MORNING. A SUN BRIGHT hush1 broken only by the chorus of birds in the trees. No breeze to stir the vivid blossoms around the houses, the bushes, the dark-leaved hedges. A cloud of silent heat was suspended over everything on Cimarron Street.
Virginia Neville's heart had stopped.
He sat beside her on the bed, looking down at her white face. He held her fingers in his hand, his fingertips stroking and stroking. His body was immobile, one rigid2, insensible block of flesh and bone. His eyes did not blink, his mouth was a static line, and the movement of his breathing was so slight that it seemed to have stopped altogether.
Something had happened to his brain.
In the second he had felt no heartbeat beneath his trembling fingers, the core of his brain seemed to have petrified3, sending out jagged lines of calcification4 until his head felt like stone. Slowly, on palsied legs, he had sunk down on the bed. And now, vaguely5, deep in the struggling tissues of thought, he did not understand how he could sit there, did not understand why despair did not crush him to the earth. But prostration6 would not come. Time was caught on hooks and could not progress. Everything stood fixed7. With Virginia, life and the world had shuddered8 to a halt.
Thirty minutes passed; forty.
Then, slowly, as though he were discovering some objective phenomenon, he found his body trembling. Not with a localized tremble, a nerve here, a muscle there. This was complete. His body shuddered without end, one mass entire of nerves without control, bereft9 of will. And what operative mind was left knew that this was his reaction.
For more than an hour he sat in this palsied state, his eyes fastened dumbly to her face.
Then, abruptly10, it ended, and with a choked muttering in his throat he lurched up from the bed and left the room.
Half the whisky splashed on the sink top as he poured. The liquor that managed to reach the glass he bolted down in a swallow. The thin current flared11 its way down to his stomach, feeling twice as intense in the polar numbness12 of his flesh. He stood sagged13 against the sink. Hands shaking, he filled the glass again to its top and gulped14 the burning whisky down with great convulsive swallows.
It's a dream, he argued vainly. It was as if a voice spoke15 the words aloud in his head.
"Virginia..."
He kept turning from one side to another, his eyes searching around the room as if there were something to be found, as if he had mislaid the exit from this house of horror. Tiny sounds of disbelief pulsed in his throat. He pressed his hands together, forcing the shaking palms against each other, the twitching17 fingers intertwining confusedly.
His hands began to shake so he couldn't make out their forms. With a gagging intake18 of breath he jerked them apart and pressed them against his legs.
"Virginia."
He took a step and cried aloud as the room flung itself off balance. Pain exploded in his right knee, sending hot barbs19 up his leg. He whined20 as he pushed himself up and stumbled to the living room. He stood there like a statue in an earthquake, his marble eyes frozen on the bedroom door.
In his mind he saw a scene enacted21 once again.
The great fire crackling, roaring yellow, sending its dense23 and grease-thick clouds into the sky. Kathy's tiny body in his arms. The man coming up and snatching her away as if he were taking a bundle of rags. The man lunging into the dark mist carrying his baby. Him standing24 there while pile driver blows of horror drove him down with their impact.
Then suddenly he had darted25 forward with a berserk scream.
"Kathy!"
The arms caught him, the men in canvas and masks drawing him back. His shoes gouged26 frenziedly at the earth, digging two ragged28 trenches29 in the earth as they dragged him away. His brain exploded, the terrified screams flooding from him.
Then the sudden bolt of numbing31 pain in his jaw32, the daylight swept over with clouds of night. The hot trickle33 of liquor down his throat, the coughing, a gasping34, and then he had been sitting silent and rigid in Ben Cortman's car, staring as they drove away at the gigantic pail of smoke that rose above the earth like a black wraith36 of all earth's despair.
Remembering, he closed his eyes suddenly and his teeth pressed together until they ached.
"No."
He wouldn't put Virginia there. Not if they killed him for it.
With a slow, stiff motion he walked to the front door and went out on the porch. Stepping off onto the yellowing lawn, he started down the block for Ben Cortman's house. The glare of the sun made his pupils shrink to points of jet. His hands swung useless and numbed37 at his sides.
The chimes still played "How Dry I Am." The absurdity38 of it made him want to break something in his hands. He remembered when Ben had put them in, thinking how funny it would be.
He stood rigidly39 before the door, his mind still pulsing. I don't care if it's the law, I don't care if refusal means death, I won't put her there!
His fist thudded on the door.
