Chapter 59 Chapter 58

Franny and Larry sat at Stu and Franny's place at the table, sipping coffee.Downstairs, Leo sprawled out next to his guitar that Larry had picked out for him at Oxley's, a nice $600 Gibson, hand-polished cherry of.On second thought, he got him a battery-operated phonograph and about a dozen records of modern folk and blues songs.Lucy was with him now, and a terrific imitation of Dave Van Ronk's "Return Blues" drifted slowly upstairs. "It has been rainy for 5 days The sky is dark as night... Tonight on the oxbow lake There will be trouble. " Through the living room archway, Franny and Larry could see Stu sitting in his favorite easy chair with Harold's ledger open on his lap.It's 9 o'clock in the evening, it's already dark, and he has been sitting like that since 4 o'clock in the afternoon, without eating dinner.As Franny looked at him, he turned another page in the ledger.

Downstairs, Leo had just finished playing "Returning Blues," and there was a moment of silence. "He plays really well, doesn't he?" said Franny. "Better than me, and I'll never play that well," said Larry, sipping his coffee. Suddenly a familiar cut sound came from downstairs, and a rapid rhythm flew out from the fret. It was not a very standard blues passage, and Larry put down his glass.Then Leo's voice flew out, a flattering low voice to a slow but powerful beat: "Hey baby, I'm here tonight I didn't come to make friends, don't make noise,

I just want you to say you can, You say it once and I'll understand, Baby, are you satisfied with your man? he is a man of integrity Baby, are you satisfied with your man? " Larry spilled his coffee. "Ouch," Franny cried, getting up to get a rag. "I'll do it," he said, "I'm just out of time, I think." "No, you sit down." She took a rag and quickly wiped off the coffee that had spilled on the table. "I remember that guy. He was pretty strong before that flu. He must have married some single girl in town." "I think so."

"What's that guy's name?" "I can't remember," Larry said. "Pop music goes out as fast as it goes." "Yeah, but it's really informal," she said, wringing out a rag from the sink. "It's funny how he could come up with something like that." "That's it," Larry said. Stu closed the ledger with a soft click, and to Larry's relief, Franny watched Stu enter the kitchen.Franny's eyes were first on the gun hanging from Stu's waist.He'd carried it with him since he became a public sheriff, and often used it as a joke, injuring himself awkwardly.Franny didn't find the jokes very funny at all.

"What's wrong?" Larry asked. Stu's complexion was very bad.He put the ledger on the table and sat down.Franny got up to get him coffee, and he grabbed her forearm and shook his head. "No, honey, thanks." He looked at Larry blankly. "I finished reading it all, and now I have a terrible headache. I'm not used to reading so many books. The last book I read was "The Boat Sinks", which describes the story of the rabbit. I bought it for one of my nephews." he thought.The sound gradually faded away. "I read that book, it's a great book," Larry said.

"There's a litter of rabbits," said Stu, "the stupidest, most cowardly animals in the world. They eat well, grow big, and stay in one place. Something's wrong there, but none of them The rabbits know what's wrong, and they don't look like they want to know. It's just...just, yes, the farmer..." Larry said, "He left that warren alone, so that he could catch one whenever he wanted to, cook it in a pot, or sell it. Anyway, he had A small rabbit farm of its own. "Yes. There's a rabbit, 'Silver Grass,' and he made some poems about the shiny wire--I guess the trap the farmer used to catch the rabbit, the trap that the farmer used to catch and hang the rabbit Silvergrass wrote some poems about it." He shook his head slowly, a little tired, and said suspiciously: "This is what Harold reminded me of. The rabbit named Silvergrass."

"Harold's a badass," said Franny. "Yes." Stu lit a cigarette, "and he's a dangerous guy." "What should we do? Capture him?" Stu tapped the ledger. "He and the half-breed woman are planning something to make them popular when they go west. But the book doesn't say what they're going to do." "It talks about a lot of people he doesn't really like," Larry said. "Are we going to get him?" Franny asked again. "I don't know either. I want to check with the rest of the committee first. What's up tomorrow night, Larry?"

