Chapter 22 Chapter 21 Kidnapping

one Although he had never been to Ludlow, he knew what to do and how to do it. Stark often comes here in his dreams. He drove off the boulevard in a battered stolen Honda and stopped a mile and a half from the Beaumont home.Ted went to school, which was fine.Sometimes he couldn't figure out what Tad was doing or thinking, although he could always know Tad's emotional state if he tried. If he found it hard to get in touch with Ted, he played with a Belore pencil he'd bought at the Houston Street stationer. This is very useful. It's easy today, and that's because no matter what Tad says to the police, he's going to college for only one reason: because he's past his deadline, and he trusts Stark to get in touch with him.Stark did want to connect with him, really wanted to.

It's just that he wasn't going to do what Ted expected. Certainly not from where Ted expected to contact him. It's almost noon.There were picnickers where he had parked, but they were either clustered around tables in the grass or gathered around stone barbecues by the river.No one looked at Stark as he got out of the car and walked away.That's fine, because if they see him, they're bound to remember him. Yes, remember him. But can't describe him. As he steps across the tarmac, and then walks north toward the Beaumont house, Stark resembles HG Wells' invisible man.A wide bandage covers his forehead and another bandage covers the lower half of his face. He wears a baseball cap on his head, a pair of sunglasses, a waistcoat, and black gloves on his hands. .

A yellow, pus-like liquid flowed out like resin, soaking the cotton yarn and staining the bandages.More yellow fluid dripped from behind dark glasses, and he wiped it from his cheeks now and then with his thin pair of suede gloves.As the fluid dries, the palm and fingers of the glove become sticky.A lot of skin under the bandages had fallen off, and what was left didn't look like human muscle, but a black, sea-like thing that was constantly oozing liquid. This liquid looked like pus and was black. It smells bad - like a mixture of espresso and ink. He walked with his head slightly forward.Passengers in several oncoming vehicles saw only a man wearing a baseball cap, head bowed from the harsh sun, hands in pockets, shadow under the visor almost obscuring everything. If you look closely, you can only see bandages.Passengers in cars driving north from behind him could of course only see his back.

The closer you get to the sister cities of Bangor and Bloor, the harder it is to get around.The closer to the city the faster the housing development.Ludlow, where the Beaumonts lived, was still in what might be called an outlying community on the outskirts of the suburbs—but it wasn't a remote area, and it certainly wasn't a city.Each house occupies a large area, and they are not separated from each other by hedgerows, but by narrow strips of woods and stone walls.Satellite dishes loomed on the horizon, looking like the vanguard of an invading alien. Stark walked along the curb to Clark's house.Ted's is next door.He cut across the corner of Clark's front yard, which had more hay than grass.He glanced at the house, the shades drawn to block the sun, the garage door shut, and the Clarks' house feeling lonely, as if it hadn't been lived in for a long time.While there was a stack of newspapers inside the screen door to prove it, Stark believed the Clarks were away on vacation, which was fine.

He walked into the woods that separated the two houses, stepped over a collapsed stone wall, and dropped to one knee.For the first time in his life, he sees his stubborn twin brother's house with his own eyes.A police patrol car was parked in the driveway, and two policemen were standing in the shade of a nearby tree, smoking and chatting.very good. He's got what he needs, the rest is easy.However, he stayed for a while longer.He didn't consider himself an imaginative person—except in the few novels he wrote primarily—nor an emotional one, so when he found himself burning with anger and hatred, it was a little Surprised.

What right did that bastard have to refuse him?What the fuck right?Because he became a real person first?Because Stark didn't know how, why or when he himself became a real person?That's bullshit.George Stark felt that age did not matter.He wasn't obliged to die without saying a word, and Ted seemed to think he should.He has a responsibility to himself—that is, to survive.Not only that. He also has his loyal admirers in mind, doesn't he? Look at that house, look at it.A spacious colonial house that could be called large except for one wing.A large lawn with rotating sprinklers spraying water constantly to keep it green.A wooden fence ran along the dark and bright side of the drive, and Stark thought it was a pretty thing.There is a covered porch between the house and the garage - omg a covered porch!The interior is very elegantly decorated to harmonize with the exterior.There was a long oak dining table in the dining room, and in the upstairs room there were tall and handsome wardrobes, and elegant and pleasant chairs, not very expensive, which you could admire but dare to sit on.There is no wallpaper on the walls, but after they are painted, patterns and patterns are printed on them.Stark had seen them all, seen them in his dreams.When Beaumont wrote as George Stark, he didn't even know Stark was having those dreams.

