new moon(暮光之城-新月英文版)-第16章

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the　bright　golden　arches　of　the　McDonald's　she　was　heading　for。　
Across　the　street　there　was　one　open　business。　The　windows　were　covered　from　
inside　and　there　were　
neon　signs；　advertisements　for　different　brands　of　beer；　glowing　in　front　of　
them。　The　biggest　sign；　in　
brilliant　green；　was　the　name　of　the　bar—One…Eyed　Pete's。　I　wondered　if　there　
was　some　pirate　theme　
not　visible　from　outside。　The　metal　door　was　propped　open；　it　was　dimly　lit　
inside；　and　the　low　murmur　
of　many　voices　and　the　sound　of　ice　clinking　in　glasses　floated　across　the　
street。　Lounging　against　the　wall　
beside　the　door　were　four　men。　
I　glanced　back　at　Jessica。　Her　eyes　were　fixed　on　the　path　ahead　and　she　moved　
briskly。　She　didn't　look　
frightened—just　wary；　trying　to　not　attract　attention　to　herself。　
I　paused　without　thinking；　looking　back　at　the　four　men　with　a　strong　sense　of　
déjà　vu。　This　was　a　
different　road；　a　different　night；　but　the　scene　was　so　much　the　same。　One　of　
them　was　even　short　and　
dark。　As　I　stopped　and　turned　toward　them；　that　one　looked　up　in　interest。　
I　stared　back　at　him；　frozen　on　the　sidewalk。　
〃Bella？〃　Jess　whispered。　〃What　are　you　doing？〃　
I　shook　my　head；　not　sure　myself。　〃I　think　I　know　them〃　I　muttered。　
What　was　I　doing？　I　should　be　running　from　this　memory　as　fast　as　I　could；　
blocking　the　image　of　the　
four　lounging　men　from　my　mind；　protecting　myself　with　the　numbness　I　couldn't　
function　without。　Why　
was　I　stepping；　dazed；　into　the　street？　
It　seemed　too　coincidental　that　I　should　be　in　Port　Angeles　with　Jessica；　on　a　
dark　street　even。　My　eyes　
focused　on　the　short　one；　trying　to　match　the　features　to　my　memory　of　the　man　
who　had　threatened　me　
that　night　almost　a　year　ago。　I　wondered　if　there　was　any　way　I　would　
recognize　the　man；　if　it　was　really　
him。　That　particular　part　of　that　particular　evening　was　just　a　blur。　My　body　
remembered　it　better　than　my　
mind　did；　the　tension　in　my　legs　as　I　tried　to　decide　whether　to　run　or　to　
stand　my　ground；　the　dryness　in　
my　throat　as　I　struggled　to　build　a　decent　scream；　the　tight　stretch　of　skin　
across　my　knuckles　as　I　
clenched　my　hands　into　fists；　the　chills　on　the　back　of　my　neck　when　the　dark
…haired　man　called　me　
〃sugar。〃　
There　was　an　indefinite；　implied　kind　of　menace　to　these　men　that　had　nothing　
to　do　with　that　other　night。　
It　sprung　from　the　fact　that　they　were　strangers；　and　it　was　dark　here；　and　
they　outnumbered　us—nothing　
more　specific　than　that。　But　it　was　enough　that　Jessica's　voice　cracked　in　
panic　as　she　called　after　me。　
〃Bella；　e　on！〃　
I　ignored　her；　walking　slowly　forward　without　ever　making　the　conscious　
decision　to　move　my　feet。　I　
didn't　understand　why；　but　the　nebulous　threat　the　men　presented　drew　me　
toward　them。　It　was　a　
senseless　impulse；　but　I　hadn't　felt　any　kind　of　impulse　in　so　long　I　
followed　it。　
Something　unfamiliar　beat　through　my　veins。　Adrenaline；　I　realized；　long　
absent　from　my　system；　
