p&c.thunderhead-第87部分

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　she　slid　down　onto　the　safety　of　the　shelf。　
　One　more　ladder。　Steadying　herself；　she　reached　for　it；　tested　it。　Then；　as　carefully　as　before；　she　descended　first　one　notch；　then　another；　and　then　another。　
　Suddenly；　she　felt　the　pole　give　with　a　dry　crack。　The　entire　wooden　structure　seemed　to　shudder　around　her。　Immediately；　she　pushed　herself　away　from　the　pole　and　dropped　the　last　ten　feet；　hitting　the　stone　floor　with　a　mighty　impact。　Needles　of　pain　lanced　through　her　knees　and　ankles　as　she　scrambled　to　her　feet　and　stumbled　through　the　low　doorway　onto　the　adjacent　rooftop。　She　glanced　around；　shaking　with　exertion　and　fear。　But　there　was　nothing：　the　city　seemed　perfectly　silent　and　deserted。　
　She　had　to　get　to　the　valley。　At　least　there；　she　might　have　a　chance。　Perhaps　Sloane　had　been　wrong。　Perhaps　Swire　and　Bonarotti　were　still　alive。　If　she　could　hide　until　daylight；　she'd　have　a　better　chance　of　finding　them。　There　was　safety　in　numbers。　She　might　even　be　able　to　locate　Sloane's　gun；　lying　somewhere　in　the　darkness　of　the　valley　floor。　And　there　was　always　the　hope；　remote　as　it　was；　that　Smithback's　gunshot　wound　was　not　fatal　。　。　。　
　Nora　brushed　her　hand　across　her　face　with　a　sob。　She　could　not　allow　herself　to　think　about　that；　not　now。　
　Keeping　as　low　as　possible；　she　crept　across　the　roof　and　peered　down　the　ladder　that　leaned　against　it。　The　way　below　seemed　clear。　Swinging　herself　over　the　edge；　she　descended　as　quickly　as　she　dared；　then　paused　to　look　around。　Nothing。　
　She　paused　once　again。　The　city　seemed　silent　and　asleep。　The　moon；　alternately　emerging　from　and　disappearing　behind　the　racing　clouds；　painted　uncertain　fingers　of　light　across　the　roomblocks。　And　yet　her　instincts　told　her　that　something　was　wrong。　
　Cautiously；　keeping　against　the　wall　of　the　tower；　she　moved　around　toward　the　front　of　the　city　and　peeked　around　the　corner。　One　at　a　time；　objects　came　into　view；　lit　by　the　fitful　glow　of　the　moon：　the　retaining　wall；　the　central　plaza；　the　ghostly　outline　of　roomblocks。　
　Once　again；　a　sense　of　imminent　danger　washed　over　her。　And　this　time　she　realized　what　it　was：　borne　on　the　fitful　midnight　wind　came　the　faint　scent　of　morning　glories。　
　Almost　without　knowing　what　she　was　doing；　she　fell　back；　away　from　the　tower　and　into　the　darkness　along　the　edge　of　the　city。　She　found　herself　running　with　a　reckless　speed；　heedless　of　obstacles。　There　was　no　plan　in　her　mind。　She　felt　simply　an　animal　panic　to　get　away：　to　race　for　the　deepest；　most　secret　place　she　could　find。　
　Dark　alleys；　low　mounds　of　rubble；　angular　adobe　structures　flashed　by　in　the　faint　moonlight　as　she　ran。　Suddenly；　she　caught　herself　short。　To　the　right　were　the　squat；　low　forms　of　the　granaries。　And　directly　before　her；　its　low　maw　a　rectangle　of　deeper　darkness；　was　the　entrance　to　the　Crawlspace。　Inside；　she　knew；　the　blackness　would　be　plete。　There　might　be　a　hiding　place　in　there；　perhaps　inside　the　roomblocks　of　the　secret　city　itself。　
