sk.thegunslinger-第28部分

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Strange　hands　slapped　the　metal　plane　of　the　car's　surface。　The　boy　was　holding　his　belt　with　both　hands　now；　his　face　pressed　tightly　into　the　small　of　the　gunslinger's　back。
A　group　of　them　ran　onto　the　tracks；　their　faces　full　of　that　mindless；　casual　anticipation。　The　gunslinger　was　pumped　full　of　adrenalin；　the　car　was　flying　along　the　tracks　into　the　darkness。　They　struck　the　four　or　five　pitiful　hulks　full　force。　They　flew　like　rotten　bananas　struck　from　the　stem。
On　and　on；　into　the　soundless；　flying；　banshee　darkness。
After　an　age；　the　boy　raised　his　face　into　the　made　wind；　dreading　and　yet　needing　to　know。　The　ghost　of　gun…flashes　still　lingered　on　his　retinas。　There　was　nothing　to　see　but　the　darkness　and　nothing　to　hear　but　the　rumble　of　the　river。
〃They're　gone；〃　the　boy　said；　suddenly　fearing　an　end　to　the　tracks　in　the　darkness；　and　the　wounding　crash　as　they　jumped　the　rails　and　plunged　to　twisted　ruin。　He　had　ridden　in　cars；　once　his　humorless　father　had　driven　at　ninety　on　the　New　Jersey　Turnpike　and　had　been　stopped。　But　he　had　never　ridden　like　this；　with　the　wind　and　the　blindness　and　the　terrors　behind　and　ahead；　with　the　sound　of　the　river　like　a　chuckling　voice　　the　voice　of　the　man　in　black。　The　gunslinger's　arms　were　pistons　in　a　lunatic　human　factory。
〃They're　gone；〃　the　boy　said　timidly；　the　words　ripped　from　his　mouth　by　the　wind。　〃You　can　slow　down　now。　We　left　them　behind。〃
But　the　gunslinger　did　not　hear。　They　careened　onward　into　the　strange　dark。
They　went　on　three　periods　of　waking　and　sleeping　without　incident。
During　the　fourth　period　of　waking　（halfway　through？　three…quarters？　they　didn't　know　　only　that　they　weren't　tired　enough　yet　to　stop）　there　was　a　sharp　thump　beneath　them；　the　handcar　swayed；　and　their　bodies　immediately　leaned　to　the　right　with　gravity　as　the　rails　took　a　gradual　turn　to　the　left。
There　was　a　light　ahead　　a　glow　so　faint　and　alien　that　it　seemed　at　first　to　be　a　totally　new　element；　neither　earth；　air；　fire；　or　water。　It　had　no　color　and　could　only　be　discerned　by　the　fact　that　they　had　regained　their　hands　and　faces　in　a　dimension　beyond　that　of　touch。　Their　eyes　had　bee　so　light…sensitive　that　they　noticed　the　glow　over　five　miles　before　they　approached　it。
〃The　end；〃　the　boy　said　tightly。　〃It's　the　end。〃
〃No。〃　The　gunslinger　spoke　with　odd　assurance。　〃It　isn't。〃
And　it　was　not。　They　reached　light　but　not　day。
As　they　approached　the　source　of　the　glow；　they　saw　for　the　first　time　that　the　rock　wall　to　the　left　had　fallen　away　and　their　tracks　had　been　joined　by　others　which　crossed　in　a　plex　spider　web。　The　light　laid　them　in　burnished　vectors。　On　some　of　them　there　were　dark　boxcars；　passenger　coaches；　a　stage　that　had　been　adapted　to　rails。　They　made　the　gunslinger　nervous；　like　ghost　galleons　trapped　in　an　underground　Sargasso。
The　light　grew　stronger；　hurting　their　eyes　a　little；　but　growing　slowly　enough　to　allow　them　to　adapt。　They　came　from　dark　to　light　like　divers　ing　up　from　deep　fathoms　in　slow　stages。
