陌路之人 The Stranger on the Road

西部魔影故事 作者：River Jaffe

从韧城到进化城，是一段平淡、荒凉的路。零星的仙人掌伴着尘土铺展了一里又一里，连接起天空的一头和另一头。只是路尽头那团被捏紧压实的土块，似乎永远都那么远。牛仔目不转睛地盯着前方，不敢怠慢。他带的水足够他走完这一趟，带着的牲畜也能让雇主稳赚一笔。他唯一要做的就是让自己和牛群平平安安地走完这段路。很简单的。

The road from Tenacity to Progress was a flat, barren thing, unspooling across miles and miles of cactus country from one edge of the sky to the other—but that pinched end of packed dirt in the distance never seemed to get any closer. The cowboy stared down it dutifully. He had enough water to get him to town, and enough cattle to earn his employer a tidy sum at market, all he had to do was make it there with himself and the herd in one piece. Simple enough.

If the cows saw any trace of apprehension, they did him the good grace of not acknowledging it. For that, he was grateful. Instead they walked and lowed and tried to graze despite the lifeless earth, eyes shining black and flat under the pitiless noonday sun, keeping apace with the steady hoofbeats of his mare. They were on track to make it to Progress before nightfall, and that was a boon all its own. Strange beasts had been spotted around these parts after the sun went down: hellhounds with teeth the size of a man’s forearm; unburied dead still bloated and shambling across the cracked earth; Outsiders hunting down sorry souls who bet untold riches at the casino and lost it all, only to try and run from the wages of their sin. No sir, ain’t nothing good ramblin’ in the dark chill of the desert night.

这群牛可能早就看出他心里很慌，可它们很得体地没有声张。为此，他感激它们。它们只是径直向前走，不时低头，想在这片了无生气的土地上找草吃，漠然的黑瞳映着无情的正午烈日，脚步紧跟着他胯下的雌马。他应该能在入夜前赶到进化城，单这一点就足以让他谢天谢地了。这一带有许多奇怪的野兽会在日落以后出没：嘴里一颗牙顶成年人一条胳膊的地狱犬；死了没埋就自己乱走的肿胀尸体；追赌债的外民——鬼知道被他们猎杀的那些赌徒在桌上豪注的时候输掉了多少身家。所以不用怀疑，入夜过后苍凉的沙漠上不会有什么好事。

Apparently the cowboy wasn’t alone in traveling under the protection of daylight. It was just a speck, at first, moving slow as the sun in the sky, but there—a dark shadow crowned with a wide-brimmed hat on the road ahead. The cowboy hadn’t expected to see anybody until he got to where it forked north to Fort Nox. There weren't many folks left who used this particular old trail, and weren’t many who still lived out in a run-down two-street like Tenacity, neither, so the question remained.

From this distance, he could spy the hem of the stranger’s jacket dragging through the dirt behind him, the man hunched over and hiding in the shadow of his own hat as though the sun had insulted him personally. His course did not change, his speed did not quicken, and so the herd and the cowboy caught up to the stranger, step by step.

在白昼庇护之下赶路的显然不只牛仔一个人。最开始只是一个黑斑，移动的速度不比天上的日头更快。但轮廓渐渐清晰：一个戴着宽边帽的黑影走在前方。牛仔没想到，他还没到北上通往夜堡的那条岔路就能遇上别人。这条老路已经没什么人走了，当然也没几个人还生活在那个拢共就两条街道的韧城，所以这就更奇怪了。

The horse stopped first. Her ears flattened against her neck, breath huffing out in agitated gusts as she shifted uneasily beneath the saddle. Any breeze drifting along the road died promptly, like a town shuttering itself against some fearful creature slouching in from parts unknown.

The cowboy offered a simple greeting, voice hoarse from dust and disuse, “Howdy, friend.”

隔着这么远的距离，他只能隐约看清陌生人的皮衣下摆拖在身后的尘土中。那个人耸着肩，躲在帽檐的阴影下，像是在承受太阳的辱骂。他前进的方向没有变，速度也没有加快，所以牛仔带着牛群一步步地赶上了他。

Without so much as a response, the stranger collapsed onto the barren earth.