"The meeting will be in two parts, public and private. Brad wants to talk about his 'switch off group'. Al Bundle wants the legal committee to prepare an initial debrief. Let's see...  During clinic hours, George Richardson will arrive after Rich and Chad Norris. Then they will leave and it will be just us.” "If we let Al Bundle stay after the meeting and give him an update on Harold, can we make sure he keeps his mouth shut?" "I'm sure we can keep him tight-lipped," Franny said. Stu said irritably, "If only the judge were here, I like that man."

Everyone was silent for a while, wondering where the judge will be tonight?Downstairs came Leo imitating Tom Rush's "Sister Kate." "But if it's Al, then he. I think there are only two options. Damn, we have to immobilize both of them. But I don't want to put them in jail." "So what else can we do?" Larry asked. Franny replied, "Exile them." Larry turned to look at her.Stu kept his eyes on his cigarette and nodded slowly. "Just to drive him away?" Larry asked. "Both of them go," Stu replied. "But would Flagg treat them like that?" Frannie asked again.

Stu looked up at her, "Honey, that's not our problem." She nodded, thinking: Oh, Harold, I really don't want it to be like this, never, ever want it to be like this. "What do you think they're going to do?" Stu asked. Larry shrugged. "You'll have to ask the committee, Stu. But I can imagine what they'd do." "What's up?" "Sabotage the power plant. Find a way to assassinate you and Franny. I think they'll do those two things first." Franny's face was pale and she looked shocked. Larry went on, "Although he couldn't possibly come here and tell us, I think he'd been looking around for Mama Abagil with you and Ralph just to kill you when you were alone."

