!" The Second Emperor shouted, and immediately rushed out of the temporary guard room, "Madam, you must put down your weapon!" His voice trembled, but his voice was often trembling. "It's none of your business, child," said Lucille.She was standing in front of the van, the headlights still on, glowing behind her.She wore an old-fashioned blue cotton dress, plain and plain without any pattern, that fell long to the instep.She wears the dress every time she goes to the doctor because she wants to show that she never accepts any news she doesn't like. A group of resurrected people jumped out of the truck box and gathered next to the guardhouse hut one by one.There were quite a few of them, and the Second King couldn't help but think of his hometown, the circus that would come to tour every autumn. The resurrected gathered behind Lucille, silent, and gathered into a small group. "People must have a minimum of respect and the ability to distinguish right from wrong." Lucille said, but she didn't seem to be targeting the young soldier. "It's just basic respect for people." "Sir!" The second yelled loudly.In fact, he didn't know who he was calling, he only knew that the situation in front of him was not what he wanted to happen, "Sir! There is a situation here! Sir!" Boom, thump, thump, the sound of boots hitting the ground is getting closer. "Your rod, your staff, comfort me," read Lucille. "Ma'am," said the second, "you have to put that gun down, ma'am." "I didn't come to trouble you, child," said Lucille.She was paying attention, keeping her gun muzzle down. "I know, ma'am," he said, "but you'll put the gun down before you explain why you're here." The rest of the night guards came up, guns in hand.Perhaps out of politeness, none of them pointed their guns at Lucille. "What's the matter, my lord?" a soldier asked him quietly. "It's no wonder I'd know," he also quietly replied, "she came running out of nowhere with these people—a bunch of resurrected—and that damned gun. She was the only one who got out of the car at first, There are people in this car, but..." The soldiers could see clearly that there was more than that, far more than that.I don't know how many of these dozens of soldiers came, but it is certain that the opponent's number far exceeds their own. "I ask you to release everyone who is locked up here," Lucille yelled. "I didn't mean to target you children. I know you are just following orders and this is your job. Therefore, I have no demands." I mean to hurt you. But I want you to remember that you have to do the right thing, it is your moral obligation, even if it is to carry out orders, you must first be a fair and equal human being.” She wanted to take a few steps back and forth, which the pastor did when he was thinking.She'd gone through the whole plan in her head on the drive, but standing here, actually doing what she wanted to do, with so many guns, she was terrified. But now is not the time to be afraid. "I shouldn't even be talking to you guys at all," cried Lucille. "You're not the culprit, you're not, you're just a façade. I'm looking for the root of the problem, and I'm going to see Colonel Willis. " "Ma'am," said the second, "please put down your arms. If you want to see the colonel, we will let you see, but you must first put down your arms." The soldier next to him whispered something to him, "Put down your arms and let Those Risen surrendered and awaited processing." "I'll never do that!" she growled, gripping the gun even tighter. "What to do?" She snorted angrily.The soldiers still hesitated to point their guns at her, so they pointed their guns at the people who came with her.The resurrected people gathered behind Lucille without acting rashly.They just stand and let Lucille and the gun in her hand speak for themselves. "I want to see the Colonel," she repeated. She suddenly felt guilty about her actions, but wasn't ready to accept their terms.She knew that Satan had all sorts of seductive tricks in which he would persuade people to make small concessions until they turned into big mistakes, thus accomplishing his evil purpose.This time, she wasn't