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《玛瑙街》#恐怖

A pair of sisters are hired to find—and if necessary, dispose of—whatever is killing neighborhood pets in a dying town. 一对姐妹受雇去查明——并在必要时除掉——那座衰败小镇里残杀邻里宠物的东西。

BY LAIRD BARRON | PUBLISHED ON FEBRUARY 19, 2025 Novelette | 8,730 words

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本节翻译已完成

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Two and a half hours before sunset, the Jeffers sisters, Casey and Tara, drove through an underpass tunnel into the south end of Eel Neck. The tunnel entrance dripped with bittersweet vines. Dark. Went on longer than it should’ve, Tara decided in a weirdly extended moment between the impression of falling down a mine shaft and the return of sunlight. The opposite side opened into pure boondocks although she expected the suburb of her youth. Casey parked the Dodge in a dirt lot with a view up and down an empty street called Agate Way. First, entering the tunnel, then turning onto desolate Agate, Tara had experienced double jolts of vertigo—like they’d driven across a threshold. A hidden divide that nonetheless cut through everything right down to molecules. This quarter of town was backsliding into wilderness. Few standing houses and nobody mowing lawns or lounging on porches; mainly ruins and the small creatures that inhabit such places. Thornbushes choked lost yards. Roots erupted from sidewalks. Limbs of the white oaks, eastern white pine, and sycamores occasionally shifted with a breeze; their soaring tops brushed against a blue crepe-paper heaven. 日落前两个半小时，杰弗斯姐妹——凯西和塔拉——驾车穿过一条地下通道，驶入鳗颈镇的南端。隧道入口垂挂着甜苦藤。幽暗。在坠入矿井般的错觉与阳光重现之间那段异常漫长的瞬间，塔拉觉得这隧道长得不合常理。隧道的另一端是纯粹的荒郊野外，尽管她本期待着童年记忆中的郊区。凯西将道奇车停在一片泥地上，正对着空荡荡的玛瑙街两头。先是钻进隧道，继而拐入空寂的玛瑙街，塔拉接连两次感到眩晕——仿佛她们驶过了某个界限。一个隐秘的分割线，却依然切穿了万物，直至分子层面。这个街区正退化为荒野。矗立的房屋寥寥无几，无人修剪草坪或坐在门廊上闲聊；主要是废墟和那些栖身于此的小生物。荆棘丛挤占了荒芜的庭院。树根顶破人行道。白橡、东部白松和悬铃木的枝干偶尔随风摇曳它们高耸的树冠摩挲着蓝绉纸般的天穹。

Though familiar with its precincts in bygone years, neither sister currently lived in the town of Eel Neck. They had been summoned. 尽管在往昔岁月里熟悉它的地界，但姐妹俩目前都不住在鳗颈镇。她们是被召唤回来的。

“I met a dog who was a serial killer.” Casey had probed this line of philosophical inquiry for the past hour. She lowered the window and lit a cigarette. “我遇到了一只连环杀手狗。”过去一小时里，凯西一直在探究这个哲学命题。她降下车窗，点燃了一支香烟。

“Bullshit,” Tara said. Her surname had been Trampier before Dad married Casey’s mom and changed it to Jeffers. Upon reaching her majority, Tara hyphenated as the whim struck. Moments such as these, she found herself reflecting upon the fact that their sisterly bond was purely nurtured. “狗屁。”塔拉说道。她的姓氏原本是特拉皮尔，在爸爸和凯西的妈妈结婚后，改成了杰弗斯。成年后，塔拉随心所欲地加上了连字符。每当这种时刻，她总会想起她们之间的姐妹情谊完全是后天培养的。

“Ask those jerkwads in nineteenth-century Kenya who got mauled,” Casey said. “A pair of lions stalked a province for years, noshing on peasants, breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Killed for the hell of it, too. Decorated their cave with human bones.” “去问问十九世纪肯尼亚那些被撕成碎片的蠢货就知道了，”凯西说道。“有对狮子在省里游荡了好几年，把农民当早午晚餐啃。纯粹为了取乐而杀人，还用人类骨头装饰它们的洞穴。”

“That was a movie.” “那是一部电影。”

“Based on real events. Next, there was a sloth bear who defaced a dozen villagers in Bangalore—” “根据真实事件改编。接着还有只懒熊，在班加罗尔把十几个村民的脸都撕烂了——”

“Defaced?” “撕脸皮？”

“Peeled ’em like decals. Animals aren’t innocent. Our furry friends can be murderers, is all I’m saying. In the situation I know, it was a smiling, adorable mutt.” “像撕贴纸一样撕掉。动物可没那么无辜。毛茸茸的朋友们也会变成杀人犯，这就是我想说的。就我知道的那个案子，它是一只微笑着、可爱的杂种狗。”

