2 new+moon新月-第11部分

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havefun？〃　

〃Sure；〃　I　said。　〃We　watched　zombies　eat　people。　It　was　great。〃　

His　eyes　narrowed。　

〃'Night；　Dad。〃　

He　let　me　pass。　I　hurried　to　my　room。　

I　lay　in　my　bed　a　few　minutes　later；　resigned　as　the　pain　finally　made　its　appearance。　

It　was　a　crippling　thing；　this　sensation　that　a　huge　hole　had　been　punched　through　my　chest；　excising　my　
most　vital　organs　and　leaving　ragged；　unhealed　gashes　around　the　edges　that　continued　to　throb　and　
bleed　despite　the　passage　of　time。　Rationally；　I　knew　my　lungs　must　still　be　intact；　yet　I　gasped　for　air　and　
my　head　spun　like　my　efforts　yielded　me　nothing。　My　heart　must　have　been　beating；　too；　but　I　couldn't　
hear　the　sound　of　my　pulse　in　my　ears；　my　hands　felt　blue　with　cold。　I　curled　inward；　hugging　my　ribs　to　
hold　myself　together。　I　scrambled　for　my　numbness；　my　denial；　but　it　evaded　me。　

And　yet；　I　found　I　could　survive。　I　was　alert；　I　felt　the　pain—the　aching　loss　that　radiated　out　from　my　
chest；　sending　wracking　waves　of　hurt　through　my　limbs　and　head—but　it　was　manageable。　I　could　live　
through　it。　It　didn't　feel　like　the　pain　had　weakened　over　time；　rather　that　I'd　grown　strong　enough　to　bear　
it。　

Whatever　it　was　that　had　happened　tonight—and　whether　it　was　the　zombies；　the　adrenaline；　or　the　
hallucinations　that　were　responsible—it　had　woken　me　up。　

For　the　first　time　in　a　long　time；　I　didn't　know　what　to　expect　in　the　morning。　

5。　CHEATER　




〃BELLA；　WHY　DON'T　YOU　TAKE　OFF；〃　MIKE　SUGGESTED；　his　eyes　focused　off　to　the　side；　not　
really　looking　at　me。　I　wondered　how　long　that　had　been　going　on　without　me　noticing。　

It　was　a　slow　afternoon　at　Newton's。　At　the　moment　there　were　only　two　patrons　in　the　store；　dedicated　
backpackers　from　the　sound　of　their　conversation。　Mike　had　spent　the　last　hour　going　through　the　pros　
and　cons　of　two　brands　of　lightweight　packs　with　them。　But　they'd　taken　a　break　from　serious　pricing　to　
indulge　in　trying　to　oneup　each　other　with　their　latest　tales　from　the　trail。　Their　distraction　had　given　Mike　
a　chance　to　escape。　

〃I　don't　mind　staying；〃　I　said。　I　still　hadn't　been　able　to　sink　back　into　my　protective　shell　of　numbness；　
and　everything　seemed　oddly　close　and　loud　today；　like　I'd　taken　cotton　out　of　my　ears。　I　tried　to　tune　
out　the　laughing　hikers　without　success。　

〃I'm　telling　you；〃　said　the　thickset　man　with　the　orange　beard　that　didn't　match　his　dark　brown　hair。　〃I've　
seen　grizzlies　pretty　close　up　in　Yellowstone；　but　they　had　nothing　on　this　brute。〃　His　hair　was　matted；　
and　his　clothes　looked　like　they'd　been　on　his　back　for　more　than　a　few　days。　Fresh　from　the　mountains。　

〃Not　a　chance。　Black　bears　don't　get　that　big。　The　grizzlies　you　saw　were　probably　cubs。〃　The　second　
man　was　tall　and　lean；　his　face　tanned　and　windwhipped　into　an　impressive　leathery　crust。　

〃Seriously；　Bella；　as　soon　as　these　two　give　up；　I'm　closing　the　place　down；〃　Mike　murmured。　

