jdavid.footprintsofthunder-第92章

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　could　get　to　my　family。　I　didn't　mean　to　hurt　him　。。。　to　hurt　you。〃　。　〃I　know；　Luis。　To　you　he　was　a　big　scary　monster；　but　to　me　he　was　a　friend。　And　friends　don't　leave　friends　when　they're　hurt。〃
　〃Mrs。　Weatherby；　I　won't　leave　without　you。　This　time　I　mean　it。〃
　Mrs。　Weatherby　was　still　protesting　when　Luis　reached　her；　and　he　looked　at　her；　shocked。　She　was　pale　and　sweaty；　and　when　he　bent　to　pick　her　up　she　had　no　strength　to　push　him　away。　He　lifted　her；　one　arm　under　her　knees　and　one　across　her　shoulders。　She　wasn't　heavy；　but　the　effort　started　the　pain　in　Luis's　head　again。
　〃No；　Luis。　I　don't　want　him　to　die　alone。　No　one　should　die　alone；　not　even　an　animal。〃
　〃Maybe　he　won't　die；　Mrs。　Weatherby；〃　Luis　lied；　trying　to　calm　her。　Something　was　seriously　wrong　with　her。　She　hadn't　been　this　pale　or　weak　when　she　faced　off　with　the　Zombies。
　〃He's　dying；　Luis；　I　know　it。　Don't　lie　to　me。〃
　〃All　right；　Mrs。　Weatherby。〃
　〃He　shouldn't　die　alone。〃
　〃No；　he　shouldn't。　But　maybe　his　animal　friends　will　e　if　we　leave。〃
　Mrs。　Weatherby　was　silent　for　a　minute　after　that。　As　he　carried　her　off；　Luis　swung　his　head　back　and　forth　to　keep　an　eye　on　both　the　thumb　spikes　and　the　dinosaur's　head。　Now　the　mouth　opened　slowly；　not　sudden　or　threatening；　and　Luis　heard　a　familiar　sound。
　〃Aaaaaahhhhhh…〃
　Mrs。　Weatherby's　head　came　up。　Luis　stopped　and　turned　so　Mrs。　Weatherby　could　see　her　friend。　The　two　of　them　looked　at　each　other。　The　sadness　in　Mrs。　Weatherby's　eyes　was　clear。　Maybe　Luis　was　imagining　it；　but　he　thought　he　saw　the　same　emotion　and　intelligence　in　the　dinosaur's　eyes。　The　animal's　mouth　opened　again　and　another　soft　〃aaaahhhh〃　came　gurgling　from　its　throat。　Then　the　head　sank　to　the　bloody　grass；　the　eyes　closed；　and　a　long　slow　breath　blew　from　its　nostrils。　It　didn't　move　after　that。
　Mrs。　Weatherby　began　to　cry；　tears　streaming　down　her　face。　Luis　quickly　turned　away　and　carried　her　into　the　grass。　She　never　tried　to　look　back。　The　old　lady　hung　limply　in　Luis's　arms；　still　pale　and　sweaty。　Since　the　day　was　cool　but　not　cold；　the　perspiration　worried　Luis。　He　stopped　frequently；　resting　his　aching　head　more　than　his　arms。　Twice　things　moved　through　the　grass　around　him；　but　he　ignored　them。
　When　Luis　paused　near　the　apartment　to　rest　again　he　heard　a　new　sound：　gunfire。　The　battle　for　the　streets　was　raging　again。　Luis　waited　with　Mrs。　Weatherby；　trying　to　locate　the　sounds；　muffled　but　not　distant。　Perhaps　on　the　other　side　of　their　apartment　building？
　Luis　looked　down。　Mrs。　Weatherby　seemed　to　be　asleep。　He　didn't　know　if　that　was　a　good　or　bad　sign。　He　felt　he　could　reach　the　safety　of　the　apartment　without　getting　shot；　so　he　carried　Mrs。　Weatherby　across　the　open　space；　past　her　garden；　and　into　their　building；　pausing　twice　on　the　stairs　before　he　reached　her　apartment。　He　lay　her　on　the　couch。
　〃It　smells　like　home；　Luis。〃
　Luis　was　surprised　when　she　spoke；　thinking　she　was　asleep。
　〃It　is　home；　Mrs。　Weatherby。　Lie　still。　Get　some　rest。〃
　〃Are　they　shooting　again？〃
　〃Yes；　in　the　streets。　Not　too　near；　probably。〃
　Mrs。　Weatherby；　silent；　was　breathing　shallowly。　Luis　wasn't　sure　if　she　was　asleep　but　used　the　quiet　time　to　get　a　washcloth　from　the　bathroom　and　soak　it　in　the　water　from　the　toilet　tank；　and　used　it　to　wipe　the　perspiration　from　her　face。
　He　didn't　know　what　else　to　do。　Until　the　shooting　stopped　he　had　little　hope　of　getting　her　any　help。
　The　wet　cloth　seemed　to　revive　her　and　she　opened　her　eyes　and　looked　up　at　Luis。
　〃There's　blood　in　your　hair　again；〃　she　told　him。
　〃I　know。　I'm　okay。〃
　〃I'll　wash　it　out　for　you。〃
　〃When　you're　feeling　better。〃
　Mrs。　Weatherby　lifted　her　head　but　didn't　have　the　strength　to　sit　up。　Then　she　sank　back　down　and　looked　at　Luis。
　〃Help　me　to　my　window　chair。〃
　〃You're　better　off　here。　Maybe　in　bed？〃
　〃My　window　chair。　That's　where　I　always　sit；　well　or　sick。〃
　Mrs。　Weatherby　seemed　agitated。　Making　her　unhappy　wouldn't　help　her　heal；　Luis　realized；　so　he　set　her　down　gently　in　the　rocker　by　the　window。
