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3 eclipse月食-第47部分

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you。 I wouldn’t want one day without you。” 
“Well; that’s a relief;” he said。 
“Still 。 。 。 it doesn’t change anything。” 
“It’s nice to understand; though。 And I do understand your perspective; Bella; truly I do。 But I’d like it 
very much if you’d try to consider mine。” 
I’d sobered up by then; so I nodded and struggled to keep the frown off my face。 
His liquid gold eyes turned hypnotic as they held mine。 
“You see; Bella; I was always that boy。 In my world; I was already a man。 I wasn’t looking for love — 
no; I was far too eager to be a soldier for that; I thought of nothing but the idealized glory of the war that they 
were selling prospective draftees then — but if I had found 。 。 。” He paused; cocking his head to the side。 “I 
was going to say if I had found someone; but that won’t do。 If I had found you; there isn’t a doubt in my mind 
how I would have proceeded。 I was that boy; who would have — as soon as I discovered that you were 
what I was looking for — gotten down on one knee and endeavored to secure your hand。 I would have 
wanted you for eternity; even when the word didn’t have quite the same connotations。” 
He smiled his crooked smile at me。 
I stared at him with my eyes frozen wide。 
“Breathe; Bella;” he reminded me; smiling。 
I breathed。 
“Can you see my side; Bella; even a little bit?” 
And for one second; I could。 I saw myself in a long skirt and a highnecked lace blouse with my hair piled 
up on my head。 I saw Edward looking dashing in a light suit with a bouquet of wildflowers in his hand; sitting 
beside me on a porch swing。 
I shook my head and swallowed。 I was just having Anne of Green Gables flashbacks。 
“The thing is; Edward;” I said in a shaky voice; avoiding the question; “in my mind; marriage and eternity 
are not mutually exclusive or mutually inclusive concepts。 And since we’re living in my world for the moment; 

maybe we should go with the times; if you know what I mean。” 
 “But on the other hand;” he countered; “you will soon be leaving time behind you altogether。 So why 
should the transitory customs of one local culture affect the decision so much?” 
 I pursed my lips。 “When in Rome?” 
 He laughed at me。 “You don’t have to say yes or no today; Bella。 It’s good to understand both sides; 
though; don’t you think?” 
 “So your condition 。 。 。 ?” 
 “Is still in effect。 I do see your point; Bella; but if you want me to change you myself。 。 。 。” 
 “Dum; dum; dahdum;” I hummed under my breath。 I was going for the wedding march; but it sort of 
sounded like a dirge。 


Time continued to move too fast。 
 That night flew by dreamlessly; and then it was morning and graduation was staring me in the face。 I had a 
pile of studying to do for my finals that I knew I wouldn’t get halfway through in the few days I had left。 
 When I came down for breakfast; Charlie was already gone。 He’d left the paper on the table; and that 
reminded me that I had some shopping to do。 I hoped the ad for the concert was still running; I needed the 
phone number to get the stupid tickets。 It didn’t seem like much of a gift now that all the surprise was gone。 Of 
course; trying to surprise Alice wasn’t the brightest plan to begin with。 
 I meant to flip right back to the entertainment section; but the thick black headline caught my attention。 I 
felt a thrill of fear as I leaned closer to read the frontpage story。 

  SEATTLE TERRORIZED BY SLAYINGS 

   It’s been less than a decade since the city of Seattle was the hunting ground for the most prolific 
   serial killer in U。S。 history。 Gary Ridgway; the Green River Killer; was convicted of the murders of 
   48 women。 


   And now a beleaguered Seattle must face the possibility that it could be harboring an even more 
   horrifying monster at this very moment。 
   The police are not calling the recent rash of homicides and disappearances the work of a serial 
   killer。 Not yet; at least。 They are reluctant to believe so much carnage could be the work of one 
   individual。 This killer — if; in fact; it is one person — would then be responsible for 39 linked 
   homicides and disappearances within the last three months alone。 In parison; Ridgway’s 48 
   count murder spree was scattered over a 21year period。 If these deaths can be linked to one man; 
   then this is the most violent rampage of serial murder in American history。 
   The police are leaning instead toward the theory that gang activity is involved。 This theory is 
   supported by the sheer number of victims; and by the fact that there seems to be no pattern in the 
   choice of victims。 
   From Jack the Ripper to Ted Bundy; the targets of serial killings are usually connected by 
   similarities in age; gender; race; or a bination of the three。 The victims of this crime wave range 
   in age from 15yearold honor student Amanda Reed; to 67yearold retired postman Omar Jenks。 
   The linked deaths include a nearly even 18 women and 21 men。 The victims are racially diverse: 
   Caucasians; African Americans; Hispanics and Asians。 
   The selection appears random。 The motive seems to be killing for no other reason than to kill。 
   So why even consider the idea of a serial killer? 
   There are enough similarities in the modus operandi to rule out unrelated crimes。 Every victim 
   discovered has been burned to the extent that dental records were necessary for identification。 The 
   use of some kind of accelerant; like gasoline or alcohol; seems to be indicated in the conflagrations; 
   however; no traces of any accelerant have yet been found。 All of the bodies have been carelessly 
   dumped with no attempt at concealment。 
   More gruesome yet; most of the remains show evidence of brutal violence — bones crushed and 
   snapped by some kind of tremendous pressure — which medical examiners believe occurred 

  before the time of death; though these conclusions are difficult to be sure of; considering the state of 
  the evidence。 
  Another similarity that points to the possibility of a serial: every crime is perfectly clean of evidence; 
  aside from the remains themselves。 Not a fingerprint; not a tire tread mark nor a foreign hair is left 
  behind。 There have been no sightings of any suspect in the disappearances。 
  Then there are the disappearances themselves — hardly low profile by any means。 None of the 
  victims are what could be viewed as easy targets。 None are runaways or the homeless; who vanish 
  so easily and are seldom reported missing。 Victims have vanished from their homes; from a fourth 
  story apartment; from a health club; from a wedding reception。 Perhaps the most astounding: 30 
  yearold amateur boxer Robert Walsh entered a movie theater with a date; a few minutes into the 
  movie; the woman realized that he was not in his seat。 His body was found only three hours later 
  when fire fighters were called to the scene of a burning trash Dumpster; twenty miles away。 
  Another pattern is present in the slayings: all of the victims disappeared at night。 
  And the most alarming pattern? Acceleration。 Six of the homicides were mitted in the first 
  month; 11 in the second。 Twentytwo have occurred in the last 10 days alone。 And the police are 
  no closer to finding the responsible party than they were after the first charred body was 
  discovered。 
  The evidence is conflicting; the pieces horrifying。 A vicious new gang or a wildly active serial killer? 
  Or something else the police haven’t yet conceived of? 
  Only one conclusion is indisputable: something hideous is stalking Seattle。 


It took me three tries to read the last sentence; and I realized the problem was my shaking hands。 
“Bella?” 
Focused as I was; Edward’s voice; though quiet and not totally unexpected; made me gasp and whirl。 
He was leaning in the doorway; his eyebrows pulled together。 Then he was suddenly at my side; taking my 
hand。 
“Did I startle you? I’m sorry。 I did knock。 。 。 。” 
“No; no;” I said quickly。 “Have you seen this?” I pointed to the paper。 
A frown creased his forehead。 
“I hadn’t seen today’s news yet。 But I knew it was g
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