Chapter 34 34

Her first thought as she came back was that darkness meant she was dead. Her second thought was that if she were dead, her right hand wouldn't hurt as much as if it had been doused with aluminum soap-type jelly oil and then peeled off with a razor blade.Her third thought was her dismayed realization that if she opened her eyes and saw darkness, as it seemed to be the case, then the sun had already set.This thought startled her to get up hastily from where she was lying down. She was not very awake, but felt the fatigue after the shock.At first she couldn't remember why the thought of the sunset terrified her so much, and then all the images of the monster came back to her mind like electric shocks, very strong.The narrow, corpse-pale face, the high forehead, the rapturous eyes.

When she was lying on the bed, in a semi-conscious state, the wind blew again, and the back door made another bang bang sound.For a moment the door and the wind were the only sounds.Then, a trembling howl sounded in the air.It was, Jessie believed, the worst sound she had ever heard.She imagined that a victim who had been buried alive had been found, pulled out of the coffin, alive but insane, and she might have made that sound. The voice faded into the unquiet night—it was night, no doubt.But after a while, it rang again.It was an inhuman falsetto, full of idiotic terror.It came at her like a living thing, and she shuddered helplessly on the bed. She groped and covered her ears, but when the terrible sounds rang out for the third time, she couldn't stop them.

"Hey, stop listening," she moaned.She had never felt so cold, so cold, so cold. "Oh, don't...don't bark." The howling faded away into the blustery night, and Jessie had a moment to catch her breath when she realized that it was just a dog after all--in fact, maybe it was the dog.The dog turned her husband into its own McDonald's restaurant.Then, the shouting sounded again.It is unbelievable that there are animals in nature that can make such sounds.It must be a female ghost, or a vampire writhing in agony with a picket in his chest.As the howl rose to a clear top pitch, Jessie suddenly understood why the beast made such a miserable sound.

It came back, just as she had feared.Somehow, the dog knew, and felt it. She trembled all over, her eyes frantically searching the corner of the room where her visitor had stood the night before--the corner where he had left a pearl earring and a footprint.It was too dark to see either (she always assumed they were there).But for a moment, Jessie thought, she saw that thing, and she felt a scream in her throat.She closed her eyes tightly, then opened them again, but saw nothing, only the shadows of trees swaying when the wind passed by the west window.Farther in that direction, beyond the swinging pine shadow, she could see a fading smear of gold on the horizon.

It might be seven o'clock, but if I can still see the last rays of the setting sun, maybe it's not that late.That means I'm only free for an hour, an hour and a half at most.Maybe it's not too late to leave here.Maybe-- This time, the dog seemed to be really barking.The sound made Jesse want to scream in response.She held onto one of the bedposts as she began to wobble standing there again.She suddenly realized that at first she couldn't remember getting out of bed, and the dog scared her to death. Control yourself, girl.Take a deep breath and get yourself under control.

She did take a deep breath.She is familiar with the air she breathes.It was like the faint mineral smell that had haunted her all these years—the smell that meant sex, water, and dad to her—but not quite, there seemed to be some other smell, or something mixed in. into that smell—old garlic, old onions, dust... maybe unwashed feet.The smell sent Jessie back down the well of the years and filled her with fear.When children sense some faceless, nameless monster—some It—waiting patiently under the bed for them to stretch out a foot or drop a hand, that inexpressible, hopeless dread . The wind was blowing and the door was banging.Somewhere nearby, a plank creaked quietly, like someone trying to walk softly without making a sound.

it came back. her mind whispered.All the voices were speaking now, and they had twisted into a braid. That's what dogs smell, and that's what you smell.Jesse, that's what's creaking the planks.That thing that was here last night is back for you. "Oh, God, please don't," she moaned, "Oh, God, don't do it, oh, God, don't do it, oh, dear God, don't let this happen." She tried to move, but her feet were frozen to the floor and her left hand was nailed to the bedpost.She was immobilized by fear, exactly as a fawn or a rabbit would be immobilized by the headlights of an approaching car in the middle of the road.She'll stand here, moaning under her breath, trying to pray until it comes to her and kills her.His sample box is full of bones, rings...