Tara twisted her mood ring until it hurt. Found it lying on the ground at some demolition job they’d done last summer. Perfect fit. A lovely shade of turquoise, but an unreliable indicator of her mood. Cool as an ice cube nine times out of ten. She wanted a cigarette too but her girlfriend had begged her to kick them. The cab of the truck was roasting hot and tasted like metal, vinyl, and smoke. The windshield glass, starred by the impact of many pebbles, was manufactured back in the ’80s when American trucks were modeled after tanks. It focused light with the intensity of a magnifying lens. She unwrapped a stick of gum. “Okay. Tell me more.” 塔拉转动着情绪戒指，直到指节生疼。在她们去年夏天进行的一场拆除工程现场找到了它。尺寸正好。一种漂亮的青绿色，但并能不可靠地指示她的情绪。十次里有九次都冷静得像块冰。她也想来根烟，但她的女朋友求她戒烟。卡车驾驶室里闷热难当，充斥着金属、涂料和烟味的混合气息。挡风玻璃上布满石子撞击的星状裂纹，它是上世纪80年代制造的，当时美国的卡车以坦克为原型设计。它能像放大镜一样聚焦光线。她拆开一片口香糖。“好吧，继续讲。”

“This was middle school for me,” Casey said. “Mom and Dad weren’t hitched yet. Family friend operated a kennel of huskies. He promised an ‘Alaskan mushing experience!’ His dogs pulled tourists around a dirt loop on carts in the summer and freight sleds in the winter after it snowed good. Some of his younger dogs turned up dead. No visible marks except blood leaking from the snout. A vet performed a necropsy and said blunt force trauma to the body did for ’em. One day our friend happened to witness a male husky attacking a yearling. Slipped through a chain-link fence and rammed the pup with his forehead. The second the older dog realized he’d been caught, his whole attitude transformed. Acted like it was all a joke. He wiggled and his tongue lolled. He tried to play with the pup who was lying there dying of crushed organs. That’s what freaked the owner. It went beyond how dogs behave. Sly. Almost human. Nothing worse than ‘almost’ when you’re talking about an animal.” “那会儿我还在上初中，”凯西说，“爸妈还没结婚。家里有个朋友开了家哈士奇犬舍，号称能提供‘阿拉斯加雪橇体验！’。夏天他的狗拉着载游客的推车在泥地上转圈，冬天下大雪后就拉货运雪橇。后来有几只幼犬死了，除了口鼻渗血外没有任何外伤。兽医尸检后说是钝器重击致死。有一天，那朋友偶然目睹一只公哈士奇袭击一岁的幼犬。它从铁丝网底下钻过去，用脑门猛撞小狗。老狗发现自己被抓现行的那一刻，整个态度瞬间变了——嬉皮笑脸地扭来扭去，吐着舌头，还试图和躺在那里、内脏破裂而死的幼犬玩耍。正是这副做派把主人吓坏了。这已经完全超出狗的正常行为范畴。狡猾。几乎像人类。要命的就是这个'几乎'，当你在谈论动物的时候。”

“Is this your way of explaining why we can’t have a dog?” “这是你解释为什么我们不能养狗的方式吗？”

Casey flicked her cigarette butt with a scowl, slightly embarrassed that she selfishly continued to smoke in Tara’s company. “You think our landlord hates us now? Add a pet to the mix. Come on.” She climbed down from the truck, and stretched. Her arms were sleeved with tattoos. “Let’s get the lay of the land. Be the only lay I’ve had of recent note.” 凯西皱着眉头弹了弹烟蒂，想到自己在塔拉面前自私地继续抽烟，略感尴尬。“你以为房东现在很讨厌我们？再养个宠物试试看。得了吧。”她跳下卡车，伸了个懒腰。她的双臂布满纹身。“咱们先勘察下地形。这大概是我最近唯一能‘勘察’的东西了。”

Catbirds shrilled. A door slammed a long way off in another century. They walked north toward Jasper Lane, where they’d seen cars parked. 猫鹊尖声啼叫。远处传来一记关门声，恍如隔世。她们往北朝碧玉径走去，那边停着几辆车。

“Uh, the estate is thataway.” Tara indicated a vague spot. “呃，那栋房子在那边。”塔拉指着一个模糊的地方。

“This whole valley is fucking uncanny,” Casey said, lighting another cigarette. Her brain didn’t operate in a reliably linear fashion. “You in a hurry to snoop on Urach’s property? Probably have to machete our way past a thicket just to reach the front yard, and it’ll be dark soon. Knock yourself out, sis.” “这整个山谷简直诡异得要命，”凯西说着又点起一支烟，她的思维从来不是直线运作的，“你急着去乌拉克的地盘打探？八成得用砍刀开路才能穿过灌木丛进到前院，而且天快黑了。随你便吧，妹妹。”

Tara was very much not in a hurry. “Well, the high school isn’t far. It’s abandoned, right? Could be something denned up there.” She said it to her sister’s back. Casey strode on, smoke unraveling over her shoulder. 塔拉一点也不着急。“嗨，高中学校离这不远。它已经废弃了，对吧？说不定有什么东西在那儿做了窝。”她对着姐姐的背影说道。凯西头也不回地大步向前，肩后飘散着缕缕烟迹。