〃If　you　want　me　to　go…〃　I　shrugged。　

〃On　all　fours　it　was　taller　than　you；〃　the　bearded　man　insisted　while　I　gathered　my　things　together。　〃Big　as　
a　house　and　pitchblack。　I'm　going　to　report　it　to　the　ranger　here。　People　ought　to　be　warned—this　
wasn't　up　on　the　mountain；　mind　you—this　was　only　a　few　miles　from　the　trailhead。〃　

Leatherface　laughed　and　rolled　his　eyes。　〃Let　me　guess—you　were　on　your　way　in？　Hadn't　eaten　real　
food　or　slept　off　the　ground　in　a　week；　right？〃　

〃Hey；　uh；　Mike；　right？〃　the　bearded　man　called；　looking　toward　us。　

〃See　you　Monday；〃　I　mumbled。　

〃Yes；　sir；〃　Mike　replied；　turning　away。　

〃Say；　have　there　been　any　warnings　around　here　recently—about　black　bears？〃　

〃No；　sir。　But　it's　always　good　to　keep　your　distance　and　store　your　food　correctly。　Have　you　seen　the　
new　bearsafe　canisters？　They　only　weigh　two　pounds…〃　

The　doors　slid　open　to　let　me　out　into　the　rain。　I　hunched　over　inside　my　jacket　as　I　dashed　for　my　truck。　
The　rain　hammering　against　my　hood　sounded　unusually　loud；　too；　but　soon　the　roar　of　the　engine　
drowned　out　everything　else。　

I　didn't　want　to　go　back　to　Charlie's　empty　house。　Last　night　had　been　particularly　brutal；　and　I　had　no　
desire　to　revisit　the　scene　of　the　suffering。　Even　after　the　pain　had　subsided　enough　for　me　to　sleep；　it　
wasn't　over。　Like　I'd　told　Jessica　after　the　movie；　there　was　never　any　doubt　that　I　would　have　
nightmares。　

I　always　had　nightmares　now；　every　night。　Not　nightmares　really；　not　in　the　plural；　because　it　was　always　
the　same　nightmare。　You'd　think　I'd　get　bored　after　so　many　months；　grow　immune　to　it。　But　the　dream　
never　failed　to　horrify　me；　and　only　ended　when　I　woke　myself　with　screaming。　Charlie　didn't　e　in　to　
see　what　was　wrong　anymore；　to　make　sure　there　was　no　intruder　strangling　me　or　something　like　
that—he　was　used　to　it　now。　

My　nightmare　probably　wouldn't　even　frighten　someone　else。　Nothing　jumped　out　and　screamed；　〃Boo！〃　
There　were　no　zombies；　no　ghosts；　no　psychopaths。　There　was　nothing；　really。　Only　nothing。　Just　the　
endless　maze　of　mosscovered　trees；　so　quiet　that　the　silence　was　an　unfortable　pressure　against　my　
eardrums。　It　was　dark；　like　dusk　on　a　cloudy　day；　with　only　enough　light　to　see　that　there　was　nothing　to　
see。　I　hurried　through　the　gloom　without　a　path；　always　searching；　searching；　searching；　getting　more　
frantic　as　the　time　stretched　on；　trying　to　move　faster；　though　the　speed　made　me　clumsy…　Then　there　
would　e　the　point　in　my　dream—and　I　could　feel　it　ing　now；　but　could　never　seem　to　wake　
myself　up　before　it　hit—when　I　couldn't　remember　what　it　was　that　I　was　searching　for。　When　I　realized　
that　there　was　nothing　to　search　for；　and　nothing　to　find。　That　there　never　had　been　anything　more　than　
just　this　empty；　dreary　wood；　and　there　never　would　be　anything　more　for　me…　nothing　but　nothing…　

That　was　usually　about　when　the　screaming　started。　

I　wasn't　paying　attention　to　where　I　was　driving—just　wandering　through　empty；　wet　side　roads　as　I　
avoided　the　ways　that　would　take　me　home—because　I　didn't　have　anywhere　to　go。　

