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第85章

jefflong.yearzero-第85章

小说: jefflong.yearzero 字数: 每页4000字

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amos's intelligence department pored over aerial images; but there was no defined center to the mob; no hub to the reeling mass of people。 For whatever reason; the leader chose to remain concealed and unnamed; operating out of sight; a mystery。 They went on searching。 If only he would present himself; the city would gladly…eagerly…formalize their coexistence。 They would offer to increase the humanitarian food shipments。 In return; the leaders of the siege would surely agree to a treaty recognizing the river border and cementing the peace。
 Nathan Lee thought differently。 He looked at that long row of crosses made of wood; wood that could have been burned by freezing people; but was not。 He saw a horde led by an idea; not leaders。 He doubted anyone spoke for them。 They were kept in check; not by reason; but by a shared emotion。 They were a pool of raw fuel waiting to be lit。
 And still the generals did nothing。
  
 ONDECEMBER14; the remote cams carried a savage new picture of the camp。 Overnight a dozen of the riverside crosses had e to bear living men。 The men shifted in pain on the crosses; their arms roped to the cross beams; some in ragged Fruit of the Looms; others naked。
 The emergency council was stunned。 The esteemed Baptist minister with his bushy white sideburns was speechless。
 〃Are they criminals?〃 someone asked。 〃It must be。 They're being punished for breaking the law。 They have laws。 They have punishment。 That's good。〃
 Nathan Lee got closer to the TV and saw little platforms for the crucified to stand on。 〃They'repenitentes;〃 he told them。
 Even as they watched; a few replacements were boosted up to take their turns on the crosses。 The 〃crucified〃 men pulled their arms from the ropes and got down。 Again Los Alamos found a fortable logic。 〃They're nothing but stunt men;〃 a council member mented。
 〃How can they stand the cold?〃 someone remarked。 〃I can almost feel the splinters。〃
 〃What will it lead to?〃 a woman asked。
 〃It's harmless;〃 her neighbor said。
 〃It's violent。 Even if it's violence to themselves。〃
 〃It's only theater;〃 a sociologist pronounced。 〃Their suffering is a form of entertainment。 The crosses are a stage。〃
 Nathan Lee disagreed; but kept it to himself。 Couldn't they see that the occupied crosses faced Los Alamos? The encampment was sending the city a message in flesh。
 The radical few became many。 In the warmer hours of midday; all of the crosses along the river came to be inhabited。 Nathan Lee was reminded of accounts of the aftermath of Spartacus's slave revolt and the Jews' rebellion in Jerusalem。 Men writhed on crosses perched among tents and wrecked cars。 Families wept at their feet。 Smoke drifted up in mean curls。
  
 MAYBE ESCAPEwas his natural condition。 With every passing hour; Nathan Lee imagined the footsteps of fresh plague victims joining the siege; sealing off the valley。 It seemed increasingly unlikely the city could ever be evacuated to the WIPP sanctuary; which he shunned anyway。 He kept looking west。 The headless volcano beckoned。 The temptations came on the afternoon breeze。Take your love; they whispered;flee into the desert。
 There were hundreds of Anasazi cave dwellings in the Four Corners region。 With the Captain's help; he'd plotted them on a map。 He could flee with Miranda; hole up; outwait the fanatics streaming toward Los Alamos; and then run loose through the world with what was left of their time。 It would mean betraying her father; to whom he'd promised to deliver Miranda; or trying to betray him。 Nathan Lee took it for granted that Paul Abbot had his every move under the tightest surveillance。 He was more of a prisoner than the prisoners in Miranda's basement。 Even if he could escape Los Alamos; Miranda would never agree to leave with him。 Her devotion to the city…her utter faith in it…baffled and frustrated him。 She acted as if she'd been born here。
 And so; for now; Nathan Lee resigned himself。 He did the next best thing to making his own escape。 He devised the clones' escape。
 The notion gratified him。 He despised what had been done to them。 They and their sacrificed brothers had been used a thousand different ways by Los Alamos; from serving as lab subjects to titillating the city's mystical itch。 Now they could be used one final time; as his surrogate for breaking free。
 〃I'm thinking the boys should get turned loose;〃 he announced to the Captain in the quiet of one afternoon。 They were watching the yard over cameras。 Over the weeks; the prisoners had slowly begun to trickle up from their cells and brave the sun again。 Ben was the stalwart; first every morning; last at dusk; walking; feeding the fire; walking; walking; getting those muscles ready。 Nathan Lee could see his mind at work。 Ben had not missed a day。 For weeks he'd had the place to himself。 Now it was inhabited again。 The burnt sacrifices of birds and squirrels resumed; though the season was getting cold and they'd largely hunted the place out。
 At the moment; Ben was walking the wall circuit。 Big; loping strides carried him around the yard。 Men followed behind; the earnest ones matching his pace; the slower ones yakking away。
 By the fire; Eesho was holding forth about the ing armageddon。 It had been over a month since Ochs had kowtowed to him; but the encounter continued to whet his appetite for disciples。 Borrowing from Revelation and from the War Scroll of the Dead Sea Scrolls; he had patched together a hybrid parable about a giant demon; one of the Sons of Darkness; begging him for forgiveness; and a queen of the dead; a woman with green eyes and hair like red gold whose name was Miranda; and her slaves; who were Nathan Lee and Izzy。 Each day his sermons became a little bolder and more intricate。
 〃About time someone brought that up;〃 the Captain replied。
 Nathan Lee was surprised。 〃Then you're not opposed to them going free?〃
 〃I wouldn't treat a dog the way we've had to treat those men。〃
 Nathan Lee was astonished。 〃But you're their keeper;〃 he protested。
 〃Better me than most;〃 said the Captain。 〃Anyhow; I had this hunch someone like you might show up。 And then it would need someone like me to be where I am; doing what I'm doing; who could nod his head yes。〃
 Nathan Lee guessed that was one way to view the universe。 〃You're going to let them go?〃 he reiterated。
 〃Not yet。 And not me;〃 said the Captain。 〃But when the time's right; I'm all for you。〃
 〃Well; all right then;〃 Nathan Lee said; trying to believe his luck。 〃So when is the right time?〃
 As it developed; the Captain had put a great deal of thought to it already。 For the next several hours; they might as well have been discussing the release of zoo animals into the wilderness。 The clones were too wild; and at the same time too tame。 They were dangerous; but habituated。 They couldn't be freed anywhere close to the city; or they might try to return and prey upon it。 Sending them down to the pilgrim camp would be like throwing them into quicksand。 It was a pit of despair and deprivations down along the river。 If the deck sweeps had not been called off; they could have been transferred by helicopter to some distant place; but now that wasn't an option either。 After Miranda's directive shutting down human experimentation; Los Alamos had ceased the harvesting of cities; which were probably finished anyway。
 Their release; in short; would have to wait until E…Day; their fabled evacuation date。 Nathan Lee worried that if and when that day ever arrived; there would be so much chaos the guards might forget to open the cells。 In crossing America; he had heard stories of prisons and zoos filled with the carcasses of captives who had starved to death。 The Captain took the job of programming the cell doors to automatically open an hour after the city emptied。
 In the meantime; Nathan Lee wanted to prepare the clones for alien times。 They knew how to quarry limestone; sow wheat; work leather; smith iron; and herd goats。 But survival in the ruins of America was going to require different skills。 One can of spoiled food could wipe them out with botulism。 One wrong highway could land them in the Canadian winter。 The cities might be dead; but they were still mechanically alive; and deadly。 The cl

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