Upon arriving earlier that afternoon, the Jeffers sisters cruised through the north side of town, rolling past a dying mall, warehouses, and apartment complexes whose foundations crumbled into the strangling tendrils of invasive honeysuckle. Crown jewel of a chain of decaying settlements, Eel Neck dug in like a tick during colonial times as a trading post that peaked gloriously around 1940, and again, less gloriously, in the ’80s. Now came a last gasp. The town sprawled atop a butte above a river near ancient green mountains. The river wound sluggishly south and east along the valley floor, connecting somewhere to another, bigger river. Natives had farmed its murky waters. English and Dutch colonists usurped the tradition, harvesting eels by the wriggling ton in stone weirs now fallen into disrepair. Buildings were grimy and weathered except for a credit union splashed banana-yellow that shocked the senses with its gaudiness. Too many businesses were closed, too many residents had departed for distant, more prosperous cities. One got the sense of a poisoned organism contracting and calcifying, reabsorbed into the dirt, street by street, block by block. 那天下午早些时候抵达时，杰弗斯姐妹驱车穿行在镇子北边。她们驶过濒临倒闭的购物中心、仓库群，以及那些地基正被入侵性忍冬藤蔓绞碎的公寓楼群。作为一连串衰败定居点中的明珠，鳗颈镇像只虱子般扎根于此——殖民时期它是贸易站，1940年左右迎来鼎盛，又在80年代经历不那么辉煌的回光返照。如今它正咽下最后一口气。小镇盘踞在河流上方的孤峰顶，靠近古老的青山。浑浊的河水在谷底懒洋洋地向东南蜿蜒，最终汇入某条更宽阔的河流。原住民曾在这浑浊的水域耕作。英荷殖民者篡夺了传统，在如今已破败不堪的石制堰坝中，捕捞着成吨扭动的鳗鱼。除了那家用香蕉黄粉刷、艳俗得刺眼的信用合作社，所有建筑都蒙着污垢与风霜。太多商铺关门大吉，太多居民迁往远方更繁荣的都市。整座镇子宛如中毒的有机体，正在收缩钙化，逐街逐巷、逐砖逐瓦地重归尘土。

Superintendent Janet Malcom awaited them at a shabby diner with décor last updated in the era of big sideburns and Formica. She appeared similar yet slightly different since last the sisters saw her. Leaner, more angular, and singularly morose. She perched rather than sat, like a chicken come home to roost; a dope-dealing acquaintance from their post–high school years and now an important bureaucrat who operated the town’s finnicky political apparatus. 警监珍妮特·马尔科姆在一家破旧的餐馆等候她们，店里的装修风格还停留在鬓角浓密、福米卡塑料贴面盛行的年代。比起姐妹俩上次见面时，她看起来既熟悉又陌生。更瘦削，轮廓更锋利，浑身散发着阴郁气息。她与其说是坐着，不如说像归巢的母鸡般栖在座位上。这位她们高中毕业后认识的贩毒熟人，如今已成了操纵小镇诡谲政治机器的重要官僚。

Her supervisory position sounded not unlike a battlefield promotion—functionaries higher on the ladder had quit, gotten fired, or died, and eventually the keys to the kingdom slipped into her hands. Be careful what you wish for never rang more truly. The Indian casino in the next county drained custom from the local bars and lone nightclub. The playhouse, so vibrant and popular at the beginning of the millennium, was kept afloat entirely by the largess of private donors. Even the historical downtown movie theater found itself under the gun of dire budgetary constraints thanks to internet and cable programming. Malcom bought the women lunch and explained these problems and many others, including that which compelled her to request their services, which ranged from minor home repairs to pest removal. 她这个监管职位，听上去简直像是战场临时提拔——级别更高的官员们辞职、被炒或离世，最终王国的钥匙落到了她手里。你求什么可得小心，这句话从未如此真切。邻县的印第安赌场吸干了本地酒吧和唯一夜店的客源。千禧年初还生机勃勃的大剧院，如今全靠私人捐助者的慷慨解囊勉强维持。就连历史悠久的镇中心影院，也因网络和有线电视的冲击而面临严峻预算危机。马尔科姆请姐妹俩吃了午饭，解释着这些问题和其他诸多烦恼——从琐碎的家居维修到害虫消杀，都是她不得不请她们来帮忙解决的麻烦事。

“Kingston is a long drive,” the superintendent said. “Thanks for coming. Here’s my situation: an epidemic of missing pets.” “从金斯顿过来可不近，”警监说，”多谢你们跑这一趟。情况是这样的：镇上闹起了宠物失踪的瘟疫。”

