The petition was finished just before 3:00 p.m., and with Boyette's affidavit1 included, it ran for thirty pages. Boyette swore in writing that he was telling the truth, and Sammie Thomas e-mailed the petition to the Defender2 Group's office in Austin. The staff there was waiting. It was printed, copied twelve times, and handed off to Cicely Avis, who sprinted3 from the office, hopped4 in her car, and raced across town to the offices of the Texas Court of Criminal Appeals. The petition was filed at 3:35.
"What's this?" the clerk asked, holding a disc.
"It's a video of a confession5 by the real murderer," Cicely replied.
"Interesting. I assume you want the judges to see this fairly soon."
"Right now, please."
"I'll get it done."
They chatted for a second, and Cicely left the office. The clerk immediately delivered the petition to the offices of the nine judges. In the chief justice's office, he spoke6 to the law clerk and said, "You might want to watch the video first. Some guy just confessed to the murder."
"And where is this guy?" asked the clerk.
"He's in Donte Drumm's lawyer's office in Slone, according to the Defender Group lawyer."
"So Robbie Flak's found him a new witness?"
"Looks like it."
As Cicely Avis left the TCCA offices, she detoured7 two blocks and drove past the State Capitol. The "Rally for Donte" was drawing a nice crowd on the south lawn. Police were everywhere. A permit had been issued, and the First Amendment8 appeared to be working.
The crowd, almost all black, was streaming in. The permit was valid9 for three hours, from 3:00 p.m. to 6:00 p.m., the moment of execution, but it was obvious things were behind schedule--in Austin, but certainly not in Huntsville.
The governor was in a meeting, an important one, one that had nothing to do with Donte Drumm. At 3:11, the video was received by an assistant who handled the requests for reprieves11, and she watched all fourteen minutes of it before she could decide what to do next. While she found Boyette somewhat believable and chilling, she was skeptical12 because of his background and the timing13 of his sudden desire to come clean. She went to find Wayne Wallcott, the governor's lawyer and close friend, and described the video.
Wallcott listened closely, then shut the door of his office and told her to sit down. "Who has seen this video?" he asked.
"Only me," the assistant answered. "It was e-mailed from Mr. Flak's office, with a pass code. I watched it immediately and here I am."
"And it's a full confession?"
"Oh yes, with lots of details."
"And you believe this guy?"
"I didn't say that. I said he seems to know what he's talking about. He's a serial14 rapist, and he was in Slone when the girl disappeared. It's a full confession."
"Does he mention Drumm?"
"Why don't you just watch the video?"
"I didn't ask for any suggestions, did I?" Wallcott snapped. "Just answer my questions."
"Sorry." The assistant took a breath. She was suddenly nervous and uneasy. Wallcott was listening, but he was also scheming. "He mentioned Drumm only to say that he's never met him and he had nothing to do with the crime."
"He's obviously lying. I'm not bothering the governor with this, and I want you to keep the video to yourself. I don't have the time to look at it. Neither does the governor. You understand?"
She did not, but she nodded anyway.
Wallcott narrowed his eyes and frowned. "You do understand, don't you?" he asked gravely. "This video stays in your computer."
"Yes, sir."
As soon as she left, Wallcott practically jogged to the office of Barry Ringfield, the governor's chief spokesman and closest friend. The office suite15 was crawling with staff and interns16, so they took a stroll down the hall.
After a few minutes of discussing their options, they agreed that the governor would not see the video. If Boyette was lying, then the video would be irrelevant17 and the right man was executed. But if Boyette was telling the truth, which they strongly doubted, and the wrong man was executed, the fallout could be messy. The only way to protect Governor Gill Newton was for one of them, or perhaps the assistant, to take the fall by admitting they sat on, or maybe even lost, the video. Gill Newton had never granted a reprieve10 in a death case, and with the thrilling attention being stirred up by the Drumm case, he was not about to back down now. Even if he watched the video, and even if he believed Boyette, he would not retreat.
Wayne and Barry walked to the governor's office. They were expected there promptly18 at 4:00 p.m., two hours before the execution, and they would not tell the governor about the video.
