p&c.thunderhead-第33部分

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　Then　his　eyes　fell　upon　the　single　folder　lying　in　the　center　of　the　desk。　GONZALES；　T。　was　written　along　one　side。　The　glossy　edge　of　a　black…and…white　picture　peeked　from　beneath　one　corner　of　the　folder。　Automatically；　he　reached　out　for　it。　
　〃I　wouldn't；〃　Martinez　said。　But　he　made　no　move　to　stop　him。　Skip　lifted　the　edge；　exposing　the　photograph；　then　froze　in　horror。　
　Teresa　was　lying　on　her　back；　one　leg　across　the　other；　left　hand　thrown　up　as　if　to　catch　an　errant　football。　At　least；　Skip　thought　it　was　Teresa；　because　he　recognized　the　room　as　their　old　kitchen：　his　mother's　ancient　stove　stood　in　the　top　right…hand　corner　of　the　picture。　
　Teresa　herself　was　less　recognizable。　Her　mouth　was　open；　but　the　cheeks　were　missing。　Through　gaps　in　the　ruined　flesh；　teeth　fillings　gleamed　hollowly　in　the　light　of　the　camera's　flash。　Even　in　the　black…and…white　photograph；　Skip　saw　that　the　skin　was　an　unnatural　mottled　shade。　Several　parts　of　Teresa　were　missing：　fingers；　a　breast；　the　meaty　part　of　a　thigh。　Small　black　marks　and　ragged　lines　dotted　her　body：　evidence　of　unhurried　sampling　by　animals　approaching　satiation。　Where　Teresa's　throat　had　once　been　was　now　just　emptiness；　a　ruined　cage　of　bone　and　gristle；　surrounded　by　ragged　flesh。　Congealed　blood　ran　away　in　a　horrific　river　toward　a　long　hole　in　the　scarred　floorboards。　Pattering　away　from　the　river　of　blood　were　countless　small　marks　Skip　realized　were　paw　prints。　
　〃Dogs；〃　Martinez　said；　gently　removing　Skip's　hand　and　closing　the　folder。　
　Skip's　mouth　worked　soundlessly　for　a　moment。　〃I'm　sorry？〃　he　croaked。　
　〃Stray　dogs　had　been　working　on　her　body　for　a　day　or　so。〃　
　〃Was　she　killed　by　dogs？〃　
　〃We　thought　so　at　first。　Her　throat　had　been　torn　out　with　a　large　bite　and　there　were　claw　and　bite　marks　over　the　body。　But　the　coroner's　initial　examination　found　definitive　evidence　that　it　was　a　homicide。〃　
　Skip　looked　at　him。　〃What　kind　of　evidence？〃　
　Martinez　rose　with　an　easy　affability　that　seemed　incongruous　with　his　words。　〃An　unusual　kind　of　mutilation　to　the　fingers　and　toes；　among　other　things。　We'll　know　a　lot　more　when　the　autopsy　is　pleted　this　afternoon。　Meantime；　please　do　three　things　for　me。　Keep　this　to　yourself。　Don't　go　near　the　farmhouse。　And　most　important　of　all：　stay　where　we　can　find　you。〃　
　He　ushered　Skip　out　of　the　room　and　down　the　hall　without　another　word。　
　
　
22
　
　AT　BREAKFAST　THE　NEXT　MORNING；　THE　expedition　was　uncharacteristically　silent。　Nora　felt　a　mood　of　doubt。　All　too　clearly；　Black's　ments　from　the　night　before　had　made　their　mark。　
　They　proceeded　northwest；　up　a　harsh；　brutal　canyon　destitute　of　vegetation。　Even　at　the　early　hour；　heat　was　rising　from　the　split　rocks；　making　them　look　airy　and　insubstantial。　The　unwatered　horses　were　irritable　and　difficult　to　control。　