The barking of the dog pierced the night sky and rang in her head, and she thought it would drive her mad. I was dreaming, that's why I can't remember standing up.Dreams are an abbreviated version of Reader's Digest in the mind.When you dream, you can't remember the unimportant things at all.Yes, I don't know anything - it happened, but I didn't fall into a coma, just a natural sleep.That means I must have stopped bleeding, I thought.Because, I suppose, people who bleed to death don't have nightmares when they're about to die.I was sleeping, that's all, sleeping, having all kinds of nightmares.

It's a brilliant, reassuring thought, except for one thing: it's not the truth.The tree shadows swaying on the wall by the desk were real, as was the strange smell that wafted into the house.She is conscious, she has to get out of here. I can't move!she lamented. No, you can move.Ruth told her gravely.You didn't get out of those goddamn manacles to die of fear, baby.Now, get moving—you don't need me to tell you how to move, do you? "Yes." Jesse whispered.She tapped the bedpost with the back of her right hand, and there was an instant pain, and the panic that had been holding her shattered like glass.Jessie could barely hear when the dog let out that horrific howl again—her hand was much closer to her, and the howl of her hand was much louder than the dog's bark.

You know what to do next, baby, don't you? Yep - time to imitate a hockey player and get the puck out of here.It's time to imitate the library and check out the books.Gerald's rifle came to her mind for a moment, and then she pushed the thought away.Even if the gun was in the house, she would have no idea where it was kept. With trembling legs, Jessie walked slowly and carefully across the room.She held out her left hand again for balance.The hall beyond the bedroom door was a merry-go-round of ever-moving shadows.The door to the guest room on the right was open, as was the door to the small spare room on the left that Gerald used as a study.Further to the left is the hallway leading to the kitchen and living room.On the right is the unlocked rear door...Mercedes...perhaps Liberty.

Fifty steps, no more than that, maybe a few steps less.So get moving, shall we? But at first she couldn't move.In the eyes of others, this is undoubtedly very strange. What she has experienced in the past day and night has not been experienced by others.The bedroom represented a somber safe place to her.And the foyer...anything could be lurking there.Then something hit the west side of the house, just outside the window, and it sounded like a stone being thrown.Jessie let out a horrified growl before realizing it was just a branch of the old blue spruce on the terrace outside. Hold yourself in check, Baby said sternly.Get yourself under control and get out of here. She stubbornly continued to stagger forward, with her left arm still outstretched, counting steps in a low voice as she walked.She took twelve steps across the guest room.When you walk fifteen steps, you arrive at Gerald's study.As she walked, she began to hear a low, untuned hissing sound, like steam escaping from a very old radiator.At first, Jesse didn't associate the sound with the study.She thought it was her own voice.Then, as she lifted her right foot to take the sixteenth step, the voice intensified.This time it was delivered more clearly.Jessie realized that she couldn't have made the sound because she had been holding her breath. Slowly, very slowly, she turned her head towards the study.Her husband could no longer be there dealing with legal papers while smoking Marlboro after Marlboro and humming "Old Boy by the Sea" under his breath.Around her house moaned like a wreck on a rough sea, creaking at its joints as the wind whipped it around in cool air.Now, besides the banging of the door, there is the clacking of the shutters, somewhere else in the world where wives are not handcuffed, and husbands do not refuse to listen to their wives, Nocturnal animals do not stalk their prey.Turning her head she heard the muscles and tendons in her neck creak like old bed springs, and her eyes danced in their sockets like two hot coals. I do not want to see!Her mind was screaming.I don't want to see, I don't want to see things! But she couldn't help looking.It was as if a pair of powerful invisible hands turned her head away.And now the wind was howling, the back door was banging, the