pzb.lostsouls-第79部分

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ou　might　as　well　carry　her　bloody　corpse　back　to　Missing　Mile　slung　over　your　shoulders。
　　Steve's　hands　tightened　convulsively　around　the　haft　of　the　knife。　The　sharp　facets　of　the　jewels　cut　into　his　palms。　Zillah　was　somewhere　in　this　room；　he　knew　that。　And　Zillah　would　be　next。
　　Then　the　demon　was　pulling　his　arms　down；　and　Steve　screamed　his　exultant　rage　as　the　blade　cracked　the　vampire's　breastbone　and　sank　into　his　soft　dark　heart。
　　
　　Nothing　struggled　to　wake　up。　Something　was　wrong。　His　body　felt　sheathed　in　dry　sweat；　and　he　could　not　force　his　eyelids　open。
　　He　had　been　so　sick　from　Wallace's　blood。　They　all　had。　The　smell　of　vomit　was　still　strong　in　the　room；　vomit　and　Chartreuse　and　beer　。　。　。
　　No　one　had　drunk　beer　tonight。　That　much　he　was　certain　of。　Nothing　managed　to　open　his　eyes。
　　He　had　just　enough　time　to　see　Steve　standing　over　the　bed；　his　face　terrified　but　crazily　exultant；　his　arms　raised　high　above　his　head…and　then　Nothing　saw　the　blade　plunge　down　into　Christian's　body　beside　him。　Christian's　black　blood　arced　up　from　his　chest；　splattering　the　moonlight；　soaking　into　the　carpet　to　mingle　with　the　faded　blood　of　Jessy。
　　
　　The　impact　brought　Christian　up　from　sleep。
　　For　a　moment　there　was　pain；　deep　and　cold。　But　pared　with　the　sickness　he　had　felt　earlier；　the　pain　was　not　very　bad。　It　was　like　being　adrift　on　a　river；　one　that　smelled　of　mud　and　bones　like　the　Mississippi；　but　this　river　was　green。　Its　gentle　luminescence　bathed　him　and　soaked　through　him。　At　last　he　was　drunk。　The　river　made　him　drunk；　and　his　mind　grew　dim　and　began　to　rest。
　　Heartblood　welled　up　in　his　mouth；　and　he　licked　it　from　his　lips。　The　taste　was　sweet；　dark；　familiar；　and　it　would　stay　with　him　forever；　it　was　the　essence　of　him。　Through　the　bright　film　that　washed　over　his　eyes；　he　saw　a　face　above　him：　translucent　hair　hanging　like　a　waterfall；　pale　eyes　wide　and　stricken。
　　As　Christian　sank　beneath　the　green　waters　of　his　death；　he　thought；　Three　hundred　and　eighty…three　years。　And　he　was　as　beautiful　as　he　should　have　been。　He　was　lovely。
　　
　　There　were　too　many　words　in　Ghost's　mouth；　ready　to　spill　into　the　silence　of　the　room。　Murderer；　he　wanted　to　say；　my　best　friend；　my　only　brother。　I　once　saw　you　run　your　ear　off　the　road　to　keep　from　hitting　a　stray　dog。　How　could　you　stab　someone　through　the　heart？　How　could　you　bear　it　as　you　looked　into　his　eyes？
　　But　in　the　end　he　didn't　say　any　of　those　words；　because　the　silence　erupted　around　them。　
　　Ghost　had　e　up　beside　the　bed。　He　was　standing　a　little　behind　Steve；　and　he　never　saw　Zillah　ing。　Steve　must　have　seen　him；　because　he　stepped　backward。
　　There　was　only　a　heart…stopping　blur　of　motion　launching　itself　out　of　the　darkness。　Then　the　razor　flashed；　and　every　speck　of　light　in　the　room　seemed　to　coalesce　along　its　deadly　edge。　Wetness　hit　Ghost's　face；　hot　and　stinging。　The　taste　was　in　his　mouth；　in　his　throat。　Blood。　Steve's　blood；　spraying。
　　Zillah　had　Steve　around　the　chest；　forcing　him　down。　Steve　bucked　and　clawed　at　him。　But　Zillah's　free　hand　had　the　razor；　and　now　it　was　swinging　down；　toward　Steve's　throat。
　　The　knife　still　protruded　from　Christian's　chest；　jewels　glittering　dully　in　the　faint　light。　Ghost　reached　out　and　pulled　it　free。　Christian's　heart　made　a　faint　sucking　sound　as　the　blade　came　away。　Blood　seeped　from　the　wound。
　　Ghost　felt　that　he　moved　in　slow　motion：　the　razor　was　still　swinging　down。　He　took　two　steps　forward。　Easily；　he　slid　his　left　arm　around　Zillah's　neck　effortlessly　he　pulled　Zillah's　chin　up　and　back。
　　Then　he　drove　the　knife　straight　into　Zillah's　temple；　and　that　was　the　hardest　thing　he　had　ever　done。
　　
　　Nothing　saw　it　all。　He　was　still　on　the　bed；　half…propped　on　his　elbows；　naked　except　for　the　vomit…stained　sheet　that　covered　him。　He　saw　Steve　bring　the　knife　down　into　Christian's　chest；　and　he　had　not　even　had　time　to　react　to　that　when　Zillah　flew　like　a　demented　bat　out　of　the　corner　and　whipped　his　razor　across　Steve's　upraised　forearms。