"Ben!"
Silence in the house of Ben Cortman. White curtains hung motionless in the front windows. He could see the red couch, the floor lamp with the fringed shade, the upright Knabe Freda used to toy with on Sunday afternoons.
He blinked. What day was it? He had forgotten, he had lost track of the days.
He twisted his shoulders as impatient fury hosed acids through his veins40.
"Ben!"
Again the side of his hard fist pummeled the door, and the flesh along his whitening jaw line twitched41. Damn him, where was he? Neville jammed in the button with a brittle42 finger and the chimes started the tippler's song over and over and over. "How dry I am, how dry I am, how dry I am, how dry I.
With a frenzied27 gasp35 he lurched against the door and it flew open against the inside wall. It had been unlocked.
He walked into the silent living room.
"Ben," he said loudly. "Ben, I need your car."
They were in the bedroom, silent and still in their daytime comas43, lying apart on the twin beds, Ben in pajamas44, Freda in silk nightgown; lying on the sheets, their thick chests faltering45 with labored46 breaths.
He stood there for a moment looking down at them. There were some wounds on Freda's white neck that had crusted over with dried blood. His eyes moved to Ben. There was no wound on Ben's throat And he heard a voice in his mind that said: If only I'd wake up.
He shook his head. No, there was no waking up from this.
He found the car keys on the bureau and picked them up. He turned away and left the silent house behind. It was the last time he ever saw either of them alive.
The motor coughed into life and he let it idle a few minutes, choke out, while he sat staring out through the dusty windshield. A fly buzzed its bloated form around his head in the hot, airless interior of the car. He watched the dull green glitter of it and felt the car pulsing under him.
After a moment he pushed in the choke and drove the car up the street. He parked it in the driveway before his garage and turned off the motor.
The house was cool and silent. His shoes scuffed47 quietly over the rug, then clicked on the floor boards in the hall.
He stood motionless in the doorway48 looking at her. She still lay on her back, arms at her sides, the white fingers slightly curled in. She looked as if she were sleeping.
He turned away and went back into the living room. What was be going to do? Choices seemed pointless now. What did it matter what he did? Life would be equally purposeless no matter what his decision was.
He stood before the window looking out at the quiet, Sun-drenched street, his eyes lifeless.
Why did I get the car, then? he wondered His throat moved as he swallowed.. I can't burn her, he thought. I won't. But what else was there? Funeral parlors49 were closed. What few morticians were healthy enough to practice were prevented from doing so by law. Everyone without exception had to be transported to the fires immediately upon death. It was the only way they knew now to prevent communication. Only flames could destroy the bacteria that caused the plague.
He knew that. He knew it was the law. But how many people followed it? He wondered that too. How many husbands took the women who had shared their life and love and dropped them into flames? How many parents incinerated the children they adored, how many children tossed their beloved parents on a bonfire a hundred yards square, a hundred feet deep?
No, if there was anything left in the world, it was his vow50 that she would not be burned in the fire.
An hour passed before he finally reached a decision. Then he went and got her needle and thread. He kept sewing until only her face showed. Then, fingers trembling, a tight knot in his stomach, he sewed the blanket together over her mouth. Over her nose. Her eyes.
Finished, he went in the kitchen and drank another glass of whisky. It didn't seem to affect him at all.
At last he went back to the bedroom on faltering legs.. For a long minute he stood there breathing hoarsely52; Then he bent53 over and worked his arms under her inert54 form.
"Come on, baby," he whispered.
The words seemed to loosen everything. He felt himself shaking, felt the tears running slowly down his cheeks as he carried her through the living room and outside.
He put her in the back seat and got in the car. He took a deep breath and reached for the starter button.
He drew back. Getting out of the oar22 again, he went into the garage and got the shovel55.
He twitched as he came out, seeing the man across the street approaching slowly. He put the shovel in the back and got in the car.
"Wait!"
The man's shout was hoarse51. The man tried to run, but he wasn't strong enough.
Robert Neville sat there silently as the man came shuffling56 up.
"Could you ... let me bring my ... my mother too?" the man said stiffly.
"I...I...I..."
Neville's brain wouldn't function. He thought he was going to cry again, but he caught himself and stiffened57 his back.
"I'm not going to the ... there," he said.
The man looked at him blankly.
"But your..."
"I'm not going to the fire, I said!" Neville blurted58 out, and jabbed in the starter button.