Suddenly he wanted to burn the charming white house to the ground.Striking a match and setting it on fire—or simply lighting it up with the propane torch he carried in his vest pocket—burned it to the ground.But not until he's in, after he's smashed all the furniture, after he's pissed and pissed on the living room rug and smeared the shit on the patterned walls, after he's hacked those precious cabinets into firewood with an axe. What right did Beaumont have to have children?Have a beautiful wife?What right on earth does Ted have to live in the sun and live a happy life while his brother who made poverty out of poverty, rich and famous, his brother in the dark is dying in the dark like a sick mongrel in an alley ?

Of course he didn't, had no such right at all.It's just that Ted believed he had those rights, and continued to believe them anyway, but that belief was unfounded, and George Stark was real. "I'm going to teach you a lesson, old man!" Stark whispered in the woods, feeling for the clips on the forehead bandages, taking them off and putting them in his pocket for later use.Then he started undoing the bandage in circles, getting wetter the closer he got to his weird muscle. "That's a lesson you'll never forget, I fucking promise you." two It was just a copy of the trick he used to trick the NYPD with his white cane, but Stark thought it was brilliant.He was a firm believer in this: If you succeed with one trick, keep using it until it doesn't work.Unless he's careless, it's not a problem to lie to these cops.They had been on duty for more than a week, and they were more and more convinced that the madman was telling the truth when he said he was going home and not killing people anymore.The only problem was Liz—if she happened to be looking out the window when he took out the cops, things would get complicated.But it was a few minutes before noon, and she and the twins were probably taking a nap or getting ready for one.Whatever happened, he believed it would work.

In fact, he was sure of it. There must be a road before the car reaches the mountain. three Chatterton raised his boot and snuffed out the cigarette end on the sole of it—he was going to put it in the ashtray in the patrol car as soon as it was extinguished, and the Maine State Police didn't want to litter taxpayer driveways.When he looked up, there was the peeling man, waddling up the driveway, one hand waving slowly at him and Jack Eddings for help, the other dangling behind him, like is broken. Chatterton nearly had a heart attack. "Jack!" he yelled, and Edins turned his head, his mouth open.

"Help me—" cried the flaky man hoarsely, and Chatterton and Edins ran to him. Had they lived, they would have told their colleagues that they thought the person had been in a car accident, or had been burned by gasoline or diesel, or had fallen face-down into a farm machine that routinely slices and slashes its users . They may tell their colleagues these things, but in that moment, they don't actually think about anything, their minds go blank with terror.The left side of the man's face appeared to be boiling, as if someone had poured a strong carbolic acid solution over the flesh after the skin had been removed.The viscous, unimaginable fluid flowed from the raised flesh, rolled through the black fissures, and sometimes came out in floods.

They don't think anything, they just react. This is the beauty of the white cane trick. "help me--" Stark tripped on purpose and fell forward.Chatterton shouted something indiscriminately to his companion, and went to catch the wounded man before he fell.Stark put his right arm around the policeman's neck, and his left hand stretched out from behind.In his hand was a startling object, a folded razor with a pearl-studded handle, the blade gleaming in the moist air.Stark poked it forward, and Chatterton's right eyeball popped out, and Chatterton cried out, putting a hand over his face.Stark grabbed Chatterton by the throat and stabbed from ear to ear, blood gushing from his strong neck.All this happened in four seconds. "What's the matter?" Eddins whispered in an oddly inquiring tone, standing unsuspecting about two feet behind Chatterton and Stark. "What's the matter?" He had one hand on the butt of his pistol, but