I　wished　I　could　feel　numb　again；　but　I　couldn't　remember　how　I'd　managed　it　before。　The　nightmare　was　
nagging　at　my　mind　and　making　me　think　about　things　that　would　cause　me　pain。　I　didn't　want　to　
remember　the　forest。　Even　as　I　shuddered　away　from　the　images；　I　felt　my　eyes　fill　with　tears　and　the　

aching　begin　around　the　edges　of　the　hole　in　my　chest。　I　took　one　hand　from　the　steering　wheel　and　
wrapped　it　around　my　torso　to　hold　it　in　one　piece。　

It　will　be　as　if　I'd　never　existed。　The　words　ran　through　my　head；　lacking　the　perfect　clarity　of　my　
hallucination　last　night。　They　were　just　words；　soundless；　like　print　on　a　page。　Just　words；　but　they　ripped　
the　hole　wide　open；　and　I　stomped　on　the　brake；　knowing　I　should　not　drive　while　this　incapacitated。　

I　curled　over；　pressing　my　face　against　the　steering　wheel　and　trying　to　breathe　without　lungs。　

I　wondered　how　long　this　could　last。　Maybe　someday；　years　from　now—if　the　pain　would　just　decrease　
to　the　point　where　I　could　bear　it—I　would　be　able　to　look　back　on　those　few　short　months　that　would　
always　be　the　best　of　my　life。　And；　if　it　were　possible　that　the　pain　would　ever　soften　enough　to　allow　me　
to　do　that；　I　was　sure　that　I　would　feel　grateful　for　as　much　time　as　he'd　given　me。　More　than　I'd　asked　
for；　more　than　I'd　deserved。　Maybe　someday　I'd　be　able　to　see　it　that　way。　

But　what　if　this　hole　never　got　any　better？　If　the　raw　edges　never　healed？　If　the　damage　was　permanent　
and　irreversible？　

I　held　myself　tightly　together。　As　if　he'd　never　existed；　I　thought　in　despair。　What　a　stupid　and　
impossible　promise　to　make！　He　could　steal　my　pictures　and　reclaim　his　gifts；　but　that　didn't　put　things　
back　the　way　they'd　been　before　I'd　met　him。　The　physical　evidence　was　the　most　insignificant　part　of　the　
equation。　I　was　changed；　my　insides　altered　almost　past　the　point　of　recognition。　Even　my　outsides　
looked　different—my　face　sallow；　white　except　for　the　purple　circles　the　nightmares　had　left　under　my　
eyes。　My　eyes　were　dark　enough　against　my　pallid　skin　that—if　I　were　beautiful；　and　seen　from　a　
distance—I　might　even　pass　for　a　vampire　now。　But　I　was　not　beautiful；　and　I　probably　looked　closer　to　
a　zombie。　

As　if　he'd　never　existed？　That　was　insanity。　It　was　a　promise　that　he　could　never　keep；　a　promise　that　
was　broken　as　soon　as　he'd　made　it。　

I　thumped　my　head　against　the　steering　wheel；　trying　to　distract　myself　from　the　sharper　pain。　

It　made　me　feel　silly　for　ever　worrying　about　keeping　my　promise。　Where　was　the　logic　in　sticking　to　an　
agreement　that　had　already　been　violated　by　the　other　party？　Who　cared　if　I　was　reckless　and　stupid？　
There　was　no　reason　to　avoid　recklessness；　no　reason　why　I　shouldn't　get　to　be　stupid。　

I　laughed　humorlessly　to　myself；　still　gasping　for　air。　Reckless　in　Forks—now　there　was　a　hopeless　
proposition。　

The　dark　humor　distracted　me；　and　the　distraction　eased　the　pain。　My　breath　came　easier；　and　I　was　
able　to　lean　back　against　the　seat。　Though　it　was　cold　today；　my　forehead　was　damp　with　sweat。　