　As　they　continued；　the　canyon　system　grew　increasingly　plex；　branching　and　rebranching　into　a　twisted　maze。　It　continued　to　be　impossible　to　get　a　GPS　reading　from　the　canyon　floor；　and　the　cliffs　were　so　sheer　that　Sloane　could　not　have　climbed　to　the　top　to　take　a　reading　without　putting　herself　in　danger。　Nora　found　she　was　spending　as　much　time　consulting　the　map　as　traveling。　Several　times　they　were　forced　to　backtrack　out　of　a　blind　canyon；　other　times；　the　expedition　had　to　wait　while　Nora　and　Sloane　scouted　ahead　to　find　a　route。　Black　was　uncharacteristically　silent；　his　face　sick　with　a　bination　of　fear　and　anger。　
　Nora　struggled　with　her　own　doubts。　Had　her　father　really　gone　this　far？　Had　they　taken　a　wrong　turn　somewhere？　A　few　swales　and　scatterings　of　charcoal　were　visible　here　and　there；　but　so　faint　and　infrequent　as　to　be　background　noise；　they　could　easily　be　the　result　of　wildfires。　There　was　a　new　thought　now　she　barely　dared　to　consider：　what　if　her　father　had　been　delirious　when　he　wrote　the　letter？　It　seemed　impossible　for　anyone　to　have　successfully　navigated　this　labyrinth。　
　At　other　times；　she　thought　about　the　broken　skull　and　dried　blood；　and　what　it　could　possibly　mean。　In　her　mind；　Pete's　Ruin　had　changed　from　an　unremarkable　set　of　roomblocks　to　a　dark；　unnerving　little　mystery。　
　By　midmorning；　the　canyon　had　ended　in　a　sudden　puzzle　of　hoodoo　rocks。　They　squeezed　through　an　opening　and　topped　out　in　a　broken　valley；　peppered　with　scrub　junipers。　As　she　went　over　the　rise；　Nora　glanced　to　the　right。　She　could　see　the　Kaiparowits　Plateau　as　a　high；　dark　line　against　the　horizon。　
　Then　she　faced　forward；　and　the　vista　she　saw　both　horrified　and　elated　her。　
　On　the　far　side　of　the　valley；　raked　by　the　morning　sun；　rose　what　could　only　be　the　Devil's　Backbone：　the　hogback　ridge　she　had　been　anticipating　and　dreading　since　they　first　set　out。　It　was　a　giant；　irregular　fin　of　sandstone　at　least　a　thousand　feet　high　and　many　miles　long；　pocked　with　vesicles　and　windblown　holes；　riven　with　vertical　fractures　and　slots。　The　top　was　notched　like　a　dinosaur's　back。　It　was　hideous　in　its　beauty。　
　Nora　led　the　group　over　to　the　shade　of　a　large　rock；　where　they　dismounted。　She　stepped　aside　with　Swire。　
　〃Let's　see　if　we　can　scout　a　trail　up　it　first；〃　Nora　said。　〃It　looks　pretty　tough。〃　
　For　a　moment；　Swire　didn't　answer。　〃From　here；　I　wouldn't　exactly　call　it　tough；〃　he　said。　〃I'd　call　it　impossible。〃　
　〃My　father　made　it　over　with　his　two　horses。〃　
　〃So　you　said。〃　Swire　spat　a　thin　stream　of　tobacco　juice。　〃Then　again；　this　ain't　the　only　ridge　around　here。〃　
　〃It's　a　fault…block　cuesta；〃　said　Black；　who　had　been　listening。　〃It　outcrops　for　at　least　a　hundred　miles。　Your　father's　so…called　ridge　could　be　anywhere　along　there。〃　
　〃This　is　the　right　one；〃　Nora　said　a　little　more　slowly；　trying　to　keep　the　tone　of　doubt　out　of　her　voice。　
　Swire　shook　his　head　and　began　to　roll　a　smoke。　〃I'll　tell　you　one　thing。　I　want　to　see　the　trail　with　my　own　eyes　before　I　take　any　horses　up　it。〃　
　〃Fair　enough；〃　Nora　replied。　〃Let's　go　find　it。　Sloane；　keep　an　eye　on　things　until　we　get　back。〃　
　〃Sure　thing；〃　came　the　contralto　drawl。　