going to stand idly by. "Colonel Willis!" shouted Lucille, as if calling the tax inspector, "I want to see Colonel Willis!" Nishi couldn't handle the tense situation at hand. "Call someone." He whispered to the soldier next to him. "What? She's just an old lady. What can she do?" Lucille overheard their conversation.To prove that they had misjudged the situation, she raised her hand and fired a shot into the air.Everyone jumped up. "I'm going to see him now." She could still hear the buzzing in her ears as she spoke. "Call someone," said the second king. "Call someone," said the soldier beside him. "Call someone," said the next soldier. The soldiers passed on the words one by one. Someone finally came, but as Lucille expected, it was not Colonel Willis, but Agent Martin Bellamy.He walked and ran to the door, still wearing his usual suit but no tie.It was obvious, Lucille thought, that everything was meant to be. "It's a good night for driving." Bellamy passed through the group of soldiers and walked outside the door—on the one hand, to let her focus on herself, and on the other hand, to try to block the possibility of There will be countless guns aimed at the old lady, "What's going on, Mrs. Lucille?" "I'm not looking for you, Agent Martin Bellamy." "Yes, ma'am, I'm sure it wasn't me you were looking for, but they called me, so here I am. What's the matter?" "You know what's going on, you know it as well as anyone else." Her hand trembling with the gun, "I'm angry," she said flatly, "I can't take it anymore." "Yes, ma'am," said Bellamy, "you have reason to be angry. If anyone here has the most right to be angry, it must be you." "Don't do that, Detective Martin Bellamy. Don't make it sound like I'm the only one, because that's not the case. I want to see Colonel Willis, you go get him, or send It doesn't matter who goes to call him." "I'm sure he's on his way here now," Bellamy said, "and, frankly, that's what worries me." "Come on, I'm not worried," said Lucille. "That gun just messed things up." "Guns? Do you think I'm not afraid because I have a gun in my hand?" Lucille sighed. "It has nothing to do with the gun. I'm not afraid because I've made up my mind." She stood up straight, like A strong flower bloomed on the hard ground, "There are too many people in this world who are afraid of this and that, and so am I. I still have many things to be afraid of. Those things I saw on TV made me Terrified, before this all started, and even after this all ended, I will still be afraid of a lot of things. "But I'm not afraid to do it. I'm not afraid of what's happening now, or what's going to happen soon. I can afford it because it's the right thing to do. People of integrity shouldn't be afraid to do the right thing." "But there will be bad consequences," Bellamy said, trying not to sound threatening. "This is the world, every action will lead to a certain result, and often beyond our expectations, sometimes We can't even imagine what it's going to be. No matter how things end tonight - and I really hope it's resolved peacefully - there will be some real consequences." He took a small step towards Lucille.Just above his head, the sky is peaceful, only the stars are shining, and the clouds drifting quietly are constantly changing shapes, as if the world is really peaceful. Bellamy stood firm and continued. "I know what you're trying to do, and you want an explanation. You don't like what's been going on lately, I get it, and I don't like how it's turned out. You think I'm taking over a whole town and putting people like things or Packed and stuffed in like cargo, you want me to explain that." "That's why I don't want to talk to you, Martin Bellamy. You're no longer in charge of the job. It's none of your business. It's Colonel Willis' order." "Yes, ma'am," said Bellamy, "but Colonel Willis isn't really in charge either. He's carrying out orders, and he's working for other people, like these young soldiers." "Stop doing that," Lucille said. "Mrs. Lucille, if you want to get a satisfactory answer, you have to go to his superior, you have to find the high-level." "Don't take me for a