“Whoa there—” In one swift movement the cowboy swung down from the saddle, landing and hefting the stranger into his arms so he wasn’t lying face down in the dirt. The fella was lighter than the cowboy thought he’d be, as if beneath the coat he had bird bones, hollow and wanting. Smoke and copper and heat lingered on his scent.

最先停下脚步的是那匹马。她的耳朵垂了下来，急促不安地喘息着，隔着马鞍也能感受到她的紧张。路上的风骤然停止，就像是一个镇子闭门锁户，提防着未知地带爬进来的可怕生物。

The stranger muttered something, coughing while his cracked lips moved as if in prayer or possession, barely a whisper. “Water...”

“Oh! Of course,” The cowboy reached for the canteen on his hip, knowing it was half empty already but haunted by childhood stories—tales of travelers who didn’t help wandering strangers on the road, how they were punished for it when those wandering strangers turned out to be spirits or witches or some such. This particular stranger felt real enough. He accepted the offer of the canteen gratefully, downing swallows that parched the cowboy’s throat, but a decision had been made; no changing his mind now.

牛仔略略致意，沙哑地说了声“好啊，朋友。”

The stranger wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve, now as bone dry as the canteen in his hand. As if lifted of some fell curse, golden-brown eyes ringed with exhaustion finally rose to meet their erstwhile savior from under the brim of that wide leather hat. He couldn’t have been much older than the cowboy himself, but whatever trials of the desert this man had survived rendered him haggard: skin sallow, pale hair stuck to his sweat-soaked brow—and yet there was something unearthly about him, beautiful in a way that evoked an animal fear deep in the cowboy’s gut. Beautiful like a wildfire. Beautiful like a well-polished knife.

“Much obliged,“ the stranger managed through a weak smile, handing the canteen back to him. “I am in your debt.”

那个陌生人几乎没有任何回应就瘫倒在了贫瘠的地上。

The cowboy, suddenly realizing that staring was impolite, swallowed the lump that had appeared in his throat. “Ain’t no trouble. Are you alright?”

As if to make a point, the stranger rose to his feet, only to double over in a fit of coughing despite himself. It was little more than a reflex for the cowboy to stand and steady the man, holding his arm and gentling his shuddering back. Funny, that the shoulder under his palm prickled as his fingers wrapped around it. Curiosity was a deadly entertainment, particularly with a man such as this, but it reared its head in spite of any propriety the cowboy could muster.

“哎我——”牛仔麻利地从马鞍上旋身跳下，揽起陌生人，免得他面朝下闷死在尘土中。这家伙比牛仔预料中更轻，仿佛他身体里长的是鸟骨，有填不满的空洞。而他身上的味道闻着像是黄铜和炙热的尘烟。

He released his hold on the stranger’s arm, catching the faintest glimpse of something white and downy beneath the close-kept shadows of his coat. Feathers. When the cowboy looked up, he found the other man staring back.

陌生人低声说了什么，干裂的嘴唇呼出一句不知是祈祷还是胡话，勉强能听清。“水……”

“啊！当然。”牛仔摸向腰间的水壶，他清楚里面只剩下一半了，但许许多多童话故事的情节浮现在眼前——旅者没有帮助路上的陌生人，结果陌生人其实是幽灵或者女巫什么的，最后让旅者大吃苦头。和眼前这番景象一样。那个陌生人感激地接过水壶，大口大口地灌下去，看得牛仔喉咙一阵涩痒。不过帮人帮到底，现在反悔已经来不及了。

陌生人用袖子抹了把嘴，现在他手里的水壶彻底干了。似乎是某种险恶的诅咒被忽然解除，他金棕色的双眼终于拖着疲惫的神色越过宽边帽沿望向这位渴盼多时的大救星。他的年纪不比牛仔大多少，但沙漠里的种种磨难令他很是沧桑：面色灰黄，惨白的头发被汗水粘在额头上，而且他身上有种怪异的气质，是种说不清的美感，让牛仔从肚子里泛出一股最原始的恐惧。美得像野火。美得像一把磨快了的刀。

“感激不尽。”陌生人勉强露出虚弱的微笑，递过水壶，“我欠你一份恩情。”

牛仔突然意识到自己盯着别人看并不礼貌，咽下了喉咙中干涩的硬结。“不打紧。你没事吧？”

