Fifteen Hours(科幻战争)-第21部分

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as　well　have　been　the　last　man　left　in　the　entire　galaxy。
Then；　deep　through　the　gathering　haze　in　his　mind　of　fear　and　loneliness；　Larn　heard　a　sudden
sound　that　set　cold　fingers　at　his　spine　and　turned　his　blood　to　ice。　A　single　squelch　on　the　commbead
in　his　ear。　Bulaven’s　signal。　The　signal　that　meant　the　big　man　had　made　contact　with　the
enemy　and　from　Larn’s　point　of　view　it　meant　something　worse。　It　meant　the　enemy　was　behind
him。
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CHAPTER　SEVENTEEN
00：37　hours　Central　Broucheroc　Time
Giving　Aid　and　Comfort　to　the　Wounded　—　As　Hell　Breaks　Loose　Larn　is　Forced　to　a　Decision　—
A　Final　Madness　in　Zeebers’　Smile　—　Unknown；　a　Bullet　Finds　its　Mark
One　of　the　orks　was　moving…
Standing　alone　in　the　darkness　of　no…man’s　land；　not　quite　sure　if　it　was　only　his　imagination　or
if　he　had　really　seen　a　slight　movement　in　the　legs　of　one　of　the　corpses　lying　on　the　ground　before
him；　Zeebers　decided　it　would　be　better　to　make　certain　the　creature　was　dead。　Sliding　his　combat
knife　from　its　sheath　as　he　dropped　to　his　knees　beside　the　body；　he　quickly　pulled　the　ork’s
unresisting　jaws　open　and　silently　stabbed　the　blade　up　through　the　weak　point　in　the　roof　of　the
mouth　and　into　the　brain。　Then；　pulling　the　knife　free；　he　glanced　briefly　at　the　other　corpses　around
him　and　wondered　if　he　should　do　the　same　with　them　as　well。
I　will　do　another　three　of　them；　he　thought；　wiping　the　blade　on　his　trouser　leg　as　he　crept
towards　a　second　body。　That　way　I　will　have　done　four　altogether。　And　I　could　do　with　some　extra
luck；　what　with　that　bastard　new　fish　being　such　a　jinx。
“Help　me；”　he　heard　a　failing　voice　whisper　in　Gothic　as　he　knelt　beside　a　second　ork。
Startled；　Zeebers　turned　to　see　an　arm　rise　falteringly　from　beneath　a　nearby　pile　of　bodies。
Going　over　to　it；　he　saw　a　human　face　peering　out　from　among　a　nest　of　greenskin　limbs。　One　of　the
Guardsman　from　the　lander　he　realised；　mortally　wounded　and　left　for　dead　in　no…man’s　land　but
still　clinging　desperately　to　life。
“Please…　help　me；”　the　Guardsman　said　again；　the　weak　voice　was　loud　against　the　silence　and
forced　Zeebers　to　clamp　a　firm　hand　over　his　mouth　to　keep　him　quiet。
Weakly；　the　Guardsman　began　to　struggle；　his　free　arm　flailing　and　flapping　around　him。
Feeling　the　man　grab　pleadingly　at　the　edge　of　his　greatcoat；　Zeebers　felt　a　sudden　flush　of　disgust
and　anger　to　find　yet　another　new　fish　was　endangering　his　life。
It　cannot　be　helped；　he　thought　as　he　pushed　down　once　more　with　his　knife。　He　is　too　far　gone
to　live　much　longer　anyway。　And　he　will　bring　the　orks　down　on　both　of　us　if　I　don’t　make　him　quiet。
Seeing　the　arm　fall　and　the　Guardsman’s　spasms　grow　still；　Zeebers　pulled　his　knife　free　and
turned　to　get　back　to　the　orks。　The　Guardsman　did　not　count；　he　decided。　He　was　not　part　of　the
pattern。　Leaving　Zeebers　with　another　three　orks　to　deal　with　if　he　was　going　to　improve　his　luck。
Then；　abruptly；　he　heard　the　signal。　A　single　squelch　over　his　comm…bead。　The　fathead　Bulaven
must　have　run　into　some　trouble。
For　a　moment　Zeebers　considered　leaving　him　to　it。　He　did　not　like　Bulaven；　or　any　of　the
Vardans　for　that　matter。　It　would　be　easy　enough　to　slip　back　towards　the　line　and　claim　he　had　lost
track　of　the　others　in　the　darkness。　Just　as　quickly　he　was　forced　to　abandon　the　idea；　if　Bulaven　or