fool, Agent Martin Bellamy." "Above the colonel, there are officials like the commander. I'm not 100% sure it's this rank. I've never served in the army, so I learned most of my knowledge from TV, but I'm sure that all soldiers Every action is to execute an order or perform a duty. It's a huge chain that goes all the way up to the president. Mrs. Lucille, as I think you know, the president doesn't control everything. It's actually the voters and private companies. Customers are making decisions. It's endless pursuit." He took another step forward and was only a few yards away from Lucille, almost touching her with his outstretched hand. "Stand still," said Lucille. "Is Colonel Willis responsible for all this?" asked Bellamy.Speaking of "all this," he turned slightly, gesturing to the dark sleeping town in front of him.It's not really a small town anymore, it's a huge, expanding concentration camp. "No, ma'am, I would never have assigned him to such an important and sensitive matter, because it is undoubtedly a very sensitive situation." He took another step forward. "Martin Bellamy." "But we're all there; you, me, Colonel Willis, Harold and Jacob." Another shot was fired. Then another shot was fired into the air, from the black, heavy pistol in Lucille's hand.Then she leveled the pistol and aimed it at Bellamy. "I really don't want to hurt you, Agent Martin Bellamy," she said. "You should know that, but I will never be led astray by you. I want my son." "No ma'am." A voice came from behind Agent Bellamy, who was stepping back.It was the colonel, and beside him stood Harold and Jacob. "You won't be led astray at all," said Colonel Willis. "We're trying to get everything back on track, I can assure you." Seeing Harold and Jacob beside the colonel, Lucille was at a loss.She knew that she should have expected this trick from them.She immediately pointed the gun at the colonel, and the soldiers started to move, but the colonel motioned them to be calm. Jacob's eyes were wide. He had never seen his mother with a gun before. "Lucille," Harold called. "Don't use that tone of voice with me, Harold Hargrave." "What are you doing, old woman?" "Do what you have to do, that's all." "Lucille!" "Shut up! You'd do the same thing if I were in there. Don't you dare say otherwise?" Harold looked at Lucille's gun. "Maybe," he said, "but that's just to say, if we switched places, I'd do what you did. But you're holding a goddamn pistol!" "Stop swearing!" "Listen to your husband, Mrs. Hargrave," said Colonel Willis, looking poised and composed despite Lucille's gun, "if you and these things don't surrender , then this matter will not end well.” "Shut up." Lucille yelled. "Listen to this man, Lucille," said Harold, "you see these lads carry guns." There were at least twenty soldiers present. For some reason, it seemed that there were more than she expected, and it seemed that there were not as many as she thought.They all looked vacillating, guns and soldiers, as if facing dire consequences at any moment.As for her, she was just an old lady in an old dress, standing in the street, trying not to be afraid. Then she remembered that she was not alone.She turned her head and saw the group of people behind her, they were all resurrected, standing side by side, looking at her, waiting for her to decide their fate. None of these things were in her plan.She had only planned to drive to the door and tell the colonel what she wanted, and then, without knowing why, he would release everyone. Yet on the drive into town, she saw them.Those people were scattered on the outskirts of the town, some half-covered, with sad faces, and some just stood together, watching her.Maybe they are no longer afraid of the Bureau of Investigation, maybe they have accepted their fate for being prisoners, or maybe it is God's will for them to come here. She stopped the car and called for them to help, and one by one they climbed into the truck.There were not many people at that time, just enough for a car.But now, the number seemed to have increased to dozens, as if a voice was calling them, and this voice was transmitted mysteriously