HE WAS OUT HUNTING for Cortman. It had become a relaxing hobby, hunting for Cortman; one of the few diversions left to him. On those days when he didn't care to leave the neighborhood and there was no demanding work to be done on the house, he would search. Under cars, be-hind bushes, under houses, up fireplaces, in closets, under beds, in refrigerators; any place into which a moderately corpulent male body could conceivably be squeezed.
Ben Cortman could be in any one of those places at one time or another. He changed his hiding place constantly. Neville felt certain that Cortman knew he was singled out for capture. He felt, further, that Cortman relished1 the peril2 of it. If the phrase were not such an obvious anachronism, Neville would have said that Ben Cortman had a zest3 for life. Sometimes he thought Cortman was happier now than he ever had been before.
Neville ambled4 slowly up Compton Boulevard toward the next house he meant to search. An uneventful morning had passed. Cortman was not found, even though Neville knew he was somewhere in the neighborhood. He had to be, because he was always the first one at the house at night. The other ones were almost always strangers. Their turnover7 was great, because they invariably stayed in the neighborhood and Neville found them and destroyed them. Not Cortman.
As he strolled, Neville wondered again what he'd do if he found Cortman. True, his plan had always been the same: immediate8 disposal. But that was on the surface. He knew it wouldn't be that easy. .Oh, it wasn't that he felt anything toward Cortman. It wasn't even that Cortman represented a part of the past. The past was dead and he knew it and accepted it.
No, it wasn't either of those things. What it probably was, Neville decided9, was that he didn't want to cut off a recreational activity. The rest were such dull, robot-like creatures. Ben, at least, had some imagination. For some reason, his brain hadn't weakened like the others'. It could be, Neville often theorized, that Ben Cortman was born to be dead. Undead, that is, he thought, a wry10 smile playing on his full lips.
It no longer occurred to him that Cortman was out to kill him. That was a negligible menace.
Neville sank down on the next porch with a slow groan11. Then, reaching lethargically12 into his pocket, he took out his pipe. With an idle thumb he tamped13 rough tobacco shreds14 down into the pipe bowl. In a few moments smoke swirls15 were floating lazily, about his head in the warm, still air.
It was a bigger, more relaxed Neville that gazed out across the wide field on the other side of the boulevard. An evenly paced hermit16 life had increased his weight to 230 pounds. His face was full, his body broad and muscular underneath17 the loose-fitting denim18 he wore. He had long before given up shaving. Only rarely did he crop his thick blond beard, so that it remained two -to three inches from his skin. His hair was thinning and was long and straggly. Set in the deep tan of his face, his blue eyes were calm and unexcitable.
He leaned back against the brick step, puffing19 out slow clouds of smoke. Far out across that field he knew there was still a depression in the ground where he had buried Virginia, where she had unburied herself. But knowing it brought no glimmer20 of reflective sorrow to his eyes. Rather than go on suffering, he had learned to stultify21 himself to introspection. Time had lost its multidimensional scope. There was Only the present for Robert Neville; a present based on day-to-day survival, marked by neither heights of joy nor depths of despair. I am predominantly vegetable, he often thought to himself. That was the way he wanted it.
Robert Neville sat gazing at the white spot out in the field for several minutes before he realized that it was moving.
His eyes blinked once and the skin tightened22 over his face. He made a slight sound in his throat, a sound of doubting question. Then, standing23 up, he raised his left hand to shade the sunlight from his eyes.
His teeth bit convulsively into the pipestem.
A woman.
He didn't even try. to catch the pipe when it fell from his mouth as his jaw24 went slack. For a long, breathless moment, he stood there on the porch step, staring.
He closed his eyes, opened them. She was still there. Robert Neville felt the increasing thud in his chest as he watched the woman.
She didn't see him. Her head was down as she walked across the long field. He could see her reddish hair blowing in the, breeze, her arms swinging loosely at her sides. His throat moved. It was such an incredible sight after three years that his mind could not assimilate it. He kept blinking and staring as he stood motionless in the shade of the house.
A woman. Alive. In the daylight.
He stood, mouth partly open, gaping25 at the woman. She was young, he could see now as she came closer; probably in her twenties. She wore a wrinkled and dirty white dress. She was very tan, her hair was red. In the dead silence of the afternoon Neville thought he heard the crunch26 of her shoes in the long grass.