At 3:30 p.m., the Flak Law Firm gathered once again around the main conference table. All were present and accounted for, including Keith, who, though fighting the worst fatigue19 of his life, was finding it hard to believe he had somehow acquired a ticket to this circus. He and Judge Henry sat away from the table, against a wall. Aaron Rey and Fred Pryor read newspapers on the other side of the room. Travis Boyette was still alive, still resting in the dark on Robbie's sofa.
It was past time for Robbie to leave for Huntsville, and the strain was showing. But he couldn't leave yet. The Boyette petition had energized20 the team and given them hope.
Robbie worked from a checklist. Yellow legal pad, as always. Sammie Thomas and Bonnie would track the Boyette petition before the court of appeals, and also continue to press the governor's office on the reprieve. Gill Newton had yet to grant or deny, and he usually waited until the last moment. He loved the drama and attention. Carlos would track the insanity21 petition, which was still with the Fifth Circuit in New Orleans. If denied there, they would appeal to the U.S. Supreme22 Court. Fred Pryor would remain at the office and tend to Boyette. No one knew what to do with Boyette, but he didn't appear to be leaving. As always, Aaron Rey would accompany Robbie to Huntsville. Martha Handler would also go, to observe and record. Robbie barked orders, answered questions, refereed23 conflicts, and then suddenly looked at the reverend and asked, "Keith, can you go with us to Huntsville?"
For a few seconds, the reverend couldn't speak. "Why, Robbie?" he managed to ask.
"Donte might need you."
Keith's mouth fell open and no words came out. The room was quiet, all eyes on Keith. Robbie pressed on: "He was raised in a church, Keith, but he now takes a dim view of religion. His jury had five Baptists, two Pentecostals, one Church of Christ, and I guess the others were lost. Over the past few years, he's come to believe that white Christians24 are the reason he's on death row. He wants no part of their God, and I don't expect him to change his views anytime soon. Still, at the very end, he might appreciate someone to pray with."
What Keith wanted was a nice bed in a clean motel and twelve hours of sleep. But, as a man of God, he couldn't say no. He nodded slowly and said, "Sure."
"Good. We'll leave in five minutes."
Keith closed his eyes and rubbed his temples and said to himself, "Lord, what am I doing here? Help me."
Fred Pryor suddenly jumped from his chair. He held his cell phone at arm's length, as if it were white-hot, and said loudly, "Oh, boy! It's Joey Gamble. He wants to sign the affidavit and recant his testimony25."
"Is he on the phone?" Robbie said.
"No. It's a text message. Should I call him?"
"Of course!" Robbie snapped. Pryor stepped to the center of the table and pressed the keys on the speakerphone. No one moved as the phone rang and rang. Finally, a timid "Hello."
"Joey, Fred Pryor here, in Slone, just got your message, what the hell's going on?"
"Uh, I wanna help, Mr. Pryor. I'm really upset by all this."
"You think you're upset, what about Donte? He's got two and a half hours to live, and now you finally wake up and want to help."
"I'm so confused," Joey said.
Robbie leaned forward and took charge. "Joey, this is Robbie Flak. Remember?"
"Of course."
"Where are you?"
"Mission Bend, in my apartment."
"Are you willing to sign an affidavit admitting that you lied at Donte's trial?"
With no hesitation26, Joey said, "Yes."
Robbie closed his eyes and dropped his head. Around the table, there were silent fist pumps, quick prayers of thanks, and a lot of tired smiles.
"All right, here's the plan. There's a lawyer in Houston by the name of Agnes Tanner. Her office is downtown on Clay Street. Do you know the city?"
"I guess."
"Can you find an office downtown?"
"I don't know. I'm not sure I should drive."
"Are you drunk?"
"Not drunk, but I've been drinking." Robbie instinctively27 glanced at his watch. Not yet 4:00 p.m. and the boy was already thick tongued.
"Joey, call a cab. I'll reimburse28 you later. It's crucial that you get to Tanner's office as quickly as possible. We'll e-mail an affidavit, you sign it, and we'll get it filed in Austin. Can you do this, Joey?"
"I'll try."
"It's the least you can do, Joey. Right now Donte is in the holding cell in Huntsville, thirty feet from the little room where they kill people, and your lies helped put him there."