Stark glanced at him and was sure the guy had no idea his gun was there.His eyes popped out, and he didn't know what he was looking at, or who was bleeding. "No, that's not it," thought Stark, "he thinks I'm bleeding, he's standing there watching me cut his companion's throat, but he thinks I'm bleeding because half of my face is gone, that's not Not really the reason - I was bleeding, it had to be me because he and his mates were cops and they were the stars of this movie." "Hey," he said, "hold me up, will you?" He pushed Chatterton's dying body toward his companion. Eddings screamed and tried to dodge to the side, but it was too late, Tom Chatterton's two-hundred-pound body slammed him into the police car, and hot blood poured on his upturned face. Like water spraying from a smashed shower head.He screamed and pushed Chatterton's body away. Chatterton turned away slowly, and with the last effort, he grabbed the police car aimlessly. His left hand hit the hood, leaving a bloody handprint. Grabbed feebly the radio antenna and snapped it off.He collapsed in the driveway, in front of his remaining eye, clutching the antenna like a scientist who has found a rare specimen and would not let it go. Eddings vaguely saw the faceless man swooping towards him, and tried to back away, but crashed into the police car. Stark swiped upwards, cutting the crotch of Edins' trousers, slit his scrotum, and then flicked the razor upwards and outwards, and his two testicles suddenly separated and hung on his inner thigh. , like the knot at the end of a curtain cord.Blood stained the pants around Zipper, and for a moment Eddins felt as if someone had shoved a handful of ice cream into the bottom of his thigh...and then he screamed in excruciating pain. Stark slashed the razor down Edins throat very quickly, but Edins managed to raise a hand, and the blow only split his palm in half.Eddings tried to roll to the left, just exposing the right side of his neck. The bare blade gleamed silver in the foggy daylight, and he slashed down again, this time hitting.Eddings fell to his knees with his hands between his legs, blood almost staining half of his pants.His head hung low, looking like a pagan sacrifice. Four He opened the back door of the patrol car, grabbed Edins' uniform shirt collar with one hand and the hip of his bloody trousers with the other, lifted him up, and threw him in like a sack of grain. .Then throw Chatterton in likewise, who must have weighed nearly two hundred and thirty pounds with the arm belt and the . like.He slammed the door shut and cast a curious glance at the house. It was quiet, the only sounds being the crickets in the grass at the edge of the drive and the hiss of the lawn sprinkler.Beyond that, there was the sound of an approaching car—a tanker truck.It roared north, and Stark ducked a little warily behind the patrol car when he saw the truck's brake lights flash.Then the lights went out again, and the tanker picked up speed after disappearing down the next hill.Stark laughed. The tanker driver saw the patrol car parked in the Beaumont driveway and slowed down, thinking it was a speed check car.This is the most natural thing in the world.He needn't have worried, the speedometer car was off forever. There's a lot of blood in the driveway, but clinging to the black and shiny asphalt, it looks like water...unless you look closely, so it's ok.Even if it doesn't work, that's the only way to go. Stark folded the razor, held it in sticky hands, and walked to the door.He saw neither the little pile of dead sparrows by the edge of the porch nor the live sparrows that stood silently watching him from the roofs and apple trees. A minute or two later, Liz Beaumont came downstairs dimly and answered the door. Fives She didn't scream, although she wanted to, but the flayed face she saw as soon as she opened the door made her cry trapped inside, frozen, suppressed, suppressed , was buried alive.She didn't dream of George Stark like Tad did, but in the back of her unconscious mind the dreams were there, because the grinning face seemed to be exactly what she'd expected. "Hey ma'am, want to buy a duck?" Stark asked through the screen door, grinning and showing a lot of teeth, most of them dead.The dark glasses turned his eyes into