Stu said, "He had that opportunity." "Perhaps he was timid." "Please don't talk about it, okay?" Frannie was very frustrated. Stu got up and went back into the living room.There's a walkie-talkie, hooked up to a powerful battery.It took him a while to find Brad Kitchener. "Brad, you bastard! Listen, Stu Redman, I think you're going to get some people to keep an eye on that power plant tonight?" "Of course," it was Brad's voice, "but why exactly?" "It's a delicate matter, Brad. I've heard from various sources that someone might be in there." Brad's answer was irreverent and profane. Stu nodded into the microphone and smiled a little. "I know how you feel. As far as I know, it's either today or tomorrow night. Then it'll go away." Brad told him he'd have no trouble getting a dozen guys from the Power Plant Commission, and each of them would gladly eunuch whoever tried to mess it up. "Is Rich Moffat responsible for this?" "No, don't leave him in charge. Listen, I'll tell you, okay?" "Okay, Stu, I'll let them watch." Stu turned off the intercom and went back into the kitchen. "You can be as stealthy as you want. You know, it's scary? The bald old sociologist was right. We can promote ourselves like kings here if we want." Franny took his hand. "I want you to promise me one thing. You two. Promise me to get this over with when we meet tomorrow night. I want it to end sooner." Larry nodded. "Exile, yes, I never thought of that idea, but it might be the best way. Well, I'll take Lucy and Leo home." "I'll see you tomorrow," Stu said. "See you tomorrow." Larry walked out too. At dawn on September 2, Harold stood on the edge of the Sunrise Theater and looked up into the distance.The whole city was pitch black. Behind him in the small two-person tent, Nadina was still sound asleep.The tent had come with some other camping supplies when they sneaked out of town. We'll be back, and back with the carriage. But deep down in his heart, Harold had some doubts about it.Darkness was more than darkness to him.That shameless bastard has stolen everything from him - Franny, his pride, his ledger, and now his hope.He felt himself sinking. The wind was blowing hard, ruffling his hair, and the hooks on the straps that held the tent taut were flapping back and forth in the wind, rattling like machine-gun fire.Behind her, Nadina moaned in her sleep.It was a frightening sound.She must be like him, Harold thought, perhaps even more disappointed than he was.The sound she made was not the sound one would make in a sweet dream. But I can stay awake, I can.If I can stay sane no matter what the situation is, then it will work, it will work. He wondered if they were already there, Stu and his friends, surrounding his cabin, waiting for him to come home so they could catch him and send him to jail.He will go down in the history books--if the clumsy ones are allowed to write them--like the first prisoner of the Free State.Facing the hard times, the imprisoned eagle, the eagle, did not flinch.They will wait a long time.He was about to start his own adventure, and he remembered very well that Nadina put his hand on her gray hair and said, It's too late, Harold, her eyes really are like the eyes of a dead body. "It's all right," Harold whispered, "we'll make it." In the darkness all around him, the September winds whistled the woods. Some 14 hours later, in the living room of the residence of Ralph Brentner and Nick Andros, the meeting of the Free State Council was announced with a clatter of taps.Sitting in the easy chair, Stu tapped the rim of his beer glass on the end of the table and said, "Okay, guys, we better start the meeting now." Gran and Larry sat on one side of the arc of the free-standing fireplace, with their backs to it.Ralph had turned the fire to the right level.Nick, Susan and Ralph sat on the couch.Nick had the indispensable pen and pad in hand.Brad was standing in the aisle with a can of beer in his hand, chatting with Al who was preparing Scotch whiskey.George Richardson and Chad Norris sat by the windowed wall watching the sunset over the Flatirons. Franny sat with her legs crossed, her back comfortably against the toilet door, the leather bag containing Harold's ledger between her legs.That toilet is where Nadina once planted the bomb. "Be quiet, I say, be quiet!" Stu yelled, banging on the table vigorously. "Does that tape recorder work, Baldy?" "Very well," said Gran, "I see you have a nice mouth too, East Texan." "I just oiled it a little and it worked fine," Stu said with a laugh.He glanced at the 11 people sitting loosely in the large room that joined the living room and dining room. "I said... we got a pretty good deal, but first I'd like to thank Ralph for giving us this house over our heads, and wine and refreshments..." He's really good at it now, Frannie thought.She tried to gauge how much Stu had changed since the day she and Harold met him, but couldn't.She felt that a person's judgment of the behavior of those around him was always too subjective.But from the first time she met him, she knew that he already had the idea of ​​having to host a meeting of 12... He might even have the idea of ​​directly holding an All Free State Congress attended by more than 1,000 people.Now it seems that he has always had this idea. It frees you, darling, she thought.I will cry for others but still be proud of you and love you deeply... She moved slightly, leaning closer against the toilet door. "Let's have our guest speak first," Stu said, "and then we'll have a short closed meeting. Any objections?" No one objected. "Very well," Stu said, "I'd like to give Brad Kitchener the floor first, and