shutters were rattling, and the dog was spiraling its shrill, human barking into the October night again.She turned her head until she stared at her late husband's study--yes, sure enough, it was there.A tall figure stood in front of the sliding glass doors, beside Gerald's Eames swivel chair.Its narrow pale face hung like an elongated skeleton in the darkness, and the black square shape of the gift box crouched between its feet. She took a breath and tried to scream, but the sound came out like a teapot with a broken whistle: "Ho... ho... ho..." That's all and nothing else. Hot urine ran down her legs.During the day, she has wet her pants twice in a record breaking time.In that other world, the wind was blowing, shaking the bones of the house.The blue spruce beat the west wall again with its branches, and Gerald's study became a lagoon of swaying shadows.Once again it was very difficult for her to make out what she saw... or rather, she saw nothing at all. The dog let out another horrific bark. Ah, you did see it.Maybe not like the dog outside, smelling it, but you saw it. As if to remove any lingering doubts she might have had about the subject, her visitor poked her head forward in feigned curiosity to give Jessie a clear look at it - an alien face, trying to mimic a human The facial features are not very successful.First, the face was too narrow—narrower than any face Jessie had ever seen in his life.The nose seemed as wide as a butter knife.The high forehead bulged like a curious bulb in a vegetable garden.The eyes are just two dark circles under the sparse inverted V-shaped eyebrows.Its thick, reddish-brown lips seemed to be pursed, and at the same time quite gentle. No, not mild. She thought with extraordinary clarity.In an atmosphere of extreme horror, there is sometimes limited sanity, like the glowing filament of a light bulb. Not gentle, but smiling.It was trying to smile at me. Then, it bent down to get its case.It's that narrow.The discordant face mercifully disappeared from her view again.Jessie took a step back without knowing it. She wanted to scream again, but all she could do was a sharp, inarticulate whine. Even the whine and hiss of the wind from the eaves was louder than her voice. Her visitor stood up again, holding the case in one hand and opening it with the other.Jessie realized two things: The first had to do with the smell she had noticed earlier.It wasn't the smell of garlic or onions or sweat or dust, it was the smell of rotting meat.The second thing has to do with the thing's arms.Now that she was closer, she could see better (she didn't want that, but it was).They made a stronger impression on her—a monstrous, elongated thing that seemed to flap like tentacles in the shadows of the trees in the wind.They presented the box to her as if to gain her approval.Now Jessie saw that it wasn't the salesman's box, but a wicker box that looked like a fisherman's huge crate. I've seen boxes like that before, I don't know if it was on some old TV show or in real life.But I have.When I was a little girl it came out of a long black car with doors in the back. The voice of an unknown object suddenly sounded in her head, not friendly but soft.Jesse, back in the days when President Kennedy was alive, when all the little girls were called Babes, before plastic body bags were invented—say, back in the days of the eclipse, boxes like this were very common.They come in all sizes, from oversized men to six-month-old miscarriages, an old-fashioned coffin. When she realized this, she also realized something else.Her visitor smelled so bad because it was dead.The thing in Gerald's study wasn't her father, it was a zombie. No... no, that can't be— But it is a zombie.Less than three hours before, she had smelled the same smell on Gerald. It seemed that some strange disease was slowly emanating from his flesh, and only the dead could suffer from that strange disease. Now her visitor opened the case again and reached out to her.Again she saw gold and diamonds gleaming among the piles of bones, and the dead man's slender hands reached into the wicker box in which the corpse was held, and began to stir the contents - the box might have once held a baby or a young child. corpse.Again she heard the eerie click and rustle of bones, like castanets scraping dust. Jesse was stunned, dazed, almost mad with terror.Her sanity was fading, she could feel it fading, almost hear it fading.On