drumming　my　pulse　faster　and　fighting　against　the　lack　of　sensation。　It　was　
strange—why　the　adrenaline　
when　there　was　no　fear？　It　was　almost　as　if　it　were　an　echo　of　the　last　time　
I'd　stood　like　this；　on　a　dark　
street　in　Port　Angeles　with　strangers。　
I　saw　no　reason　for　fear。　I　couldn't　imagine　anything　in　the　world　that　there　
was　left　to　be　afraid　of；　not　
physically　at　least。　One　of　the　few　advantages　of　losing　everything。　
I　was　halfway　across　the　street　when　Jess　caught　up　to　me　and　grabbed　my　arm。　
〃Bella！　You　can't　go　in　a　bar！〃　she　hissed。　
〃I'm　not　going　in；〃　I　said　absently；　shaking　her　hand　off。　〃I　just　want　to　see　
something〃　
〃Are　you　crazy？〃　she　whispered。　〃Are　you　suicidal？〃　
That　question　caught　my　attention；　and　my　eyes　focused　on　her。　
〃No；　I'm　not。〃　My　voice　sounded　defensive；　but　it　was　true。　I　wasn't　suicidal。　
Even　in　the　beginning；　when　
death　unquestionably　would　have　been　a　relief；　I　didn't　consider　it。　I　owed　
too　much　to　Charlie。　I　felt　too　
responsible　for　Renee。　I　had　to　think　of　them。　
And　I'd　made　a　promise　not　to　do　anything　stupid　or　reckless。　For　all　those　
reasons；　I　was　still　breathing。　
Remembering　that　promise。　I　felt　a　twinge　of　guilt。　
but　what　I　was　doing　fight　now　didn't　really　count。　It　wasn't　like　I　was　
taking　a　blade　to　my　wrists。　
Jess's　eyes　were　round；　her　mouth　hung　open。　Her　question　about　suicide　had　
been　rhetorical；　I　realized　
too　late。　
〃Go　eat；〃　I　encouraged　her；　waving　toward　the　fast　food。　I　didn't　like　the　way　
she　looked　at　me。　〃I'll　
catch　up　in　a　minute。〃　
I　turned　away　from　her；　back　to　the　men　who　were　watching　us　with　amused；　
curious　eyes。　
〃Bella；　stop　this　right　now！〃　
My　muscles　locked　into　place；　froze　me　where　I　stood。　Because　it　wasn't　
Jessica's　voice　that　rebuked　
me　now。　It　was　a　furious　voice；　a　familiar　voice；　a　beautiful　voice—soft　like　
velvet　even　though　it　was　
irate。　
It　was　his　voice—I　was　exceptionally　careful　not　to　think　his　name—and　I　was　
surprised　that　the　sound　
of　it　did　not　knock　me　to　my　knees；　did　not　curl　me　onto　the　pavement　in　a　
torture　of　loss。　But　there　was　
no　pain；　none　at　all。　
In　the　instant　that　I　heard　his　voice；　everything　was　very　clear。　Like　my　head　
had　suddenly　surfaced　out　
of　some　dark　pool。　I　was　more　aware　of　everything—sight；　sound；　the　feel　of　
the　cold　air　that　I　hadn't　
noticed　was　blowing　sharply　against　my　face；　the　smells　ing　from　the　open　
bar　door。　
I　looked　around　myself　in　shock。　
〃Go　back　to　Jessica；〃　the　lovely　voice　ordered；　still　angry。　〃You　promised—
nothing　stupid。〃　
I　was　alone。　Jessica　stood　a　few　feet　from　me；　staring　at　me　with　frightened　
eyes。　Against　the　wall；　the　
strangers　watched；　confused；　wondering　what　I　was　doing；　standing　there　
motionless　in　the　middle　of　the　
street。　
I　shook　my　head；　trying　to　understand。　I　knew　he　wasn't　there；　and　yet；　he　
felt　improbably　close；　close　
for　the　first　time　since　since　the　end。　The　anger　in　his　voice　was　concern；　
the　same　anger　that　was　once　
very　familiar—something　I　hadn't　heard　in　what　felt　like　a　lifetime。　