"I'm so sorry." His voice cracked.
"The office is at 118 Clay Street, you got that, Joey?"
"I think so."
"Get there, Joey. The paperwork will be waiting for you. Every minute is crucial, Joey, do you understand?"
"Okay, okay."
"Call us back in ten minutes."
"You got it."
After the call ended, Robbie barked orders and everyone scrambled29. As he headed for the door, he said, "Let's go, Keith." They jumped in the van, with Martha Handler racing30 to keep up with them, and Aaron Rey sped away. Robbie called Agnes Tanner in Houston and urgently confirmed the details.
Keith leaned forward and looked at Aaron in the rearview mirror. "Someone said it's a three-hour drive to Huntsville."
"It is," Aaron replied. "But we're not driving."
The Slone Municipal Airport was two miles east of town. It had one runway, west to east, four small hangars, the usual collection of old Cessnas in a row on the deck, and a square metal building for the terminal. They parked, ran through the tiny lobby area, nodded at a deckhand behind the desk, and stepped onto the tarmac, where a shiny twin-engine King Air was waiting. It was owned by a wealthy lawyer friend of Robbie's who was an avid31 pilot. He got them on board, locked the door, made them fasten their seat belts, then strapped32 himself in and began flipping33 switches.
Keith had not talked to his wife in several hours, and things were happening so fast he wasn't sure where to begin. Dana answered during the first beep, as if she'd been staring at her cell phone. The engines started, and the cabin was suddenly loud and shaking. "Where are you?" she asked.
"In an airplane, leaving Slone, flying to Huntsville to meet Donte Drumm."
"I can barely hear you. Whose airplane?"
"A friend of Robbie Flak's. Look, Dana, I can't hear you either. I'll call you when we land in Huntsville."
"Please be careful, Keith."
"Love you."
Keith was facing the front of the plane, his knees almost touching34 Martha Handler's. He watched the pilot run through the checklist as they taxied away to the runway. Robbie, Martha, and Aaron were all on the phone, and Keith wondered how they could carry on a conversation amid the racket. At the end of the runway, the King Air did a 180 and pointed35 west. The pilot revved36 the engines, the plane shook harder and harder as if it might explode, then the pilot yelled, "Hold on," and released the brakes. They jerked forward, and all four passengers closed their eyes. Within seconds, they were in the air. The landing gear folded with a thud, but Keith had no idea what he was hearing. In the blur37 of the moment, he realized that he had never before flown in a small airplane.
Nor had he ever been to Texas, chauffeured38 a serial rapist and murderer, listened to his chilling confession, witnessed the chaos39 of a law firm trying to save an innocent man, gone four days with virtually no sleep, picked up a speeding ticket in Oklahoma, or said yes to an invitation to pray with a man minutes before his death.
They flew over Slone at two thousand feet and climbing. The old cotton gin was still burning, thick smoke boiling into a cloud.
Keith closed his eyes again and tried to convince himself that he was where he was and doing what he was doing. He was not convinced. He prayed and asked God to take his hand and guide him now, because he had no idea what to do. He thanked God for this rather unusual situation and acknowledged that only divine intervention40 could be responsible for it. At five thousand feet, his chin hit his chest, the fatigue finally taking its toll41.
The bourbon was usually Knob Creek42, but on special occasions the really fine stuff was pulled out of the drawer. A shot each of Pappy Van Winkle's, and all three smacked43 their lips. They were starting a bit early, but the governor said he needed a stiff one. Barry and Wayne had never said no. They had their coats off, sleeves rolled up, ties loosened, busy men with a lot on their minds. They stood near a credenza in a corner, sipping44, watching the rally on a small television. If they had opened a window, they could have heard the noise. One long-winded speaker after another delivered scathing46 attacks on the death penalty, racism47, and the Texas judicial48 system. The term "judicial lynching" was used freely. So far, every speaker had demanded that the governor stop the execution. Capitol security estimated the crowd at ten thousand.
Behind the governor's back, Barry and Wayne exchanged nervous glances. If the crowd could see the video, a riot would break out. Should they tell him? No, maybe later.