“How many is considered an epidemic?” Casey said. “多少算得上是瘟疫？”凯西问。

“Dozens. Scores. I dunno the exact figure. Let’s call it a veritable shitpot of beloved critters in the wind. Cats. Dogs. A goat. Widdershins won a blue ribbon at the county fair. Snatched from a fenced-in backyard in broad daylight. I lie awake and ask myself, what carries off a hundred-and twenty-pound goat?” “几十只？上百只？我也说不准具体数字。这么说吧，简直就像刮了场邪风，把各家心爱的宠物全卷跑了。猫啊狗啊，还有只山羊。那只叫威德欣的山羊还在县集市上拿过蓝丝带奖呢，结果光天化日之下就从围栏后院消失了。我整宿睡不着就在想，什么东西能拖走一百二十磅重的山羊？”

“Some asshole,” Casey said. “某个混蛋。”凯西说。

“Satanists?” Tara said. “撒旦教徒？”塔拉问。

“I’ve ruled out nothing and no one.” Superintendent Malcom wore an expensive suit with shoulder pads. Her prescription glasses dimmed or cleared according to the light. At the moment the lenses were smoky. “Agate Way, Jasper Lane, Opal Street, over to Onyx and Crystal. Terrible neighborhoods. Dark Ages. Conversely, you have the decent folks on Chariot, Atlas, and Whelm Boulevard. That’s where a lot of the critters were taken. People in those parts love their kitties and Fidos. They expect results from city hall. The mayor hears his people.” “我目前没有排除任何可能性，无论是人是物。”马尔科姆警监穿着带垫肩的昂贵套装。她的处方眼镜会根据光线变暗或变清晰。此刻镜片呈烟雾状。“玛瑙街、碧玉径、欧泊路，再到黑曜石街和水晶道。全是糟糕的街区，像活在黑暗时代。反观战车路、阿特拉斯街和重负大道那些体面人家，丢的宠物最多。那儿的人很爱他们的猫咪和狗狗，指望市政厅给说法。市长总得听听选民的声音。”

“You need a cop.” Casey sipped coffee, feigning indifference in hopes of sweetening the eventual fee. “Or a park ranger with a trank gun.” “你们该找的是警察。”凯西啜着咖啡，佯装冷漠，希望以此抬高最终报酬，”或者带麻醉枪的巡林员。”

“Our animal-control person won’t investigate.” “我们的动物管理人员拒绝调查。”

“Why not? Too busy shooting rats at the dump?” “为什么不呢？忙着在垃圾场射杀老鼠吗？”

“South End might as well be the Darién Gap. Entire neighborhoods left empty. Shops closed. The old high school is a ruin. Folks think there’s leftover trouble at the Urach estate.” “南区简直跟达连地峡一样荒蛮。整片的街区都空了，店铺全关了门。旧高中成了一处废墟。大伙儿都觉得乌拉克庄园还藏着什么祸害。”

“Leftover trouble?” Casey said. “Fifteen years makes for a mighty cold plate.” “遗留的祸害？”凯西说，”十五年，剩菜也该馊透了。”

“I agree. It’s a fact that Urach’s entire menagerie was captured or euthanized.” “我同意。乌拉奇所有的动物要么被捕获要么被安乐死，这是事实。”

“So they say.” “他们是这样公布的。”

“Get a grip,” the superintendent said. “The locals are excitable. You aren’t a local, so I expect better. One damned hyena jumps the estate fence and mangles a paperboy and that’s the urban legend hung around our necks like a boat anchor for the next half century. You understand why I can’t get any volunteers.” “清醒点，”警监说，“本地人容易大惊小怪。你们不是本地人，所以我期待更高标准。一只该死的鬣狗翻出庄园围栏咬了个报童，这破事就像船锚一样挂在我们脖子上，成了流传半个世纪的都市传说。现在你们明白为什么我找不到志愿者了吧？”

The women exchanged a glance. Once upon a time Tara had helped Casey shaft Malcom regarding a few hundred bucks of weed. Water under the bridge, according to the official. Nonetheless, Tara keenly wished to make amends. She nudged her sister. 姐妹俩交换了个眼神。曾几何时，塔拉帮凯西在几百块大麻交易上坑过马尔科姆。按这位官员的说法，往事已如桥下流水。不过塔拉心里仍然迫切想要弥补。她用胳膊肘轻推了下姐姐。

“I saw squad cars cruising Main,” Casey said, ignoring the nudge. A guilty conscience was not among her faults. “我看到警车在主街巡逻。”凯西说，无视了碰触。内疚感不是她的缺点。

Superintendent Malcom smirked. “Fuck the police. The town force is a joke. Sheriff’s boys have neither jurisdiction nor do they care. Leaves me clutching at straws. I’d hate to lose my cushy position. You were buddy-buddy with Urach, right?” 警监马尔科姆讥诮地撇了撇嘴。“去他妈的警察。镇上的警力就是个笑话。县警那帮家伙既没管辖权也懒得管。只能让我抓瞎。我可不想丢掉这个肥差。你们当年跟乌拉克交情不错，对吧？”