I've gone mad. The words presented themselves abruptly27. He felt less shock at that possibility than he did at the notion that she was real. He had, in fact, been vaguely28 preparing himself for just such a delusion29. It seemed feasible. The man who died of thirst saw mirages30 of lakes. Why shouldn't a man who thirsted for companionship see a woman walking in the sun?
He started suddenly. No, it wasn't that. For, unless his delusion had sound as well as sight, he now heard her walking through the grass. He knew it was real. The movement of her hair, of her arms. She still looked at the ground. Who was she? Where was she going? Where had she been?
He didn't know what welled up in him. It was too quick to analyze32, an instinct that broke through every barrier of time-erected reserve.
His left arm went up.
"Hi!" he cried. He jumped down to the sidewalk. "Hi, there!"
A moment of sudden, complete silence. Her head jerked up and they looked at each other. Alive, he thought. Alive!
He wanted to shout more, but he felt suddenly choked up. His tongue felt wooden, his brain refused to function. Alive. The word kept repeating itself in his mind, Alive, alive, alive.
With a sudden twisting motion the young woman turned and began running wildly back across the field.
For a moment Neville stood there twitching33, uncertain of what to do. Then his heart seemed to burst and he lunged across the sidewalk. His boots jolted34 down into the street and thudded across.
"Wait!" he heard himself cry.
The woman did not wait. He saw her bronze legs pumping as she fled across the uneven6 surface of the field. And suddenly he realized that words could not stop her. He thought of how shocked he had been at seeing her. How much more shocked she must have felt hearing a sudden shout end long silence and seeing a great, bearded man waving at her!
His legs drove him up over the other curb35 and into the field. His heart was pounding heavily now. She's alive! He couldn't stop thinking that. Alive. A woman alive!
She couldn't run as fast as he could. Almost immediately Neville began catching36 up with her. She glanced back over her shoulder with terrified eyes.
"I won't hurt you!" he cried, but she kept running.
Suddenly she tripped and went crashing down on one knee. Her face turned again and he saw the twisted fright on it.
"I won't hurt you!" he yelled again.
With a desperate lunge she regained37 her footing and ran on.
No sound now but the sound of her shoes and his boots thrashing through the heavy grass. He began jumping over the grass to avoid its impending38 height and gained more ground. The skirt of her dress whipped against the grass, holding her back.
"Stop!" he cried, again, but more from instinct than with any hope that she would stop.
She didn't. She ran still faster and, gritting39 his teeth, Neville put another burst of speed into his pursuit. He followed in a straight line as the girl weaved across the field, her light reddish hair billowing behind her.
Now he was so close he could hear her tortured breathing. He didn't like to frighten her, but he couldn't stop now. Everything else in the world seemed to have fallen from view but her. He had to catch her.
His long, powerful legs pistoned on, his boots thudded on the earth.
Another stretch of field. The two of them ran, panting. She glanced back at him again to see how close he was. He didn't realize how frightening he looked; six foot three in his boots, a gigantic bearded man with an intent look.
Now his hand lurched out and he caught her by the right shoulder.
With a gasping41 scream the young woman twisted away and stumbled to the side. Losing balance, she fell on one hip31 on the rocky ground. Neville jumped forward to help her up. She scuttled42 back over the ground and tried to get up, but she slipped and fell again, this time on her back. Her skirt jerked up over her knees. She shoved herself up with a breathless whimper, her dark eyes terrified.
"Here," he gasped43, reaching out his hand.
She slapped it aside with a slight cry and struggled to her feet. He caught her by the arm and her free hand lashed44 out, raking jagged nails across his forehead and right temple. With a grunt45 he jerked back his arm and she whirled and began running again.
Neville jumped forward again and caught her by the shoulders.
"What are you afraid—"
He couldn't finish. Her hand drove stingingly across his mouth. Then there was only the sound of gasping and struggling, of their feet scrabbling and slipping on the earth, crackling down the thick grass.
"Will you stop!" he cried, but she kept battling.
She jerked back and his taut46 fingers ripped away part of her dress. He let go and the material fluttered down to her waist. He saw her tanned shoulder and the white brassiere cup over her left breast.
She clawed out at him and he caught her wrists in an iron grip. Her right foot drove a bone-numbing kick to his skin.
"Damn it!"
With a snarl47 of rage he drove his right palm across her face. She staggered back, then looked at him dizzily. Abruptly she started crying helplessly. She sank to her knees before him, holding her arms over her head as if to ward5 off further blows.
