No Country for Old Men-第4章

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　he　just　stood　there　holding　the　　jar　with　the　water　beading　cold　on　the　glass；　looking　out　the　window　and　down　the　　highway　toward　the　lights。　he　stood　there　for　a　long　time。

when　he　went　back　to　the　bedroom　he　got　his　shorts　off　the　floor　and　put　them　on　and　　went　into　the　bathroom　and　shut　the　door。　then　he　went　through　into　the　second　　bedroom　and　pulled　the　case　from　under　the　bed　and　opened　it。

he　sat　in　the　floor　with　the　case　between　his　legs　and　delved　down　into　the　bills　and　　dredged　them　up。　the　packets　were　twenty　deep。　he　shoved　them　back　down　into　the　　case　and　jostled　the　case　on　the　floor　to　level　the　money。　times　twelve。　he　could　do　the　　math　in　his　head。　two　point　four　million。　all　used　bills。　he　sat　looking　at　it。　you　have　　to　take　this　seriously；　he　said。　you　cant　treat　it　like　luck。

he　closed　the　bag　and　redid　the　fasteners　and　shoved　it　under　the　bed　and　rose　and　stood　　looking　out　the　window　at　the　stars　over　the　rocky　escarpment　to　the　north　of　the　town。

dead　quiet。　not　even　a　dog。　but　it　wasnt　the　money　that　he　woke　up　about。　are　you　　dead　out　there？　he　said。　hell　no；　you　aint　dead。

she　woke　while　he　was　getting　dressed　and　turned　in　the　bed　to　watch　him。

llewelyn？

yeah。

what　are　you　doin？

gettin　dressed。

where　are　you　goin？

out。

where　are　you　goin；　baby？

somethin　i　forgot　to　do。　ill　be　back。

what　are　you　goin　to　do？

he　opened　the　drawer　and　took　the　。45　out　and　ejected　the　clip　and　checked　it　and　put　it　　back　and　put　the　pistol　in　his　belt。　he　turned　and　looked　at　her。

im　fixin　to　go　do　somethin　dumbern　hell　but　im　goin　anyways。　if　i　dont　e　back　tell　　mother　i　love　her。

your　mothers　dead　llewelyn。

well　ill　tell　her　myself　then。

she　sat　up　in　the　bed。　youre　scarin　the　hell　out　of　me；　llewelyn。　are　you　in　some　kind　　of　trouble？

no。　go　to　sleep。

go　to　sleep？

ill　be　back　in　a　bit。

damn　you；　llewelyn。

he　stepped　back　into　the　doorway　and　looked　at　her。　what　if　i　was　to　not　e　back？　is　　them　your　last　words？

she　followed　him　down　the　hallway　to　the　kitchen　pulling　on　her　robe。　he　took　an　　empty　gallon　jug　from　under　the　sink　and　stood　filling　it　at　the　tap。

do　you　know　what　time　it　is？　she　said。

yeah。　i　know　what　time　it　is。

baby　i　dont　want　you　to　go。　where　are　you　goin？　i　dont　want　you　to　go。

well　darlin　were　eye　to　eye　on　that　cause　i　dont　want　to　go　neither。　ill　be　back。　dont　　wait　up　on　me。

he　pulled　in　at　the　filling　station　under　the　lights　and　shut　off　the　motor　and　got　the　　survey　map　from　the　glovebox　and　unfolded　it　across　the　seat　and　sat　there　studying　it。

he　finally　marked　where　he　thought　the　trucks　should　be　and　then　he　traced　a　route　　cross　country　back　to　harkles　cattle…gate。　he　had　a　good　set　of　all…terrain　tires　on　the　　truck　and　two　spares　in　the　bed　but　this　was　some　hard　country。　he　sat　looking　at　the　　line　hed　drawn。　then　he　bent　and　studied　the　terrain　and　drew　another　one。　then　he　just　　sat　there　looking　at　the　map。　when　he　started　the　engine　and　pulled　out　onto　the　　highway　it　was　two…fifteen　in　the　morning；　the　road　deserted；　the　truck　radio　in　this　　outland　country　dead　even　of　static　from　one　end　of　the　band　to　the　other。

