osc.am2.redprophet-第30部分

快捷操作: 按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页 按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页 按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！

l　the　same　straight　through；　living　flesh；　on　the　other　hand；　was　plicated　with　all　kinds　of　little　stuff　that　he　had　to　get　right　in　his　head　before　he　could　change　it　and　make　it　whole。
　　So　when　one　of　the　Reds　sat　down　in　front　of　Measure；　brandishing　a　knife；　Al　didn't　wait　for　him　to　start　cutting。　He　got　that　knife　into　his　head；　the　steel　of　the　blade　　White　man's　knife；　just　like　they　were　carrying　White　man's　muskets。　He　found　the　edge　of　it；　the　point；　and　flattened　it　out；　smoothed　it；　rounded　it。
　　The　Red　laid　that　knife　up　against　Measure's　bare　chest　and　tried　to　cut。　Measure　braced　himself　for　the　pain　to　start。　But　that　knife　made　no　more　mark　on　Measure　than　if　it　was　a　spoon。
　　Al　almost　laughed　to　see　that　Red　pull　his　knife　away　and　look　at　it；　try　to　see　what　was　wrong。　He　ran　the　edge　against　his　own　finger；　to　test　it；　Al　thought　of　making　the　blade　razor　sharp　right　then；　but　no；　no；　the　rule　was　to　use　his　knack　to　make　things　right；　not　to　cause　injury。　The　others　gathered　round　to　look　at　the　knife。　Some　of　them　mocked　the　knife's　owner；　probably　thinking　he　hadn't　kept　the　edge　sharp。　But　Al　spent　that　time　finding　all　the　other　steel　edges　that　those　Red　men　had　and　making　them　round　and　smooth。　They　couldn't've　cut　a　pea　pod　in　half　with　them　knives　when　Al　was　through。
　　Sure　enough；　all　the　others　pulled　out　their　knives　to　try　them；　running　the　edges　against　Al　or　Measure　first；　and　finally　yelling　and　shouting　and　accusing　each　other；　quarreling　over　whose　fault　it　was；　probably。
　　But　they　had　a　job　to　do；　didn't　they？　They　were　supposed　to　torture　these　White　boys　and　make　them　scream；　or　at　least　hack　them　up　bad　enough　that　when　their　folks　found　the　bodies　they'd　thirst　for　revenge。
　　So　one　of　the　Reds　took　his　old…fashioned　stone…edged　tommy…hawk　and　brandished　it　in　front　of　Al's　face；　waving　it　around　so　he'd　get　good　and　scared。　Al　used　the　time　to　soften　up　the　stone；　weaken　the　wood；　loosen　the　thongs　that　held　it　all　together。　By　the　time　the　Red　got　to　lifting　it　up　ready　to　do　some　real　business；　like　smashing　Al　in　the　face　with　it；　it　crumbled　apart　in　his　hand。　The　wood　was　rotted　clear　through；　the　stone　fell　to　the　ground　as　gravel；　and　even　the　thong　was　split　and　frayed　through。　That　Red　man　shouted　and　jumped　back　like　as　if　he　had　a　rattler　a…biting　at　him。
　　Another　one　had　a　steel…blade　hatchet；　and　he　didn't　waste　no　time　waving　it　around；　he　just　laid　out　Measure's　hand　on　a　rock　and　whacked　it　down；　meaning　to　cut　Measure's　fingers　off。　This　was　easy　stuff　to　Al；　though。　Hadn't　he　cut　whole　millstones；　when　the　need　was？　So　the　hatchet　struck　and　rang　on　the　stone；　and　Measure　gasped　at　the　sight　of　it；　sure　it'd　take　his　fingers　clean　off；　but　when　the　Red　picked　up　the　hatchet；　there　was　Measure's　hand　just　like　before；　not　marked　a　bit；　while　the　hatchet　had　finger…shaped　depressions　in　the　blade；　like　it　was　made　of　cool　butter　or　wet　cake…soap。