"Gill, we need to make a decision about the National Guard," Barry said.
"What's happening in Slone?"
"As of thirty minutes ago, they've burned two churches, one white and one black. Now an abandoned building is on fire. They canceled classes this morning at the high school after fights broke out. The blacks are marching and roaming the streets, looking for trouble. One brick was thrown through the rear window of a police car, but so far there's been no other violence. The mayor is scared and thinks the town could blow up after the execution."
"Who's available?"
"The unit in Tyler is getting ready and can be deployed49 within an hour. Six hundred guardsmen. That should be enough."
"Do it and issue a press release."
Barry darted50 from the office. Wayne took another sip45 and with hesitation said, "Gill, should we at least have the conversation about a thirty-day stay? Let things cool off a bit."
"Hell no. We can't back down just because the blacks are upset. If we show weakness now, then they'll get louder next time. If we wait thirty days, then they'll just start this crap again. I'm not blinking. You know me better than that."
"Okay, okay. Just wanted to mention it."
"Don't mention it again."
"You got it."
"Here he is," the governor said and took a step closer to the television.
The crowd roared as the Reverend Jeremiah Mays took the podium. Mays was currently the loudest black radical51 roaming the country and was quite adept52 at somehow wedging himself into every conflict or episode where race was an issue. He raised his hands, called for quiet, and launched into a flowery prayer in which he beseeched the Almighty53 to look down upon the poor misguided souls running the State of Texas, to open their eyes, to grant them wisdom, to touch their hearts so that this grave injustice54 could be stopped. He asked for the hand of God, for a miracle, for the rescue of their brother Donte Drumm.
When Barry returned, he refilled the shot glasses, his hands visibly shaking. The governor said, "Enough of this nonsense," and hit the mute button. "Gentlemen," he said, "I want to watch it one more time." They had watched "it" together several times, and with each viewing all lingering doubts were erased55. They walked to the other side of the office, to another television, and Barry picked up the remote.
Donte Drumm, December 23, 1998. He was facing the camera, a can of Coke and an uneaten doughnut on the table in front of him. No one else could be seen. He was subdued56, tired, and frightened. He spoke slowly, in a monotone, his eyes never looking directly into the camera.
Off camera, Detective Drew Kerber said, "You've been read your Miranda rights, correct?"
"Yes."
"And you're giving this statement of your own free will, no threats, no promises of any kind, right?"
"That's right."
"Okay, tell us what happened on Friday night, December 4, nineteen days ago."
Donte leaned forward on his elbows and looked as though he might pass out. He picked a spot on the table, stared at it, spoke to it. "Well, me and Nicole had been sneaking57 around, having sex, having a good time."
"How long had this been going on?"
"Three or four months. I liked her, she liked me, things were getting serious, and she got scared because she was afraid people would find out. We started to fight some, she wanted to break it off, I didn't want to. I think I was in love with her. Then she wouldn't see me anymore, and this drove me crazy. All I could think about was her, she was so fine. I wanted her more than anything in the world. I was obsessed58. I was crazy, couldn't stand to think that somebody else might have her. So that Friday night, I went looking for her. I knew where she liked to hang out. I saw her car at the mall, over on the east side of the mall."
"Excuse me, Donte, but I believe you said earlier that her car was parked on the west side of the mall."
"That's right, the west side. So I waited and waited."
"And you were driving a green Ford59 van, owned by your parents?"
"That's right. And I guess it was around ten o'clock Friday night, and--"
Kerber said, "Excuse me, Donte, but you said earlier that it was closer to eleven."
"That's right, eleven."
"Go ahead, you were in the green van, looking for Nicole, and you saw her car."
"That's right, I was really wanting to see her, and so we were driving around, looking for her car, and--"
"Excuse me, Donte, but you said 'we' were driving around, you said earlier--"
"Yeah, me and Torrey Pickett were--"
"But you said earlier that you were alone, that you had dropped Torrey off at his mother's house."