似乎是要用行动说明，那个陌生人站了起来，但却随着一阵剧烈的咳嗽弯下了腰。牛仔几乎是下意识地跟着一起站起来扶住他，一只手托着胳膊，一只手轻拍后背。有意思的是，他搂住陌生人肩膀的时候掌心传来一阵刺痛。好奇心是一种能害死人的快感，尤其面对的还是这样一个陌生人。但牛仔的好奇心偏偏在这时候作祟，甚至让他顾不上体面。

他放开陌生人的胳膊，往他裹紧的大衣里瞥了短短的一眼，窥见了一抹雪白、毛绒的东西。羽毛。牛仔抬起目光，发现陌生人正盯着他。

“我没事。”陌生人答道。他收紧下巴，似乎咬紧了什么难以描述的东西。他看着牛仔，帽檐下射出如炬的目光，“冒昧问一句，你这是要去哪？”

“I’m fine,” the stranger answered, setting his jaw against something unnamed and unspoken between his teeth. He watched him now, gaze bright beneath the shade of his hat. “Don’t mean to impose, but where you headed?”

“Progress,” the cowboy answered.

“进化城。”牛仔答道。

The stranger thought for a moment, eyes pitting through him with no trouble at all. “That’s in an amenable direction, and travel is more pleasant with company. May I join you?”

And so they walked.

陌生人思索片刻，眼神轻轻松松刺穿了他。“那个方向的话，好说。路上有伴也安稳些。我跟你一起走，如何？”

The stranger didn’t stumble again, carrying on his slow gait alongside the uneasy plodding pace of the cowboy’s mare. He stepped light, this wandering stranger, footfalls unvoiced and unimpeded by rock or scrub or the memento mori of dried-out bones that littered the trail. Their mutual quiet swam with the midday heat along the horizon.

“Why’re you headed to Progress, if you don’t mind me askin’?” he offered by way of conversation.

于是他们一起上路了。

“To catch a train,” the stranger replied simply, as if there was no more explanation to give. The cowboy nodded.

Silence was everyone’s closest friend and bitterest enemy on the road—safe in its reassurance that danger ain’t near, but potent in its foreboding. A promise that whatever’s out to get you ain’t here... yet. The cows knew this, and they watched with a prey’s patience, a single living thing with a hundred eyes all fixed on the stranger in the wide-brimmed hat.

陌生人再没有踉跄，缓步跟在牛仔的雌马身边。马儿的脚步变得不安且沉重。这个在荒野中游荡的陌生人，步伐轻盈，落地无声，避开了一路上散落的石块、枯枝和骷髅骸骨。二人之间的沉默伴着正午的热气飘荡在地平线之间。

“I’d like to repay your kindness,” the stranger broke that sacred silence, squinting into the horizon. “Don’t much care for being in debt.”

The cowboy looked down at him, a smile summoned to his face not by any gladness in his heart but by the demands of gentility. “Naw, don’t worry ‘bout it none. Just aidin’ a fellow traveler.”

“你为什么要去进化城，方便告诉我吗？”牛仔先开腔了。

“You’re too kind,” the stranger said, an observation, not a pleasantry. “I must insist. I cannot let such generosity go unanswered.”

The manner of those words struck the cowboy as strange, and that deadly entertainment called curiosity circled around once more. The sweat that trickled down the back of his neck was cold as ice as he asked against his better judgment, “What did you have in mind?”

“搭火车。”陌生人只回答了三个字，似乎觉得没有详细解释的必要。牛仔点了点头。

The stranger shrugged, easy-as-you-please. “How about an old tale of the West? One I reckon you might not’ve heard.”

Despite the dead wind and fierce heat, gooseflesh rose on the cowboy’s skin. “I couldn’t possibly trouble you for that—”

寂静是旅途中的良伴，也是仇敌——平和得让人安心，但也压抑得让人紧绷。没有迹象表明会出现吃人的野兽，但只是眼下的迹象。牛群明白这一点，它们正在以猎物的耐心观望着，一百只眼睛紧盯住那个带宽边帽的陌生人。

“Consider it a payment,” the stranger replied, a familiar forlorn tug tucked into the upturn of his smile.