　She　began　to　move　forward；　then　stopped。　Pursuer　or　no；　she　would　not　allow　herself　to　enter　the　Crawlspace；　and　its　lethal　payload　of　dust；　ever　again。　
　Instead；　she　turned　and　dashed　into　the　alley　alongside　the　granaries。　Halfway　down　the　alley's　gentle　curve；　she　stopped　at　a　notched　pole　ladder；　leaning　against　the　rearward　set　of　roomblocks。　Grasping　at　the　dry　wood；　she　climbed　as　quietly　as　she　could　to　the　second…floor　setback。　Stepping　onto　the　roof；　she　pulled　the　ladder　up　behind　her。　At　least　that　would　slow　the　skinwalker　down；　buy　her　a　few　more　seconds　of　time。　
　She　shook　her　head；　forcing　the　panic　away；　trying　to　keep　her　thoughts　clear。　The　clouds　moved　once　again　over　the　moon。　Only　the　river　spoke。　Quivira　was　silent；　watching；　under　a　shroud　of　darkness。　
　She　moved　across　the　rearward　set　of　roofs；　past　a　long　row　of　keyhole　doorways。　Bats　flitted　from　the　recesses　of　the　city；　flicking　through　the　shadows　on　their　way　to　the　valley。　Except　for　a　few　central　roomblocks　that　ran　from　the　front　of　the　city　to　the　back；　most　of　the　buildings　were　cul…de…sacs。　She　thought　of　hiding　inside　one　of　the　roomblocks；　then　quickly　dismissed　the　idea；　out　here；　in　the　city　proper；　it　would　only　be　a　matter　of　time　until　she　was　hunted　down。　Better　to　keep　moving；　to　wait　for　an　opportunity　to　descend　into　the　valley。　
　She　crept　along　the　row　of　open　doorways；　then　paused　at　the　corner　of　the　roomblock；　listening。　
　A　sudden　footfall　invaded　the　darkness。　Nora　looked　around　wildly；　with　the　sound　of　the　river　echoing　through　the　vault；　it　was　almost　impossible　to　tell　where　the　sound　had　e　from。　Had　the　skinwalker　followed　her　around　to　the　granaries；　and　was　it　even　now　slipping　up　behind？　Or　was　it　lying　in　wait　somewhere　in　the　plaza；　biding　its　time　until　she　crept　toward　the　rope　ladder？　
　There　was　another　noise；　not　as　faint　as　the　last。　It　seemed…she　thought…to　have　e　from　below。　Dropping　to　her　stomach；　Nora　crawled　to　the　side　of　the　roof；　and　cautiously　peered　over　the　edge　into　the　pool　of　darkness。　Empty。　
　She　rose　to　her　feet；　the　smell　of　flowers　stronger　now：　overripe；　sickly　sweet。　Her　heart　was　hammering　violently　in　her　chest。　She　backed　away　from　the　parapet；　and　as　she　did　so　she　heard　the　rattling　sound　of　the　pole　ladder　being　placed　against　its　flanks。　Quickly；　she　ducked　into　the　nearest　set　of　roomblocks。　
　She　pressed　herself　against　the　wall；　gasping　for　breath。　Whatever　she　did；　wherever　she　went；　she　was　at　a　disadvantage。　The　skinwalker　was　faster　than　she　was；　and　far　stronger。　It　was　at　home　in　the　dark。　She　realized　that　it　would　never　allow　her　to　escape　from　the　valley。　
　There　was　only　one　possibility。　She　had　to　even　the　playing　field；　to　minimize　the　threat。　And　that　meant　finding　a　weapon。　
　Inside；　the　room　was　still　and　cool。　Nora　glanced　quickly　around。　A　pile　of　war　god　masks　stood　in　one　corner；　crimson　mouths　twisted　and　leering　in　the　faint　moonlight。　The　air　smelled　of　pack　rats　and　mold。　She　crept　through　the　next　doorway　into　another　room；　darker　than　the　first；　feeling　along　the　walls；　letting　her　memory　of　the　place　guide　her　steps。　
