pzb.drawingblood-第73部分

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oor　and　cracked　mirrors　on　the　walls　so　dusty　that　he　could　not　see　his　face　in　them。　And　Steve　would　never　say　what　he　had　seen；　except　that　it　had　legs　like　a　bug。
　　They　had　all　felt　that　the　place　was　sucking　at　them；　that　they　could　get　lost　in　here　and　never　e　back。　What　Terry　hadn't　admitted　to　the　others…but　suspected　they'd　felt　as　well…was　that　for　a　moment　the　idea　of　getting　lost　had　tempted　him。　Here　were　sweet　poisons　and　twisted　dreams。　Here　were　things　he　could　never　touch　with　hands　of　mere　flesh　and　bone　。。。
　　They　had　run　out　yelling；　slapping　high…fives　but　not　fooling　each　other　for　a　second。　They　had　tumbled　off　the　porch　and　across　the　weed…choked　yard；　toward　the　small　stubborn　figure　of　Ghost　far　away　on　the　other　side　of　the　road。　None　of　them　had　ever　gone　back。　But　Terry　had　dreamed　of　it；　that　strange　seductive　slum。　And　he　would　be　willing　to　bet　Steve　and　R。J。　had　had　dreams　of　their　own。
　　Terry　realized　he　had　been　woolgathering。　Two　kids　were　standing　by　the　imports　section　eyeing　him　speculatively。　One　was　a　lean　black　guy　wearing　a　Yellowman　shirt　and　voluminous　multipocketed　fatigue　pants；　long　color…threaded　dreadlocks　pulled　back　in　a　thick　ponytail　from　his　amiable；　slightly　horsey　face。　The　other　was　an　absolute　knockout；　a　stunning　Asian　girl　with　short　hair　that　accented　her　large　tilted　eyes　and　exquisite　bones。　She　wore　a　lot　of　earrings；　but　no　makeup。　Terry　hadn't　seen　either　of　them　around　town　before。
　　〃Help　you　with　something？〃　he　inquired。　Probably　they　were　looking　for　Steve　and　Ghost。　Kids　from　the　fringe　had　started　drifting　into　town　over　the　past　year；　since　Lost　Souls？　had　managed　to　get　their　tape　distributed　to　record　stores　up　and　down　the　East　Coast。　Most　just　wanted　to　see　a　show；　a　few　wanted　to　camp　out　in　the　band's　yard；　or　thought　Ghost　was　their　true　soulmate　due　to　secret　personal　messages　they　heard　in　his　lyrics。　It　was　a　little　unnerving；　but　it　had　brought　in　tons　of　business　when　Steve　worked　at　the　store。　Even　now　that　Lost　Souls？　was　touring；　when　Terry　pointed　out　that　he　had　played　drums　on　their　tape；　these　kids　would　always　buy　a　Whirling　Disc　T…shirt。
　　The　girl　stepped　forward　and；　to　Terry's　surprise；　pushed　a　photograph　of　Zach　across　the　counter。　The　photo　had　been　taken　at　night；　and　Terry　recognized　the　locale　as　New　Orleans；　probably　during　Mardi　Gras。　Zach　was　hanging　on　to　a　lamppost　with　one　hand；　clutching　a　Dixie　beer　with　the　other；　wearing　a　purple　jacket　and　a　shirt　made　of　black　fishnet　and　a　huge　shit…eating　grin；　obviously　drunk　within　an　inch　of　his　life。
　　〃We're　looking　for　this　boy；〃　she　said。　〃His　name　is　Zachary。　He's　a　good　friend　of　ours；　and　he's　in　a　lot　of　trouble。〃
　　〃He　looks　like　he　might　be。〃　Terry　picked　up　the　photograph；　pretended　to　consider　it。　〃Nice　young　kid；　though。　I'd　hate　to　see　the　cops　get　hold　of　him。〃
　　〃We're　not　cops！　We're　trying　to　warn　him　about…〃　The　girl　shut　her　mouth　as　if　she　thought　she'd　already　said　too　much。　Her　panion　approached　the　counter。