It was a pitying thing to the cowboy’s eyes, the same regretful sigh his father had made, leading prize cattle out to slaughter when the crops rotted in the field and there was nothing anyone could do to save them.

“我想报答你的恩情。”陌生人打破了神圣的寂静，斜眼望向天边，“欠债不还，不太好。”

The cowboy’s throat closed around something shaped like anticipation as the stranger began his tale.

牛仔低头看着他，脸上表现出的笑容并非出于内心的喜悦而是拘谨的礼貌，“倒也不用，没多大事。大家都是赶路的。”

“你太善良了。”陌生人说，这是他的结论，不是客套话。“我必须报答。不能让你的慷慨有来无回。”

No one knows who prophesied this one, since the real prophets were killed for their truths long ago, and any who profess the same nowadays are selling snake oil. But this is a real one, from the age before the fall of Heaven. Back when a fella felt the joy of corruption and the sting of sanctity, because each of those meant something when they had the other. Now, everything out here is profane—but I digress.

There is a beginning of all things, and there is an end of all things. Ain’t no stopping the beginning, since it’s already done and begun. Ain’t no way to stop that we are here, that we have been here, and that we done the land wrong. But the ending... Well. It is said that the end of all things will be upon us after the fall of Heaven’s gates, when Hell and man have bled the land dry, and rendered us all unto a final judgment.

他的措辞让牛仔觉得有点怪，而那种害死人的好奇又涌上来了。冰凉的汗水沿着他后颈向下淌，他失去了判断力，开口就问：“那你打算怎么报答？”

The flows of life and death will become commerce, taken in by misers of industry and churned on machines of smoke and brimstone. I reckon this is already in motion, if you heard tell of the Sulfur Rail and its mechanical devil-king.

Tidings of the end-times will arrive on the backs of five Harbingers, heralds from all corners of the earth.

陌生人耸耸肩，一副悉听尊便的从容。“来自大西部的一则古老传说怎么样？保准是你没听过的。”

From the South: The First Harbinger rides an ivory steed, conquering all in her wake. Any who stand in her way shall kneel, or burn.

From the West: The Second Harbinger leaves the land of Angels, delivering retribution upon those who slaughtered the innocent and damned the holy. Forged in love, broken in death, tempered in vengeance.

虽然无云无风，热气灼人，但牛仔却浑身泛起了鸡皮疙瘩。“怎么好意思让你……”

From the North: The Third Harbinger is one with shadow and smoke, balancing the bloody ledgers of sin on the edge of her knife. She is Our Lady of Restitution.

From the East: The Fourth Harbinger travels through the deep waters of the world, his appetite for all things unsated and unstoppable. He’ll consume everything until there ain’t nothing left to consume.

“就当是我的报偿吧。”陌生人答道。他弯起的嘴角上，掺杂着一股熟悉的凄凉。

From Above, So Below: The final harbinger walks with death at his side, a specter sowing decay with every step. He harvests the living crop of man, reaping souls to carry beyond the bounds of Heaven and Hell and into an Unknown Country.

These five will ride together. They will topple the wicked who reap the bounty of imbalance, lay low devils and behemoths of steel, strike down the King of the Sulfur Rail himself.

这一幕在牛仔的眼里太值得同情了，他的父亲也曾流露过同样无奈的叹息。当时他的父亲要带着最上等的牛去屠宰场，只能让庄稼烂在地里，没有任何人能够挽救。

The balance of the West is shifting. The coming of the clockwork angel and the gunslinger’s revival were just the beginning—now the Harbingers are here to end what they started. Some say their arrival is what beckons the storm of chaos to wash the West clean of all its mired sins. Some say they will punish the wicked and usher in a new age of man. Most think they’re simply here to raze us all and be done with it—

牛仔闭上嘴，忍住没有吐露某种类似期待的话。陌生人开始了讲述。

The stranger swayed, throat catching and coughing once more, and in the span of a panicked heartbeat the cowboy leapt down from the saddle to try and catch the stranger before he could fall again. This close he could see the forlorn furrow on the stranger’s brow, how he met the cowboy’s eyes with an exhaustion that ran marrow-deep.

“What do you think?” the cowboy asked. “About the Harbingers? What’re they gonna do?”

