gns.snakes-第35章

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elow　ground　which　stank　heavily　of　death　and　decay。
　　
　　They　took　various　routes　but　all　headed　back　towards　the　village　where　their　Enemy　slumbered。　They　moved　silently；　barely　a　rustling　of　the　sun…scorched　undergrowth　denoted　their　passing。
　　
　　Following　the　hedges；　skirting　the　hard　road。　Picking　up　the　rancid　stench　of　Man　in　the　warm　atmosphere。　And　being　angry。
　　
　　The　young　corporal　had　taken　up　his　position　in　the　porch　of　the　Rising　Sun　at　ten　o'clock。　All　the　others；　policemen　and　soldiers；　envied　him；　but　it　would　have　been　more　than　his　stripes　were　worth　to　go　into　the　bar。　Anyway；　he　did　not　need　to；　there　was　a　pint　awaiting　him　on　the　step　when　he　arrived；　two　fill…ups　before　closing　time；　and　when　the　doors　were　locked　the　landlord　left　a　couple　of　cans　of　Export　within　easy　reach。
　　
　　He　was　a　hero　without　having　done　anything　to　warrant　it　and　probably　would　not　have　to　do　more　than　sit　there　until　dawn　with　a　double…barrelled　12…bore　loaded　with　BB　shot　across　his　knees。
　　
　　Life　was　a　doddle。　An　army　career　was　like　a　lottery；　you　drew　your　ticket　and　took　what　they　gave　you。　Now　take　Charlie　Ford；　he　reflected；　he'd　had　a　Belfast　posting；　was　currently　lying　on　a　hospital　bed　because　a　sniper's　bullet　had　chipped　his　spine；　probably　would　never　walk　again。　You　had　to　take　what　Lady　Luck　dished　out　to　you。　The　money　was　no　great　shakes　but　they　fed　you；　clothed　you；　gave　you　a　home；　and　your　pay　cheque　was　just　spending　money。
　　
　　The　snakes　were　a　wele　diversion。　A　week　ago　he　had　been　on　a　mando　training　course　in　a　remote　area　of　Wales。　They　put　you　through　it；　tried　to　find　your　limit　of　endurance。　The　corporal　had　almost　broken；　but　the　snakes　had　saved　him。　The　orders　came　through　and　twelve　hours　later　he　was　sitting　on　his　backside；　drinking　beer　in　a　village　he'd　never　even　heard　of　before。
　　
　　They　wouldn't　find　the　snakes；　of　course　they　bloody　well　wouldn't；　but　they　had　to　be　seen　to　be　doing　something　about　it　or　else　there　would　have　been　a　public　outcry。　The　whole　business　could　have　turned　into　a　political　issue；　a　squabbling　match　in　Westminster。　The　snakes　would　not　be　seen　again。　The　poor　buggers　were　probably　scared　to　death；　lost　in　a　strange　land　with　nothing　to　eat。　OK；　so　a　few　people　had　been　killed；　there　were　some　funerals　tomorrow；　but　that　was　because　the　frightened　snakes　had　panicked。　In　all　probability；　the　reptiles　had　now　crawled　away　somewhere　to　die。　People　were　getting　killed　all　over　the　world　every　day　of　the　year　and　always　would　be。
　　
　　A　single　streetlamp　cast　a　circle　of　orange　light　across　the　road　and　into　the　small　car　park。　That　was　handy；　you　didn't　have　to　keep　straining　your　eyes　in　the　dark。　He　was　paid　to　do　a　job　and　he　would　do　it；　you　got　lazy　if　you　didn't。
　　
　　The　soldier　popped　another　can　of　Export；　took　a　long　drink　and　set　it　down　on　the　stone　step　beside　him。　His　eyes　dropped　to　the　shotgun　across　his　knees。　Funny　things　shotguns；　he　had　never　handled　one　before；　let　alone　fired　one。　To　a　professional　they　seemed　amateurish；　nothing　technically　plicated；　no　range…finders　or　anything　like　that。　You　didn't　even　have　to　sight　them；　just　pointed　them　at　your　target；　pulled　the　trigger　and　blasted　whatever　you　wanted　to　blast。　Clumsy；　he　thought；　no　marksmanship　required；　a　spread　of　shot　that　couldn't　miss。　That's　why　these　sportsmen　used　them；　because　they　wouldn't　bloody　hit　anything　if　they　used　a　rifle。
　　
　　The　pany　had　had　a　briefing　from　the　CO　on　the　use　of　shotguns。　Swing　with　your　target　and　keep　on　swinging　even　after　you've　fired。　Keep　both　eyes　open。　The　soldier　supposed　they　had　to　say　something；　couldn't　just　dole　out　weapons　and　leave　you　to　find　out　for　yourself　how　to　use　them。　He'd　read　somewhere　that　the　RAF　used　them　for　clay…pigeon　shooting；　some　kind　of　training　exercise。　More　like　a　bit　of　sport　for　the　toffs。
　　
　　The　corporal　checked　that　the　safety　catch　was　on。　Don't　want　the　bloody　thing　going　off　and　demolishing　the　pub；　else　I'll　be　on　my　way　back　to　Wales　tomorrow。
