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第48部分

[科幻]宿主-第48部分

小说: [科幻]宿主 字数: 每页4000字

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 Like a blade; light cut into our eyes。 We moaned at the pain of it; and our hand flew up to cover our 
closed eyes。 Even behind our lids; the light was too bright。 The light disappeared; and we felt the breath 
of the next sigh hit our face。

 We opened our eyes carefully; more blind than before。 Whoever faced us sat very still and said nothing。 
We began to feel the tension of the moment; but it felt far away; outside ourself。 It was hard to care 
about anything but the water in our belly and where we could find more。 We tried to concentrate; to see 
what had rescued us。

 The first thing we could make out; after minutes of blinking and squinting; was the thick whiteness that 
fell from the dark face; a million splinters of pale in the night。 When we grasped that this was a 
beard—like Santa Claus; we thought chaotically—the other pieces of the face were supplied by our 
memory。 Everything fit into place: the big cleft…tipped nose; the wide cheekbones; the thick white brows; 
the eyes set deep into the wrinkled fabric of skin。 Though we could see only hints of each feature; we 
knew how light would expose them。

 “Uncle Jeb;” we croaked in surprise。 “You found us。” 

 

 “Well; now;” he said; and his gruff voice brought back a hundred memories。 “Well; now; here’s a 
pickle。”

 CHAPTER 13

 Sentenced

 Are they here?” We choked out the words—they burst from us like the water in our lungs had; expelled。 
After water; this question was all that mattered。 “Did they make it?”

 Uncle Jeb’s face was impossible to read in the darkness。 “Who?” he asked。

 “Jamie; Jared!” Our whisper burned like a shout。 “Jared was with Jamie。 Our brother! Are they here? 
Did they e? Did you find them; too?”

 There was barely a pause。

 “No。” His answer was forceful; and there was no pity in it; no feeling at all。

 “No;” we whispered。 We were not echoing him; we were protesting against getting our life back。 What 
was the point? We closed our eyes again and listened to the pain in our body。 We let that drown out the 
pain in our mind。

 “Look;” Uncle Jeb said after a moment。 “I; uh; have something to take care of。 You rest for a bit; and 
I’ll be back for you。”

 We didn’t hear the meaning in his words; just the sounds。 Our eyes stayed closed。 His footsteps 
crunched quietly away from us。 We couldn’t tell which direction he went。 We didn’t care anyway。

 They were gone。 There was no way to find them; no hope。 Jared and Jamie had disappeared; something 
they knew well how to do; and we would never see them again。

 The water and the cooler night air were making us lucid; something we did not want。 We rolled over; to 
bury our face against the sand again。 We were so tired; past the point of exhaustion and into some 
deeper; more painful state。 Surely we could sleep。 All we had to do was not think。 We could do that。

 We did。

 When we woke; it was still night; but dawn was threatening on the eastern horizon—the mountains were 
lined with dull red。 Our mouth tasted of dust; and at first we were sure that we had dreamed Uncle Jeb’s 
appearance。 Of course we had。

 Our head was clearer this morning; and we noticed quickly the strange shape near our right 
cheek—something that was not a rock or a cactus。 We touched it; and it was hard and smooth。 We 
nudged it; and the delicious sound of sloshing water came from inside。

 Uncle Jeb was real; and he’d left us a canteen。 

 

 Our fingers were stiff and clumsy as we twisted the cap from the top of the canteen。 It wasn’t all the way 
full; but there was enough water to stretch the walls of our belly again—it must have shrunk。 We drank it 
all; we were done with rationing。

 We dropped the metal canteen to the sand; where it made a dull thud in the predawn silence。 We felt 
wide awake now。 We sighed; preferring unconsciousness; and let our head fall into our hands。 What 
now?

 “Why did you give it water; Jeb?” an angry voice demanded; close behind our back。

 We whirled; twisting onto our knees。 What we saw made our heart falter and our awareness splinter 
apart。

 There were eight humans half…circled around where I knelt under the tree。 There was no question they 
were humans; all of them。 I’d never seen faces contorted into such expressions—not on my kind。 These 
lips twisted with hatred; pulled back over clenched teeth like wild animals。 These brows pulled low over 
eyes that burned with fury。

 Six men and two women; some of them very big; most of them bigger than me。 I felt the blood drain 
from my face as I realized why they held their hands so oddly—gripped tightly in front of them; each 
balancing an object。 They held weapons。 Some held blades—a few short ones like those I had kept in 
my kitchen; and some longer; one huge and menacing。 This knife had no purpose in a kitchen。 Melanie 
supplied the name: amachete。