two black holes, and the sticky liquid dripped from his cheeks and chin and splashed on the waistcoat he was wearing. She wanted to close the door, but it was too late.Stark's gloved fist pierced the screen door and opened it again.Liz staggered back, trying to scream, but couldn't, her throat still locked. Stark walked in and closed the door. Liz watched him walk slowly towards her.He looked like a rotting scarecrow that had somehow come back to life.His grin was the scariest, because the left half of his upper lip seemed not only rotten or decaying, but chewed off, and she could see gray-black teeth and gums that had teeth not so long ago. He held out his gloved hand to her. "Hello, Beth," he said with a frightening grin. "Excuse me for intruding, but I happen to be nearby, so stop by and have a look. I'm George Stark, and it's a pleasure to meet you, more than you can imagine." One of his fingers touched her chin... stroking it.The flesh under the black leather was limp.In that moment, thinking of her twins sleeping upstairs, her paralysis broke, she turned and ran toward the kitchen.In the utter confusion she seemed to see herself grabbing a knife and slashing into that disgusting face. She heard him chasing her, swift as the wind. His hand brushed the back of her blouse, trying to grab her, but missed. The kitchen door was one of those swinging back and forth, held open by a wooden wedge.She kicked the wedge as she ran, knowing that if she missed it or just knocked it sideways, there would be no second chance, but her slippered foot was so good that her Pain in toes.The wedge flew across the kitchen floor, which was so shinyly waxed that she could see the reflection of the whole room.She felt Stark reach out to grab her again, and she reached out behind her, and slammed the door back, only to hear it hit him with a thud.He yelled, angry and surprised, but unhurt.She fumbled for the knife— — Stark grabbed her hair and the back of her blouse and gave her a jerk, pulling her around.She heard the sound of clothes ripping and thought confusedly, "If he rapes me, oh my god, if he rapes me, I'm going to go crazy—" She punched his ugly face with two fists, knocking the sunglasses crooked and falling off.The muscles under his left eye drooped like a dead man's mouth, revealing the bulging, bloodshot eyeball. He is laughing. He grabbed her hand and pressed down.He freed one hand and raised it to grab his face, leaving deep grooves in his fingers, from which blood and pus began to slowly ooze.The place would break if scratched, and she might be able to tear off a piece of flesh covered with fly eggs.Now she can make a sound - she wants to scream, wants to cry out before she chokes with fear, but the most she can do is a series of hoarse coughs. He grabbed her free hand, twisted both hands behind her back, and grabbed her wrist with his.His hands were limp, but strong as handcuffs.He raised his other hand to her chest and took hold of one of her breasts, and her muscles tensed as soon as he touched her.She closed her eyes, trying to break free. "Oh, come on," he said.He didn't mean to smile at this time, but the left half of his mouth was still grinning, and the smile froze on the open mouth. "Come on, Beth. Do yourself a favor. I'll get an erection when you're struggling. I'm sure you don't want me to. I think we should be a platonic relationship, you and me, at least for now. " He squeezed her tits harder, and she felt the relentless force beneath the rotting flesh, like steel bars embedded in soft plastic. "How can he be so strong? He looks like he's dying, how can he be so strong?" But the answer is obvious, he is not a human being, and she does not think he is a real living person. "Maybe you really want it?" he asked. "Right? Do you want it? You want it now?" His tongue, black and red and yellow, protruded from his grinning mouth and wriggled at her.The surface of the tongue is one of those strange fissures, like a plain drying up after a flood. She stopped struggling immediately. "That's good," Stark said. "Now—I'm going to let you go, my dear Beth, my darling. It's only natural that you'd want to run away as fast as I let you go. There's almost nothing between us. Don't know, and I don't look too good. But before