listen carefully, because he's going to put your whiskey back on ice in three days. A burst of heartfelt applause rang out at the same time.Brad flushed with tension, tightened his tie, and walked to the middle of the room.He went to a step stool and stood on it. "I'm... very... happy... to be here," Brad said, his voice trembling.It looked as if he would be happier anywhere else, even addressing a colony of penguins in Antarctica. "This... ah..." He paused for a moment, then became active after reading his manuscript. "Electricity!" he yelled, with the look on his face of a man who has made some great discovery. "We're going to get the electricity on, yeah." He fumbled and looked at the manuscript again, and continued to talk. "We had two generators, you know, one was overloaded and broke stuff in it. With all due respect, I mean it didn't look good. Overloaded, to be exact. Well...you get my drift. " There was a chuckle from the crowd, which seemed to take Brad's nerves a little further. "It happened because a lot of people were gone when the disaster happened and we didn't turn on the remaining generators to relieve the overload. We could have turned on the rest of the generators to relieve the overload - even if it was three or four. Yes - but that doesn't eliminate the risk of fire. So we should turn off everything that can be turned off, stove blowtorch, electric switch, everything. Actually, here's what I think: the quickest way is maybe Unplug the fuse or disconnect the mains key in every room that is unoccupied. Right? Now, when we're about to open up, I think we should take some precautions against electrical fires. I took the liberty of checking Firehouse in East Boulder, uh..." The fire in the fireplace was crackling and crackling.Things will be all right soon, Franny thought.It would be best if Harold and Nadina had left of their own accord.That would solve the problem, and they would no longer be a threat to Stu.Poor Harold, I'm really sorry, I pity you, but I'm more worried about you.I'm more afraid of what's going to happen to you than sympathy, and I'm glad your home is empty and you and Nadina are gone.I'm glad you've left us safely. Harold sat cross-legged on a pictorial picnic table, like something out of a madman's Zen manual, his eyes deep and lost in thought.He had already been to that cold and strange place, and Nadina could not go with him, and she was afraid to go there.In his hand was a shoebox containing a pair of walkie-talkies.The mountains in front of me are steep and steep, and pines and cypresses grow in the ravines.A few miles to the east—maybe 10, maybe 40—the land gradually merges with the American Midwest, disappearing on a gray horizon.Night has fallen over that land.Behind them, the sun had disappeared behind the mountains, leaving only their silhouettes in the golden sunset, which would soon blur and disappear. "When?" Nadina asked.She was so nervous that she had to go, despite being very upset. "Soon," said Harold.His grin turned into a sweet smile, an expression that eluded her because she had never seen him look like that on his face before.She wondered for a while.Harold looked happy. The committee voted 7-0 to authorize Bullard to call up 20 men and women to form his "switch off team."Ralph Brentner also agreed to drive the Fire Station's two old water tankers at the Boulder Reservoir to the power station when Brad flipped the switch. Chad Norris was second to speak.Speaking quietly, with his hands in the pockets of his yellow chinos, he described what the funeral committee had been doing for the past three weeks.He said they had buried an incredible 25,000 bodies, more than 8,000 a week, and he believed they had now surpassed that. "We were lucky, or blessed," he said, "that the exodus—that's the way I know it—does most of the work for us. In another town about the size of Boulder, In a city like this one, the same job might take a year to complete. We estimate that by October 1st, there will be another 20,000 dead bodies, and we'll have to stagger over them for a long time again, but I want to tell you that we're doing it, and I think we don't have to worry too much about what's going on in those unburied bodies." Franny shifted so that she could see the last rays of the setting sun outside the window.The golden afterglow that surrounded the mountain just now had begun to fade to a lemon color, and it looked less spectacular than before.A sudden wave of homesickness came up in her, so sudden and overwhelming that she fell into it. It's 8 o'clock in 5 minutes. If she doesn't go into the jungle, she'll wet her pants.She stooped around a thicket, then straightened up.When she came back, Harold was still sitting on the picnic table with the walkie-talkie in his hand, with the antenna unplugged. "Harold," she said. "It's late, it's past 8 o'clock." He gave her a cold look. "They'll pat each other on the back and stay there till midnight. Then I'll pull the safety pin. Are you worried?" "when?" Harold gave a hollow smile. "As soon as it gets dark." Frannie was about to yawn when Al Bundle walked up to Stu confidently, and Frannie held back.They seemed to be driving late, and she had a sudden urge to go back to the apartment, just the two of them.It wasn't just exhaustion, and it didn't quite look like homesickness.It's just that I suddenly don't want to stay in this house.There is no reason for this emotion, but it is so strong.She wants to go out.In fact, she wanted them all out.I've lost all the good thoughts I should have had tonight, she said to herself, the blues of a pregnant woman, that's all. "The Law Commission had four