and silently through the crowd, causing them to respond one after another. They must have all been hiding, she thought.Maybe it really is a miracle. "Lucille," Harold called her. She recovered from her trance and looked at her husband. "Do you remember when... that was... 1966, the day before Jacob's birthday, the day before he died, when we were driving home from Charlotte? It was pouring rain that night, and we I was going to pull over and wait until the rain stopped. Do you remember?" "Yes," said Lucille, "I remember that day." "An unlucky dog ​​jumped out of the front of the car," Harold went on. "You remember? I didn't have time to turn the steering wheel, and there was a bang and the front metal bar hit the dog." "That's nothing to do with today," said Lucille. "I didn't know what was going on, but you just started crying. You sat there crying like I hit a baby. You kept saying 'God, God, God' I was terrified and thought I had actually hit the child, although I thought about it later, how could a child run on the highway at that night and in that weather. But I just thought that what was lying there was Jacob, covered in blood, is dead." "Stop it." Lucille's voice began to tremble. "But it turned out to be a dog, I don't know whose hound. Maybe the dog was attracted by some smell at that time, and because of the heavy rain, it ran to the car in a daze. I got out of the car and rushed into the rain to find it. It crashed. I picked him up in the car and we took him home." "Harold!" "We brought him home, carried him in the house, well, he was like that - it was too late, he was battered and mangled, he was gone. So I went back to the room, got the gun, and it was That thing you're holding in your hand now. I let you stay in the house, but you won't, God knows what you think." Harold paused, his throat seemed to be choked, "That's my last Touch that gun once." He cleared his throat, then said, "Do you remember what it was like when I fired it? I know you do." Harold looked around at the soldiers, and their gun. He lifted Jacob into his arms.Now Lucille felt the weight of the gun in her hand grow heavier, and her shoulders began to shake, all the way to her elbows, wrists, and hands.She finally couldn't hold on anymore and put down the gun. "That's right," said Colonel Willis. "Very well, very well." "We have to talk about how to solve it." Lucille said, suddenly feeling very tired. "You can talk about it all you want." "We have to change our ways," she said. "It can't be like this anymore. Absolutely not." She had put the gun down but still held it tightly. "You may be right," said Colonel Willis.He looked around at the soldiers, including the boy from Topeka, and then Colonel Willis nodded to Lucille, then turned to face her, "I'm not going to put on an air here Everything is normal. At least, the situation is no longer aligned with the target." "Inconsistent with the goal." Lucille repeated his words.She has always liked the word "consistent."She turned her head and saw that the large group of resurrected people were still there.They were still watching her: she was the only one standing between the soldier and them at the moment. "What will happen to them?" Lucille asked.As soon as she turned her head, she just saw that the Second King was approaching her, and almost took her gun away.The lad froze, his own gun still in its holster.The kid actually hated violence. Like everyone else, he just wanted to go home safe and sound. "What do you mean, Mrs. Hargrave?" asked Colonel Willis.Behind him, several searchlights along the south gate still cast a blinding light. "I'm asking, what will happen to them." Lucille clenched the gun in her hand, "If I make concessions..." "Damn it," Harold said, putting Jacob on the ground and taking his hand. Lucille's voice was firm and restrained. "What will happen to them?" She gestured to the resurrected ones. "Make concessions", the second king had never heard this word before, but he felt that this word portended something bad, so he looked at the old lady with a gun and couldn't help but take a step back. "Don't move!" Colonel Willis