“Tara knew her,” Casey said. “塔拉认识她。”凯西说。

Everybody knew that rich, eccentric Agnes Urach squandered a family fortune bankrolling expeditions to foreign lands, intent upon capturing prizes for her private zoo. Eventually she died and the creatures ran amok on the property, which led to an epic shitshow now spoken of in hushed voices. 人人都知道那个古怪的富婆艾格尼丝·乌拉克，她挥霍家族财富资助海外探险，就为给自己的私人动物园搜罗奇珍异兽。最后她死了，那些动物在庄园里横行霸道，引发了一场至今仍被低声谈论的史诗级闹剧。

“I did the lawns at the house one summer,” Tara said to the superintendent. “But that was before.” Before meant before the gas line explosion, the meteorite impact, or the choose-a-mysterious-disaster that burned the mansion and unleashed Urach’s beasties on the neighborhood. “我有年夏天给宅子修剪过草坪，”塔拉对警监说道，“不过那是在之前。” 所谓之前，就是在那条燃气管道爆炸前，在那颗陨石坠落前，或者说，在那场任君挑选的离奇灾难之前。正是那场灾难烧毁了豪宅，把乌拉克的野兽全放出来祸害街坊。

“Close enough for government work. Recon the situation. Help me get a handle on this problem, I’ll cut you a check. Hell, I’m a sport. If you poke around and decide you can’t help me, I’ll still cut you a check.” When the sisters hesitated, she said, “You ladies owe me a bit of consideration. Take this.” She pulled out a money clip and handed Casey a C-note and several twenties. “Hey, I know what you’re thinking. Nothing like a public official distributing cash to a pair of seedy broads, huh?” She laughed. “Relax. Nobody gives a lick about my business. And you two sad sacks may as well be invisible.” “差不多就得了，反正政府活儿都这德行。侦查一下情况。帮我弄清楚这个问题，我给你们开张支票。嘿，我可是爽快人。如果你们查了一圈觉得帮不上我，我还是会给你们开支票。”见姐妹俩犹豫，她又说：“二位好歹欠我点人情。拿着。”她掏出钱夹，抽出张百元大钞和几张二十块塞给凯西。“嘿，我知道你们在想什么。公务员当街给俩邋遢娘们发钱，像话吗？”她大笑，“放轻松，这破地方没人在乎老娘怎么花钱。至于你们俩倒霉蛋，跟隐形人也没差。”

Casey slipped the money into her shirt pocket. She supposed they could do their old buddy a favor. Tara knew her sister supposed so because they’d fallen nearly a month behind on rent. Casey asked how many pets had vanished. 凯西把钱塞进衬衫口袋。她想他们可以帮老朋友一个忙。塔拉知道姐姐大概这么想，因为她们已经拖欠房租快一个月了。凯西问有多少宠物不见了。

“Oodles and oodles.” Superintendent Malcom smoothed her tie with a long fingernail. Sunlight beamed through a window and her glasses blackened. “Oodles of poodles.” “多到数不清。”警监马尔科姆用长指甲捋平领带。阳光透过窗户照射进来，她的镜片瞬间变黑。“成千上万的贵宾犬。”

Heeding Malcom’s advice, the sisters had begun their mission by canvassing the “nicer” neighborhoods. They snooped around, peeking over fences and interviewing a handful of locals who deigned to answer their doors. One nervous dude fondled a katana. In short order it became clear that a curse hung over South End. Yes indeed, numerous dogs and cats of various breeds and sizes disappeared on a routine basis. And yes, a huge goddamned goat had been taken. Who gave a flying fuck at a rolling doughnut about the prizewinning goat? Hadn’t they heard? Pets and livestock weren’t the going concern. Sinister shapes lurked among the bushes. Folks drove straight to work and home again, or went in pairs if they absolutely had to walk. Nobody let children play in the yard unattended. Utter collapse of civilization. Everything south of Chariot was lost. Bolt High was a likely haven for miscreants—four-legged or two. God knew what might be occurring at the Urach mansion. The drunk ex-soldier who lived in a camper on a vacant lot near Vesuvius Park recently vanished. While the soldier wasn’t exactly missed, who’d be next? When did that damnable buffoon of a mayor intend to take action? Are you two high? You sure look high. 遵照马尔科姆的建议，姐妹俩从“较好”的街区开始了调查。她们四处窥探，扒着围栏张望，采访了几个愿意开门的居民。有个紧张兮兮的家伙不停抚摸武士刀。很快事情就明朗了，南区确实笼罩在诅咒中。没错，各种品种体型的猫狗都在定期失踪。没错，连他妈的山羊都被拖走了。谁在乎那只得奖山羊？他们没听说吗？宠物和牲畜早不是重点了。灌木丛里潜伏着黑影。人们现在只敢两点一线往返上班，迫不得已出门也得结伴而行。没人敢让孩子独自在院子里玩耍。文明彻底崩塌。战车路以南全完了。博尔特高中大概成了不法之徒的巢穴——四条腿或两条腿的。天知道乌拉克宅邸在发生什么。那个住在维苏威公园空地房车里的退伍酒鬼最近也失踪了。虽然没人惦记那醉汉，但谁是下一个？那个蠢货市长到底什么时候才行动？你俩嗑药了吧？看着可真像。