meetings last week," Al said. "I'll keep it brief. The system we've decided on is a sort of court. The current members will be drawn by lot, and young men can be chosen in the same way..." "Shh, shhh!" Susan called, to the laughter of the others. Al smiled. "However, I would like to add that I feel this court service will be more popular than those requested. The court will consist of 3 adults - 18+ inclusive - serving 6 months .They will be drawn from among all adults in Boulder." Larry waved his hand. "Can they be forgiven if something happens to them?" Al frowned slightly and said, "I'm about to address this. They're going to have to..." Franny moved uncomfortably, and Susan Stern winked at her.Franny didn't wink at him.She was afraid—and afraid of her own nameless fear, if such a thing was possible.I really don't know where this suffocating, depression-like thoughts come from?She knew that with such an unnamed feeling, it was best to ignore it...at least in the past.But what's up with Tom Curran's trance?And what about Leo Rockaway? Leaving here, the voice in my heart suddenly shouted.Get them all out! But that idea is crazy.She moved again, deciding not to say anything. "... people who want to be forgiven will be removed from office, but I don't think..." "Someone is here." Frannie said suddenly and stood up. A short silence.Everyone could hear the motorbike speeding towards them down Baseli Street, very fast, with the horn whistling.Frannie was suddenly terrified. "Listen," she cried, "listen, all of you!" Everyone turned to look at her in surprise and concern. "Frannie, you..." Stu turned to look at her. She choked for words.She felt a weight weighing on her heart, making her breathless. "We have to get out of here. Now..." It was already 8:25, and the last ray of light in the sky disappeared into the night.When the time came, Harold sat up slightly and put the walkie-talkie close to his mouth.His thumb lightly rests on the "send" key.Now to blow them all to hell, all he has to do is press that button and say... "what is that?" Nadina put her hand on his arm and distracted him by pointing.Below the mountain in the distance, on the spiraling Besen Mountain, there is a string of lights.In the dead silence around them, they could faintly hear the roar of many motorcycle motors.A unease flashed through Harold's mind, but then he put it behind him. "Let go," he said, "that's it." Her hand slipped from his shoulder.Her face showed a pale outline in the darkness.Harold hit the "send" button. She didn't know if it was the sound of the motorcycle or her words that got them moving.But they don't move quickly.That feeling was always with her: they weren't moving fast enough. Stu was the first to come to the door, and the roar and echo of the motorcycle were very loud.Headlights were shining brightly as the caravan crossed a small bridge over the dry creek bed below Ralph's house.Stu's hand instinctively grabbed the gun. The screen door opened and he turned, expecting it to be Franny.It turned out to be Larry. "What's the matter, Stu?" "Don't know. But we'd better get them out." Then the convoy meandered into the driveway, and Stu relaxed a little.He could recognize Dick Wollman, the gringer kid, Teddy Weichak and a few others.Now he could allow himself to think back to what he had feared most: behind the blinding lights and roaring motors was Flagg's armed spearhead, a battle about to break out. "Dick," said Stu, "what's the matter?" "Mama Abgail!" Dick yelled from the motorcycle.More and more motorcycles filled the yard, and members of the committee filed from the house.The car lights swayed, and the figures spun like a carousel, all of which seemed to be a scene only at a carnival. "What?" Larry called.Behind him and Stu, Gran, Ralph, and Chad Norris all pushed up, pushing Larry and Stu to the foot of the steps. "She's back!" Dick had to shout at them amidst the roar of the motor. "She's in dire condition! We need a doctor urgently...God, we need a miracle!" George Richardson squeezed his way through the crowd. "Is that the old woman? Where is she?" "Come on, doctor!" Dick called to him. "Don't ask questions! For God's sake, hurry up!" Richardson stepped into the car and sat behind Dick Wallman.Dick made a sharp turn, weaved through the group of motorcycles in the yard, and sped back. Stu's eyes met Larry's, looking as bewildered as he was...but a cloud rose in Stu's mind, and for a split second a sense of impending doom engulfed him. "Nick, come on! Come on!" cried Franny, grabbing him by the shoulders.Nick stood quietly in the middle of the living room, face sinking like water, motionless. He couldn't speak, but suddenly he understood.He gets it.It doesn't know where it came from, but it comes from all directions. There is something in the toilet. He gave Frannie a hard push. "Nick...!" Walk! !He waved at her. she left.He turned around and went outside the toilet, opened the door, and started tearing those messy things frantically, silently hoping that it was not too late. Suddenly Franny came to Stu, pale, eyes wide open in horror, and grabbed him. "Stu...Nick is still there...something...something..." "Frannie, what are you talking about?" "Die!" she screamed at him. "I'm talking about death, and Nick's still in there!" He pushed aside a pile of hoods and gloves and touched something.A shoebox.He grabbed it, and at this moment, like a vicious witchcraft, Harold Lauder's voice came from inside. "What's wrong with Nick?" Stu asked, grabbing her by the shoulder. "We've got to get him out. . . Stu . . . something's going to happen, something terrible. . . . " Al Bundle yelled, "What