he　parked　at　the　gate　and　got　out　and　opened　it　and　drove　through　and　got　out　and　　closed　it　again　and　stood　listening　to　the　silence。　then　he　got　back　in　the　truck　and　　drove　south　on　the　ranch　road。

he　kept　the　truck　in　two　wheel　drive　and　drove　in　second　gear。　the　light　of　the　unrisen　　moon　before　him　spread　out　along　the　dark　placard　hills　like　scrimlights　in　a　theatre。

turning　below　where　hed　parked　that　morning　onto　what　may　have　been　an　old　　wagonroad　that　bore　eastward　across　harkles　land。　when　the　moon　did　rise　it　sat　　swollen　and　pale　and　ill　formed　among　the　hills　to　light　up　all　the　land　about　and　he　　turned　off　the　headlights　of　the　truck。

a　half　hour　on　he　parked　and　walked　out　along　the　crest　of　a　rise　and　stood　looking　over　　the　country　to　the　east　and　to　the　south。　the　moon　up。　a　blue　world。　visible　shadows　of　　clouds　crossing　the　floodplain。　hurrying　on　the　slopes。　he　sat　in　the　scabrock　with　his　　boots　crossed　before　him。　no　coyotes。　nothing。　for　a　mexican　dopedealer。　yeah。　well。

everbody　is　somethin。

when　he　got　back　to　the　truck　he　left　the　trace　and　steered　by　the　moon。　he　crossed　　under　a　volcanic　headland　at　the　upper　end　of　the　valley　and　turned　south　again。　he　had　　a　good　memory　for　country。　he　was　crossing　terrain　hed　scouted　from　the　ridge　earlier　　that　day　and　he　stopped　again　and　got　out　to　listen。　when　he　came　back　to　the　truck　he　　pried　the　plastic　cover　from　the　domelight　and　took　the　bulb　out　and　put　it　in　the　ashtray。

he　sat　with　the　flashlight　and　studied　the　map　again。　when　next　he　stopped　he　just　shut　　off　the　engine　and　sat　with　the　window　down。　he　sat　there　for　a　long　time。

he　parked　the　truck　a　half　mile　above　the　upper　end　of　the　caldera　and　got　the　plastic　　jug　of　water　out　of　the　floor　and　put　the　flashlight　in　his　hip　pocket。　then　he　took　　the　。45　off　the　seat　and　shut　the　door　quietly　with　his　thumb　on　the　latchbutton　and　　turned　and　set　off　toward　the　trucks。

they　were　as　hed　left　them；　hunkered　down　on　their　shot…out　tires。　he　approached　with　　the　。45　cocked　in　his　hand。　dead　quiet。　could　be　because　of　the　moon。　his　own　shadow　　was　more　pany　than　he　would　have　liked。　ugly　feeling　out　here。　a　trespasser。

among　the　dead。　dont　get　weird　on　me；　he　said。　you　aint　one　of　em。　not　yet。

the　door　of　the　bronco　was　open。　when　he　saw　that　he　dropped　to　one　knee。　he　set　the　　waterjug　on　the　ground。　you　dumb…ass；　he　said。　here　you　are。　too　dumb　to　live。

he　turned　slowly；　skylighting　the　country。　the　only　thing　he　could　hear　was　his　heart。

he　made　his　way　to　the　truck　and　crouched　by　the　open　door。　the　man　had　fallen　　sideways　over　the　console。　still　trussed　in　the　shoulderbelt。　fresh　blood　everywhere。

moss　took　the　flashlight　from　his　pocket　and　shrouded　the　lens　in　his　fist　and　turned　it　　on。　hed　been　shot　through　the　head。　no　lobos。　no　leones。　he　shone　the　hooded　light　　into　the　cargo　space　behind　the　seats。　everything　gone。　he　switched　off　the　light　and　　stood。　he　walked　out　slowly　to　where　the　other　bodies　lay。　the　shotgun　was　gone。　the　　moon　was　already　a　quarter　ways　up。　all　but　day　bright。　he　felt　like　something　in　a　jar。