Neville stood there gasping, looking down at her cringing48 form. He blinked, then took a deep breath.
"Get up," he said. "I'm not going to hurt you."
She didn't raise her head. He looked down confusedly at her. He didn't know what to say.
"I said I'm not going to hurt you," he told her again.
She looked up. But his face seemed to frighten her again, for she shrank back. She crouched49 there looking up at him fearfully.
"What are you afraid of?" he asked.
He didn't realize that his voice was devoid50 of warmth, that it was the harsh, sterile51 voice of a man who had lost all touch with humanity.
He took a step toward her and she drew back again with a frightened gasp40. He extended his hand.
"Here," he said. "Stand up."
She got up slowly but without his help. Noticing suddenly her exposed breast, she reached down and held up the torn material of her dress.
They stood there breathing harshly and looking at each other. And, now that the first shock had passed, Neville didn't know what to say. He'd been dreaming of this moment for years. His dreams had never been like this.
"What ... what's your name?" he asked.
She didn't answer. Her eyes stayed on his face, her lips kept trembling.
"Well?" he asked loudly, and she flinched52.
"R-Ruth." Her voice faltered53.
A shudder54 ran through Robert Neville's body. The sound of her voice seemed to loosen everything in him.
Questions disappeared. He felt his heart beating heavily. He almost felt as if he were going to cry.
His hand moved out, almost unconsciously. Her shoulder trembled under his palm.
"Ruth," he said in a flat, lifeless voice.
His throat moved as he stared at her.
"Ruth," he said again.
The two of them, the man and the woman, stood facing each other in the great, hot field.
收听单词发音 |
1
relished
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| v.欣赏( relish的过去式和过去分词 )；从…获得乐趣；渴望 | |
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peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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zest
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| n.乐趣；滋味，风味；兴趣 | |
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ambled
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| v.（马）缓行( amble的过去式和过去分词 )；从容地走，漫步 | |
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ward
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| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
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uneven
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| adj.不平坦的，不规则的，不均匀的 | |
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turnover
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| n.人员流动率，人事变动率；营业额，成交量 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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wry
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| adj.讽刺的；扭曲的 | |
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groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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lethargically
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tamped
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| v.捣固( tamp的过去式和过去分词 )；填充；（用炮泥）封炮眼口；夯实 | |
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shreds
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| v.撕碎，切碎( shred的第三人称单数 )；用撕毁机撕毁（文件） | |
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swirls
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| n.旋转( swirl的名词复数 )；卷状物；漩涡；尘旋v.旋转，打旋( swirl的第三人称单数 ) | |
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hermit
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| n.隐士，修道者；隐居 | |
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underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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denim
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| n.斜纹棉布；斜纹棉布裤，牛仔裤 | |
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puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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stultify
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| v.愚弄；使呆滞 | |
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tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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25
gaping
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| adj.口的；张口的；敞口的；多洞穴的v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的现在分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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26
crunch
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| n.关键时刻；艰难局面；v.发出碎裂声 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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delusion
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| n.谬见，欺骗，幻觉，迷惑 | |
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mirages
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| n.海市蜃楼，幻景( mirage的名词复数 ) | |
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hip
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| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
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32
analyze
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| vt.分析，解析 (=analyse) | |
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twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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34
jolted
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| （使）摇动， （使）震惊( jolt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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curb
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| n.场外证券市场，场外交易；vt.制止，抑制 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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regained
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| 复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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38
impending
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| a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
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39
gritting
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| v.以沙砾覆盖（某物），撒沙砾于( grit的现在分词 )；咬紧牙关 | |
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40
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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41
gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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42
scuttled
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| v.使船沉没( scuttle的过去式和过去分词 )；快跑，急走 | |
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43
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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44
lashed
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| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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45
grunt
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| v.嘟哝；作呼噜声；n.呼噜声，嘟哝 | |
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46
taut
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| adj.拉紧的，绷紧的，紧张的 | |
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47
snarl
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| v.吼叫，怒骂，纠缠，混乱；n.混乱，缠结，咆哮 | |
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48
cringing
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| adj.谄媚，奉承 | |
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49
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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50
devoid
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| adj.全无的，缺乏的 | |
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51
sterile
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| adj.不毛的，不孕的，无菌的，枯燥的，贫瘠的 | |
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52
flinched
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| v.（因危险和痛苦）退缩，畏惧( flinch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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53
faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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54
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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