〃Keep　your　promise。〃　The　voice　was　slipping　away；　as　if　the　volume　was　being　
turned　down　on　a　radio。　
I　began　to　suspect　that　I　was　having　some　kind　of　hallucination。　Triggered；　no　
doubt；　by　the　
memory—the　deja　vu；　the　strange　familiarity　of　the　situation。　
I　ran　through　the　possibilities　quickly　in　my　head。　
Option　one：　I　was　crazy。　That　was　the　layman's　term　for　people　who　heard　
voices　in　their　heads。　
Possible。　
Option　two：　My　subconscious　mind　was　giving　me　what　it　thought　I　wanted。　This　
was　wish　fulfillment—a　
momentary　relief　from　pain　by　embracing　the　incorrect　idea　that　he　cared　
whether　I　lived　or　died。　
Projecting　what　he　would　have　said　if　A）　he　were　here；　and　B）　he　would　be　in　
any　way　bothered　by　
something　bad　happening　to　me。　
Probable。　
I　could　see　no　option　three；　so　I　hoped　it　was　the　second　option　and　this　was　
just　my　subconscious　
running　amuck；　rather　than　something　I　would　need　to　be　hospitalized　for。　
My　reaction　was　hardly　sane；　though—I　was　grateful。　The　sound　of　his　voice　
was　something　that　I'd　
feared　I　was　losing；　and　so；　more　than　anything　else；　I　felt　overwhelming　
gratitude　that　my　unconscious　
mind　had　held　onto　that　sound　better　than　my　conscious　one　had。　
I　was　not　allowed　to　think　of　him。　That　was　something　I　tried　to　be　very　
strict　about。　Of　course　I　slipped；　
I　was　only　human。　But　I　was　getting　better；　and　so　the　pain　was　something　I　
could　avoid　for　days　at　a　
time　now。　The　tradeoff　was　the　never…ending　numbness。　Between　pain　and　
nothing；　I'd　chosen　nothing。　
I　waited　for　the　pain　now。　I　was　not　numb—my　senses　felt　unusually　intense　
after　so　many　months　of　the　
haze—but　the　normal　pain　held　off。　The　only　ache　was　the　disappointment　that　
his　voice　was　fading。　
There　was　a　second　of　choice。　
The　wise　thing　would　be　to　run　away　from　this　potentially　destructive—and　
certainly　mentally　
unstable—development。　It　would　be　stupid　to　encourage　hallucinations。　
But　his　voice　was　fading。　
I　took　another　step　forward；　testing。　
〃Bella；　turn　around；〃　he　growled。　
I　sighed　in　relief。　The　anger　was　what　I　wanted　to　hear—false；　fabricated　
evidence　that　he　cared；　a　
dubious　gift　from　my　subconscious。　
Very　few　seconds　had　passed　while　I　sorted　this　all　out。　My　little　audience　
watched；　curious。　It　probably　
looked　like　I　was　just　dithering　over　whether　or　not　I　was　going　to　approach　
them。　How　could　they　guess　
that　I　was　standing　there　enjoying　an　unexpected　moment　of　insanity？　
〃Hi；〃　one　of　the　men　called；　his　tone　both　confident　and　a　bit　sarcastic。　He　
was　fair…skinned　and　
fair…haired；　and　he　stood　with　the　assurance　of　someone　who　thought　of　himself　
as　quite　good…looking。　I　
couldn't　tell　whether　he　was　or　not。　I　was　prejudiced。　
The　voice　in　my　head　answered　with　an　exquisite　snarl。　I　smiled；　and　the　
confident　man　seemed　to　take　
that　as　encouragement。　
〃Can　I　help　you　with　something？　You　look　lost。〃　He　grinned　and　winked。　
I　stepped　carefully　over　the　gutter；　running　with　water　that　was　black　in　the　
darkness。　
〃No。　I'm　not　lost。〃　
Now　that　I　was　closer—and　my　eyes　felt　oddly　in　focus—I　analyzed　the　shor