he　was　half　way　back　up　the　caldera　to　his　truck　when　something　made　him　stop。　he　　crouched；　holding　the　cocked　pistol　across　his　knee。　he　could　see　the　truck　in　the　　moonlight　at　the　top　of　the　rise。　he　looked　off　to　one　side　of　it　to　see　it　the　better。　there　　was　someone　standing　beside　it。　then　they　were　gone。　there　is　no　description　of　a　fool；　　he　said；　that　you　fail　to　satisfy。　now　youre　goin　to　die。

he　shoved　the　。45　into　the　back　of　his　belt　and　set　off　at　a　trot　for　the　lava　ridge。　in　the　　distance　he　heard　a　truck　start。　lights　came　on　at　the　top　of　the　rise。　he　began　to　run。

by　the　time　he　got　to　the　rocks　the　truck　was　halfway　down　the　caldera；　the　lights　　bobbing　over　the　bad　ground。　he　looked　for　something　to　hide　behind。　no　time。　he　lay　　face　down　with　his　head　between　his　forearms　in　the　grass　and　waited。　either　theyd　　seen　him　or　they　hadnt。　he　waited。　the　truck　went　by。　when　it　was　gone　he　rose　and　　began　to　clamber　up　the　slope。

halfway　up　he　stopped　and　stood　sucking　air　and　trying　to　listen。　the　lights　were　　somewhere　below　him。　he　couldnt　see　them。　he　climbed　on。　after　a　while　he　could　see　　the　dark　shapes　of　the　vehicles　down　there。　then　the　truck　came　back　up　the　caldera　　with　the　lights　off。

he　lay　flattened　against　the　rocks。　a　spotlight　went　skittering　over　the　lava　and　back　　again。　the　truck　slowed。　he　could　hear　the　engine　idling。　the　slow　lope　of　the　cam。　big　　block　engine。　the　spotlight　swept　over　the　rocks　again。　its　all　right；　he　said。　you　need　　to　be　put　out　of　your　misery。　be　the　best　thing　for　everbody。

the　engine　revved　slightly　and　idled　down　again。　deep　guttural　tone　to　the　exhaust。

cam　and　headers　and　god　knows　what　else。　after　a　while　it　moved　on　in　the　dark。

when　he　got　to　the　crest　of　the　ridge　he　crouched　and　took　the　。45　out　of　his　belt　and　　uncocked　it　and　put　it　back　again　and　looked　out　to　the　north　and　to　the　east。　no　sign　of　　the　truck。

how　would　you　like　to　be　out　there　in　your　old　pickup　tryin　to　outrun　that　thing？　he　said。

then　he　realized　that　he　would　never　see　his　truck　again。　well；　he　said。　theres　lots　of　　things　you　aint　goin　to　see　again。

the　spotlight　came　on　again　at　the　head　of　the　caldera　and　moved　across　the　ridge。

moss　lay　on　his　stomach　watching。　it　came　back　again。

if　you　knew　there　was　somebody　out　here　afoot　that　had　two　million　dollars　of　your　　money；　at　what　point　would　you　quit　lookin　for　em？

thats　right。　there　aint　no　such　a　point。

he　lay　listening。　he　couldnt　hear　the　truck。　after　a　while　he　rose　and　made　his　way　　down　the　far　side　of　the　ridge。　studying　the　country。　the　floodplain　out　there　broad　and　　quiet　in　the　moonlight。　no　way　to　cross　it　and　nowhere　else　to　go。　well　bubba；　what　are　　your　plans　now？

its　four　oclock　in　the　mornin。　do　you　know　where　your　darlin　boy　is　at？

ill　tell　you　what。　why　dont　you　just　get　in　your　truck　and　go　on　out　there　and　take　th