any　of　the　others　survived　and　thought　he　had　left　them　to　die　they　would　frag　him　without　even
thinking。　No；　for　better　or　worse；　he　had　better　go　and　try　to　save　the　fat　man’s　hide。
Putting　his　knife　back　in　its　sheath；　Zeebers　turned　to　hurry　in　Bulaven’s　direction。　Then；　as　he
picked　his　way　past　a　particularly　large　pile　of　ork　corpses　he　saw　shadowy　movement　at　the　corner
of　his　vision　and　realised　he　had　blundered　upon　a　gang　of　gretchin　harvesting　limbs。　Swinging　his
lasgun　towards　them　while　the　gretchin　were　still　dumb　with　confusion；　Zeebers　fired；　hitting　the
nearest　gretch　in　the　chest。　Swiftly；　he　fired　again；　unleashing　another　half…dozen　lasbeams；　hitting
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two　more　gretch　and　causing　the　rest　to　flee。　As　Zeebers　made　to　hurry　once　more　on　his　way　he
heard　something　scraping　wet　and　eager　behind　him　followed　by　the　whine　of　whirring　motors。
Turning；　he　saw　a　threatening　shadow　loom　up　in　the　darkness　and　knew　the　day　he　had　feared　for
months　was　finally　upon　him。
Tonight；　his　luck　had　finally　ran　out…
“Fall　back！　Repeat：　fall　back！”　Davir’s　voice　shouted　forcefully　in　his　comm…bead　as　Larn　heard　the
sound　of　shots　and　all　hell　began　to　break　loose　around　him。　“Everyone　back　to　the　trenches！”
Lost　and　still　on　his　own；　Larn　turned　to　move　quickly　towards　what　was　his　best　guess　at　the
position　of　the　human　lines。　Suddenly；　he　saw　a　staccato　burst　of　white　tracer　lines　in　the　distance　to
the　right　of　him　as　somewhere　in　the　darkness　a　lasgun　fired。
“Help　me；”　he　heard　Zeebers　yell　in　fear　and　agony　over　the　comm…line。　“Sweet　Emperor；　it’s
got　me！　Someone　help　me。”
Unsure　what　to　do；　for　the　briefest　instant　Larn　stood　rooted　to　the　spot。　Then；　as　Zeebers’　voice
in　his　ear　became　a　jumble　of　incoherent　screams；　he　made　a　decision。　Turning　in　the　direction　the
lasfire　had　come　from　he　ran　towards　it；　jumping　and　stumbling　over　the　ork　corpses　littering　his
path　as　he　raced　to　help　the　pleading　trooper。　Seeing　two　shapes　coming　together　in　the　darkness
ahead　of　him；　Larn　ran　closer；　only　to　find　a　scene　of　horror。　He　saw　Zeebers；　arms　flailing　in
useless　spasms；　belly　ripped　open　and　guts　hanging　out；　held　like　a　limp　puppet　in　the　hand　of　an
enormous　ork　while　with　its　other　hand　the　creature　used　a　whirring　circular　blade　to　further
eviscerate　Zeebers’　screaming　flesh。　Then；　tossing　Zeebers’　rag　doll　body　aside；　the　ork　turned　to
look　at　Larn　and　began　to　advance　towards　him。
It　was　huge；　wearing　a　bloodstained　apron　across　its　body　and　a　thick…lensed　monocular　over
one　of　its　eyes。　Seeing　the　cruel　curiosity　written　in　the　creature’s　monstrous　inhuman　features；　Larn
knew　at　once　it　must　be　one　of　the　ork　surgeons　Scholar　had　mentioned。　Instinctively　raising　his
lasgun　to　ward　off　its　advance；　he　fired；　the　first　blast　flying　wide　to　hit　one　of　the　corpses　lying　on
the　ground　behind　it。　Adjusting　his　aim；　Larn　fired　again；　hitting　the　monster　in　the　stomach。　Then
again。　The　chest。　Again。　The　shoulder。　Again。　The　face。　The　lasbeam　briefly　flaring　brighter　as　it
burned　through　the　lens　of　the　monocular。　Tearing　the　melted　mounting　of　the　device　away　uncaring
from　the　scorched　socket　of　its　now…blind　eye；　the　ork　kept　coming　no　matter　how　many　times　Larn
hit　it。　It　seemed　unstoppable：　as　inured　to　the　pain　of　its　own　flesh　as　it　was　to　the　agonies　of　others。
All　the　time；　the　whining　blade　in　its　hand　grew　closer　and　closer；　as　eager　as　its　master　to　test　its