Casey asked whether anyone had actually seen coyotes or other predators. 凯西问是否真有人见过土狼或其他掠食者。

“Predators,” one citizen sneered. Those feral assholes who lived above the Ravine were one-hundred-percent guaranteed to be the source of any dognapping or other, less concretely defined, shenanigans. “They’ve gone back to the old ways. Go bother them!” “掠食者？”一位居民讥讽道。住在峡谷上方的那些野人百分百就是偷狗和其他说不清道不明的勾当的罪魁祸首。“他们早回归原始了。有种去烦他们啊！”

“We will!” Casey said with an eyeroll to Tara as the duo took their leave. “我们这就去！”凯西翻着白眼对塔拉说，姐妹俩随即转身离开。

Now, the lunch meeting with Superintendent Malcom and subsequent canvassing behind them, the sisters hiked several blocks along Agate before turning left onto Jasper. They’d entered the jungle for real. 现在，与警监马尔科姆的午餐会面和随后的走访调查都已结束，姐妹俩沿着玛瑙街走了几个街区，然后左转上了碧玉径。她们算是真正踏入了丛林地带。

Trees reared like their ancestors in the world’s hothouse epoch; tops bent close together until the sky was a bright slash whose light fell mistily and reflected against bushes and floated in wavering panels on concrete and asphalt. Foliage and moldering beds of needles smelled as raw as the depths of a virgin forest. The vehicles they’d spotted earlier were abandoned and inoperable, judging by the filthy windows and flattened tires. Weeds grew in their shadows. Dead leaves collected upon windshields, and dirt and pollen scum, too. Structures, or their remnants, could occasionally be glimpsed beyond wild hedges and under thick nets of vines. Some roofs were torn off, as though an extremely specific tornado had whirled through the neighborhood. 树木像远古温室纪元的祖先般拔地而起，树冠相互倾轧，将天空挤压成一道发亮的狭缝，光线朦胧地洒落，在灌木丛间反射，在水泥和沥青路面上投下摇曳的光斑。枝叶与腐烂的松针层散发着原始森林深处的气息。早前看到的那些车辆显然已被废弃且无法操作，污浊的车窗和瘪掉的轮胎就是明证。杂草在它们的阴影里生长。枯叶堆积在挡风玻璃上，还有泥土和花粉结成的污垢。透过疯长的树篱和厚厚的藤蔓网，偶尔能瞥见建筑物的残骸。有些屋顶被整个掀掉，仿佛有个特别挑剔的龙卷风曾在此处扫荡。

（译注：温室纪元通常指通常指古新世-始新世极热事件。）

A considerable jaunt down the lane from the heart of whatever creeping apocalypse was in progress, undergrowth thinned to reveal houses that were nominally habitable. One split-level had its patio doors boarded and a ratty tarp draped over the second-story bay windows. A comfortable, even expensive, home inexplicably gone to seed. Three shirtless boys squatted in the driveway skinning an animal; Tara wasn’t sure what kind. Nearby was a firepit filled with ashes. The kids sang in guttural three-part harmony. A gangly woman in a ball cap (quantum physicists do it and they don’t) and a stained Columbia University T-shirt oversaw the project. The woman (Tara instantly thought of her as The Professor) flashed a three-finger claw in greeting, or threat. Her left hand went behind her back and Tara wished they’d carried the rifle, even if it was a relic. We aren’t really badass hunters, even counting the whitetail Casey bags once in a blue moon. Handyman jobs; landscaping; woodcutting . . . Those are our regular gigs. We’re just a couple of idiots willing to massage our résumés to make a dime. This was her attempt at a prayer. 沿着这条正在经历某种缓慢末世的小巷前行相当一段距离后，灌木渐疏，露出几栋勉强能住人的房子。一栋错层式住宅的露台门钉着木板，二层凸窗上耷拉着破旧的防水布。一个舒适甚至昂贵的家，如今莫名荒废。三个赤膊男孩蹲在车道上给动物剥皮；塔拉认不出是什么动物。附近有个装满灰烬的火坑。孩子们用喉音唱着三重和声。一个戴棒球帽（量子物理学家也这样干但他们不承认）、穿着脏兮兮哥伦比亚大学T恤的高瘦女人监督着这一切。这女人（塔拉立刻在心里称她为“教授”）竖起三指爪状手势，不知是问候还是威胁。她的左手背在身后，塔拉真希望她们带了那支步枪，尽管是把老古董。我们算什么狠角色猎手啊，就算算上凯西偶尔走狗屎运打到的白尾鹿。修水管、搞园艺、砍柴火...这些才是我们的老本行。不过是一对为了赚点小钱敢在简历上吹牛的蠢货罢了。这算是她的祈祷词。