　The　two　hiked　north　along　the　base　of　the　ridge；　looking　for　a　notch　or　break　in　the　smooth　rock　that　might　signal　the　beginnings　of　a　trail。　After　half　a　mile；　they　came　across　some　shallow　caves。　Nora　noticed　that　several　had　ancient　smudges　of　black　smoke　on　their　ceilings。　
　〃Anasazi　lived　here；〃　she　said。　
　〃Pretty　miserable　little　caves。〃　
　〃These　were　probably　temporary　dwellings；〃　Nora　replied。　〃Perhaps　they　farmed　these　canyon　bottoms。〃　
　〃Must've　been　farming　cholla；〃　Swire　muttered　laconically。　
　As　they　continued　northward；　the　dry　creek　split　into　several　tributaries；　separated　by　jumbled　piles　of　stone　and　small　outcrops。　It　was　a　weird　landscape；　unfinished；　as　if　God　had　simply　given　up　trying　to　impose　order　on　the　unruly　rocks。　
　Suddenly；　Nora　parted　some　salt　cedars　and　stopped　dead。　Swire　came　up；　breathing　hard。　
　〃Look　at　this；〃　she　breathed。　
　A　series　of　petroglyphs　had　been　pecked　through　the　desert　varnish　that　streaked　the　cliff　face；　exposing　lighter　rock　underneath。　Nora　knelt；　examining　the　drawings　more　closely。　They　were　plex　and　beautiful：　a　mountain　lion；　a　curious　pattern　of　dots　with　a　small　foot；　a　star　inside　the　moon　inside　the　sun；　and　a　detailed　image　of　Kokopelli；　the　humpbacked　flute　player；　believed　to　be　the　god　of　fertility。　As　usual；　Kokopelli　sported　an　enormous　erection。　The　panel　ended　with　another　plicated　grid　of　dots　overlain　by　a　huge　spiral；　which　Nora　noted　was　also　reversed；　like　the　ones　Sloane　had　seen　at　Pete's　Ruin。　
　Swire　grunted。　〃Wish　I　had　his　problem；〃　he　said；　nodding　at　Kokopelli。　
　〃No　you　don't；〃　Nora　replied。　〃One　Pueblo　Indian　story　claims　it　was　fifty　feet　long。〃　
　They　pushed　a　little　farther　through　the　cedars　and　stumbled　on　a　well…hidden　ravine：　a　crevasse　filled　with　loose　rock　that　slanted　diagonally　across　the　sandstone　monolith。　It　was　steep　and　narrow；　and　it　rose　up　the　dizzying　face　and　disappeared。　The　trail　had　a　raised　lip　of　rock　along　its　outer　edge　that　had　the　uncanny　effect　of　causing　most　of　it　to　disappear　into　the　smooth　sandstone　from　only　several　paces　off。　
　〃I've　never　seen　anything　so　well　hidden；〃　Nora　said。　〃This　has　to　be　our　trail。〃　
　〃Hope　not。〃　
　She　started　up　the　narrow　crevasse；　Swire　behind　her；　scrambling　over　the　rocks　that　filled　its　bottom。　About　halfway　up　it　ended　in　a　badly　eroded　path　cut　diagonally　into　the　naked　sandstone。　It　was　less　than　three　feet　wide；　one　side　a　sheer　face　of　rock；　the　other　dropping　off　into　terrifying　blue　space。　As　Nora　stepped　near　the　edge；　some　pebbles　dislodged　by　her　foot　rolled　down　the　rock　and　off　the　edge；　sailing　down；　Nora　listened　but　could　not　hear　their　eventual　landing。　She　knelt。　〃This　is　definitely　an　ancient　trail；〃　she　said；　as　she　examined　eroded　cut　marks　made　by　prehistoric　quartzite　tools。　
　〃It　sure　wasn't　built　for　horses；〃　Swire　said。　
　〃The　Anasazi　didn't　have　horses。〃　
　〃We　do；〃　came　the　curt　reply。　
　They　moved　carefully　forward。　In　places；　the　cut　path　had　peeled　away　from　the　sloping　cliff　face；　forcing　them　to　take　a　harrowing　step　across　vacant　space。　At　one　of　these　places　Nora　glanced　down　and　saw　a　tumble　of　rocks　more　than　f