you do anything stupid, I want you to remember the two cops outside the door - they're dead. I want you to think about the kid sleeping peacefully upstairs, Children need rest, right? Especially very young children, defenseless children, like your children. Do you understand? Do you know what I mean?" She nodded, speechless.She could smell him now, and it was a horrible, meaty smell.He's rotting, she thought, rotting right in front of me. She understood now why he was so desperate for Tad to start writing again. "You're a vampire," she said hoarsely. "A bloody vampire. He put you on a diet, so you barge in here, you scare me, you threaten my kids, you're a fucking coward, George Stark." He let her go, and then straightened and tightened first the left glove and then the right glove, in a strange and sinister gesture. "I don't think it's fair, Beth. What would you do if you were in my shoes? For example, what would you do if you were stranded on an island without food or drink? Would you Put on an air of tenderness and sigh gracefully? Are you still going to fight? Do you really blame me for trying to survive?" "Yes!" she exclaimed. "You talk too emotionally...but you'll change your mind. You see, being emotional is more costly than you think, Beth. When the opponent is cunning and dedicated, it's unimaginably costly. You You will find that your enthusiasm for our cooperation is higher than you think." "Dream, fuck you!" The corner of his mouth turned up on the right side, and even higher on the always smiling left side, and he grinned like a ghoul.She guessed he was smiling so to show that he was charming himself.His hand reached out to caress her arm, the hand under the thin glove was cold and disgusting.A finger pressed her palm suggestively before letting go. "It's not a dream, Beth—I promise you. Ted and I will be collaborating on a new Stark novel...temporarily. In other words, Ted is going to give me a push. You Look, I'm like a broken car, except instead of the engine dying, I'm stuck with my writing. That's all. I think that's the only problem. Once I get going, I'll put the speed in 2nd gear , put on the clutch, and drive away with a whimper!" "You're crazy," she said quietly. "Yes, but so did Tolstoy, and so did Richard Nixon, and they elected that slick bastard for president." Stark turned his head and looked out the window.Liz heard nothing, but suddenly he seemed to be listening intently, trying to catch some barely audible sound. "What are you doing—" she began to ask. "Shut up, baby," Stark told her. "Stuff your mouth with a sock." She vaguely heard the sound of a flock of birds spreading their wings and flying. This sound was extremely distant, extremely beautiful, and extremely free. She stood looking at him, her heart beating wildly, wondering if she could run away from him.He wasn't in a trance, but he was definitely distracted, and maybe she could get away, if she got a gun— His rotting hands grabbed her wrist again. "I can go inside your husband and look out, you know, I can feel his mind, I can't do that with you, but I can guess what you're thinking from your facial expression. Whatever you're thinking right now, Beth, you have to remember those policemen...and your children, it's good for you to do this." "Why do you keep calling me that?" "What? Call you Baisi?" He laughed, and the sound was very ugly, as if there was sand in his throat. "If he's smart, he'll call you that, you know." "You're crazy—" "Crazy, I know. That's fascinating, baby, but let's talk about my normal or not later, there's too much going on right now. Listen: I have to call Ted, but not him Office, where the phone might have been tapped. He doesn't think so, but maybe the police did it without telling him, your husband is one of those credulous people, I'm not." "How can you--" Stark leaned over her and spoke to her slowly and carefully, like a teacher teaching a dumb first grader. "I want you to stop arguing with me, Beth, and answer my questions. Because if I don't get what I need from you, maybe I can get it from your twins. I know they can't talk yet, but maybe I can teach them that a little stimulation can do wonders." Even though it was hot, he wore a pony jacket over his shirt, with its many zipped pockets, a favorite