The Professor smiled. “An altar to the Green. Nature revolts. Nature rises up. She opens her jaws. Nature never tires. She never rests.” Straight, sharp teeth; cool, mellow voice. The kids also grinned and made claws of their bloody fingers, pantomiming an unspecified act of violence. Casey’s stride faltered; an indication that her mouth might be shifting into gear. Certain folks referred to them as the Rooster Sisters, as both were short and wiry and given to rubbernecking with pop-eyed intensity. Casey, in particular, possessed a well-earned reputation for belligerence. Thankfully, she shrugged and moved on. Tara kept pace. An itch burned in the center of her spine. The children resumed singing. 教授露出微笑。“一个献给绿色的祭坛。自然在反抗。自然在崛起。她张开了嘴。自然永不疲倦。她永不休息。”整齐锋利的牙齿；冷静柔和的嗓音。孩子们也咧嘴笑着，将血淋淋的手指弯成爪状，比划着某种未明说的暴力动作。凯西的步伐迟疑了——这是她嘴巴即将开火的征兆。有些人管她们叫“斗鸡姐妹”，因为她俩都矮小结实，还总爱瞪圆眼睛瞎打听。尤其是凯西，好斗的名声可不是白来的。谢天谢地，她只是耸耸肩继续前进。塔拉紧跟步伐，脊柱中央像被火烧般刺痒。孩子们的歌声又响了起来。

The lane climbed until it made a T with Opal Street. Each leg of the intersection passed through an arch of tires and assorted pieces of metal somehow welded together into freestanding architecture that belonged to the movie set of a science fictional dystopia. Directly ahead was a clearing and the remains of a school with its walls yet upright. In a persistent theme, sections of the roof had caved in or been peeled and flung aside. A plaque over the front entrance spelled bolt high school. Underneath, in yellow block spray-paint letters: imdugud saves. “A lot of real little shits went here, huh?” Casey said. She’d played rugby all four years of high school in the next town over and owned a scar on her chin as a reminder of showdowns with Bolt High. 小巷不断攀升，最终与欧泊街形成T字路口。交叉路口的每个方向都穿过一道由轮胎和各种金属焊接而成的拱门，这堆自成一体的建筑构造，活像科幻反乌托邦电影的布景。正前方是片空地，立着所学校的残骸，墙体尚且完好。一如既往地，部分屋顶塌陷或被掀飞。正门上方有一块牌子写着博尔特高中，底下用黄色喷漆方块字标注：伊姆杜古德拯救世人。“这儿出过不少真混账吧？”凯西说道。她在邻镇高中打了四年橄榄球，下巴上的疤就是和博尔特高中干架留下的纪念。

“Some of those chicks weren’t so little,” Tara said, reliving moments of Casey catching an elbow to the jaw, her hand stomped by cleated track shoes. Not much of an athlete, Tara had played nursemaid; ready with Band-Aids and ice packs. “有些丫头块头可不小。”塔拉说道，脑海中闪过凯西被肘击下巴、被钉鞋踩手的画面。运动神经不发达的她当年只能当个护理员，时刻准备着创可贴和冰袋。

“Shits, though.” “仍然是些混账东西。”

“To the last.” Tara patted Casey’s shoulder. The Jeffers girls stuck together against the world. Too salt of the earth for polite society, and a book or so too well-read for their fellow hicks and ne’er-do-wells. “混到骨子里的。”塔拉拍拍凯西的肩膀。杰弗斯家姐妹向来同仇敌忾——她们太过耿直，容不进上流社会的虚与委蛇；又读过几本书，和那些乡巴佬、二流子也格格不入。

The main doors and ceilings were gone. Windows everywhere were also gone. Knee-high grass surrounded the structure. Bare patches of dirt were imprinted by a muddle of animal and human tracks. 正门和天花板都不见了。所有窗户也不翼而飞。齐膝高的野草包围着建筑。裸露的泥地上，动物和人类的足迹杂乱交织。

Into the school they went. Farther along spread an open-air maze of corridors and rooms. No trace of further graffiti or refuse as one might expect to find had kids or vagrants hung around the place. Small creatures had encamped, however. Wasps hung paper nests high in corners. Chipmunks scuttled along rotted baseboards. Sparrows perched in lattices of morning glory and grapevine, coldly observing the interloping humans. Weeds and weather had demolished sections of the floor; in some places, human tools had shattered concrete. The weeds were trampled along the main corridor, creating a trail that arrowed deeper into the building. 她们走进学校。更深处延展着露天迷宫般的走廊与房间。没有预想中青少年或流浪汉盘踞会留下的涂鸦或垃圾痕迹。不过小型生物已然在此安营扎寨。黄蜂在高处角落挂着纸巢，花栗鼠沿着腐朽的踢脚板窜逃，麻雀栖息在牵牛花与葡萄藤编织的网格里，冷眼观察闯入的人类。野草和风雨摧毁了部分地板；在有些地方，人类的工具击碎了混凝土。主走廊的杂草被踩出一条小径，如箭矢般指向建筑深处。

