The drains ended two miles short of Hollywood—which means he would be forced to cover a long and particularly hazardous3 stretch of ground in order to reach the book store. He therefore decided4 to take along the .30-caliber Savage5 rifle in addition to the small hand weapon.
You're a fool, Lewis, he told himself, as he slid the oiled Savage from its leather case. Are the books important enough to risk your life? Yes, another part of him replied, they are that important. If you want a thing badly enough and the thing is worthwhile, then you must go after it. If fear holds you like a rat in the dark, then you are worse than a coward; you betray yourself and the civilization you represent. Go out and bring the books back.
Running in the chill night wind. Grass, now pavement, now grass, beneath his feet. Ducking into shadows, moving stealthily past shops and theatres, rushing under the cold moon. Santa Monica Boulevard, then Highland6, the Hollywood Boulevard, and finally—after an eternity7 of heartbeats—the book store.
Pickwick's.
Lewis Stillman, his rifle over one shoulder, the small automatic gleaming in his hand, edged silently into the store.
A paper battleground met his eyes.
In the filtered moonlight, a white blanket of broken-backed volumes spilled across the entire lower floor. Stillman shuddered8; he could envision them, shrieking9, scrabbling at the shelves, throwing books wildly across the room at one another. Screaming, ripping, destroying.
What of the other floors? What of the medical section?
He crossed to the stairs, spilled pages crackling like a fall of dry leaves under his step, and sprinted10 up the first short flight to the mezzanine. Similar chaos11!
He hurried up to the second floor, stumbling, terribly afraid of what he might find. Reaching the top, his heart thudding, he squinted12 into the dimness.
The books were undisturbed. Apparently13 they had tired of their game before reaching these.
He slipped the rifle from his shoulder and placed it near the stairs. Dust lay thick all around him, powdering up and swirling14, as he moved down the narrow aisles15; a damp, leathery mustiness lived in the air, an odor of mold and neglect.
Lewis Stillman paused before a dim hand-lettered sign: MEDICAL SECTION. It was just as he had remembered it. Holstering the small automatic, he struck a match, shading the flame with a cupped hand as he moved it along the rows of faded titles. Carter ... Davidson ... Enright ... Erickson. He drew in his breath sharply. All three volumes, their gold stamping dust-dulled but readable, stood in tall and perfect order on the shelf.
In the darkness, Lewis Stillman carefully removed each volume, blowing it free of dust. At last all three books were clean and solid in his hands.
Well, you've done it. You've reached the books and now they belong to you.
He smiled, thinking of the moment when he would be able to sit down at the table with his treasure, and linger again and again over the wonderous pages.
He found an empty carton at the rear of the store and placed the books inside. Returning to the stairs, he shouldered the rifle and began his descent to the lower floor.
So far, he told himself, my luck is still holding.
But as Lewis Stillman's foot touched the final stair, his luck ran out.
The entire lower floor was alive with them!
Rustling16 like a mass of great insects, gliding17 toward him, eyes gleaming in the half-light, they converged18 upon the stairs. They had been waiting for him.
Now, suddenly, the books no longer mattered. Now only his life mattered and nothing else. He moved back against the hard wood of the stair-rail, the carton of books sliding from his hands. They had stopped at the foot of the stair; they were silent, looking up at him, the hate in their eyes.
If you can reach the street, Stillman told himself, then you've still got half a chance. That means you've got to get through them to the door. All right then, move.
Lewis Stillman squeezed the trigger of the automatic and three shots echoed through the silent store. Two of them fell under the bullets as Stillman rushed into their midst.
He felt sharp nails claw at his shirt and trousers, heard the cloth ripping away in their grasp. He kept firing the small automatic into them, and three more dropped under the hail of bullets, shrieking in pain and surprise. The others spilled back, screaming, from the door.
The gun was empty. He tossed it away, swinging the heavy Savage rifle free from his shoulder as he reached the street. The night air, crisp and cool in his lungs, gave him instant hope.
I can still make it, thought Stillman, as he leaped the curb19 and plunged20 across the pavement. If those shots weren't heard, then I've still got the edge. My legs are strong; I can outdistance them.
Luck, however, had failed him completely on this night. Near the intersection21 of Hollywood Boulevard and Highland, a fresh pack of them swarmed22 toward him over the street.
He dropped to one knee and fired into their ranks, the Savage jerking in his hands. They scattered23 to either side.
He began to run steadily24 down the middle of Hollywood Boulevard, using the butt25 of the heavy rifle like a battering26 ram27 as they came at him. As he neared Highland, three of them darted28 directly into his path. Stillman fired. One doubled over, lurching crazily into a jagged plate-glass store front. Another clawed at him as he swept around the corner to Highland. He managed to shake free.