 Others held long bars; some metal; some wooden。 Clubs。

 I recognized Uncle Jeb in their midst。 Held loosely in his hands was an object I’d never seen in person; 
only in Melanie’s memories; like the big knife。 It was a rifle。

 I saw horror; but Melanie saw all this with wonder; her mind boggling at their numbers。 Eight human 
survivors。 She’d thought Jeb was alone or; in the best case scenario; with only two others。 To see so 
many of her kind alive filled her with joy。

 You’re an idiot;I told her。Look at them。 See them。

 I forced her to see it from my perspective: to see the threatening shapes inside the dirty jeans and light 
cotton shirts; brown with dust。 They might have been human—as she thought of the word—once; but at 
this moment they were something else。 They were barbarians; monsters。 They hung over us; slavering for 
blood。

 There was a death sentence in every pair of eyes。

 Melanie saw all this and; though grudgingly; she had to admit that I was right。 At this moment; her 
beloved humans were at their worst—like the newspaper stories we’d seen in the abandoned shack。 We 
were looking at killers。

 We should have been wiser; we should have died yesterday。 

 

 A shiver passed through me at the thought。 I’d skimmed through the histories of human atrocities。 I’d 
had no stomach for them。 Perhaps I should have concentrated better。 I knew there were reasons why 
humans let their enemies live; for a little while。 Things they wanted from their minds or their bodies…

 Of course it sprang into my head immediately—the one secret they would want from me。 The one I 
could never; never tell them。 No matter what they did to me。 I would have to kill myself first。

 I did not let Melanie see the secret I protected。 I used her own defenses against her and threw up a wall 
in my head to hide behind while I thought of the information for the first time since implantation。 There 
had been no reason to think of it before。

 Melanie was hardly even curious on the other side of the wall; she made no effort to break through it。 
There were much more immediate concerns than the fact that she had not been the only one keeping 
information in reserve。

 Did it matter that I protected my secret from her? I wasn’t as strong as Melanie; I had no doubt she 
could endure torture。 How much pain could I stand before I gave them anything they wanted?

 My stomach heaved。 Suicide was a repugnant option—worse because it would be murder; too。 Melanie 
would be part of either torture or death。 I would wait for that until I had absolutely no other choice。

 No; they can’t。 Uncle Jeb would never let them hurt me。

 Uncle Jeb doesn’t know you’re here;I reminded her。

 Tell him!

 I focused on the old man’s face。 The thick white beard kept me from seeing the set of his mouth; but his 
eyes did not seem to burn like the others’。 From the corner of my eye; I could see a few of the men shift 
their gaze from me to him。 They were waiting for him to answer the question that had alerted me to their 
presence。 Uncle Jeb stared at me; ignoring them。

 I can’t tell him; Melanie。 He won’t believe me。 And if they think I’m lying to them; they’ll think 
I’m a Seeker。 They must have experience enough to know that only a Seeker would e out here 
with a lie; a story designed for infiltration。

 Melanie recognized the truth of my thought at once。 The very wordSeeker made her recoil with hatred; 
and she knew these strangers would have the same reaction。

 It doesn’t matter anyway。 I’m a soul—that’s enough for them。

 The one with the machete—the biggest man there; black…haired with oddly fair skin and vivid blue 
eyes—made a sound of disgust and spit on the ground。 He took a step forward; slowly raising the long 
blade。

 Better fast than slow。 Better that it was this brutal hand and not mine that killed us。 Better that I didn’t 
die a creature of violence; accountable for Melanie’s blood as well as my own。 

 

 “Why? You said you made sure。 It’s one of them。”

 I recognized the voice—he was the same one who’d asked Jeb why he’d given me water。

 “Well; yes; she surely is。 But it’s a little plicated。”

 “How?” A different man asked the question。 He stood next to the big; dark…haired Kyle; and they 
looked so much alike that they had to be brothers。

 “See; this here is my niece; too。”

 “Not anymore she’s not;” Kyle said flatly。 He spit again and took another deliberate step in my 
direction; knife ready。 I could see from the way his shoulders leaned into the action that words would not 

stop him again。 I closed my eyes。

 There were two sharp metallic clicks; and someone gasped。 My eyes flew open again。

 “I said hold it; Kyle。” Uncle Jeb’s voice was still relaxed; but the long rifle was gripped tightly in his 

hands now; and the barrels were pointed at Kyle’s back。 Kyle was frozen just steps from me; his 
machete hung motionless in the air above his shoulder。

 “Jeb;” the brother said; horrified; “what are you doing?”

 “Step away from the girl; Kyle。”

 Kyle turned his back to us; whirling on Jeb in fury。 “It’s not agirl; Jeb!”

 Jeb shrugged; the gun stayed steady in his hands; pointed at Kyle。 “There are things to be discussed。”

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