"But your wife," said the man. "You have your..."
Robert Neville jerked the gear shift into reverse.
"Please," begged the man.
"I'm not going there!" Neville shouted without looking at the man.
"But it's the law!" the man shouted back, suddenly furious.
The car raced back quickly into the street and Neville jerked it around to face Compton Boulevard. As he sped away he saw the man standing at the curb59 watching him leave. Fool! His mind grated. Do you think I'm going to throw my wife into a fire?
The streets were deserted60. He turned left at Compton and started west. As he drove he looked at the huge lot on the right side of the car. He couldn't use any of the cemeteries61. They were locked and watched. Men had been shot trying to bury their loved ones.
He turned right at the next block. and drove up one block, turned night again into a quiet street that ended in the lot. Halfway62 up the block he cut the motor. He rolled the rest of the way so no one would hear the car.
No one saw him carry her from the car or carry her deep into the high-weeded lot. No one saw him put her down on an open patch of ground and then disappear from view as he knelt.
Slowly he dug, pushing the shovel into the soft earth, the bright sun pouring heat into the little clearing like molten air into a dish. Sweat ran in many lines down his cheeks and forehead as he dug, and the earth swam dizzily before his eyes. Newly thrown dirt filled his nostrils63 with its hot, pungent64 smell.
At last the hole was finished. He put down the shovel and sagged down on his knees. His body shuddered and sweat trickled65 over his face. This was the part he dreaded66.
But he knew he couldn't wait. If he was seen they would come out and get him. Being shot was nothing. But she would be burned then. His lips tightened67. No.
Gently, carefully as he could, he lowered her into the shallow grave, making sure that her head did not bump.
He straightened up and looked down at her still body sewn up in the blanket For the last time, he thought. No more talking, no more loving. Eleven wonderful years ending in a filled-in trench30. He began to tremble. No, he ordered himself, there's no time for that.
It was no use. The world shimmered69 through endless distorting tears while he pressed back the hot earth, patting it around her still body. with nerveless fingers.
He lay fully68 clothed on his bed, staring at the black ceiling. He was half drunk and the darkness spun70 with fireflies.
His right arm faltered71 out for the table. His hand brushed the bottle over and he jerked out clawing fingers too late. Then he relaxed and lay there in the still of night, listening to the whisky gurgle out of the bottle mouth and spread across the floor.
His unkempt hair rustled72 on the pillow as he looked toward the clock. Two in the morning. Two days since he'd buried her. Two eyes looking at the clock, two ears picking up the hum of its electric chronology, two lips pressed together, two hands lying on the bed.
He tried to rid himself of the concept, but everything in the world seemed suddenly to have dropped into a pit of duality, victim to a system of twos. Two people dead, two beds in the mom, two windows, two bureaus, two rugs, two hearts that...
His chest filled with night air, held, then pushed it out and sank abruptly. Two days, two hands, two eyes, two legs, two feet...
He sat up and dropped his legs over the edge of the bed.
His feet landed in the puddle73 of whisky and, he felt it soaking through his socks. A cold breeze was rattling74 the window blinds.
He stared at the blackness. What's left? he asked himself. What's left, anyway?
Wearily he stood up and stumbled into the bathroom, leaving wet tracks behind him. He threw water into his face and fumbled75 for a towel.
What's left? What's...
He stood suddenly rigid in the cold blackness.
Someone was turning the knob on the front door.
He felt a chill move up the back of his neck and his scalp began prickling. It's Ben, he heard his mind offering. He's come for the car keys.
The towel slipped from his fingers and he. heard it swish down onto the tiles. His body twitched.
A fist thudded against the door, strengthless, as if it had fallen against the wood.
He moved into the living room slowly, his heartbeat thudding heavily.
The door rattled76 as another fist thudded against it weakly. He felt himself twitch16 at the sound. What's the matter? he thought. The door is open. From the open window a cold breeze blew across his face. The darkness drew him to the door.
`Who .. ." he murmured, unable to go on.
His hand recoiled77 from the doorknob as it turned under his fingers. With one step, he backed into the wall and stood there breathing harshly, his widened eyes staring.
Nothing happened. He stood there holding himself rigidly.
Then his breath was snuffed. Someone was mumbling78 on the porch, muttering words he couldn't hear. He braced79 himself; then, with a lunge, he jerked open the door and let the moonlight in.