The street ahead of him was clear. Now his superior leg-power would count heavily in his favor. Two miles. Could he make it back before others cut him off?
Running, re-loading, firing. Sweat soaking his shirt, rivering down his face, stinging his eyes. A mile covered. Half way to the drains. They had fallen back.
But more of them were coming, drawn29 by the rifle shots, pouring in from side streets, stores and houses.
His heart jarred in his body, his breath was ragged30. How many of them around him? A hundred? Two hundred? More coming. God!
He bit down on his lower lip until the salt taste of blood was on his tongue. You can't make it, a voice inside him shouted, they'll have you in another block and you know it!
He fitted the rifle to his shoulder, adjusted his aim, and fired. The long rolling crack of the big weapon filled the night. Again and again he fired, the butt jerking into the flesh of his shoulder, the smell of powder in his nostrils31.
It was no use. Too many of them.
Lewis Stillman knew that he was going to die.
The rifle was empty at last, the final bullet had been fired. He had no place to run because they were all around him, in a slowly closing circle.
He looked at the ring of small cruel faces and he thought: The aliens did their job perfectly32; they stopped Earth before she could reach the age of the rocket, before she could threaten planets beyond her own moon. What an immensely clever plan it had been! To destroy every human being on Earth above the age of six—and then to leave as quickly as they had come, allowing our civilization to continue on a primitive33 level, knowing that Earth's back had been broken, that her survivors34 would revert35 to savagery36 as they grew into adulthood37.
Lewis Stillman dropped the empty rifle at his feet and threw out his hands. "Listen," he pleaded, "I'm really one of you. You'll all be like me soon. Please, listen to me."
But the circle tightened38 relentlessly39 around Lewis Stillman. He was screaming when the children closed in.
The End
点击收听单词发音
1 procured | |
v.(努力)取得, (设法)获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 );拉皮条 | |
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2 arsenal | |
n.兵工厂,军械库 | |
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3 hazardous | |
adj.(有)危险的,冒险的;碰运气的 | |
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4 decided | |
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
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5 savage | |
adj.野蛮的;凶恶的,残暴的;n.未开化的人 | |
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6 highland | |
n.(pl.)高地,山地 | |
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7 eternity | |
n.不朽,来世;永恒,无穷 | |
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8 shuddered | |
v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 );发抖;(机器、车辆等)突然震动;颤动 | |
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9 shrieking | |
v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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10 sprinted | |
v.短距离疾跑( sprint的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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11 chaos | |
n.混乱,无秩序 | |
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12 squinted | |
斜视( squint的过去式和过去分词 ); 眯着眼睛; 瞟; 从小孔或缝隙里看 | |
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13 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
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14 swirling | |
v.旋转,打旋( swirl的现在分词 ) | |
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15 aisles | |
n. (席位间的)通道, 侧廊 | |
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16 rustling | |
n. 瑟瑟声,沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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17 gliding | |
v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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18 converged | |
v.(线条、运动的物体等)会于一点( converge的过去式 );(趋于)相似或相同;人或车辆汇集;聚集 | |
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19 curb | |
n.场外证券市场,场外交易;vt.制止,抑制 | |
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20 plunged | |
v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 );暴跌;骤降;突降 | |
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21 intersection | |
n.交集,十字路口,交叉点;[计算机] 交集 | |
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22 swarmed | |
密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 ); 云集; 成群地移动; 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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23 scattered | |
adj.分散的,稀疏的;散步的;疏疏落落的 | |
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24 steadily | |
adv.稳定地;不变地;持续地 | |
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25 butt | |
n.笑柄;烟蒂;枪托;臀部;v.用头撞或顶 | |
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26 battering | |
n.用坏,损坏v.连续猛击( batter的现在分词 ) | |
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27 ram | |
(random access memory)随机存取存储器 | |
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28 darted | |
v.投掷,投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 );向前冲,飞奔 | |
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29 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
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30 ragged | |
adj.衣衫褴褛的,粗糙的,刺耳的 | |
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31 nostrils | |
鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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32 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
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33 primitive | |
adj.原始的;简单的;n.原(始)人,原始事物 | |
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34 survivors | |
幸存者,残存者,生还者( survivor的名词复数 ) | |
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35 revert | |
v.恢复,复归,回到 | |
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36 savagery | |
n.野性 | |
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37 adulthood | |
n.成年,成人期 | |
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38 tightened | |
收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 ); (使)变紧; (使)绷紧; 加紧 | |
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39 relentlessly | |
adv.不屈不挠地;残酷地;不间断 | |
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