　　Them　Reds；　they　howled；　they　looked　at　each　other　with　fear　in　their　eyes；　fear　and　anger　at　the　strange　things　going　on。　Alvin　couldn't　know　it；　being　White；　but　the　thing　that　made　this　worst　of　all　for　them　was　they　couldn't　feel　it　like　they　felt　a　White　man's　spells　or　charms　or　doodles。　A　White　man　put　a　hex；　they　felt　it　like　a　bump　in　their　land…sense；　a　beseeching　was　a　nasty　stink；　a　warding　was　a　buzz　when　they　came　close。　But　this　that　Alvin　did；　it　didn't　interrupt　the　land　at　all；　their　sense　of　how　things　ought　to　be　didn't　show　them　nothing　different　going　on。　It　was　like　all　the　natural　laws　had　changed　on　them；　and　suddenly　steel　was　soft　and　flesh　was　hard；　rock　was　brittle　and　leather　weak　as　grass。　They　didn't　look　to　Al　or　Measure　as　the　cause　of　what　was　going　on。　It　was　some　natural　force　doing　it；　as　best　they　could　figure。
　　All　that　Alvin　saw　was　their　fear　and　anger　and　confusion；　which　pleased　him　well　enough。　He　wasn't　cocky；　though。　He　knew　there　was　some　things　he　didn't　know　how　to　handle。　Water　was　the　main　one；　if　they　took　it　in　their　heads　to　drown　the　boys；　Al　wouldn't　know　how　to　stop　them；　or　save　himself　or　Measure。　He　was　only　ten；　and　being　bound　by　rules　he　didn't　understand；　he　hadn't　figured　out　what…all　his　knack　was　good　for；　or　how　it　worked。　Maybe　there　was　things　within　his　power　that　could　be　right　spetackler；　if　he　only　knowed　how；　but　the　point　was　he　didn't　know；　and　so　he　only　did　the　things　that　were　within　his　reach。
　　This　much　was　on　his　side　　they　didn't　think　of　drowning。　But　they　thought　of　fire。　Most　likely　they　were　planning　that　from　the　start　　folks　told　tales　of　finding　torture　victim　in　the　Red　wars　back　in　New　England；　their　blackened　feet　in　the　cooling　ashes　of　a　fire；　where　they　had　to　watch　their　own　toes　char　until　the　pain　and　bleeding　and　madness　of　it　killed　them。　Alvin　saw　them　stoking　up　the　fire；　putting　hot…burning　branches　on　it　to　make　it　flare。　He　didn't　know　how　to　take　the　heat　out　of　a　fire；　he'd　never　tried。　So　he　thought　as　fast　as　he　could；　and　while　they　were　picking　Measure　up　by　his　armpits　and　dragging　him　to　the　fire；　Al　got　inside　the　firewood　and　broke　it　up；　made　it　crumble　into　dust；　so　it　burnt　up　fast；　all　at　once；　in　a　fire　so　fast　it　made　a　loud　clap　and　a　puff　of　bright　hot　light　shot　upward。　It　rose　so　fast　that　it　made　a　wind　blow　in　from　all　directions　onto　the　place　where　the　fire　had　been；　and　it　made　a　whirlwind　for　a　second　or　two；　whipping　around；　sucking　up　the　ashes　and　then　puffing　them　out　to　drift　down　like　dust。
　　Just　like　that；　nothing　left　of　the　fire　at　all　except　dust　settling　fine　as　mist　all　over　the　clearing。
　　Oh；　they　howled；　they　jumped　and　danced　and　beat　on　their　own　shoulders　and　chests。　And　while　they　were　carrying　on　like　an　Irish　funeral；　Al　loosened　the　ropes　on　him　and　Measure；　hoping　against　hope　that　they　might　even　get　away　after　all　before　their　folks　and　neighbors　found　them　and　started　in　with　shooting　and　killing　and　dying。