　　〃We　e　in　peace；〃　he　said；　holding　out　a　large　slender　hand。　〃We　are　his　brudda　an'　sista。　My　name　is　Dougal。　The　lady　is　Edwina。　Eddy。〃
　　Terry　took　the　hand　and　shook　it。　Dougal　spoke　with　a　thick　Jamaican　accent；　and　his　eyes　were　sharp；　kind；　stoned。　The　girl's　burned　like　embers。　Terry　believed　they　were　Zach's　friends；　though　probably　not　his　actual　brudda　an'　sista。　They　smelled　faintly　sweaty；　as　if　they　had　been　driving　all　night。　And　the　photo　was　worn；　rubbed　around　the　edges。　Someone　had　spent　a　lot　of　time　looking　at　it；　and　Terry　was　willing　to　bet　that　someone　was　Edwina。　Eddy。
　　Still；　it　was　one　thing　to　trust　people　based　on　a　gut　reaction；　it　was　quite　another　when　the　feds　might　be　involved。　He　was　glad　they　hadn't　happened　upon　Kinsey　first。　〃How　e　you　to　ask　in　here？〃
　　〃Because　Zach's　a　freak；〃　Eddy　said　simply；　〃and　freaks　tend　to　frequent　record　stores。〃
　　Terry　couldn't　argue　with　that。　〃Well…look…you　understand　I　want　to　be　sure　you're　cool。　Give　me　something　I　can　trust。〃
　　〃How　'bout　we　all　relax　a　little　firs'；〃　said　Dougal；　and　pulled　out　a　straw　pouch　and　a　package　of　rolling　papers。　As　soon　as　he　opened　the　pouch；　the　sweet　sticky　reek　of　absolute　primo　weed　filled　the　store。　Terry　saw　a　double　handful　of　tightly　packed　bright　green　bud　bristling　with　tiny　red　hairs。　Dougal　pinched　off　a　generous　amount　and　started　rolling　a　huge　spliff　right　there　on　the　counter。
　　〃Okay！　Okay！〃　Terry　jumped　up。　〃Hang　on！　Let's　go　in　the　back　room　and　talk　this　over。〃　He　locked　the　door；　flipped　the　sign　to　the　side　that　read　BACK　IN　5　。。。　OR　15　。。。　OR　WHENEVER。
　　In　the　back　room；　among　piles　of　records；　tapes；　and　CDs；　stray　equipment　stored　here　by　various　bands；　and　posters　rolled　into　unwieldy；　unstackable　paper　tubes；　Dougal　fired　up　the　joint　and　Eddy　gave　Terry　a　quick　rundown　of　their　situation。　She　didn't　offer　many　details；　only　that　Zach　had　managed　to　get　himself　into　an　awful　lot　of　trouble　with　his　puter　and　they　wanted　to　help　him　get　out　of　the　country。　Terry　had　read　about　puter　hackers　and　been　intrigued　by　them；　but　he　didn't　know　they　ever　ripped　shit　off　on　the　scale　Eddy　implied　Zach　had。
　　He　hit　the　joint；　which　tasted　even　better　than　it　smelled；　and　held　the　smoke　in　for　a　long　time。　He　didn't　think　so　much　of　theft；　but　it　was　hard　to　feel　sorry　for　vast　bloated　corporate　entities　like　Citibank　and　Southern　Bell。　They　loved　to　talk　about　how　the　cost　of　such　theft　was　passed　on　to　the　consumer；　Terry　reflected；　but　when　was　any　cost　of　big　business　not　passed　on　to　the　little　guy　at　the　bottom　of　the　ladder？
　　Whatever　Zach's　morals　（or　lack　thereof）；　Terry　genuinely　liked　him。　If　there　was　even　a　slim　chance　that　feds　were　heading　for　Missing　Mile　to　nab　him；　Terry　knew　he　had　to　help　Zach　get　away。
　　〃Okay；〃　he　said。　〃Truth。　Zach's　in　town。〃
　　Eddy's　face　lit　up　with　a　beautiful；　delighted　smile。　She　was　obviously　crazy　for　Zach…along　with　half　the　world；　it　was　beginning　to　seem。　Terry　refused　to　be　responsible　for　breaking　the　news　of　Trevor　to　her。　It　wasn't　his　damn　business　anyway。　But　he　had　a　hunch　that　the　plane　out　of　the　country　was　going　to　be　carrying　an　extra　passenger；　and　not　the　one　Eddy　probably　hoped　it　would　be；　either。