God's green earth, she has nothing to do. No, there are!you can run away!You must run away, and you must run at once! It's baby, she's screaming in the dust...but she's too far away too, lost in a deep chasm somewhere in Jesse's mind.She found that there were many canyons, many dark, winding underwater cliffs and caves.These are not at all visible in sunlight - so to speak, where the eclipse will never end.This is so funny.A man's mind is really nothing more than a cemetery built in a dark clearing, with such grotesque amphibians crawling about on the bottom of the cemetery.Finding these is so fun, fun. Outside, the dog barked again, and Jesse finally made a sound.She howled, it was the sound of a dog barking, and most of her sanity had failed in her voice.She could imagine herself making that cry in some madhouse, making it for the rest of her life.She found it very easy to imagine that. Jesse, no!Get it under control!Hold your head and run!run away! Her visitor grinned at her, its lips parted from the gums and puckered, revealing again the golden glint inside the mouth, a sheen that reminded her of Gerald.Gold teeth, it has gold teeth, that means it's— means it's real.Yes.But we've established that, haven't we?The only question left is what to do now.Jesse, any ideas?If there are, it is best to take them out, because time is too short. The ghost took a step forward, still holding out the open chest, as if expecting her to admire its contents.She saw it was wearing a necklace—some kind of queer necklace.That strong, unpleasant smell got stronger.The unmistakable sense of malevolence also intensified.Jessie tried to take a step back to pull the client away from the step forward towards her.But found that her feet could not move, as if they were glued to the floor. It's going to kill you, baby.Ruth said.Jesse knew it was true.Are you going to let it do that?There was neither anger nor sarcasm in Ruth's voice now, only curiosity.After all that's happened, are you really going to let it do that? Dogs barked, hands stirred, bones rustled, diamonds and rubies gleamed dimly at night. The trembling thumb and forefinger of Jessie's right hand grasped the two rings on her own left middle finger.She barely realizes she's doing this, let alone why she's doing it.The pain in the back of her hand was vague and distant as she squeezed her fingers.She almost always wore both rings throughout her married years.The last time she took them off, she had to lubricate her fingers with soap.Not this time, the ring slipped off easily this time. She stretched her bloody right hand toward the thing, which now came up to the bookcase inside the study door.The ring lay in the palm of her hand, just below the substitute bandage made of sanitary pads, forming a mysterious "8" shape.The thing stopped, its thick, shapeless mouth quivering, and the smile shifted to some new expression, which might be anger, or confusion. "Here you are," Jesse growled hoarsely. "Here you go. Take them. Take them and let me go." Before the thing could react, she threw the ring into the open case, just as she once threw coins into the change basket at the tax card in New Hampshire.There were less than five paces between them now, and the mouth of the box was so wide that both rings were thrown into it.She heard two distinct clicks as her engagement and wedding rings fell on the stranger's pile of bones. The thing's lips parted again, revealing its teeth.It began to hiss indistinctly again.It takes another step forward.Something—something that had been lying in the back of her mind, shocking and doubtful, awoke. "NO!" she screamed.She turned and staggered toward the hall, while the wind blew, the door rattled, the shutters rattled, and the dog barked. It's right behind her. Yes, she could hear the hiss.It could reach out and grab her at any moment, its thin, pale hands floating at the ends of monstrous, tentacled arms.She felt the foul-smelling pale fingers about to grab her throat— Then she came to the back door, and as soon as it opened, she fell to the doorstep and tripped over her right foot.Strangely enough, when I fall, I can still remind myself to turn over and let my left side land on the ground.She turned her body, but she still fell hard enough that there were stars in her eyes.She rolled over on her back, staring up at the door, expecting to see the pale face of the monster appear behind the lattice door, but no, she didn't hear the hissing sound again.This is of secondary importance, and the important thing is that it will rush into her eyes at any time, grab her, and slit her throat. Jessie struggled to get his feet up, barely taking a step.Due to the shock and excessive blood loss, her legs refused to call the shots.She leaned her back on the board next to the lid of the trash can, moaned and looked up into the space, half of the moon was inlaid in the sky, and the clouds were flying at full speed from west to east as if possessed, casting cloud shadows like wonderful tattoo patterns from her across the face.At this time, the dog barked again, and the sound outside sounded closer.This gave her that little extra boost she needed.With her left hand, she reached toward the low slope of the dumpster, groped for the handle, and used it to pull herself up.She stood clutching the handle until the world stopped spinning.Then she let go and walked slowly towards the Mercedes, now with her arms outstretched for balance. How the house looks like a skeleton in the moonlight! As she opened her eyes wide for the first time and looked back throbbing, she couldn't help but marvel. How like a skeleton!The door is the mouth, the window is the eyes, the shadow of the tree is the hair... Then another idea occurred to her, which must be very funny, and her hysterical laughter broke into the windy night. And the brain—don't forget the brain.Needless to say that Gerald was the brain, the dead and rotting brain of the house. When she got to the car she laughed again, louder than ever, and the dog barked in response.My dog ​​has fleas and they bite his knees, she thought.Her own knees were shaking as she grabbed the door handle to keep from falling into the driveway.Meanwhile, her laughter never stopped.Why on earth she was laughing, she did not understand.If that part of her brain that had shut down in self-defense woke up again, she might understand.But as long as she doesn't leave here, it won't happen.I wish she could leave. "I think I'll need a blood transfusion eventually, too," she said.This made her laugh again.She reached awkwardly into the right pocket with her left hand, still smiling.She was groping for the key when suddenly the smell seemed to come back, and the living thing with the crate was standing behind her. Jessie turned around, the laughter still in her throat, the smile still twisting her lips.At that moment, she did see that narrow face, those eyes with bottomless obsession. She was terrified, but when she looked again, the back porch was empty, the tall rectangle a grid door in the dark. But you'd better hurry up, Mrs. Burlingame said, yes, you'd better be a hockey player while you still have strength.Don't you think so? "Turning to split like an amoeba," Jesse agreed.She smiled and took the keys out of her pocket.The key nearly slipped from her fingers, but she held on to the large plastic charm. "You sexy thing," Jessie said, grinning brightly again.Just then, the door slammed, and the dead cowboy, the monster, rushed out of the house, raising a dirty cloud of white bone dust, but when she turned around (albeit a large ornament, her car The key still nearly dropped), there was nothing there but the wind that was banging the door—just the wind and nothing else. She opened the driver's door, got behind the steering wheel of the Mercedes, and dragged herself in with trembling legs.She slammed the car door shut.A wave of inexpressible relief swept over her as she pressed the master lock that locked all the other doors (plus, of course, the trunk lock, for there really was nothing in the world like the German lock).Relief, there is something else.That something else feels like lucid sanity.The joyous return of sanity, she thought, was something she had never felt in her entire life like... except, of course, the feeling of taking that first sip of water from the tap.Jessie knew she would be the winner in the end. How close am I to going crazy here?Really, how close? That's probably not something you want to know for sure, baby. Ruth Nyerel answered gravely. Yes, maybe so.Jesse put the key in the ignition switch and turned it, but nothing happened. The final smile froze, but she didn't panic, she still felt lucid, relatively sane. Think about it, Jesse. She thought that she would find the answer almost immediately.This Mercedes is an old car, and with or without German locks, the transmission