"That's right, sorry about that. At his mother's house, right. And so I was by myself at the mall and I saw her car and I parked and waited. When she came out, she was alone. We talked for a minute, and she agreed to get in the van. We used the van a few times on dates, when we were sneaking around. And so I drove and we talked. We both got upset. She was determined60 to break up, and I was determined to stay together. We talked about running away together, to get out of Texas, go to California, where nobody would bother us, you know. But she wouldn't listen to me. She started crying, and that made me start crying. We parked behind Shiloh Church, out on Travis Road, one of our places, and I said I wanted to have sex one last time. At first, she seemed okay with it, and we started making out. Then she pulled away, said stop it, said no, said she wanted to get back because her friends would be looking for her, but I couldn't stop. She started pushing me away, and I got mad, real mad, just all of a sudden I hated her because she was pushing me away, because I couldn't have her. If I was white, then I could have her, but because I'm not, then I'm not good enough, you know. We started fighting, and at some point she realized that I was not going to stop. She didn't resist, but she didn't give in either. When it was over, she got mad, real mad. She slapped me and said I'd raped61 her. And then, something just happened, I snapped or something, I don't know, but I just went crazy. She was still under me, and I, uh, well ... I hit her, and I hit her again, and I couldn't believe I was hitting that beautiful face, but if I couldn't have her, then nobody else could either. I just went into a rage, like some kinda wild man, and before I realized what I was doing, my hands were around her neck. I just shook her and shook her, and then she was still. Everything was very still. When I came to my senses, I just looked at her, and at some point I realized she wasn't breathing. [Donte took the first sip and only sip from the Coke can.] I started driving around; I had no idea where to go. I kept waiting for her to wake up, but she didn't. I'd call back there, but she wouldn't answer. I guess I panicked. I didn't know what time it was. I drove north, and when I realized the sun was coming up, I panicked again. I saw a sign for the Red River. I was on Route 344, and--"
"Excuse me, Donte, but you said earlier it was Route 244."
"That's right: 244. I drove onto the bridge, it was still dark, no other car lights anywhere, not a sound, and I got her out of the back of the van and tossed her into the river. When I heard her splash, it made me sick. I remember crying all the way back home."
The governor stepped forward and punched the off button. "Boys, that's all I need to see. Let's go." All three straightened their ties, buttoned their cuffs62, put on their jackets, and walked out of the office. In the hallway, they were met with a security detail, one beefed up for the occasion. They took the stairs down to the street level and walked quickly to the Capitol. They waited, unseen by the crowd, until the Reverend Jeremiah Mays finished his incendiary remarks. The crowd roared when he signed off, vowing63 revenge. When their governor suddenly appeared at the podium, the mood changed remarkably64. For a moment, those present were confused, but when they heard the words "I'm Gill Newton, governor of the great state of Texas," they drowned him out in an avalanche65 of boos.
He yelled back, "Thank you for coming here and expressing your First Amendment right to assemble. God bless America." Even louder boos. "Our country is great because we love democracy, the greatest system in the world." Loud boos for democracy. "You've assembled here today because you believe Donte Drumm is innocent. Well, I'm here to tell you he is not. He was convicted in a fair trial. He had a good lawyer. He confessed to the crime." The boos and whistles and angry shouts were now continuous, and Newton was forced to yell into the microphone. "His case has been reviewed by dozens of judges, sitting on five different courts, state and federal, and every ruling against him has been unanimous."
When the roar became too loud to continue, Newton stood and smirked66 at the crowd, a man with power facing those with none. He nodded, acknowledging their hatred67 of him. When the noise subsided68 slightly, he leaned closer to the microphone and, with as much drama as he could muster69 and knowing full well that what he was about to say would play on every evening and late newscast in Texas, said, "I refuse to grant a reprieve to Donte Drumm. He is a monster. He is a guilty man!"
The crowd roared again and pressed forward. The governor waved and saluted70 for the cameras and stepped away. He was swarmed71 by his security team and whisked away to safety. Barry and Wayne followed, neither able to suppress a smile. Their man had just pulled off another beautiful stunt72, one that would no doubt win every election from then on.