没人知道是谁留下了这个预言，所有先知都因为他们所讲述的真相而被杀害了，而现今依然自称先知的人实际上都是卖蛇油膏的贩子。不过这个预言倒是货真价实，流传自天堂坠落以前的时代。在那个时候，人能感受到堕落带来的欢愉和圣洁伴随的刺痛，因为当人兼具二者时，它们彼此才有意义。现如今，这里的一切都是罪恶——抱歉我有点偏离主题。

The stranger pondered this with a mirthless chuckle, voice rasping. He summoned up the thing in his throat and spit it to the ground: a clump of wet, bloody white feathers.

In a voice thick as coal smoke, the stranger rumbled, “I think we are all livin’ on borrowed time, hoss, and the powers that be ain’t keen on lettin’ us sinners remain in debt.”

万物皆有开端，万物皆有终末。开端不可阻挡，因为事实早已发生。当下也无法阻挡——我们已经来到这世界，已经侵犯了这片土地。但终末……好吧，据说万物的终末早晚要降临到我们头上，只等天堂之门崩落。等到地狱和人类耗干了大地，就将迎来所有人的最终审判。

生与死的流转将成为商品，被不眠不休的守财奴成批买走，放在浓烟与硫磺的机器上搅拌。依我看，这一切已经开始发生，不知你有没有听说过硫磺铁路，还有缔造它的机关恶魔。

末日的消息将由五位使者传达，他们是从四方而来的先驱者。

南方：第一使者骑着乳白的骏马，所到之处无不征服。任何挡路的人都要在这位女士面前跪拜，否则就烧成灰烬。

西方：第二使者离开了天使的土地，要报复一切滥杀无辜、玷污神圣的人。在爱意中铸造，在死亡中崩溃，在复仇中淬炼。

北方：第三使者带着黑影和烟尘，用短刀的锋刃清算血腥的罪业账目。她即为世间的偿赎女神。

东方：第四使者跨过世间至深之水域，他渴望着世间万物，胃口之大，永无饱足。他要吞食一切，直到世上再无可吞食之物。

上方与下方：最终使者与死亡同行，他是播种腐朽的幽灵。人类是待他收割的庄稼。他割走众人的灵魂，带去天堂与地狱之外的未知国度。

五位使者并驾齐驱。它们将推翻那些借失衡而谋利的恶徒，降服魔鬼和钢铁的巨兽，并且彻底击垮硫磺铁路之王。

大西部的平衡正在发生偏移。那位机械天使，还有那位快枪手的复活仅仅是个开端——现如今使者们已经到来，为开端带来终末。有人说他们的来临预示着混沌的风暴即将冲刷大西部，涤清这里淤积的罪孽。有人说他们会对奸邪降下惩戒，引领属于人类的新纪元。但多数人觉得，他们只是来杀光我们所有人，一了百了——

陌生人摇晃了一下，喉咙被卡住，再次开始剧烈咳嗽。在两下惊慌的心跳之间，牛仔从马鞍上跳下来，试图扶住陌生人，免得他再次摔倒。贴到这么近的距离，他可以看到陌生人眉间凄凉的沟壑，投回来的目光中透着深入骨髓的疲惫。

“你觉得……”牛仔问道，“那几位使者，是来干什么的？”

陌生人思索着，发出一声粗粝的苦笑。他呛出了卡在喉咙中的东西，啐到地上：一团粘稠的、带血的白色羽毛。

陌生人声音低沉，如同煤烟般厚重，“我觉得我们所有人都活在借来的时间里，哈，冥冥中的那股力量可不打算让我们这些罪人欠债不还。”

他缓缓站起，离开牛仔的支撑，挺直了躯干。牛仔刚才始终没有注意到，陌生人有一只手始终藏在袖子里，而现在当这只手伸出来时，他看到了一只尖利、邪恶的爪子——黑如沥青，红似地狱火，缓缓举起。褴褛的大衣和围巾，落在地上，就像一条响尾蛇蜕去了皮。陌生人有一半的身体在阳光下翻涌着黑暗，而他的左肩则绽放出白色羽毛，像皮肤病一样沿着胳膊和胸膛向下蔓延，在开领衬衫的中缝处与另一半身躯的黑影交锋。