　Cautiously；　she　felt　her　way　into　the　third　room。　A　shaft　of　pale　light　came　through　a　crack　in　the　roof；　and　there　they　were：　a　stack　of　fire…hardened　wooden　spears；　ending　in　razor…sharp　obsidian　tips。　She　hefted　a　few；　selected　the　two　lightest；　and　moved　out　of　the　room　into　a　narrow　passageway。　
　She　felt　her　way　along　the　wall；　moving　toward　the　next　room　in　the　block。　Her　memory　of　the　location　of　the　spears　had　been　more　or　less　correct；　she　also　recalled　that　this　system　of　rooms　had　an　entrance　at　the　front　as　well　as　the　back。　But　there　were　many　hundreds　of　rooms　in　Quivira；　and　she　could　not　be　certain。　
　Locating　the　doorframe；　she　ducked　into　the　next　room。　Here；　gray　light　filtered　from　the　far　doorway。　With　a　small　glimmer　of　relief；　Nora　realized　she　must　be　close　to　the　front　of　the　structure。　She　moved　into　the　darkest　corner　and　waited；　listening。　
　By　now；　the　skinwalker　would　have　followed　her　into　the　roomblocks。　Nora　rested　the　spear　on　her　shoulder。　It　felt　puny；　insubstantial；　in　her　sweaty　fist。　Perhaps　it　was　the　height　of　folly　for　her　to　think　she　could　do　anything　to　save　herself。　But　the　only　other　option　was　to　do　nothing；　to　wait　in　terror　for　the　inevitable　end。　And　she　knew　that…however　quick　and　strong　the　skinwalkers　were…they　were　also　mortal。　
　She　tensed　at　the　faint　sound　of　a　footfall　in　the　room　beyond。　The　sound　of　the　river　was　muffled　here；　inside　the　roomblocks；　and　she　strained　to　listen。　There　was　another　faint　noise。　The　reek　of　flowers　grew　overpowering。　Struggling　to　keep　her　wits　about　her；　Nora　raised　the　spear。　A　shadow；　black　upon　black；　seemed　to　fill　the　doorway。　With　an　involuntary　shout；　she　heaved　the　spear　with　all　the　strength　she　could　muster。　Immediately；　she　jumped　away；　running　through　the　far　door　into　the　last　room　of　the　block。　There　had　been　no　sound；　no　cry；　but　she　thought　she　had　heard　the　deep；　flat　sound　of　the　spear　sinking　into　flesh。　
　She　stumbled　forward；　out　the　doorway　and　onto　the　flat　roof　along　the　front　of　the　structure。　Not　daring　to　pause　for　a　breath；　she　glanced　about　for　a　way　down。　
　There　was　a　sudden　scrabbling　sound　behind　her；　then　a　heavy　weight　fell　across　her　back；　forcing　her　violently　to　the　ground。　Crying　out　in　pain　and　surprise；　she　tried　to　struggle　away。　A　heavy　pelt　of　fur；　dank　with　sweat　and　the　ghastly　stench　of　rotting　flowers；　fell　across　her　face。　She　looked　up　to　see　the　masked　head　rear　back　over　her；　spear　bobbing　from　one　shoulder。　An　arm　raised　up；　obsidian　knife　flashing。　
　With　a　tremendous　effort　she　pulled　herself　to　one　side。　There　was　a　searing　pain　in　her　calf　as　the　knife　struck　a　glancing　blow。　Without　pausing；　she　tumbled　headfirst　off　the　roof　of　the　roomblock。　Landing　in　a　pile　of　sand；　she　scrambled　to　her　feet　and　ran　into　the　protective　shadow　of　the　first…floor　blocks。　She　was　aware　that　she　whimpered　as　she　moved。　Her　leg　throbbed；　and　she　could　feel　the　wet　gush　of　blood　running　down　around　her　ankle。　
　From　behind　came　a　heavy　thump；　as　of　a　large　body　leaping　to　the　ground。　She　ducked　in