of hunters and hikers.He unzipped one of the side zippers, revealing a cylindrical object in the bulging pocket.He pulled out a small propane blowtorch. "Even if I can't teach them to talk, I'm sure I can teach them to sing. I'm sure I can make them sing like a pair of larks. You probably don't want that kind of music, Beth." She tried to take her eyes off the propane blowtorch, but couldn't.He shifted it from one gloved hand to the other, and her eyes followed it involuntarily, seeming to be pinned to the nozzle. "I'll tell you anything you want to know," she said, thinking, "Just now." "That's very kind of you," he said, stuffing the propane blowtorch into his pocket.As he did so, the vest pulled a little sideways, and she saw the butt of an oversized pistol. "Very sensible, too, Beth. Now listen, there's someone else in the English department today, and I can see him as clearly as I can see you. A short, white-haired guy with a stick in his mouth Big pipe. What's his name?" "Sounds a lot like Raleigh Dresses," she said worriedly.She wondered how he would know where Luo Li was today...but she didn't really want to know the answer. "Could it be someone else?" Liz thought for a while, then shook her head: "It must be Luo Li." "Do you have a telephone directory for the school faculty?" "There's a copy in the drawer of the telephone table in the living room." "Fine." Before she knew he was moving, he had slipped past her, and she felt a little sick at the flexibility of this rotting mass.He pulled out a long knife from the magnetization slot, Liz was taken aback, Stark glanced at her, and said hoarsely: "Don't be afraid, I won't cut you, you are my good helper , eh? Come on." His strong yet limp hands grabbed her wrist again.When she tried to pull away, he did get a tighter grip, so he stopped struggling immediately and let him pull her. "Very good," he said. He led her into the living room, and she sat down on the sofa with her arms around her knees.Stark glanced at her, nodded in satisfaction, and turned his attention to the phone.But when he was sure there were no alarm wires, he cut two wires installed by the state troopers: one to a tracking device and one to a voice recorder in the basement. "It's good that you know what to do," Stark said to Liz, bowing his head. "Listen now, I'm going to find this Rory Dresses number and have a quick chat with Ted. While this is going on, you go upstairs and pack everything your children need for their summer cottage. When you've done that, wake them up and carry them here." "How do you know they—" He smiled at her surprised expression. "Oh, I know your schedule," he said, "perhaps better than you. You wake them up, Beth, pack them up, and bring them here. I know the layout of the house very well, like I know your schedule as well, and if you want to run away, baby, I'll know. No need to dress them, just pack what they need, wrap them in diapers and bring them down. After we're happily on the road, You can dress them again." "Castle Rock? Are you going to Castle Rock?" "Yeah. But you don't have to think about that right now, what you need to think about now is: If you stay longer than ten minutes, I'll go upstairs and see what you're up to." He stared at her, under his flaking, pus-soothing eyebrows. , The dark sunglasses look like the eye sockets of a skeleton. "And I'll come up with a little blowtorch, ready for action. Do you understand?" "I see." "Bei Si, you have to remember one thing, if you cooperate with me, you will be fine, and your children will be fine." He smiled again. "I think the main thing is to be a good mother. I just want you to know, don't play tricks on me. Those two cops outside are laying in the back seat of the car to catch flies, because they have bad luck, and my fast car is coming. They happened to be on the track when they were on track. A lot of cops died in New York City too, and they were just as unlucky...you already know that. Save yourself and your kids—and Ted, because if he listens to me , and it'll be all right—the way to do it is to stay silent and do things for me. Do you understand?" "Understood." She said hoarsely. "You may have a thought. I know a man has a thought when he feels he's cornered. But if you do have a thought, you should