He couldn't even scream. He just stood rooted to the spot, staring dumbly at Virginia.
"Rob ... ert," she said.
收听单词发音 |
1
hush
|
|
| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
rigid
|
|
| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
petrified
|
|
| adj.惊呆的；目瞪口呆的v.使吓呆，使惊呆；变僵硬；使石化(petrify的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
calcification
|
|
| n.钙化 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
vaguely
|
|
| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
prostration
|
|
| n. 平伏, 跪倒, 疲劳 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
bereft
|
|
| adj.被剥夺的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
abruptly
|
|
| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
Flared
|
|
| adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
numbness
|
|
| n.无感觉，麻木，惊呆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
sagged
|
|
| 下垂的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
gulped
|
|
| v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的过去式和过去分词 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
spoke
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
twitch
|
|
| v.急拉，抽动，痉挛，抽搐；n.扯，阵痛，痉挛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
twitching
|
|
| n.颤搐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
intake
|
|
| n.吸入，纳入；进气口，入口 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
barbs
|
|
| n.（箭头、鱼钩等的）倒钩( barb的名词复数 )；带刺的话；毕露的锋芒；钩状毛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
whined
|
|
| v.哀号( whine的过去式和过去分词 )；哀诉，诉怨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
enacted
|
|
| 制定（法律），通过（法案）( enact的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
oar
|
|
| n.桨，橹，划手；v.划行 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
dense
|
|
| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
darted
|
|
| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
gouged
|
|
| v.凿( gouge的过去式和过去分词 )；乱要价；（在…中）抠出…；挖出… | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
frenzied
|
|
| a.激怒的；疯狂的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
ragged
|
|
| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
trenches
|
|
| 深沟，地沟( trench的名词复数 )； 战壕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
trench
|
|
| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
numbing
|
|
| adj.使麻木的，使失去感觉的v.使麻木，使麻痹( numb的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
jaw
|
|
| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
trickle
|
|
| vi.淌，滴，流出，慢慢移动，逐渐消散 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
gasping
|
|
| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
gasp
|
|
| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
wraith
|
|
| n.幽灵；骨瘦如柴的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
numbed
|
|
| v.使麻木，使麻痹( numb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
absurdity
|
|
| n.荒谬，愚蠢；谬论 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
rigidly
|
|
| adv.刻板地，僵化地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
veins
|
|
| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
twitched
|
|
| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
brittle
|
|
| adj.易碎的；脆弱的；冷淡的；(声音)尖利的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
comas
|
|
| n.昏迷( coma的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
44
pajamas
|
|
| n.睡衣裤 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
faltering
|
|
| 犹豫的，支吾的，蹒跚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
labored
|
|
| adj.吃力的，谨慎的v.努力争取(for)( labor的过去式和过去分词 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
scuffed
|
|
| v.使磨损( scuff的过去式和过去分词 )；拖着脚走 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
doorway
|
|
| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
parlors
|
|
| 客厅( parlor的名词复数 )； 起居室； （旅馆中的）休息室； （通常用来构成合成词）店 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
vow
|
|
| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
hoarse
|
|
| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
hoarsely
|
|
| adv.嘶哑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
inert
|
|
| adj.无活动能力的，惰性的；迟钝的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
shovel
|
|
| n.铁锨，铲子，一铲之量；v.铲，铲出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
shuffling
|
|
| adj. 慢慢移动的, 滑移的 动词shuffle的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
stiffened
|
|
| 加强的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
blurted
|
|
| v.突然说出，脱口而出( blurt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
curb
|
|
| n.场外证券市场，场外交易；vt.制止，抑制 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
deserted
|
|
| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
cemeteries
|
|
| n.（非教堂的）墓地，公墓( cemetery的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
halfway
|
|
| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
nostrils
|
|
| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
pungent
|
|
| adj.（气味、味道）刺激性的，辛辣的；尖锐的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
trickled
|
|
| v.滴( trickle的过去式和过去分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
dreaded
|
|
| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
tightened
|
|
| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
fully
|
|
| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
shimmered
|
|
| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
spun
|
|
| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
faltered
|
|
| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
rustled
|
|
| v.发出沙沙的声音( rustle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
puddle
|
|
| n.(雨)水坑，泥潭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
rattling
|
|
| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
fumbled
|
|
| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
rattled
|
|
| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
recoiled
|
|
| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
mumbling
|
|
| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
braced
|
|
| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |