Chapter 55 Section fifty-four

Smithback held a flashlight, but the beam barely pierced the heavy darkness.D'Agosta slightly ahead, pistol at hand.The tunnel stretches on and on, and the sewage rushes through it, disappearing into the darkness under the low vault.Either they are still going downhill, or the current is getting higher.Smithback could feel the water rushing against his thighs. He glanced at D'Agosta, D'Agosta's face was full of shadows, his expression was solemn, and Beric's blood smeared his cheeks. "I can't go any further," someone cried from behind.Smithback could hear the mayor's familiar voice, which belonged to a politician, comforting everyone with a vow, telling everyone what they wanted to hear most.His trick seems to be working again.Smithback glanced back at the bewildered crowd.Thin bejeweled dames in evening gowns, middle-aged businessmen in tuxedos, yuppies from investment banks and downtown law firms.He knew everyone, and even called them all by name and position.But now they have all fallen into this situation: wandering in the deep tunnel, covered in mud, being chased and killed by ferocious monsters.

Smithback was worried, but not losing his mind.Earlier, when he realized that the rumors of the museum monster were true, panic had seized him briefly.But now, exhausted and drenched, he was more afraid of not finishing his new book than death itself.Not sure if that means he's brave or greedy or stupid.No matter what, he knew that what happened to him at this moment would be of great value.Host a launch reception at the Circus Restaurant.Good Morning America, The Today Show, Donahue, Oprah. No one can write about the story like him, and no other writer has his first-hand information.He will be a hero.He, William Smithback Jr., fended off the monster with a flashlight as D'Agosta went back to knock out the lock.He, Smithback, thought of jamming the door with a flashlight.He is the right-hand man of the deputy captain of D'Agosta.

"Look to the left, there." D'Agosta's words interrupted his train of thought, and Smithback obeyed.nothing. "I thought I saw movement in the darkness," D'Agosta murmured, "It must be a shadow." God, Smithback thought, must live and enjoy his success. "Is it just my imagination, or is the water really getting deeper?" he asked. "Not only is it getting deeper, but it's also getting faster and faster," D'Agosta replied. "Pendergast didn't say where he was going next." "He didn't say?" Smithback felt that his internal organs were about to turn into ice water.

"I was supposed to call him on the walkie-talkie at the second fork," D'Agosta said, "but the walkie-talkie was lost somewhere in front of the door." Smithback felt a strong stream of water hit his leg.Shouting and splashing came from behind. Smithback shone a flashlight to the rear, and the mayor yelled, "It's okay, someone fell. The water is getting stronger." "You can't tell everybody we're lost," Smithback whispered to D'Agosta. Margo opened the door to the safekeeping area, took a quick look, and nodded to Pendergast.The agent dragged the package through the door.

"Shut it up in the warehouse where Whitsey's crates are kept," said Flock. "It must be delayed long enough for us to close the door." Margo opened the vault door, and Pendergast walked around the complicated route.They put the package in the room and locked the ornate door of the vault. "Quick," said Margot, "go down the corridor." They opened the door to the secure holding area, walked through the hallway and ducked into the storage room where the elephant bones were kept.The glass of the small window on the door has long been broken, and now only a piece of cardboard is used to cover the window.Margot opens the door with Flock's key, and Pendergast pushes Flock inside.Margot lit Pendergast's flashlight, turned it to the lowest setting, and set it on the ledge above the door, directing its thin beam toward the safekeeping area.She poked a small hole in the cardboard with a pen, took one last look down the hallway, and walked into the room.

The storage room is huge, full of elephant bones.Most of the skeleton had disintegrated, and the thick bones piled on the shelves looked like oversized lumber.In the far corner was a erected skeleton, black as a cage, a pair of curved tusks gleaming in the dim light. Pendergast shut the door and extinguished the lamp on the miner's hat. Margo looked out through the small hole in the cardboard, and she could see the hallway and the open door of the safe-keeping area. "Look," she said to Pendergast, stepping away from the door. Pendergast stepped forward and said after a while, "Very good. As long as the batteries in the flashlight last, we're safe." He backed away from the door and asked curiously, "How could you Remember this room?"

Margot smiled shyly. "I remember when you brought us here on Wednesday, I saw a door marked 'Pachyderm' and wondered how the staff could fit an elephant bone into such a small door." She walked up Go ahead, "I'm on the lookout from the peephole. Be ready to rush out and get that thing in secure storage." Flock cleared his throat in the darkness behind them. "Mr. Pendergast?" "how?" "Forgive me for asking, what is your experience with weapons?" "Honestly," the detective replied, "before my wife passed away, I was going to East Africa every winter for a few weeks, hunting big game. My wife used to love hunting."

"Aha," Flock replied, and Margo could hear him breathing a sigh of relief, "this animal is very difficult to kill, but I don't think it's impossible. I'm obviously not very good at hunting, but if we work together Cooperation should still defeat it." Pendergast nodded: "Unfortunately, this gun puts me at a disadvantage. As a pistol, it is indeed quite powerful, but it cannot be compared to a .375 caliber high-speed shotgun that uses nitro gunpowder. It would be helpful if you could say what the weakness of this animal is." "As far as the calculations are concerned," Flock said slowly, "we can assume that this animal is heavy-boned. As you have already discovered, a shot to the head will not kill it. A shot to the upper back or chest to the heart will certainly kill it. Bounced off by the thick bones and muscles of the upper body. Maybe hit the heart from the back of the front legs if you can find a side shot angle. However, its ribcage is probably like a steel cage. Come to think of it, I don't think there is a fatal part of this animal Weakness. A midsection shot should kill it, but it will take too long to stop it from counterattacking before it dies."

"It's hard to be reassuring," Pendergast said. Flock moved in the dark: "So we are in a dilemma." After a moment of silence, Pendergast suddenly said, "Maybe there is another way." "How?" asked Flock eagerly. "A few years ago, my wife and I hunted bushbuck in Tanzania. We like to go out alone and don't need someone to help carry the gun, so we only carry a 30-30 shotgun with us. We were lying in an ambush by the river, and suddenly there was a big South African buffalo Attack on us. This big buffalo was wounded by poachers a few days ago. The South African buffalo has a mule-like temperament: on the one hand it never forgets its wounds, on the other hand, people with guns all look alike .”

"Normally when you're hunting big buffalo," says Pendergast, "you're aiming for the horns or the heart. If that's the case, then the 30-30 isn't enough caliber. My wife shot it. With better aim than I did, she used tactics that only a hunter would use in this situation. She got down on one knee and fired at this big buffalo with the aim of knocking it down." "knock down?" "That is, the goal is not to kill the opponent, but to stop its ability to advance. Aim for the front leg, the pastern, or the knee. Smash as many bones as possible so that it cannot go forward."

"I see," said Flock. "There's just one problem with this approach," Pendergast said. "yes--?" "You have to be a good gunslinger. Posture is critical, you have to be calm, hold your body, hold your breath, shoot between heartbeats, and face a ferocious beast that is charging at you. Every time we A man has four chances to shoot. I made a mistake and aimed at the buffalo's chest twice before I realized the bullet was buried in the muscle. I then aimed at its leg. The first shot missed the target , the second shot was just a bruise and failed to break the bone." He shook his head, "I'm very sorry, it was a very unsuccessful experience." "And then?" said Flock. "Three of my wife's four shots hit, breaking the radius and ulna of both front legs and one forefoot. The buffalo rolled forward and fell, only a few yards from where we knelt. It was alive, but not injured. I can't move. So, in the parlance of professional hunters, I'm 'insured'." "I wish your wife was here," said Flock. Pendergast pondered for a long time, and finally said: "Me too." Silence once again enveloped the room. "Very well," Flock broke the silence, "I see what you mean. If you plan to... er... take down this monster, you should know a few unusual features about it. First, its The rear half of the body is probably covered with bony plates or scales. Your gun will probably not be able to penetrate it. In my estimation, the thighs and lower legs are covered with bony plates or scales, extending down to the metatarsals." "I see." "You have to aim low and hit the first or second phalanx." "The two lowest bones in the leg," Pendergast said. "Yes. They're the horse's pasterns. Aim for just under the joint. The joint itself may be its weak point, after all." "It's very difficult to shoot," Pendergast said. "If it's facing me, it's almost impossible." There was a momentary silence in the room.Margo continued to watch the corridor through the peephole, but said nothing. "I think the forelimbs of this thing are more prone to injury," continued Flock. "Extraverters describe the forelimbs as being less strong. A direct hit to the metacarpal and wrist joint should injure it." "The front of the knee and lower leg," Pendergast nodded. "The target you describe is already very unusual. How far does this animal have to be knocked down before it becomes incapacitated?" "It's hard to say. I'm afraid two front legs and at least one hind leg will be injured. Even so, it can still crawl." Flock coughed twice. "Can it be done?" "If that thing charges at me, I'll need at least a hundred and fifty feet of room to shoot, or I'll have no chance. Best to fire the first shot before it gets the hang of it. Should slow it down .” Flock thought for a moment. "The museum has some very long straight corridors, three or four hundred feet long. Unfortunately, most of them are separated by bloody security doors. But I think there should still be a There is one unobstructed corridor. In the eighteenth area on the first floor, just around the corner from the computer room." Pendergast nodded. "I'll keep that in mind," he said, "in case the plan fails." "There's movement!" Margo whispered. The three fell silent.Pendergast approached the door. "A dark figure has just blocked the light at the end of the corridor," she whispered. There was another long silence. "There," Margo whispered, "I can see." Her voice became softer: "Oh, my God." Pendergast whispered in Margo's ear, "Get out of the door!" Margot stepped back, barely daring to breathe. "What is it doing?" she said softly. "Stopped at the door of the safekeeping area," Pendergast replied calmly, "went in for a while, then backed out quickly. Looking around, sniffing the air." "What does it look like?" Flock's voice was eager. Pendergast paused for a few seconds before replying, "I can see clearly this time. It's huge. Wait a minute, it's turned around... God, it's horrible, it... it has a flat Small red eyes. Sparse hair on upper body. Exactly like a statue. Wait...wait...it's coming this way." Margot suddenly realized that she had retreated to the bottom of the wall.There was a sniffing sound outside the door.The rotten stench came immediately.She slid down in the dark, the peepholes in the cardboard flickering like stars.Pendergast's flashlight glowed dimly.Starlight... A faint voice sounded in Margo's head. A black shadow fell on the peephole, and the surroundings suddenly became dark. There was a muffled slam on the door, the old wooden door creaking.The doorknob clicked and turned.There was a long silence, then heavy footsteps, then the harsh crackling of the monster against the door. The faint voice in Margot's head suddenly became louder. "Pendergast, turn on the lamp in the miner's hat!" she cried, "shine it!" "what are you saying?" "It's a nocturnal animal! It should be afraid of light." "Absolutely!" cried Flock. "Stand back!" cried Pendergast.Margot heard a soft click, and the blinding glare of the miner's hat fell briefly on her face.When Margot regained her vision, she saw Pendergast kneeling on one knee, aiming the flat-end pistol at the door, and the dazzling light pointing directly at the center of the room. There was another click, and a wide crack appeared on the upper half of the door, and sawdust splashed everywhere.The door curves toward the interior. Pendergast remained where he was, looking straight ahead along the barrel of the gun. There was another loud cracking sound, and the door shattered inwards in pieces, swinging back and forth on bent hinges.Margot pressed against the wall tightly, as if trying to squeeze into the wall, making her spine crack.She heard Flock's cry, surprise and exclamation and terror in it.The monster crouched in the doorway, a terrifying silhouette in the blinding lights; suddenly it roared from the back of its throat, shook its head, and retreated. "Don't come up," said Pendergast.He kicked open the broken door and moved into the corridor step by step.Margot heard a loud bang, followed by another.Silence ensued.After an unknown amount of time, Pendergast returned to the room and motioned for them to come over.Small red drops of blood stretched forward along the corridor, and disappeared around the corner. "Blood!" Flock snorted, and leaned over, "You hurt it!" Pendergast shrugged: "Maybe. But I wasn't the first to injure it. The drops of blood came from the direction of the lower basement. Do you understand? Vice-captain D'Agosta or one of his subordinates had already Wounded it a few times, but couldn't stop it. It's moving very fast." Margot looked at Flock and said, "Why didn't he take the bait?" Flock looked back at her. "The monster we're dealing with has extraordinary intelligence." "Are you saying it sensed our trap?" Pendergast said suspiciously. "Let's put it this way, Pendergast, would you be fooled if it were you?" Pendergast fell silent, and finally said: "Probably not." "That's it," Flock replied. "We underestimated it. It can no longer be thought of as a stupid beast. Its intelligence is comparable to that of a human being. If I remember correctly, the one that the guests found at the exhibition site The corpse is hidden, isn't it? The monster knows you're hunting it. Apparently, it's learned how to hide its prey. And—" He hesitated for a moment, "I think we have more to deal with than just hunger and thirst .It's possible that the humans it ate tonight have satisfied its thirst. But on the other hand it's injured. If your analogy with the South African buffalo makes sense, the animal may not be hungry right now, but Very angry." "So you think it's hunting man?" said Pendergast calmly. Flock sat quite still for a while, and finally nodded slightly. "So, who's hunting whom now?" asked Margot.No one answered.