get rid of it right away. You have to remember that although I don't look very nice, But my ears are very sensitive. If you try to open a window, I will hear it, and if you try to open a screen door, I will hear it too. Beth, I am one who can hear angels singing in heaven , the devil screaming in the abyss of hell. You have to ask yourself if you dare to take this risk. You are a smart woman, I think you will make the right choice. Go, baby. Get started." He was looking at his watch, actually telling her the time.Liz ran for the stairs, her legs feeling terribly numb. six He heard him speak quickly into the phone downstairs, followed by a long silence, and then he started talking again, his voice changing.She didn't know who he was talking to before the silence—Rory Dresses, perhaps—but when he started talking again, she was almost sure it was Ted on the other end of the line.She couldn't hear what was being said, and she didn't dare to eavesdrop on the extension, but she was still sure it was Ted.Anyway, no time for eavesdropping.He had asked her to ask her if she dared to deceive him.She dare not. She puts diapers in a diaper bag, clothes in a small suitcase, and throws body wash, baby powder, handkerchiefs, diaper pins, and other odds and ends into a backpack. The conversation downstairs is over.She was walking towards the twins, about to wake them up, when he yelled upstairs. "Baisi! It's time!" "I'll come!" She hugged Wendy, and Wendy started to cry sleepily. "I want you down - I'm waiting for a call and your voice will do the trick." But she barely heard the last sentence.Her eyes were fixed on the plastic box of diaper pins that sat on top of the twins' cabinet. Next to the box is a pair of shiny tailor's scissors. She put Wendy back in her crib, glanced at the door, then hurried to the cabinet, picked up the scissors and two pins.She put the pin in her mouth, and like a dressmaker, unzipped her skirt, pinned the scissors inside her panties, and zipped the skirt up again.The handles of the scissors and the tips of the pins were a little bulging, which she didn't think the average person would notice, but George Stark was no ordinary person, so she put the coat outside, which was better. "Beth!" The voice was on fire, and what was worse, it came from the middle of the stairs, and she didn't hear him go up at all, although she thought that using the main stairs of this old house would not make all kinds of noises. is impossible. Then the phone rang. "You take them down immediately!" he screamed at her upstairs, and she hurried to wake William up.She had no time for tenderness, and ended up with two children crying loudly in her hands when she came downstairs.Stark was on the phone, and she expected him to be even angrier at the noise.Instead, he looked very happy... and that's when she realized that if he was talking to Ted, he should be happy, and that worked out great. "The best persuader," she thought, feeling a surge of hatred for this rotten thing that had no reason to exist and certainly did not want to perish. Stark held a pencil in his hand, and as he tapped the eraser end on the edge of the telephone table, she realized with some surprise that it was a Belore Black Beauty pencil.One of Ted's pencils, she thought. Has he been to the study? No—of course he hadn't been in the study, and it wasn't Tad's pencil.They were never Ted's pencils—he just bought them sometimes.Black Beauty pencils belong to Starkey.He used it to write something in capital letters on the back of the faculty phone book.When she approached him, she had seen two sentences clearly.Guess where I'm calling, Ted?The first sentence reads like this.The second sentence is brutally terse: Tell anyone and they're dead. As if to confirm the point, Stark said: "Nothing, you can hear it yourself. I haven't touched a hair on their precious little heads." He turned to Liz and winked at her, the most sinister thing ever - as if the two of them were complicit.Stark twirled the sunglasses between his left thumb and forefinger, and the eyeballs protruded from his face like stone eyes on the face of a melting wax figure. "Not yet," he added. He listened, and then grinned, a grin she would have found repulsive and evil even if his face hadn't been rotting