　Mrs。　Weatherby　turned　her　head　and　looked　into　the　distance。　Luis　had　forgotten　about　the　iguanodon's　body；　and　to　his　dismay；　he　saw　animals　around　it。　Mrs。　Weatherby's　friend　was　being　recycled。
　〃Luis？〃　Mrs。　Weatherby　spoke　in　little　more　than　a　whisper。　〃I　lost　my　glasses　in　the　meadow。　Can　you　see　him？　Did　his　friends　e　to　be　with　him？〃
　〃Yes；　I　can　see　him；　and　he's　got　lots　of　friends　with　him。〃
　〃I'm　so　glad。　I　wanted　to　be　with　him　too。〃
　〃I　took　you　away。　Don't　blame　yourself。〃
　Mrs。　Weatherby　was　silent　for　a　few　minutes　and　then　whispered　again　to　Luis。
　〃Please；　dear；　can　you　fix　me　a　cup　of　tea？〃
　In　the　kitchen；　Luis　lit　the　stove　and　then　put　the　pot　on　to　boil。　Then　he　sat　with　Mrs。　Weatherby　to　wait。　Her　skin　was　ashen；　now；　and　she　perspired　profusely。　As　he　watched　her　she　involuntarily　shifted　from　sweating　to　shivering。　Taking　the　crocheted　blanket　from　the　couch；　Luis　covered　her。　She　managed　to　sit；　clutching　it　in　her　hands　and　staring　out　the　window。
　The　teakettle　whistled　and　Luis　returned　to　the　kitchen。　Then　he　took　the　tea　back　to　Mrs。　Weatherby…she　didn't　move　when　he　set　it　down。　Her　eyes　were　open　and　staring　out　through　the　window。
　Luis　watched　her　chest　and　lips。　She　wasn't　breathing；　and　she　didn't　blink　when　he　passed　his　hand　in　front　of　her　eyes。　Luis　rejected　the　idea　of　trying　to　revive　her。　She　wouldn't　want　to　be　brought　back　to　the　loneliness　and　the　pain　of　grief。　Besides；　she　had　died　as　she　wanted；　with　a　friend。
　Luis　left　her　in　her　chair　by　the　window；　her　head　turned　to　the　meadow；　her　lifeless　eyes　forever　open　to　take　in　the　view。　A　cup　of　tea　lay　at　her　right　and　her　crocheting　on　the　floor　next　to　her。
　She　would　never　finish　the　girls'　bedspreads。　Luis　knew　someday　she　would　need　to　be　buried；　but　he　believed　she　should　be　entombed　just　this　way；　like　a　pharaoh　sent　to　the　next　world　with　everything　he　needed。　Luis　wished　he　could　seal　this　room　in　concrete　with　Mrs。　Weatherby　just　as　she　was。　A　thousand　years　later　some　archeologist　could　open　it　and　see　how　one　woman's　life　had　ended。
　It　bothered　Luis　when　he　speculated　that　the　archeologists　of　the　future　might　think　she　had　died　alone　and　friendless。　It　hadn't　been　that　way。　She　had　had　two　good　friends　in　her　final　hours。　One　a　dinosaur；　who　had　e　out　of　time　and　befriended　her；　and　the　other　a　human；　no　relation；　who　now　grieved　over　her　death。
　Luis　left；　closing　and　locking　the　door　and　went　to　his　own　ransacked　apartment。　On　his　couch　he　listened　to　the　sounds　of　the　gunfire　in　the　street。　It　was　more　sporadic　now。　Someone　was　winning　the　battle。　Luis　dozed　for　a　few　minutes　and　when　he　woke　there　was　silence　in　the　streets。　He　waited　another　hour　before　he　ventured　out。
　When　he　peeked　through　the　front　door　of　the　building　he　saw　two　soldiers　walking　up　the　street。　They　wore　helmets　but　carried　their　guns　casually；　as　if　they　felt　safe　from　fire。
　When　Luis　stepped　from　the　doorway　and　called　to　them；　their　guns　pointed　at　him　and　he　instinctively　put　his　hands　in　the　air。　When　the　guardsmen　demanded　identification；　Luis　started　a　long　explanation　about　being　mugged　and　losing　his　wallet　and　pointed　at　his　injured　head　to　prove　it。　Though　they　listened　skeptically；　they　only　searched　him　for　weapons　and　then　escorted　him　down　the　street　to　a　looted　furniture　store　used　as　a　holding　area。　He　joined　a　room　full　of　old　men　and　women　who　were　waiting　for　transportation。
　An　hour　later　Luis　was　called　to　a　desk　and　a　woman　soldier　asked　him　a　long　list　of　questions　and　filled　out　two　forms　with　the　answers。　Luis　gave　her　Steve's　phone　number　and　address；　but　she　reminded　him　the　phones　were　not　working；　then　sent　him　back　to　sit　with　the　old　men　and　women。
　Luis　sat　against　the　wall　with　his　head　on　his　arms；　finally　dozing　off。　Someone　shook　him　awake。　It　was　the　woman　soldier。　She　was　moving　all　the　sleeping　people　out。　He　followed　the　crowd　to　find　two　canvas…covered　army　trucks　and　crawled　in　the　back　of　one。
　Luis　watched　out　the　back　of　the　truck　as　he　left　his　neighborhood　behind。　Bodies　lay　here　and　there　in　the　streets；　some　wearing　t