　　Then　the　most　extraordinary　thing　of　all　happened：　Ghost　took　the　knife；　stepped　forward；　and　lifted　Zillah　straight　off　the　floor。　He　only　had　one　arm　around　Zillah's　neck；　but　Nothing　saw　Zillah's　feet　dangling　an　inch　above　the　floorboards。　Ghost　hoisted　Zillah　around　so　that　he　was　facing　the　bed。
　　And　Zillah's　eyes　met　Nothing's　as　the　knife　went　in。　
　　There　was　no　love　in　them；　no　sorrow。　Only　pain　and　blame　and　blind　rage。　This　was　not　the　way　Zillah　had　planned　it。　Through　all　the　stupid　risks　he　took　he　had　never　considered　the　possibility　of　his　own　death。　This　is　your　fault；　those　eyes　told　Nothing。　You　brought　me　to　this；　and　this　should　be　happening　to　you。
　　Then　the　green　light　blazed　once　and　went　out。　Zillah's　eyes　were　as　dead　as　a　blown　light　bulb。　But　their　message　had　burned　itself　into　Nothing；　had　hardened　him　faster　and　better　than　anything　else　could。
　　Zillah's　feet　kicked　and　shuffled　an　inch　above　the　floor。　Blood　began　to　seep　around　the　handle　of　the　knife；　then　from…his　nostrils　and　the　corners　of　his　eyes。　His　mouth　fell　open；　and　a　fountain　of　blood　tumbled　down　his　chin；　washed　over　Ghost's　arm　and　hand。　That　seemed　to　wake　Ghost。　The　strain　of　Zillah's　weight　hit　him；　and　he　let　the　body　fall。　He　stared　unbelievingly　at　his　hands。
　　〃Steve？〃　he　said　in　a　small　voice。　〃What。。。？〃
　　Steve　was　slumped　against　the　bed。　He　had　taken　off　his　shirt　and　was　pressing　it　between　his　arms；　trying　to　stop　the　bleeding　from　his　slashed　wrists。　Tiredly；　he　looked　up　at　Ghost。
　　〃I　owe　you　another　one；〃　he　said。
　　
　　Nothing　glanced　around　the　room。　Where　were　Molochai　and　Twig？　He　saw　them　huddled　against　the　far　wall；　heard　them　puking　more　violently　than　ever。　He　didn't　know　if　they　had　seen　Zillah　die。　Right　now　they　sounded　as　if　they　were　beyond　caring。
　　He　looked　at　Ghost。　Ghost　stared　back。　His　eyes　were　clear　and　very　pale。
　　〃I　could　kill　you；　you　know；〃　Nothing　heard　himself　say。　〃I　could　make　them　get　up　and　kill　you。〃
　　Ghost　didn't　move。　〃I　know　you　could。〃　
　　〃I　could　make　them　kill　both　of　you。〃　
　　〃It'll　be　me　first；　then；〃　said　Ghost。
　　Nothing　looked　at　Zillah's　body　sprawled　on　the　floor。　Rivulets　of　blood　crawled　along　the　cracks　between　the　floorboards　where　Zillah's　head　had　fallen。　He　thought　of　never　feeling　those　strong　veined　hands　on　him　again；　of　never　kissing　that　lush　mouth。　
　　He　thought　of　never　again　having　anyone　tell　him　what　to　do。
　　〃Take　that　thing　out　of　him；〃　he　said。
　　Ghost　knelt　and　pulled　the　knife　out　of　Zillah's　skull。　He　had　to　wiggle　the　blade　free；　but　Nothing　didn't　look　away。　The　knife　left　a　clean　narrow　wound　in　Zillah's　temple。　A　pale；　slightly　cloudy　fluid　began　to　trickle　from　it。
　　〃Now　get　out；〃　said　Nothing。
　　Steve　and　Ghost　only　stared　at　him。
　　〃Now。　If　they　get　up；　I'll　let　them　kill　you。　They　loved　Zillah　too。〃　Nothing　wasn't　sure　if　he　meant　this。　Could　he　really　watch　Steve　and　Ghost　die；　even　now？　He　thought　of　the　cold　message　he　had　seen　in　Zillah's　eyes　and　wondered　whether　he　would　ever　have　known　the　truth　if　Zillah　had　lived。
　　Still；　his　father　had　loved　him　in　his　way。　In　the　way　of　decadence　and　self…gratification。　But　even　that　was　worth　something。　Nothing　was　amazed　at　how　calm　he　felt。　He　never　knew　his　face　was　wet　with　tears。
　　Life　was　his　now。　When　he　was　on　the　road　he　would　want　to　think　about　Steve　and　Ghost；　to　know　they　were　alive　somewhere。　He　hadn't　wanted　Ann's　baby　to　die　either；　not　really。　It　would　have　been　his　brother　or　his　sister。　He　would　have　taken　care　of　it。　He　would　have　held　it　on　his　knees　so　it　could　look　out　the　windows　of　the　van　and　dabbed　wine　and　blood　on　its　soft　little　gums。
　　He　knew　Ann　must　be　dead。　Why　else　would　Steve　have　e　on　this　murdering　rampage？　But　if　he　never　asked；　he　would　be　able　to　pretend　the　baby　was　alive　somewhere；　growing　up　without　its　family　just　as　he　had　done。　Maybe　someday　they'd　be　driving　along　some　country　road　and　suddenly　there　would　be　Zillah's　child；　Nothing's　brother　or　sister；　sticking　out　a　hopeful　thumb。
　　Maybe。
　　〃Go　on；〃　he　told　G