the hell happened, Stuart?" "I don't know," Stu said. "Stew, please, we have to get Nick out of there!" cried Franny. Just then, the house exploded behind them. Harold pressed the "send" button, and the background static disappeared, replaced by a dead silence.Space, waiting for him to fill.Harold sat cross-legged on the picnic table, pulling himself together. Then he raised his arm, clenched his fist, and stretched out a finger. At this time, he was like Granny Ruth, old and even about to die, pointing at the place he was going to blow up, pointing at those troublemakers and stinky mouths , let them shut their mouths forever. He spoke quietly but firmly into the walkie-talkie: "I'm Harold Amy Lauder. What I do is completely voluntary." A blue and white flash answered "I am".A beam of flames rushed towards "Harold Amy Lauder".When he said, "I do these," a dull pop, like a cherry firecracker exploding in a tin can, exploded in their ears, and when he had finished, "I did it of my own free will," and By the time he tossed the walkie-talkie aside, he had accomplished his goal, and a fire was already burning beneath Flagstaff Hill. "Smasher, saboteur, signal received, over, over," Harold said softly. Nadina grabbed him just as Franny had grabbed Stu. "We should make sure. We should make sure we blew them up." Harold looked at her, then gestured for her to look down the hill at the explosion. "Do you think something could escape from there?" "I...I don't...well, Harold, I..." Nadina turned away, clutched her stomach, and began to vomit.It was a deep, constant, painful sound.Harold watched her with tenderness and contempt. Finally she turned away, panting, wiping her mouth with a Clinex tissue. "What should we do now?" "Now I think we'll go west," said Harold, "unless you want to go down and see what they're like." Nadina shrugged. Harold slid off the table, flinching from the nails as soon as his feet touched the ground. "Harold..." She tried to get close to him, but he pulled away.Without looking at her, he started tearing down the tent. "I think we'll have to wait until tomorrow..." She was a little timid. "Of course," he quipped, "so that 20 or 30 of them decide to come out on motorcycles and fan out to get us. Did you see what they did to Mussolini? " She frowned.Harold was rolling up the tent and tying it up with the bottom rope. "We didn't touch each other. That's the end of it. It gave Flagg what he wanted. We made his Free State Council useless. They're screwed. They might get the power plant going, but as A functional organization, they're screwed. He'll give me a woman who'll make you look like a potato sack, Nadina. And you...you got him. Happy days, right?" "Harold... please..." she cried uncomfortably.Seeing the faint anger on her face, he felt a little regretful.He tried to get the feeling out of his mind, like being in a cozy tavern in the country where everyone knew everyone.The unalterable fact of murder remained in her forever--a fact that flickered painfully in her eyes.But so what?It also flickered in his eyes. "Get used to it," said Harold grimly.He threw the tent on the back seat of the car and tied it tight. "It's over for them, it's over for us, it's over for those who died in that disaster. God left here to go fishing in heaven, and he's going to be away for a long time. It's completely dark. The black The man in the suit is now in the driver's seat. Him. Then get used to it." She let out a high-pitched moan from her throat. "Come on, Nadina. This isn't the beauty pageant it was 2 minutes ago. Help me roll this shit up. I want to go 100 miles before the sun comes up." After a moment, she turned her back on the scene of destruction downhill—the damage seemed insignificant for the height—and helped him pack the rest of his camp gear in his tool bag and her net bag. Fifteen minutes later, they had left the blazing fire behind and were racing westward through the wind-whispering darkness. For Frannie Goldsmith, the day ended simply and painlessly.She felt a wave of heat hit her back, and she flew into the night sky.Even her sandals were blown off. Ruined?she thinks.When she fell, she landed on her shoulders and fell heavily to the ground, but she felt no pain.She landed exactly in the north-south ditch at the bottom of Ralph's back yard. A chair fell in front of her. The legs were clean, but the upholstery was burning, but there was no flame and it was a black mass. Ruined? Something fell into the chair and rolled down.Something is dripping.She felt the kind of fear that could only be experienced in a hospital, and suddenly she felt dizzy, and she realized that it was an arm. Stu?Stu!What happened? A constant, piercing sound drowned her out, and things rained down here and there, stones.Chunks of wood.brick.A block of glass blasted like a cobweb (were not the bookshelves in Ralph's living room made of these blocks?) A motorcycle helmet with a ghastly hole in the back of it.She could see all this clearly... too clearly.Just a few seconds ago, it was dark outside - oh, Stu, my God, where are you?What happened?Nick?Larry? People are screaming.That piercing sound continued.It was brighter than noon now.Every stone casts a shadow.Objects were still falling around her.A plank fell in front of her, with a 6-inch nail driven through it. ……child! ... Then a thought came, a foreboding reappeared: Harold did it, Harold did it, Harold... Something hit her on the head, on her neck, on her back.Something huge weighed on her like a padded coffin. oh my god oh boy... The darkness has completely crushed her to nowhere, and even the man in black can no longer follow her.