　　
　　Christ；　you　could　still　smell　that　field　that　had　burned；　the　stench　of　charred　undergrowth　wafting　on　the　faint　breeze。　Some　fire　that　had　been；　he　wished　he　had　been　here　to　see　it。　It　had　been　virtually　out　when　B　pany　had　rolled　into　Stainforth；　just　a　damping…down　operation　left　for　the　fire…fighters。
　　
　　Idly　he　wondered　why　the　firemen　had　left　that　hose　lying　across　the　road。　Bloody　careless　of　them；　it　was　all　right　for　cars；　they　could　bump　over　it　but　it　might　unseat　a　cyclist；　even　a　motorcyclist　if　he　was　going　too　fast。　The　soldier　decided　he　would　report　it　to　the　major　in　the　morning。　There's　a　hose　left　lying　across　the　road　by　the　Rising　Sun；　sir；　a　potential　hazard　to　motorists　and　cyclists。　See　how　alert　I've　been；　I　haven't　been　kipping　like　some　of　the　boys　have。
　　
　　He　drank　some　more　beer；　checked　the　time　again。　2。35。　Another　hour　and　a　half　and　it　would　be　starting　to　get　light。　His　duty　finished　at　seven　and　he　had　the　rest　of　the　day　off　until　8　P。M。　20。00　hours　in　military　terminology。　He　wondered　what　the　birds　were　like　in　this　place。　Country　bumpkins　probably；　it　might　be　better　to　take　a　bus　into　town。　The　trouble　was　with　night　duty　you　never　stood　much　chance　with　birds　in　the　daytime；　most　of　them　were　at　work。　See　you　tonight；　soldier　boy。　Sorry；　I'm　on　duty。　But　you　couldn't　have　it　both　ways；　he　could　be　lying　in　a　hospital　bed；　flat　on　his　back　with　no　chance　of　ever　walking　again；　like　Charlie。
　　
　　Something　was　wrong；　he　did　not　quite　know　what　it　was；　something　his　trained　senses　had　picked　up　and　said；　'Hey；　boy；　that's　not　quite　right。'　Check　your　foreground　and　background；　log　every　detail　in　your　mind。　Listen。　Look　for　something　out　of　place；　movable　camouflage　bushes　creeping　in　on　you。
　　
　　That　bloody　hose；　that　was　what　it　was！　The　bugger　was　lying　on　the　edge　of　the　car　park　now　and　the　road　was　clear。　Sorry；　sir；　I　made　a　mistake；　it　wasn't　on　the　road　after　all。
　　
　　Now　how　the　fuck　did　that　get　across　there？　Somebody　must've　。　。　。　Oh　Jesus　on　a　bike；　it's　moving！
　　
　　He　stared　in　horrified　fascination　as　the　long　length　eased　itself　across　the　shale　as　though　somebody　had　an　invisible　wire　attached　to　it；　was　pulling　it　along。　Some　kind　of　joke；　the　local　yobbos　taking　the　piss　out　of　the　soldiers　trying　to　scare　them　with　make…believe　snakes。
　　
　　It　was　a　snake；　a　bloody　big　one！
　　
　　The　corporal　instinctively　retreated　up　a　step；　knocked　his　beer　over；　sent　the　can　clinking　and　rolling　across　the　sloping　forecourt　leaving　a　trail　of　frothy　fizzing　amber　liquid　in　its　wake。　And　that　was　when　the　advancing　snake　saw　him；　stopped；　reared　its　fearsome　head　a　foot　or　so　off　the　ground。　It　was　a　boa…constrictor　of　some　kind；　you　didn't　need　a　university　education　to　know　that。　God；　it　had　to　be　all　of　twenty　feet　long　and　as　thick　as　your　leg。　The　corporal　went　cold；　wished　to　Christ　he　had　his　rifle　instead　of　this　scatter…gun；　But　you'll　have　to　shoot　else　it'll　get　you；　'cause　it　was　trying　to　sneak　up　on　you　in　the　first　place。
　　
　　He　raised　the　gun　to　his　shoulder。　Never　mind　what　they　tell　you　about　keeping　both　eyes　open　and　all　that　crap；　get　a　sight　on　it　and　blow　the　fucker　to　smithereens。
　　
　　The　force　of　the　blast　knocked　him　back　against　the　door。　He　crouched　there　trying　to　see。　Oh　fuck；　the　bastard's　still　ing；　how　in　hell　did　I　miss？　On　the　verge　of　panic　he　fired　the　second　barrel；　saw　the　python　go　down。
　　
　　It　flopped；　rolled；　squirmed。　And　came　back　up。　The　corporal　fumbled　to　extract　the　spent　cartridge　cases　from　his　gun；　unfamiliar　with　manual　loading；　feeling　in　the　pocket　of　his　bat　jacket　for　live　shells。
　　
　　The　snake　was　moving　fast；　throwing　itself　forward　in　a　series　of　flops　like　a　landed　sea…lion；　hissing　its　fury；　oblivious　to　the　pain　where　a　scattering　of　BB　shot　had　caught　it　just　below　the　head；　pumping　blood　as　it　charged。
　　
　　The　corporal　pushed　fresh　shells　into　the　breech；　snapped　the　barrels　shut　but　he　was　too　late。　Its　vicious　lunge；　a　hurtling　forward　of　its　dragging　body；　sent　the　gun　spinning　f