That uncomfortable sensation between Tara’s shoulder blades returned. This time she voiced her unease: “Wish we brought the Winchester.” Casey didn’t respond; she would’ve commented that the damned thing was heavy, which was true. A hawk skated overhead. Its screech sounded surreal—like a stock Foley effect on a western. 塔拉肩胛骨之间那种不适感又回来了。这次她把不安说了出来：“真该带上那把温彻斯特。”凯西没搭腔；她准会抱怨那破枪很沉，这倒是实话。一只鹰隼从头顶滑过，它的尖啸听着很不真实，就像西部片里用烂的音效。

They stopped at the entrance to the gymnasium. 她们在体育馆入口处停了下来。

The bleachers were in a shamble of upended planks smashed by a giant’s fist. A sculpture in the shape of a flat pyramid reared above a sinkhole in the center of the grassy parquet floor. The sculpture was composed of partially melted truck tires, scorched cinder blocks, and unidentifiable bones, surmounted by a shallow concrete bird bath that cupped a glitter ball. Sunbeams reflected off the ball’s mirrored plates. Dust and motes of dandelion puff drifted in the reddening haze. Clouds hung like glaciers and the shadow of the pyramid undulated closer to the sisters. 看台区犹如被巨人拳头砸翻的木板废墟。 在草皮铺就的广场中央的陷坑上，矗立着一座扁平金字塔状的雕塑。这雕塑由部分熔化的卡车轮胎、烧焦的煤渣砖和无法辨认的骨头组成，顶端托着一个浅浅的水泥鸟浴盆，盆里盛着一只闪亮的球。阳光在镜球镀层上折射。尘埃与蒲公英绒毛在渐红的暮霭中漂浮。云层如冰川高悬，金字塔的阴影正向姐妹俩波动逼近。

“See that?” Casey indicated the base of the altar where a black hole cored into concrete. And black was the only way to describe it. Almost cartoonishly dark. Over a foot in diameter and dilating. Tara figured it as an optical illusion, a weird shadow, until a shard of block chipped and fell. And another. The hole keened softly as it chewed; wind among rocks, an animal in a trap, dreamlike. “看见没？”凯西指向祭坛底部，一个凿进混凝土的黑洞。只能用黑来形容它。黑得近乎卡通化。直径超一英尺，还在扩张。塔拉原以为是什么视觉把戏或怪影，直到一块混凝土剥落坠入。接着又一块。那洞在啃噬时发出轻柔的哀鸣：像岩间风啸，像困兽哀嚎，如梦似幻。

Strange understanding bloomed within Tara. “An altar to the Green. Nature revolts. Nature rises up.” 塔拉心中一种涌起奇异的领悟。“一个献给绿色的祭坛。自然在反抗。自然在崛起。”

Casey turned her head slightly, attention divided. “This look like nature to you? Behold the handiwork of local yokels. The rumors were true. Eel Neck is chock-full of loonies.” 凯西微微侧头，注意力分散。“你觉得这像自然所为？分明是乡巴佬的杰作。传言不假，鳗颈镇净是疯子。”

“She opens her jaws.” “她张开了嘴。”

Casey grabbed her sister’s arm. “We came, we saw, it’s a bust.” That hole in the base of the altar was now wide enough for a person to crawl into. The keening sharpened. Time to go. She pulled, hard. 凯西猛地抓住妹妹的手臂。“咱们来了，看了，这里不行了。”祭坛底部的洞现已扩大到足够一个人爬进去。哀嚎声变得更加尖锐。该走了。她使劲一拽。

Tara allowed herself to be half-dragged toward the school entrance. “Nature never tires. She never rests.” Her lips, a stranger’s words. At her back, shrill unheavenly music, the sense of an abyss yawning. 塔拉任由自己被半拖向学校入口。“自然永不疲倦。她永不休息。”这些话从她唇间吐出，却像出自陌生人之口。身后传来刺耳的非尘世之音，深渊正在张口的预感如影随形。

“Whatever you say. Be like her and move.” “随便你怎么说。学她的样子，快走。”

They stood panting in the middle of Opal Street. The sun sank and the school’s walls were backlit in crimson. Casey lit a cigarette, affecting the steely calm of her childhood idols Eastwood and Wayne. Her hands barely shook. Already dismissing what she’d seen, already setting aside her instincts. “Didn’t see signs of a den. Hey, where you going?” 她们站在欧泊街中央喘着粗气。夕阳西沉，学校的围墙被映成血红色。凯西点起烟，强装出童年偶像伊斯特伍德和韦恩那种钢铁般的镇定。她的手几乎没抖。已经开始否定刚才的所见，已经开始压抑自己的直觉。“没发现巢穴痕迹。喂，你去哪儿？”

Tara ignored her. Fresh out of courage, she stumbled back toward the truck, anywhere. 塔拉没有理会。勇气耗尽，她踉跄着朝卡车方向逃去——逃向任何地方。