He stood slowly, stepping away from the cowboy’s support and rising to his full height. The cowboy hadn’t noticed that one of the stranger’s hands was hidden beneath his sleeve, but as it emerged he could see fingers sharpened to points in some unholy claw—black as burning pitch and red as hellfire, reaching up to scrape off his battered coat and bandanna and drop them to the ground as a rattlesnake might, shedding its skin. Where half the stranger’s body roiled with darkness even under the light of day, his left shoulder erupted into white feathers, spread like an infection down his arm and across his chest and ending in a crackling hiss where they met the shadows on his skin between the parted collar of his shirt.

The cowboy couldn’t imagine how he ever thought this stranger was a man. He heard the stamp of his mare’s hooves behind him, the way she snorted and whinnied and rolled the whites of her eyes in fear at the thing that stood before them, so close that either one could reach out and touch the other. The cowboy could run. He should run, every fiber of his being screaming at him to turn tail and take his horse and tear through the desert in any direction that was away from here—but his knees trembled, his hands quaked, and the burning gaze from beneath the brim of that hat fixed him in place.

牛仔觉得不可思议——他居然一直以为这个陌生人是个人类。他听到马儿在身后跺着蹄子。面前这个东西让她鼻息紊乱，惊慌失措。他们之间的距离非常近，伸出手就能碰到彼此。牛仔可以逃跑，他也应该逃跑。身上的每一寸都在惊叫着让他转身跑开，骑上马随便找个方向跑得越远越好。但他两脚发软，两手打颤，宽边帽下那双炽热的目光把他定在了原地。

A train whistled in the distance, and somewhere in the back of the cowboy’s mind he registered that as strange, since they were miles from the nearest railroad. A shame that would be his final thought, but then again, the West don’t care one whit for the dignity of men. The stranger conjured a blade on his clawed wrist, stepped closer, closer—and only then, as he wiped away a tear rolling down the cowboy’s cheek with that heavenly hand, did he slip the hellish knife between his ribs.

“Much obliged,” the stranger murmured into his ear as the knife slid out of his body, as his body slid onto the ground, and as the cowboy’s soul slid out of both—collapsing to the dirt.

火车的汽笛声从远处传来，牛仔隐约感到奇怪，因为距离他们最近的铁道线路也在好几里开外。临终前的一刻，他却只有这个念头，实在有点遗憾。但毕竟，大西部根本不在乎人类的尊严。陌生人的右手里现出一把刀，然后走近一步，两步。他用那只天堂之手轻轻拭去牛仔脸上滚落的一滴泪珠，同时把地狱的尖刀插进牛仔的肋骨缝

“感激不尽。”陌生人在牛仔的耳畔低声呢喃，同时抽出刀，牛仔的身体滑落在地，无力地瘫倒，他的灵魂从肉体和刀尖中抽离出来。

远处的大地在颤抖。

The earth rumbled in the distance.

Had this been five, ten years ago, looking down at a body wouldn’t have meant nothin’ to the stranger. He wouldn’t have felt a damn thing, wouldn’t have stopped to think on it, wouldn’t even have left a body behind at the height of his power when his form was more shadow than man, and he was free to slake his bloodlust as he pleased—but it wasn’t five or ten years ago. Now he gazed at the wreckage of it all: the blood on his blade, the thin death rattle of the cowboy’s breath as his chest stilled, the horse galloping away for safer pastures that withered long ago. Damn the angels, damn their consciences.

如果换做五年，十年以前，低头望着一具尸体并不会让陌生人泛起任何涟漪。他不会有任何感觉，不会停下来想这件事，甚至鼎盛时期的他根本都不会留下尸体。那时的他更像是一道黑影而不是一个人，那时的他可以随心所欲地满足自己嗜血的欲望。可现在，已经不是那时了。现在他凝望着一地狼藉：刀上的血，牛仔濒死的喘息，胸膛渐渐静止，那匹马大步跑开，寻找远方早已枯萎的牧场。天使都该死，良心也该死。

He reached down to help up the wayward soul, reduced to a blank-eyed shade of a man, and rested a hand upon his shoulder. Where once was fear and curiosity and kindness, now there was nothing at all, staring into the unseen distance between life and death as if there were an answer on the horizon if only he looked hard enough. Do the dead see something in the world the rest of them miss? They seem so intent on nothing.