yelled. II immediately obeyed the order. "You haven't answered yet," Lucille said word by word.The young soldier sent to grab her pistol just now blocked her view, so she took a small step to the left. "They'll be dealt with," Colonel Willis said.He straightened his body and put his hands behind his back in a typical military posture. "I don't accept it." Lucille's tone became tough. "Damn it." Harold cursed under his breath.Jacob looked up at him with fear in his eyes, and he understood why his father scolded him so much.Harold looked at Bellamy, hoping for a little eye contact, to let Bellamy know that Lucille was out of control. But Bellamy, like everyone else, was focusing on the situation at hand. "This is outrageous," said Lucille angrily. "It can't be fixed!" Harold shuddered.The most violent quarrel he had ever had with Lucille came after she said the words "can't be resolved".She is declaring war.He took a few steps back toward the open door, and in case things got worse—he was almost certain of that—he wanted the ion bombs to come a little farther away. "We're getting out of here," said Lucille, her voice steady and determined. "My family and the Wilsons are coming with us." Colonel Willis's expression didn't change at all, he still looked so stern and determined. "That's impossible," he said. “我要带走威尔逊一家，”露西尔说，“我要带他们回去。” “哈格雷夫太太。” “我理解你也要维护脸面。如果一个七十三岁的老太太，拿着一把小手枪，身后跟着一群乌合之众，就这么大摇大摆地把所有关押的犯人都带走了，你这个上司的面子恐怕很难看吧。我虽然不是军事谋略家，但这一点还是看得出来的。” “哈格雷夫太太。”威利斯上校又说了一遍。 “我没有多要求什么，只要本来就属于我的——我的家人和我保护的人。这是上帝赋予我的责任。” “上帝赋予的责任？” 哈罗德又把雅各布拉近了自己一些。阿卡迪亚镇上所有的犯人似乎都聚拢到了隔离栏这边，他用目光搜索了一下人群，希望能看到威尔逊一家。一旦冲突爆发，他有责任照顾他们。 “上帝赋予的责任。”露西尔强调了一遍，“不是《旧约》中那个为摩西分开海面，摧毁了法老军队的上帝，不，不是那个上帝。那个上帝可能已经被我们赶走了。” 二世又退后一步。 “士兵，站在原位！”威利斯上校大喊一声。 “哈罗德，带雅各布去安全的地方。”露西尔说。然后，她对威利斯上校说道：“必须终止这一切。我们不能再等待别人的救赎，上帝也帮不了我们，我们必须自己拯救自己。” “一步也不许动，列兵！”威利斯上校吼道，“你去卸下哈格雷夫太太的武器，这样我们今晚都可以安宁了。” 二世浑身发抖，他看着露西尔的双眼，似乎在问下一步应该怎么办。 “快跑吧，孩子。”她用对雅各布说话的语气说道。 “列兵！”二世伸手去掏枪。露西尔向他开枪了。 见露西尔开枪，她身后的那批复生者大军并没有太害怕，这出乎了士兵们的意料。也许因为他们中大部分已经死过一次，知道死亡无法永远禁锢他们。 这似乎算一种合理的解释，但好像又不是。 毕竟，他们还是人。 二世跌倒在人行道上，抱着腿疼得大叫，但是露西尔并没有像以往那样在他面前止步。她从他身上跨过去，径直走向威利斯上校。威利斯大喊着让士兵们原地开火，一边伸手到屁股后面去摸枪，不过他其实跟二世一样，也不想跟这个老太太动手。她毕竟跟复生者不同，她是活人。 士兵们开火了，有些子弹飞向人群，但是大部分不是飞向了天空，就是钻进了夏天温暖的土地。露西尔大步走向威利斯上校，举起了枪。 二世中枪之前，哈罗德已经把雅各布抱在怀里，跑到了手枪的射程之外，贝拉米也在后面不远处跟着。他很快赶上了哈罗德和孩子，然后也没多问，直接伸手从哈罗德怀里接过了雅各布。 “我们去找你妈。”哈罗德说。 “是，先生。”雅各布说。 “我不是在对你说，儿子。” “是，先生。”贝拉米说。 他们三人一起向着被包围的城区奔去。 复生者们手无寸铁，但是他们有人数上的优势，即便不算上站在露西尔身边声援的那些，南面的隔离栏边也还有上千名复生者。他们仍被滞留在阿卡迪亚，一直注视着事态的发展，人多到难以计数。 相比之下，士兵的数量微乎其微。 复生者们围上前去，他们不发一言，好像最终目的并不是这场行动，而是在进行一场表演。士兵们心里清楚，面对这样庞大的人群，他们的枪充其量只是装装样子罢了。果然，枪声没能持续多久。复生者如潮水般涌向那一小队士兵，瞬间淹没了他们。 露西尔的部队如浪潮一般滚滚向前。很快，她和被枪指着的上校之间就拉开了一段距离。嘶吼与互相扭打的声音不绝于耳，仿佛一曲混乱的交响乐——战斗双方都对生命怀有强烈的渴望。 楼房的窗户被打碎了，战斗还在继续。士兵们分散成小队，从前门的草地一路撤退到大楼门口。士兵们有时也能占些上风，因为那些复生者毕竟不是军人，当他们看到对方手中的枪时，依然会本能地感到害怕。 但是求生的欲望让他们有了动力，他们又冲上前去。 “你可能已经把那个孩子杀了。”威利斯上校的目光越过露西尔，看向后面的二世。他已经不叫唤了，至少自己还活着，而且除了腿部受伤，别的地方都没有大碍。于是他只是抱着腿轻声哼哼。 “他不会有事的，”露西尔说，“我还不会走路的时候，我父亲就教过我怎么开枪，我知道该打哪儿、怎么打。” “这么干没用的。” “我看已经管用了。” “他们会派更多的士兵过来。” “但是我们今天已经做出了正确的事，这个事实不会改变。”露西尔终于放下了枪，“他们会来找你算账的，”她说，“他们都是人，知道你干的那些事，所以他们会来找你算账的。” 威利斯把手擦干净，转过身，一言不发地走了。他向镇上走去，那里还有些零零散散的士兵，偶尔开上一两枪，企图把控制权夺回来。不过他们已经做不到了，那些复生者不可能再被关起来了。 威利斯上校什么也没说。 威尔逊一家随后也来了，还好一家人都还在：吉姆和康妮站在两边，像两扇屏障一般，把他们可爱的儿女夹在中间，保护着他们不受这个世界的伤害。吉姆朝露西尔点点头，说：“我希望这一切不是因为我们而起的。” 露西尔紧紧地拥抱了他一下，他身上有一股霉味，似乎很久没洗澡了。这反而让露西尔心里踏实了很多，因为很显然，他们一家在这儿都受了虐待。“我这么做是对的。”她自言自语。 吉姆·威尔逊正想问她这话是什么意思，而她肯定会挥挥手，让他赶快回家帮忙做饭，也许她还要发表一番长篇大论，教育他怎么管孩子。当然，她是一片好心，毫无恶意，只是想借机开个玩笑而已。 然而，远处飞来的一颗子弹射中了他，吉姆·威尔逊突然浑身一颤。 接着他倒下，死去了。 他们在办公室找到他时，他正盯着一墙的监视器看。他没有说话，也没有像克利斯以为的那样逃跑。他们进屋时，他站直了身体，盯着他们，倨傲地说：“我只是履行职责，仅此而已。”他这是在求饶，还是在给自己找借口？克利斯也说不清楚，但上校不像是那种爱找借口的人。 “我跟你们一样，完全不知道你们是什么东西。”上校说，“或许你们跟罗切斯特的那些家伙一样，准备抗争到底，再死一次，但我可不信你们会那样。”他摇了摇头，“不管你们是什么东西，都不会长久的，谁也不可能长久。”他又说，“我只是履行职责，仅此而已。” 这实在是戏剧化的一幕，克利斯一时还以为威利斯上校要自杀。但是他们抓住他之后才发现，他的手枪就放在桌子上，里面没有子弹。这几个星期以来，他一直通过墙上的那些监视器注视着复生者的生活——有时候，也有死亡。现在，所有的监视器中只有一个镜头，是一位黑人老太太孤零零地坐在自己的床上。 当他们把他架走，穿过学校大厅的时候，他深深地吸了一口气。克利斯很想知道，此时上校的心里到底在想什么。 房间的门打开了，里面有个男孩，穿着一身脏兮兮的衣服，因为不适应阳光而用一只颤抖的手捂住了眼睛。“我饿。”他虚弱地说。 其中两个人走进房间，把孩子弄出去。他们把他抱在怀里，带他离开了这座监狱。然后，他们把威利斯上校推进了这个曾被用来关押孩子的房间。关门上锁之前，克利斯看见上校正盯着外面这些复生者看。他的眼睛睁得大大的，满是惊奇，仿佛复生者们正在他眼前扩张，蔓延到全世界，充斥了地球的每一个角落。虽然他们已经死了，却要在这个世界上牢牢地扎下根来。 “那么，就这样吧。”克利斯听到上校说，虽然不知道他到底在对谁说话。 然后他们把门关上，锁了起来。