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affidavit
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| n.宣誓书 | |
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defender
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| n.保卫者，拥护者，辩护人 | |
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sprinted
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| v.短距离疾跑( sprint的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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hopped
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| 跳上[下]( hop的过去式和过去分词 )； 单足蹦跳； 齐足（或双足）跳行； 摘葎草花 | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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detoured
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| 绕道( detour的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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amendment
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| n.改正，修正，改善，修正案 | |
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valid
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| adj.有确实根据的；有效的；正当的，合法的 | |
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reprieve
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| n.暂缓执行（死刑）；v.缓期执行；给…带来缓解 | |
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reprieves
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| n.（死刑）缓期执行令( reprieve的名词复数 )；暂缓，暂止v.缓期执行（死刑）( reprieve的第三人称单数 ) | |
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skeptical
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| adj.怀疑的，多疑的 | |
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timing
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| n.时间安排，时间选择 | |
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serial
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| n.连本影片，连本电视节目；adj.连续的 | |
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suite
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| n.一套(家具)；套房；随从人员 | |
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interns
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| n.住院实习医生( intern的名词复数 )v.拘留，关押( intern的第三人称单数 ) | |
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irrelevant
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| adj.不恰当的，无关系的，不相干的 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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energized
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| v.给予…精力，能量( energize的过去式和过去分词 )；使通电 | |
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insanity
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| n.疯狂，精神错乱；极端的愚蠢，荒唐 | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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refereed
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| vi.担任裁判（referee的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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Christians
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| n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
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testimony
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| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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instinctively
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reimburse
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| v.补偿，付还 | |
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scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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avid
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| adj.热心的；贪婪的；渴望的；劲头十足的 | |
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strapped
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| adj.用皮带捆住的，用皮带装饰的；身无分文的；缺钱；手头紧v.用皮带捆扎(strap的过去式和过去分词)；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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flipping
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| 讨厌之极的 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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revved
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| v.（使）加速( rev的过去式和过去分词 )；（数量、活动等）激增；（使发动机）快速旋转；（使）活跃起来 | |
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blur
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| n.模糊不清的事物；vt.使模糊，使看不清楚 | |
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chauffeured
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| v.受雇于人的汽车司机( chauffeur的过去式 ) | |
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chaos
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| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
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intervention
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| n.介入，干涉，干预 | |
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toll
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| n.过路(桥)费；损失，伤亡人数；v.敲(钟) | |
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creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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smacked
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| 拍，打，掴( smack的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sipping
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的现在分词 ) | |
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sip
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| v.小口地喝，抿，呷；n.一小口的量 | |
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scathing
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| adj.（言词、文章）严厉的，尖刻的；不留情的adv.严厉地，尖刻地v.伤害，损害（尤指使之枯萎）( scathe的现在分词) | |
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racism
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| n.民族主义；种族歧视(意识) | |
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judicial
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| adj.司法的，法庭的，审判的，明断的，公正的 | |
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deployed
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| （尤指军事行动）使展开( deploy的过去式和过去分词 )； 施展； 部署； 有效地利用 | |
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darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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radical
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| n.激进份子，原子团，根号；adj.根本的，激进的，彻底的 | |
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adept
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| adj.老练的，精通的 | |
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almighty
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| adj.全能的，万能的；很大的，很强的 | |
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injustice
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| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
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erased
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| v.擦掉( erase的过去式和过去分词 )；抹去；清除 | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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sneaking
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| a.秘密的，不公开的 | |
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obsessed
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| adj.心神不宁的,鬼迷心窍的,沉迷的 | |
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Ford
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| n.浅滩，水浅可涉处；v.涉水，涉过 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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raped
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| v.以暴力夺取，强夺( rape的过去式和过去分词 )；强奸 | |
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cuffs
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| n.袖口( cuff的名词复数 )v.掌打，拳打( cuff的第三人称单数 ) | |
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vowing
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| 起誓，发誓（vow的现在分词形式） | |
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remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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avalanche
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| n.雪崩，大量涌来 | |
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smirked
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| v.傻笑( smirk的过去分词 ) | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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muster
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| v.集合，收集，鼓起，激起；n.集合，检阅，集合人员，点名册 | |
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saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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swarmed
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| 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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stunt
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| n.惊人表演，绝技，特技；vt.阻碍...发育，妨碍...生长 | |
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