I　concentrated　on　my　hopeless　proposition　to　keep　from　sliding　back　into　the　excruciating　memories。　To　
be　reckless　in　Forks　would　take　a　lot　of　creativity—maybe　more　than　I　had。　But　I　wished　I　could　find　
some　way…　I　might　feel　better　if　I　weren't　holding　fast；　all　alone；　to　a　broken　pact。　If　I　were　an　
oathbreaker；　too。　But　how　could　I　cheat　on　my　side　of　the　deal；　here　in　this　harmless　little　town？　Of　
course；　Forks　hadn't　always　been　so　harmless；　but　now　it　was　exactly　what　it　had　always　appeared　to　
be。　It　was　dull；　it　was　safe。　

I　stared　out　the　windshield　for　a　long　moment；　my　thoughts　moving　sluggishly—I　couldn't　seem　to　make　
those　thoughts　go　anywhere。　I　cut　the　engine；　which　was　groaning　in　a　pitiful　way　after　idling　for　so　long；　
and　stepped　out　into　the　drizzle。　

The　cold　rain　dripped　through　my　hair　and　then　trickled　across　my　cheeks　like　freshwater　tears。　It　helped　
to　clear　my　head。　I　blinked　the　water　from　my　eyes；　staring　blankly　across　the　road。　

After　a　minute　of　staring；　I　recognized　where　I　was。　I'd　parked　in　the　middle　of　the　north　lane　of　Russell　
Avenue。　I　was　standing　in　front　of　the　Cheneys'　house—my　truck　was　blocking　their　driveway—and　
across　the　road　lived　the　Markses。　I　knew　I　needed　to　move　my　truck；　and　that　I　ought　to　go　home。　It　
was　wrong　to　wander　the　way　I　had；　distracted　and　impaired；　a　menace　on　the　roads　of　Forks。　Besides；　
someone　would　notice　me　soon　enough；　and　report　me　to　Charlie。　

As　I　took　a　deep　breath　in　preparation　to　move；　a　sign　in　the　Markses'　yard　caught　my　eye—it　was　just　a　
big　piece　of　cardboard　leaning　against　their　mailbox　post；　with　black　letters　scrawled　in　caps　across　it。　

Sometimes；　kismet　happens。　

Coincidence？　Or　was　it　meant　to　be？　I　didn't　know；　but　it　seemed　kind　of　silly　to　think　that　it　was　
somehow　fated；　that　the　dilapidated　motorcycles　rusting　in　the　Markses'　front　yard　beside　the　
handprinted　FOR　SALE；　AS　IS　sign　were　serving　some　higher　purpose　by　existing　there；　right　where　I　
needed　them　to　be。　

So　maybe　it　wasn't　kismet。　Maybe　there　were　just　all　kinds　of　ways　to　be　reckless；　and　I　only　now　had　
my　eyes　open　to　them。　

Reckless　and　stupid。　Those　were　Charlie's　two　very　favorite　words　to　apply　to　motorcycles。　

Charlie's　job　didn't　get　a　lot　of　action　pared　to　cops　in　bigger　towns；　but　he　did　get　called　in　on　traffic　
accidents。　With　the　long；　wet　stretches　of　freeway　twisting　and　turning　through　the　forest；　blind　corner　
after　blind　corner；　there　was　no　shortage　of　that　kind　of　action。　But　even　with　all　the　huge　loghaulers　
barreling　around　the　turns；　mostly　people　walked　away。　The　exceptions　to　that　rule　were　often　on　
motorcycles；　and　Charlie　had　seen　one　too　many　victims；　almost　always　kids；　smeared　on　the　highway。　
He'd　made　me　promise　before　I　was　ten　that　I　would　never　accept　a　ride　on　a　motorcycle。　Even　at　that　
age；　I　didn't　have　to　think　twice　before　promising。　Who　would　want　to　ride　a　motorcycle　here？　It　would　
be　like　taking　a　sixtymileperhour　bath。　

So　many　promises　I　kept…　

It　clicked　together　for　me　then。　I　wanted　to　be　stupid　and　reckless；　and　I　wanted　to　break　promises。　
Why　stop　at　one？　