　　〃He's　staying　with　a　friend；〃　Terry　said。　〃In　an　abandoned；　haunted　house。　Now　I'm　not　going　out　there；　and　I　don't　guess　you　better　go　by　yourselves　either。　But　I'll　take　you　over　to　my　friend　Kinsey's。　He　doesn't　mind　ghosts。　He'll　go　tell　Zach　you're　here。〃
　　Someone　pounded　on　the　front　door。　All　three　heads　jerked　up；　all　three　faces　snapped　toward　the　sound。
　　〃Wait　here；〃　said　Terry。　〃Don't　e　out　unless　I　call　you。　If　you　hear　any　other　voices；　go　out　the　back　door　over　there。〃　He　picked　up　a　can　of　Glade　air　freshener　and　tossed　it　to　Eddy。　〃Here；　spray　some　of　this　crap　around。〃
　　Terry　ducked　under　the　curtain　and　went　to　the　front　of　the　store。　Two　broad…shouldered　guys　in　suits　and　mirrorshades　were　at　the　door；　already　pounding　again。　〃Hold　your　fuckin'　water；〃　Terry　muttered。　He　unlocked　the　door　and　opened　it　a　crack。　〃C'n　I　help　you？〃
　　〃Absalom　Cover；　U。S。　Secret　Service。〃　The　taller　dude　flashed　a　badge　at　Terry。　He　was　lean　and　hard…jawed；　with　dark　hair　slicked　back　from　his　narrow　face。　Terry　thought　he　could　make　out　the　bulge　of　a　pistol　beneath　that　well…cut　jacket。　〃This　is　my　partner；　Stan　Schulman。　May　we　step　in　and　ask　you　a　few　questions？〃
　　〃Uh　。　。　。　actually；　no。〃　Terry　slipped　out　through　the　door；　pushed　it　shut　behind　him。　The　sidewalk　was　bright　and　dazzling；　and　he　realized　he　was　about　as　stoned　as　he　could　be。　But　he　knew　his　rights。　If　they　didn't　have　a　warrant；　he　didn't　have　to　let　them　in　the　store。
　　〃I'm　doing　inventory；〃　he　explained；　〃and　there's　stuff　piled　up　everywhere。　I　can't　have　a　bunch　of　people　walking　around　knocking　my　stacks　over。　You　wanna　ask　me　something　out　here？〃
　　〃Your　name？〃
　　〃Terry　Buckett。　I　own　this　place。〃
　　The　other　agent；　Schulman；　reached　into　his　jacket。　He　looked　dumpy　and　unkempt　next　to　the　sleek　Cover。　Terry　could　see　oily　beads　of　sweat　standing　out　on　the　man's　scalp；　clearly　visible　through　the　thinning　hair。　There　were　even　a　few　in　his　mustache。　Terry　tried　to　imagine　what　it　would　be　like　to　have　a　job　that　made　you　wear　a　jacket　and　tie　in　the　heat　of　a　Carolina　summer。
　　Schulman　pulled　out　a　small　photograph。　〃Have　you　ever　seen　this　person　before？〃
　　Terry　studied　the　photo；　managed　not　to　laugh　at　Zach's　fuck…you　scowl。　〃No　。。。　I　don't　think　so。〃
　　〃You　must　see　a　lot　of　kids　in　your　line　of　work；〃　Schulman　urged。　〃Try　to　be　sure。　His　name　is　Zachary　Bosch。　He's　nineteen　years　old。〃
　　〃And　he's　a　dangerous　criminal　and　a　menace　to　society；　right？　Nope；　sorry；　I　haven't　seen　him。〃　Terry　folded　his　arms　across　his　chest　and　stared　at　the　agents。　He　saw　himself　reflected　in　their　sunglasses；　four　little　images　of　his　ratty　hair　and　faded　blue　bandanna　cheering　him　on。　Bosch。　It　figured。
　　〃We　know　he's　in　town；〃　said　Schulman。　〃They　gave　us　a　positive　ID　up　the　street　at　the　diner。　We've　got　this　whole　place　blanketed。　If　you　know　where　he　is　and　don't　tell　us；　all　sorts　of　bad　things