Ahead；　drawing　nearer；　was　a　huge　hangar　stretching　up　into　the　dark。　Cut　into　it；　showing　yellow　squares　of　light；　were　a　series　of　perhaps　twenty…four　entranceways；　growing　from　the　size　of　toy　windows　to　a　height　of　twenty　feet　as　they　drew　closer。　They　passed　inside　through　one　of　the　middle　ways。　Written　above　were　a　series　of　characters；　in　various　languages；　the　gunslinger　presumed。　He　was　astounded　to　find　that　he　could　read　the　last　one；　it　was　an　ancient　root　of　the　High　Speech　itself　and　said：
TRACK　10　TO　SURFACE　AND　POINTS　WEST
The　light　inside　was　brighter；　the　tracks　met　and　merged　through　a　series　of　switchings。　Here　some　of　the　traffic　lanterns　still　worked；　flashing　eternal　reds　and　greens　and　ambers。
They　rolled　between　rising　stone　piers　caked　black　with　the　passage　of　thousands　of　vehicles；　and　then　they　were　in　some　kind　of　central　terminal。　The　gunslinger　let　the　hand…car　coast　slowly　to　a　stop；　and　they　peered　around。
〃It's　like　the　subway；〃　the　boy　said。
〃Subway？〃
〃Never　mind。〃
The　boy　climbed　up　and　onto　the　hard　cement。　They　looked　at　silent；　deserted　booths　where　newspapers　and　books　had　once　been　vended；　an　ancient　bootery；　a　weapon　shop　（the　gunslinger；　with　a　sudden　burst　of　excitement；　saw　revolvers　and　rifles；　closer　inspection　showed　that　their　barrels　had　been　filled　with　lead；　he　did；　however；　pick　out　a　bow；　which　he　slung　over　his　back；　and　a　quiver　of　almost　useless；　badly　weighted　arrows）；　a　women's　apparel　shop。　Somewhere　a　converter　was　turning　the　air　over　and　over；　as　it　had　for　thousands　of　years　　but　perhaps　not　for　much　longer。　It　had　a　grating　noise　somewhere　in　the　middle　of　its　cycle　which　served　to　remind　that　perpetual　motion；　even　under　strictly　controlled　conditions；　is　still　a　fool's　dream。　The　air　had　a　mechanized　taste。　Their　shoes　made　flat　echoes。
The　boy　cried　out：　〃Hey！　Hey。。。。〃
The　gunslinger　turned　around　and　went　to　him。　The　boy　was　standing；　transfixed；　at　the　book　stall。　Inside；　sprawled　in　the　far　corner；　was　a　mummy。　The　mummy　was　wearing　a　blue　uniform　with　gold　piping　　a　trainman's　uniform　by　the　look。　There　was　an　ancient；　perfectly　preserved　newspaper　on　the　mummy's　lap；　which　crumbled　to　dust　when　the　gunslinger　attempted　to　look　at　it。　The　mummy's　face　was　like　an　old；　shriveled　apple。　Cautiously；　the　gunslinger　touched　the　cheek。　There　was　a　small　puff　of　dust；　and　they　looked　through　the　cheek　and　into　the　mummy's　mouth。　A　gold　tooth　twinkled。
〃Gas；〃　the　gunslinger　murmured。　〃They　used　to　be　able　to　make　a　gas　that　would　do　this。〃
〃They　fought　wars　with　it；〃　the　boy　said　darkly。
〃Yes。〃
There　were　other　mummies；　not　a　great　many；　but　a　few。　They　were　all　wearing　blue　and　gold　ornamental　uniforms。　The　gunslinger　supposed　that　the　gas　had　been　used　when　the　place　was　empty　of　all　ining　and　outgoing　traffic。　Perhaps；　in　some　dim　day；　the　station　had　been　a　military　objective　of　some　long…gone　army　and　cause。
The　thought　depressed　him。
〃We　had　better　go　on；〃　he　said；　and　started　toward　Track　10　and　the　handcar　again。　But　the　boy　stood　rebelliously　behind　him。
〃Not　going。〃
The　gunslinger　turned　back；　surprised。