That's　as　far　as　I　thought　it　through。　I　sloshed　through　the　rain　to　the　Markses'　front　door　and　rang　the　
bell。　

One　of　the　Marks　boys　opened　the　door；　the　younger　one；　the　freshman。　I　couldn't　remember　his　name。　
His　sandy　hair　only　came　up　to　my　shoulder。　

He　had　no　trouble　remembering　my　name。　〃Bella　Swan？〃　he　asked　in　surprise。　

〃How　much　do　you　want　for　the　bike？〃　I　panted；　jerking　my　thumb　over　my　shoulder　toward　the　sales　
display。　

〃Are　you　serious？〃　he　demanded。　

〃Of　course　I　am。〃　

〃They　don't　work。〃　

I　sighed　impatiently—this　was　something　I'd　already　inferred　from　the　sign。　〃How　much？〃　

〃If　you　really　want　one；　just　take　it。　My　mom　made　my　dad　move　them　down　to　the　road　so　they'd　get　
picked　up　with　the　garbage。〃　

I　glanced　at　the　bikes　again　and　saw　that　they　were　resting　on　a　pile　of　yard　clippings　and　dead　branches。　
〃Are　you　positive　about　that？〃　

〃Sure；　you　want　to　ask　her？〃　

It　was　probably　better　not　to　involve　adults　who　might　mention　this　to　Charlie。　

〃No；　I　believe　you。〃　

〃You　want　me　to　help　you？〃　he　offered。　〃They're　not　light。〃　

〃Okay；　thanks。　I　only　need　one；　though。〃　

〃Might　as　well　take　both；〃　the　boy　said。　〃Maybe　you　could　scavenge　some　parts。〃　

He　followed　me　out　into　the　downpour　and　helped　me　load　both　of　the　heavy　bikes　into　the　back　of　my　
truck。　He　seemed　eager　to　be　rid　of　them；　so　I　didn't　argue。　

〃What　are　you　going　to　do　with　them；　anyway？〃　he　asked。　〃They　haven't　worked　in　years。〃　

〃I　kind　of　guessed　that；〃　I　said；　shrugging。　My　spurofthemoment　whim　hadn't　e　with　a　plan　intact。　
〃Maybe　I'll　take　them　to　Dowling's。〃　

He　snorted。　〃Dowling　would　charge　more　to　fix　them　than　they'd　be　worth　running。〃　

I　couldn't　argue　with　that。　John　Dowling　had　earned　a　reputation　for　his　pricing；　no　one　went　to　him　
except　in　an　emergency。　Most　people　preferred　to　make　the　drive　up　to　Port　Angeles；　if　their　car　was　
able。　I'd　been　very　lucky　on　that　front—I'd　been　worried；　when　Charlie　first　gifted　me　my　ancient　truck；　
that　I　wouldn't　be　able　to　afford　to　keep　it　running。　But　I'd　never　had　a　single　problem　with　it；　other　than　
the　screamingloud　engine　and　the　fiftyfivemileperhour　maximum　speed　limit。　Jacob　Black　had　kept　it　
in　great　shape　when　it　had　belonged　to　his　father；　Billy…　

Inspiration　hit　like　a　bolt　of　lightning—not　unreasonable；　considering　the　storm。　〃You　know　what？　That's　
okay。　I　know　someone　who　builds　cars。〃　

〃Oh。　That's　good。〃　He　smiled　in　relief。　

He　waved　as　I　pulled　away；　still　smiling。　Friendly　kid。　

I　drove　quickly　and　purposefully　now；　in　a　hurry　to　get　home　before　there　was　the　slightest　chance　of　
Charlie　appearing；　even　in　the　highly　unlikely　event　that　he　might　knock　off　early。　I　dashed　through　the　
house　to　the　phone；　keys　still　in　hand。　

〃Chief　Swan；　please；〃　I　said　when　the　deputy　answered。　〃It's　Bella。〃　

〃Oh；　hey；　Bella；〃　Deputy　Steve　said　affably。　〃I'll　go　get　him。〃　

I　waited。　

〃W