sk.thegunslinger-第11章
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There were less of them； now； he had run through them like a mower's scythe。 He thought they would break with the woman dead； but someone threw a knife。 The hilt struck him squarely between the eyes and knocked him over。 They ran at him in a reaching； vicious clot。 He fired his guns empty again； lying in his own spent shells。 His head hurt and he saw large brown circles in front of his 'eyes。 He missed one shot； downed eleven。
But they were on him； the ones that were left He fired the four shells he had reloaded； and then they were beating him； stabbing him。 He threw a pair of them off his left arm and rolled away。 His hands began doing their infallible trick。 He was stabbed in the shoulder。 He was stabbed in the back。 He was hit across the ribs。 He was stabbed in the ass。 A small boy squirmed at him and made the only deep cut； across the bulge of his calf。 The gunslinger blew his head off。
They were scattering and he let them have it again。 The ones left began to retreat toward the sandcolored； pitted buildings； and still the hands did their trick； like overeager dogs that want to do their rollingover trick for you not once or twice but all night； and the hands were cutting them down as they ran。 The last one made it as far as the steps of the barber shop's back porch； and then the gunslinger's bullet took him in the back of the head。
Silence came back in； filling jagged spaces。
The gunslinger was bleeding from perhaps twenty different wounds； all of them shallow except for the cut across his calf。 He bound it with a strip of shirt and then straightened and examined his kill。
They trailed in a twisted； zigzagging path from the back door of the barber shop to where he stood。 They lay in all positions。 None of them seemed to be sleeping。
He followed them back； counting as he went。 In the general store one man lay with his arms wrapped lovingly around the cracked candy jar he had dragged down with him。
He ended up where he had started； in the middle of the deserted main street He had shot and killed thirtynine men； fourteen women； and five children。 He had shot and killed everyone in Tull。
A sickishsweet odor came to him on the first of the dry； stirring wind。 He followed it； then looked up and nodded。 The decaying body of Nort was spread…eagled atop the plank roof of Sheb's； crucified with wooden pegs。 Mouth and eyes were open。 A large and purple cloven hoof had been pressed into the skin of his grimy forehead。
He walked out of town。 His mule was standing in a clump of weed about forty yards out along the remnant of the coach road。 The gunslinger led it back to Kennerly's 。 stable。 Outside； the wind was playing a ragtime tune。 He put the mule up and went back to Sheb's。 He found a ladder in the back shed； went up to the roof； and cut Nort down。 The body was lighter than a bag of sticks。 He tumbled it down to join the mon people。 Then he went back inside； ate hamburgers and drank three beers while the light failed and the sand began to fly。 That night he slept in the bed where he and Allie had lain。 He had no dreams。 The next morning the wind was gone and the sun was its usual bright and forgetful self。 The bodies had gone south like tumble…weeds with the wind。 At midmorning； after he had bound all his cuts； he moved on as well。
XVIII
He thought Brown had fallen asleep。 The fire was down to a spark and the bird； Zoltan； had put his head under his wing。
Just as he was about to get up and spread a pallet in the corner； Brown said； 〃There。 You've told it。 Do you feel better？〃
The gunslinger started。 〃Why would I feel bad？〃
〃You're human； you said。 No demon。 Or did you lie？〃
〃I didn't lie。〃 He felt the grudging admittance in him： he liked Brown。 Honestly did。 And he hadn't lied to the dweller in any way。 〃Who are you； Brown？ Really； I mean。 〃
〃Just me；〃 he said； unperturbed。 〃Why do you have to think you're such a mystery？〃
The gunslinger lit a smoke without replying。
〃I think you're very close to your man in black；〃 Brown said。 〃Is he desperate？〃
〃I don't know。 〃
〃Are you？〃
〃Not yet；〃 the gunslinger said。 He looked at Brown with a shade of defiance。 〃I do what I have to do。〃
〃That's good then；〃 Brown said and turned over and went to sleep。
XIX
In the morning Brown fed him and sent him on his way。 In the daylight he was an amazing figure with his scrawny； burnt chest； pencil…like collarbones and ring…leted shock of red hair。 The bird perched on his shoulder。
〃The mule？〃 The gunslinger asked。
〃I'll eat it；〃 Brown said。
〃Okay。〃
Brown offered his hand and the gunslinger shook it。 The dweller nodded to the south。 〃Walk easy。 〃
〃You know it。〃
They nodded at each other and then the gunslinger walked away； his body festooned with guns and water。 He looked back once。 Brown was rooting furiously at his little bed。 The crow was perched on the low roof of his dwelling like a gargoyle。
XX
The fire was down； and the stars had begun to pale off。 The wind walked restlessly。 The gunslinger twitched in his sleep and was still again。 He dreamed a thirsty dream。 In the darkness the shape of the mountains was invisible。 The thoughts of guilt had faded。 The desert had baked them out。 He found himself thinking more and more about Cort； who had taught him to shoot； instead。 Cort had known black from white。
He stirred again and awoke。 He blinked at the dead fire with its own shape superimposed over the other； more geometrical one。 He was a romantic； he knew it； and he guarded the knowledge jealously。
That； of course； made him think of Cort again。 He didn't know where Cort was。 The world had moved on。
The gunslinger shouldered his tote sack and moved on with it。
THE WAY STATION
I
A nursery rhyme had been playing itself through his mind all day； the maddening kind of thing that will not let go； that stands mockingly outside the apse of the conscious mind and makes faces at the rational being inside。 The rhyme was：
The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain。
There is joy and also pain
but the rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain。
Pretty…plain； loony…sane
The ways of the world all will change and all the ways remain the same
but if you're mad or only sane
the rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain。
We walk in love but fly in chains
And the planes in Spain fall mainly in the rain。
He knew why the rhyme had occurred to him。 There had been the recurring dream of his room in the castle and of his father； who had sung it to him as he lay solemnly in the tiny bed by the window of many colors。 She did not sing it at bedtimes because all small boys born to the High Speech must face the dark alone； but she sang to him at nap…times and he could remember the heavy gray rain light that shivered into colors on the counterpane； he could feel the coolness of the room and the heavy warmth of blankets； love for his mother and her red lips； the haunting melody of the little nonsense lyric； and her voice。
Now it came back maddeningly； like prickly heat； chasing its own tail in his mind as he walked。 All his water was gone； and he knew he was very likely a dead man。 He had never expected it to e to this； and he was sorry。 Since noon he had been watching his feet rather than watching the way ahead。 Out here even the devil…grass had grown stunted and yellow。 The hardpan had disintegrated in places to mere rubble。 The mountains were not noticeably clearer； although sixteen days had passed since he had left the hut of the last homesteader； a loony…sane young man on the edge of the desert He had had a raven； the gunslinger remembered； but he couldn't remember the raven's name。
He watched his feet move up and down； listened to the nonsense rhyme sing itself into a pitiful garble in his mind； and wondered when he would fall down for the first time。 He didn't want to fall； even though there was no one to see him。 It was a matter of pride。 A gunslinger knows pride that invisible bone that keeps the neck stiff。
He stopped and looked up suddenly。 It made his head buzz and for a moment his whole body seemed to float The mountains dreamed against the far horizon。 But there was something else up ahead； something much closer。 Perhaps only five miles away。 He squinted at it； but his eyes were sandblasted an