　　Measure　felt　the　ropes　loosening；　of　course；　and　looked　sharp　at　Alvin；　up　to　then　he'd　been　almost　as　crazy　with　what　was　happening　as　the　Reds。　Of　course；　he　knew　right　off　that　it　was　Alvin　doing　it；　but　it　wasn't　as　if　Alvin　could　explain　what　he　was　planning　　it　took　Measure　by　surprise　same　as　the　others。　Now；　though；　he　looked　at　Alvin　and　nodded；　starting　to　twist　his　arms　out　of　the　ropes。　None　of　the　Reds　had　noticed　so　far；　and　maybe　they　could　get　a　running　start；　or　maybe　　just　maybe　　the　Reds　were　so　upset　they　wouldn't　even　try　to　follow。
　　Right　then；　though；　everything　changed。　There　was　a　hooting　sound　from　the　forest；　and　then　it　got　picked　up　by　what　sounded　like　three　hundred　owls；　all　in　a　circle。　Measure　must　have　thought　for　a　second　that　Al　was　causing　that　to　happen；　too；　the　way　he　looked　at　his　little　brother　　but　the　Reds　knew　what　it　was；　and　stopped　their　carrying　on　right　away。　From　the　fear　on　their　faces；　though；　Al　figured　it　must　be　something　good；　maybe　even　something　like　rescue。
　　From；　the　forest　all　around　the　clearing　there　stepped　out　dozens；　then　a　hundred　Reds。　These　were　all　carrying　bows　　not　a　musket　among　them　　and　the　way　they　dressed　and　had　their　hair；　Al　reckoned　them　to　be　Shaw…Nee；　and　followers　of　the　Prophet。　It　was　about　the　last　thing　Al　expected；　truth　to　tell。　It　was　White　faces　he　wanted　to　see；　not　more　Red　ones。
　　One　Red　stepped　out　of　the　mass　of　the　newers；　a　tall　strong　man　with　a　face　as　hard　and　sharp　as　stone；　it　looked　like。　He　fired　off　a　couple　of　harsh…sounding　words；　and　immediately　their　captors　began　babbling；　jabbering；　pleading。　It　was　like　a　bunch　of　children；　Al　thought；　doing　something　they　knew　they　shouldn't　ought　to；　and　then　their　pa　es　along　and　catches　them　at　it。　Having　been　caught　in　such　mischief　himself　sometimes；　he　almost　felt　a　little　sympathy；　till　he　remembered　that　what　his　captors　had　had　in　mind　was　cruel　death　for　him　and　his　brother。　Just　because　they　ended　up　without　a　scratch　didn't　mean　them　Reds　weren't　guilty　of　the　bad　intent。
　　Then　one　word　stuck　out　of　all　the　yammering　　a　name：　Ta…Kumsaw。　Al　looked　at　Measure　to　see　if　he'd　heard；　and　Measure　was　looking　at　him；　raising　his　eyebrows；　asking　the　same　thing。　They　both　mouthed　the　name　at　the　same　time。　Ta…Kumsaw。
　　Did　this　mean　Ta…Kumsaw　was　in　charge　of　all　this？　Was　he　angry　at　the　captors　because　they　failed　at　the　torture；　or　because　they'd　captured　White　boys　at　all？　There　wasn't　no　explanation　from　the　Reds；　that　was　sure。　All　that　Al　could　know　for　sure　was　what　they　did。　The　newe　Reds　took　all　the　muskets　away　from　the　gun…toters；　and　then　led　them　off　into　the　woods。　Only　about　a　dozen　Reds　stayed　with　Al　and　Measure。　Among　them　was　Ta…Kumsaw。
　　〃They　say　you　have　fingers　made　of　steel；〃　said　Ta…Kumsaw。
　　Measure　looked　at　Al　for　him　to　answer；　and　Al　couldn't　think　of　anything　to　say。　He　was　sure　reluctant　about　telling　this　Red　what　it　was　he　done。　So　it　was　Measure　answered　him　after　all；　by　raising　his　hands　and　wiggling　his　fingers。　〃Just　regular　fingers　near　as　I　can　tell；〃　he　said。
　　Ta…Kumsaw　reached　out　and　took　him　by　the　hand　a　strong；　hard　grip；　it　must　have　been；　cause　Measure　tried　to　pull　away　and　couldn't。　〃Iron　skin；