edge　against　the　outlines　of　Larn’s　body。
Then；　incredibly；　salvation　came　from　an　unlikely　source。　As　if　from　nowhere；　Larn　saw　Zeebers
appear　in　the　darkness　behind　the　ork　and　jump　screaming　onto　the　creature’s　back　to　wrap　his　arms
about　its　throat。　Horribly　wounded；　the　spool　of　his　intestines　unravelled　in　the　mud　behind　him；　as
the　ork　tried　to　pull　him　off；　Zeebers　briefly　smiled　towards　Larn　in　pain…fuelled　madness；　before
raising　a　hand　above　his　head　and　letting　out　a　bloody…mouthed　and　psychotic　roar　of　triumph。
Seeing　the　gleam　of　a　half…dozen　rings　around　Zeebers’　fingers；　Larn　realised　the　madman　must
have　pulled　the　pins　from　every　grenade　on　his　belt。
Knocked　on　his　back　as　Zeebers　and　the　ork　disappeared　in　the　roar　and　flash　of　the　resulting
explosion；　Larn　staggered　to　his　feet　once　more　and　became　aware　the　volume　of　firing　about　him
had　risen　dramatically。　All　around　him　no…man’s　land　was　alive　with　bullets　as；　fully　roused　now
from　sleep；　the　orks　fired　blindly　from　their　lines　in　search　of　targets。　A　last　glance　confirming　there
was　no　more　he　could　do　for　Zeebers；　Larn　turned　to　run　for　the　human　lines　in　the　hope　of　safety。
Only　to　trip；　not　realising　at　first　he　had　been　shot；　before　he　could　go　even　a　dozen　steps。
The　sun　was　rising　in　the　west；　the　first　red　fingers　of　dawn　revealing　the　brooding　and　foreboding
shape　of　Broucheroc　on　the　horizon。　And　still　lying　wounded　in　no…man’s　land　in　the　same　place
where　he　had　fallen；　Larn　looked　up　at　the　brightening　sky　above　him　and　knew　he　should　fear　the
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sun。　With　the　gathering　of　the　light　soon　the　orks　would　be　able　to　see　him　from　their　lines。　But
where　once　he　would　have　felt　anxiety；　even　perhaps　terror　at　that　prospect；　now　all　those　things　had
left　him。　Instead；　he　lay　on　his　back　watching　the　sun　slowly　rise　and　he　felt　peace。　He　watched　it
and　he　knew　contentment。
I　have　made　it　past　fifteen　hours；　he　thought；　at　last　given　answer　by　the　coming　of　the　dawn　to
the　question　that　had　plagued　him　throughout　the　night。　More　than　that　even；　now　the　sun　is　rising。
And　with　it　I　have　proved　the　others　wrong。　I　have　beaten　the　odds。　I　have　survived　this　place。　I
have　passed　the　test。　The　orks　cannot　kill　me　now。　The　laws　that　rule　this　monstrous　city　will　not　let
them。
Certain　now　that　his　fate　had　been　decided　in　his　favour　and　it　was　only　a　matter　of　time　before
someone　came　to　rescue　him；　Larn　settled　calmly　down　to　wait。　All　the　fear　had　passed　through　him
now。　All　the　loneliness。　The　desperation。　The　despair。　They　were　gone；　replaced　instead　by　a
growing　sense　of　detached　serenity。
Over　the　last　fifteen　hours　he　had　faced　the　worst　this　city　could　throw　at　him。　It　was　over　now
and　with　it　he　was　forever　free。　Free　from　doubt。　Free　from　worry。　Free　from　his　fears。　He　did　not
even　feel　the　cold　anymore。　He　felt　safe　and　warm。　He　felt　whole。　He　had　survived　his　fifteen　hours。
He　had　lasted。　He　had　proved　himself。　This　place　could　no　longer　hurt　him　and　with　that　last　happy
thought；　Larn　smiled　and　closed　his　eyes。　Closed　his　eyes　to　drift　away　to　dreamless　sleep；　the　last
shreds　of　his　consciousness　flying　away　from　him　like　dead　leaves　on　the　wind　as　the　relentless
babble　of　his　mind　gradually　gave　way　to　silence。　Drawing　a　last　contented　breath；　his　beating　heart
slowed　and　stilled。
Then；　finally；　there　was　only　darkness。



　　　　　　　　　　　（The　End）



。　…　。………【gzbysh】整理