has recently started to have annoying little troubles.Sometimes, one of them wouldn't start unless the driver pushed the gear lever up, and had to push hard.It takes two hands to turn the ignition while pushing the gear lever.Her right hand throbbed so badly that she hesitated at the thought of using that hand to push the gear lever.It's not just about pain.She was sure that would open the deep gash on the inside of her wrist even wider. "God, please, I need some help here," Jesse whispered.She turned the key in the ignition again, still no response, not even a click.Now a new thought crept into her mind like a petulant petty thief: her inability to start the car had nothing to do with a glitch in the transmission, it was more likely the work of her visitor.Not only did it cut the phone line, it lifted the hood of the Mercedes, ripped off the switchboard cap and threw it into the woods. The door was still banging.Jesse glanced nervously in that direction.She was sure that for a moment she saw the pale, grinning face in the darkness of the doorway, and that it would come out before long.It will pick up a rock and smash the window glass, then pick up a thick shard of glass— Jessie's left hand reached across his waist, pushing the knob of the shift lever as hard as he could (although in fact it hardly moved at all), and then his right hand awkwardly slid around the lower arc of the steering wheel to grab the ignition key. , turned up. There was still no movement, except that the monster who was paying attention to her was laughing silently triumphantly.Even if the laughter was only in her consciousness, she could hear it clearly. "Oh God, can't the fuck I have a lucky hour?" she yelled.The gear lever squirmed slightly in her palm, and this time Jessie turned the key to the start position, and the engine roared to life—Ja, mein Fuhrer (Ha, my Führer)!Sobbing in relief, she turned on the headlights.A pair of bright orange eyes stared at her from the driveway.She screamed, feeling her heart trying to tear itself out of its veins, into her throat and suffocate her.It was the dog, of course—the dhole was, in a sense, Gerald's last client. The former prince stood motionless, momentarily dazzled by the blinding headlights.If Jesse had dropped the gear lever at that moment, the car might have rushed forward and crushed it.The thought even crossed her mind, but in a vague, remote way.Her hatred and fear of dogs had vanished.She saw how scrawny he was, how the burdocks were clinging to his matted fur--fur that was too thin to protect against the coming cold.Most of all, she saw it cowering away from headlights, its ears flopping and its hind legs rumpled in the driveway. I don't think I can do that, and I believe I've met someone worse than my fate. She pressed the horn of the Mercedes car with the heel of the palm of her left hand, and let out a short beep, which was more like a beep than a beep.But that was enough to drive the dog away.It turned around and disappeared into the forest without looking back. Do it like it is, Jesse.Get out of here while you can still hold on. good idea.Actually, that's just an idea.Her left hand crossed her body again, this time pulling the gear lever into drive.With a reassuring jerk, as usual, it began to creep up the paved driveway.On both sides of the car window, the car wind shakes the tree shadows, like a dancer, like a funnel-shaped whirlwind that comes for the first time in autumn, sending the fallen leaves into the night sky. I'm doing this, I'm actually doing this, I'm actually pushing the puck out of here. She was driving in the driveway, heading for the unnamed driveway.This road would take her to Lane Bay, which would take her to State Highway 117, and back to civilization.As she watches in the rearview mirror, the house shrinks (it looks more than ever on a windy October night like a giant white skull). Why did it let me go?Did it let me go?Do you really let me go? A part of her—the part that was freaking out, the part that was never going to be completely free from the handcuffs and the master bedroom at the cottage on the Cove above Cashwickmark—assured her that it hadn't let her go.The thing with the crate was just teasing her, like a cat playing with a wounded mouse.Before she had gone any further, and certainly before she had reached the end of the driveway, it would run after her, closing the distance between them with its