away before her eyes. "What happened to her?" Stark asked almost happily.Just then, her anger overtook her fear, and she thought for the first time of Aunt Martha and the mice.She wished Aunt Martha was here, to take care of this particular mouse, and she had a pair of scissors, but that didn't mean he'd give her a chance to use them.But Ted... Ted knew about Aunt Martha, and that thought jumped into her head. seven The conversation was over, and Stark hung up the phone.She asked him what he was doing now. "Act quickly," he said. "That's my specialty." He held out his arms. "Give me a child, any one." She dodged back and reflexively hugged the two children to her chest.They had quieted down, but when she hugged her so hard, they began to cry and writhe again. Stark watched her patiently. “我没时间和你争论，白丝。别让我用这个说服你。”他拍拍马夹口袋里的圆筒形东西。 “我不会伤害你的孩子，你知道，可笑的是，我也是他们的爸爸。” “不许你这么说！”她冲他尖叫道，又向后退了几步。她颤抖着，像要准备逃走。 “冷静，太太。” 这话很平淡、冷漠，她觉得好像自己被迎面泼了一盆冷水。 “冷静，宝贝。我必须去外面把车开到你们的车库中。我不想在这么干的时候让你跑掉。如果我扣着你的一个孩子——作为抵押品——我就不必担心了。我说话算话，对你和他们并无恶意……即使我有恶意，伤害你们的一个孩子，对我又有什么好处呢？我需要你的合作，而那并不是得到它的方法。现在马上给我一个孩子，否则我要伤害他们两个——不是杀死他们，而是伤害他们，严重地伤害他们——那就要怪你自己了。” 他伸出双手，残破的面孔严厉刻板。望着那张脸，她明白无论是说理还是乞求都无法打动他，他听都不会听，他会真的照他威胁的那样做的。 她走近他，当他试图抱走温蒂时，她的手臂又抱紧了，挡了他一下，温蒂开始使劲哭起来。丽兹松手了，让他把姑娘抱走了，她自己却开始哭起来。她直盯着他的眼睛：“如果你伤害了她，我会杀了你。” “我知道你会的。”斯达克严肃地说，“我非常尊重母亲，白丝。你认为我是个魔鬼，也许你是对的，但真正的魔鬼从来不是没有感情的。我认为，说到底正是这种感情使他们如此可怕，而不是他们的外表。我不会伤害这个小东西的，白丝，她跟我一起很安全……只要你合作。” 丽兹现在双手抱着威廉……她从没感到怀中如此空荡。在她一生中，她从没如此确信自己犯了个错误，但是除此之外，还有什么别的选择呢？ “而且，瞧！”斯达克喊到，他声音中有某种她不能也不原相信的东西。她所听到的那种温柔一定是伪造的，只是一种可恶的嘲弄罢了。但他低头看着温蒂，专注得让人不安……温蒂也全神贯注的仰视着他，不再哭闹了。“小东西不知道我的样子可怕，她一点儿也不害怕我，白丝，一点儿也不。” 她惊恐无言地看着他举起右手。他已经脱了手套，她能看到一条厚厚的纱布绷带缠在手上，正是泰德左手缠绷带的地方。斯达克松开拳头，又握起，又松开，从他下巴的紧缩可以看出，手的弯曲给他带来痛楚，但他还是照做不误。 “泰德也那么做，他做的方式完全一样，噢，天哪，他做的方式完全一样——” 温蒂现在似乎完全平静了，她仰视着斯达克的脸，仔细大量着他，冷灰色的眼睛盯着斯达克浑浊的蓝眼睛。他眼睛下面的皮肤都已脱落，他的眼珠看上去好像随时都可能滚落出来，悬挂到面颊上。 温蒂做出了反应。 手开，手合，手开。 A Wendy wave. 丽兹感到怀里动了一下，低头一看，威廉正看着斯达克，蓝灰色的眼睛，同样全神贯注。他正微笑着。 威廉的手张开，合拢，张开。 A William wave. “不。”她呻吟道，声音低的几乎听不到，“啊，天哪，不，请别让这种事发生。” “你看到了？”斯达克抬头对她说，咧嘴一笑，笑得僵硬讽刺，最可怕的是她明白他力图温柔点儿……但做不到。“你看到了？他们喜欢我，白丝，他们喜欢我。 ” Eight 斯达克戴上墨镜，抱着温蒂走到外面车道。丽兹跑到窗户边，焦急地看着他们，她有点儿相信他会跳进巡逻车，把她的孩子放在他旁边的座位上，连同后坐的两个死警察一起开走。 但是有那么一会儿，他什么也没做——只是站在靠近驾驶座一侧的车门边，沐浴在昏黄的阳光下，低着头，怀里抱着那个婴儿，就那么一动不动地站了一会儿，好像在严肃地对温蒂说话，或在祈祷，后来，她掌握的信息多了，她断定他是在试图再次与泰德联系，或了解他的思想，推测他是否打算去干斯达克要他干的事，还是他自己另有企图。 大约三十秒钟后，斯达克抬起头，使劲摇了摇，好像要使它清醒一下，然后钻进巡逻车，把车启动起来。“钥匙就在点活装置上，”她想，“他连通电预热都不用，这家伙运气好得出奇。” 斯达克把巡逻车开进车库，关掉了发动机。接着她听到车门砰地关上，他走出来，停在门口，手按着电动门的按钮，一直到车库门隆隆地沿着轨道落下。 片刻后他又回到屋里，把温蒂交还给她。 “你看到了？”他问，“她完好无损。现在告诉我隔壁克拉克家的情况。” “克拉克家？”她问，觉得自己非常愚蠢，“为什么你要了解他们？今年夏天他们在欧洲。” 他微笑了，这微笑仍是一种最邪恶的事，她怀疑，在更正常的情况下，这是一个快乐的微笑……很吸引人。有那么一瞬，她不是感到一种吸引力吗？不是心旌摇荡了一下吗？当然，这是不可思议的，但这并不意味着她能否认这一事实，丽兹不这么想，她甚至能理解为什么会这样。她毕竟和这个人最亲近的亲人结了婚。 “太棒了！”他说，“好得不能再好了！他们有辆车吗？” 温蒂开始哭起来。丽兹低下头，看到她女儿正看着那个面孔腐烂、眼睛突出的男人，伸出她小小的、可爱的胖手，她不是因为害怕他才哭，而是因为要回到他身边才哭。 “多么可爱啊！”斯达克说，“她要回到爸爸身边。” “住嘴，你这魔鬼！”她怒斥道。 狡猾的乔治·斯达克仰面大笑起来。 Nine 他给她五分钟，让她为她自己和双胞胎再收拾一点东西。她告诉他在这么短的时间内连收拾一半的东西都不可能，他叫她尽力而为。 “你很幸运，白丝，在这种情况下，我又给了你一些时间。现在的情况是：两个死去的警察在你的车库里，你丈夫知道发生了什么事。如果你想把五分钟都花在和我争论上，随你的便。你还剩下……”他扫了一眼他的手表，冲她微微一笑，“四分半钟。”于是她尽力而为，当她把几罐婴儿食品仍进一只购物袋时，停下来看看她的孩子们。他们并排坐在地板上，一边漫不经心地玩着一种拍手游戏，一边看着斯达克。她非常害怕，因为她知道他们在想什么。 “他多么可爱啊。” 不，她不原想那件事，但却不由自主地想起它：温蒂哭喊着伸出她胖胖的小手，伸向那个残忍的陌生人。 “他们要回到爸爸身边。” 他正站在厨房门口，微笑着注视着她，她真想用那把剪刀，她一生中从来没有这么想要任何东西过。“你不能帮我一下吗？”她冲他生气地喊道，指指两只包和她刚灌满的冷却器。 “当然可以，白丝。”他说，他拎起一只包，他的另一只手——左手——空着。 ten 他们穿过侧院，走过两家之间的树林，然后穿过克拉克家的院子，来到他们家的车道上。斯达克一直催她快走，所以当他们在关着车库门前停下时，她气喘吁吁的。他曾提出帮她抱一个孩子，但她拒绝了。 他放下冷却器，从身后口袋里掏出他的皮夹，取出一根一头磨尖的金属片，把它插进车库门的锁中，先向右转，然后又向左扭，一边竖起一只耳朵倾听。咯嚓一声响，他微微一笑。 “很好，”他说，“连开米老鼠锁都很费劲，弹簧太大，拨开不容易，而这个锁像黎明时老妓女的奶头一样疲软，我们很幸运。”他转动把手，使劲一推，门沿着轨道隆隆地开上去了。 车库非常热，克拉克家沃而沃汽车里面更热。斯达克头低到仪表板下面，脖子的后面向她露了出来，因为她就坐在乘客座上。她的手指动了一下，只要一秒钟就能抽出剪刀，但那仍然太慢了。她已看到他对意外事件的反应有多么快，他的条件发射像一头野兽那么迅速，这并没让她吃惊，以为他就是一头野兽。 他从仪表板后面拉出一束线，然后从胸前口袋里掏出一把血迹斑斑的折叠式剃刀。她打了个冷战，不得不迅速咽下两次口水，才抑制住了自己，没有条件反射似地张开嘴巴。他打开剃刀，再次弯下腰，削掉两根线的绝缘包皮，把两根裸露的铜芯碰到一起。蓝光一闪，发动机开始转动了。片刻之后，汽车发动起来。 “啊，一切顺利！”乔治·斯达克得意地说，“我们走吧。你瞧怎么样？” 双胞胎咯咯笑起来，冲他挥手，斯达克高兴地也挥挥手。当他把车倒出车库时，丽兹悄悄地把手伸到坐在她腿上的温蒂的身后，摸摸剪刀的圆柄。现在不用，但很快就会用上的，她不想等泰德。她很不安，怕这个邪恶的家伙在这期间伤害双胞胎。 或伤害她。 只要他注意力分散到一定程度，她就要抽出剪刀，把它刺进他的喉咙。 第二部大结局 “诗人谈论爱情，”马辛说，在皮革上不紧不慢地磨着剃刀，那节奏像是在催眠。“那很好，存在着爱情。政治家谈论责任，那也很好，存在着责任。艾里克·豪弗谈论后现代主义，胡夫·黑夫纳谈论性，亨特·汤普森谈论毒品，吉米·斯瓦加特谈论全能的上帝，万物的创造者。那些东西都存在，而且很好。你明白我的意思吗，杰克？” “是，我想我明白。”杰克·兰格雷说，其实他一点儿也不明白，但当马辛心境不好时只有疯子才会跟他争论。 马辛把剃刀刀刃向下，猛地将皮革砍成两段，一长条皮革像割断的舌头一样落到赌场地板上。“但我谈论的是死亡，”他说，“因为说到底，死亡才是最重要的。” —— 乔治·斯达克：《驶往巴比伦》