The　boy's　face　was　twisted　and　trembling。　〃You　won't　get　what　you　want　until　I'm　dead。　I'll　take　my　chances　by　myself。〃
The　gunslinger　nodded　nonmittally；　hating　himself。　〃Okay。〃　He　turned　around　and　walked　across　to　the　stone　piers　and　leaped　easily　down　onto　the　handcar。
〃You　made　a　deal！〃　The　boy　screamed　after　him。　〃I　know　you　did！〃
The　gunslinger；　not　replying；　carefully　put　the　bow　in　front　of　the　T…post　rising　out　of　the　handcar's　floor；　out　of　harm's　way。
The　boy's　fists　were　clenched；　his　features　drawn　in　agony。
How　easily　you　bluff　this　young　boy；　the　gunslinger　told　himself　dryly。　Again　and　again　his　intuition　has　led　him　to　this　point；　and　again　and　again　you　have　led　him　on　by　the　nose　　after　all；　he　has　no　friends　but　you。
In　a　sudden；　simple　thought　（almost　a　vision）　it　came　to　him　that　all　he　had　to　do　was　give　it　over；　turn　around；　take　the　boy　with　him；　make　him　the　center　of　a　new　force。　The　Tower　did　not　have　to　be　obtained　in　this　humiliating；　nose…rubbing　way。　Let　it　e　after　the　boy　had　a　growth　of　years；　when　the　two　of　them　could　cast　the　man　in　black　aside　like　a　cheap　wind…up　toy。
Surely；　he　thought　cynically。　Surely。
He　knew　with　sudden　coldness　that　going　backward　would　mean　death　for　both　of　them　　death　or　worse：　entombment　with　the　living　dead　behind　them。　Decay　of　all　the　faculties。　With；　perhaps；　the　guns　of　his　father　living　long　after　both　of　them；　kept　in　rotten　splendor　as　totems　not　unlike　the　unforgotten　gas　pump。
Show　some　guts；　he　told　himself　falsely。
He　reached　for　the　handle　and　began　to　pump　it。　The　handcar　moved　away　from　the　stone　piers。
The　boy　screamed：　〃Wait！〃　And　began　running　on　the　diagonal；　toward　where　the　handcar　would　emerge　toward　the　darkness　ahead。　The　gunslinger　had　an　impulse　to　speed　up；　to　leave　the　boy　alone　yet　at　least　with　an　uncertainty。
Instead；　he　caught　him　as　he　leaped。　The　heart　beneath　the　thin　shirt　thrummed　and　fluttered　as　Jake　clung　to　him。　It　was　like　the　beat　of　a　chicken's　heart。
It　was　very　close　now。
The　sound　of　the　river　had　bee　very　loud；　filling　even　their　dreams　with　its　steady　thunder。　The　gunslinger；　more　as　a　whim　than　anything　else；　let　the　boy　pump　them　ahead　while　he　shot　a　number　of　arrows　into　the　dark；　tethered　by　fine　white　lengths　of　thread。
The　bow　was　very　bad；　incredibly　preserved　but　with　a　terrible　pull　and　aim　despite　that；　and　the　gunslinger　knew　that　very　little　would　improve　it。　Even　re…stringing　would　not　help　the　tired　wood。　The　arrows　would　not　fly　far　into　the　dark；　but　the　last　one　he　sent　out　came　back　wet　and　slick。　The　gunslinger　only　shrugged　when　the　boy　asked　him　how　far；　but　privately　he　didn't　think　the　arrow　could　have　traveled　more　than　a　hundred　yards　from　the　rotted　bow　　and　lucky　to　get　that。
And　still　the　sound　grew　louder。
During　the　third　waking　period　after　the　station；　a　spectral　radiance　began　to　grow　again。　They　had　entered　a　long　tunnel　of　some　weird　phosphorescent　rock；　and　the　wet　walls　glittered　and　twinkled　with　thousands　of　minute　starbursts。　They　saw　things　in　a　kind　of　eerie；　horror…house　surreality。