long, comic-looking legs.Then it stretched out its long comic-like arms and grabbed the rear bumper to stop the car.German cars are efficient, but when you're dealing with something from hell... However, the house was still shrinking in the rearview mirror, and nothing came out of the back door.Jessie reached the end of the driveway. She turned right and began to steer the car into the narrow driveway leading to Lane Bay. She steered the steering wheel with her left hand.Every year or two in August, a group of volunteers from the residents will cut down the bushes and trim the drooping branches along the road leading out to Lane Bay.Mostly, they do so, inspired by beer and small talk.But this year is a gap year, and the road is narrower than Jesse hoped.Whenever the wind blows the branches and hits the roof or body of the car, she shrinks a little. However, she is fleeing here.One by one, the road signs she's been familiar with all these years appear in the headlights and disappear behind her.The huge rock with the cracked top, the overgrown gate with the fading sign nailed to it, 'Motorists Hideout', the uprooted spruce leaning against a row of smaller spruces In the middle, like a tall drunk being sent home by his smaller, livelier friends, Drunk Spruce is only three-tenths of a mile from Lane Bay, and from there the highway is only two miles away. "I can handle it if I relax," she said, carefully pressing the radio button with her right thumb.Bach's music—soft, dignified, and, above all, rational—sounds through the car, and it keeps getting better. "Relax," she repeated, louder. "Grease." Even the last shock—the orange eyes staring at the dingo—was a little bit worn off now, though she felt herself start to shake. "No problem at all, as long as I relax." She was indeed relaxing—maybe a little too much, in fact.The needle on the speedometer just hit the ten-mile-per-hour mark.Locked safely in this familiar environment in her own car, she was already starting to wonder if it was too soon for her to take everything for granted like a magical high.If anyone had been in the house, it might be following her at this moment.A really determined stalker might even catch up to her if she continued at a mere ten miles an hour. Jessie tried to assure himself that the notion was actually a nervous jitter brought on by shock and exhaustion.She glanced into the rearview mirror, felt her heart stop in her chest, and her left hand slammed from the steering wheel onto her right knee, which would have hurt her like hell, but she didn't feel it, absolutely. no pain- The stranger was sitting in the backseat, his eerie long hands resting on the sides of his head, like a monkey that doesn't like to listen to bad words.Its dark eyes stared at her with utterly mystical interest. You see... I see... we see... only tree shadows! cried Baby.But this sound is very far away, it seems to come from the end of the universe. And it's not true.She saw more than tree shadows in the mirror.The thing sitting behind got confused in the tree shadows.Yes, not made with tree shadows.She saw its face: a protruding forehead, round black eyes, a nose as thin as a blade, thick, shapeless lips. "Jessie!" whispered the monster excitedly, "Nora! Ruth! God-hey-god! Baby!" She stared blankly at the mirror as her passenger leaned forward slowly.She saw its swollen forehead nodding up and down toward her right ear, as if examining a secret.She saw its thick lips parted, showing its discolored fangs, and that strange grin that was repulsive.It was at this point that Jesse Bellingham's mind finally began to break. No!Her own voice was calling, a voice as weak as a singer's voice on an old seventy-eight-per-minute hissing record. No!Please don't!It's not fair! "Jessie!" The stench was as sharp as a file and as cold as the air in a meat freezer. "Nora! Jessie! Ruth! Honey! Ma'am! Jessie! Mommy!" Her bulging eyes noticed that its long, pale face was now half buried in her hair.它一遍又一遍地低声说着它美妙的秘密，咧开的嘴巴几乎吻着了她的耳朵。 “杰西！诺拉！宝贝儿！杰西！杰西！杰西！” 她的眼睛内发生了白色的空中爆炸，留下了一个巨大的黑洞。当她坠入这个黑洞时，最后一个连贯的思想是—— 我本不应该看的——它到底还是灼伤了我的眼睛。 随之而来，她朝前倒在了方向盘上晕了过去。梅塞德斯车撞在地区分界线的一棵大松树上，安全带扣住了她，将她又拉了回来。如果梅塞德斯是近期的产品，装有防撞系统的话，这样的撞击会自动打开保险气袋的。车撞得不厉害，不足以损坏引擎，或者使它熄火。老德国车的高效能又一次赢了。保险杠和散热器的护栅都撞出了四痕，车篷上的装饰也给撞歪了，可是发动机却尽情地自个儿空转着。 大约五分钟以后，安装在仪表板下面的集成电路察觉到现在发动机够热的了，像是打开了加热器。仪表板下的鼓风机开始呼呼地吹起柔和的风来。杰西朝一边歪倒在驾驶室的门边，她面颊贴着玻璃躺着，看上去像个疲倦的孩子，最终放弃了努力，睡着了，而孩子的奶奶家就在下一座山的那一边。她的上方，后视镜反射出空荡荡的后座以及车身后面月光下光秃秃的车道。