Well, they’d all find out soon enough.

那个任性的灵魂已经沦为目光空洞的幽影，他俯下身把牛仔的一只手搭在自己肩上，扶他站起来。那双眼睛里曾经的恐惧、好奇和善良，现在已经变得空荡荡，只是盯着生死之间的远方，似乎在那看不见的境界线上有着他要找寻的答案，他只需要再多看一会。死人能看到活人视而不见的东西吗？他们似乎都非常在意空无。

The earth shook beneath the stranger’s feet. The train whistled again, a scream into empty air like a thousand bellowing vultures scenting death on the wind, that roiling rumble deeper than thunder in its wake. It grew louder, and louder, and louder still, until the bowels of the cracked desert earth split asunder and from the chasm rose the stench of smoke, the screech of metal on tracks, and finally, the Sulfur Rail itself.

It was a beast of cinders and fire, ash and coal, a titan of steel machinery that dwarfed men and monsters with a grandiosity only outdone by the conductor of the train himself. The sight of it was enough to drive any sane mortal mad. The train’s hulking form cast a noonday shadow, blocking out a corner of the sun. A railroad formed up beneath it as the wheels churned and slowed and eventually came to a shuddering, seething stop.

行吧，反正他们很快就能知道答案了。

Steam greeted them as the doors hissed open. The stranger stepped onto the train, guiding the soul of the cowboy over to the devil serving as the ticket taker. The devil nodded at the exchange. This fare would do.

A foreign pang shuddered under his ribs as the soul shuffled toward the other passengers huddled in the next car over: rail barons and beggars, gentlemen and gunslingers, cowboys and angels, all riding the same sorry train to Hell. The stranger grimaced and turned back to the ticket taker as the doors shut behind him.

陌生人脚下的地面开始动摇。火车再次鸣笛，一声惊叫划破苍茫，如同一千只秃鹫嘶鸣着嗅探风中的死亡，随后的余音滚滚而至，比电闪后的雷鸣更阴沉。雷声越来越响，越来越响，甚至还在变得更响，直到龟裂的荒漠表土破裂开来，从裂缝中涌出恶臭的烟气，传来钢铁的摩擦音。终于，硫磺铁路列车出现了。

“Tell your boss Talon’s here, and I want to talk. The Harbingers are gathering.”

The ticket taker blanched and scurried off, leaving him alone in the stagnant air of the train as it idled on the track, an impatient machine. The train’s conductor was a particular man, with lavish tastes and an uncompromising will—every window was filigreed in sterling silver, every curtain draped in precious velvet. The Sulfur Rail was an expensive ticket in all regards.

它是灰烬与烈火的野兽，烟尘与煤炭的怪物，是钢铁机器的巨人，任何人类和鬼怪都相形见绌，唯一能比这班列车更张狂的只有上面的车长。只要看它一眼，就足以令任何凡人失去理智。它巨大的外壳在午日投下阴影，遮蔽了太阳的一角。铁轨在车轮下不断接合延申，列车渐行渐缓，最后颤抖着、喘息着，停了下来。

Out of the corner of his eye, Talon caught sight of someone watching him from the doorway of the next car. He could feel his jaw tighten under his teeth.

“What’re you lookin’ at?” he growled, but the cowboy’s soul didn’t move. Anger simmered in his heart, impotent and helpless, a reminder that he never had one to begin with and was worse off for the addition of it. He stalked over to the soul, staring him down as he had done when the fella was alive, but now he didn’t waver at the fire burning in Talon’s eyes. Indifferent. “Do you want me to apologize?”

车门吱嘎一声打开，一股蒸汽扑面而来。陌生人踏上列车，引着牛仔的灵魂来到负责检票的魔鬼面前。魔鬼看了一眼，点了点头。这足够缴清车票了。

The soul just kept on staring.

“Do you want me to say something?”

看着牛仔的灵魂有气无力地向前走去，他的肋间感到一种异样的疼痛。那个灵魂走向后一节车厢，混入其他旅客中：铁路大亨和乞丐、绅士和快枪手、牛仔和天使，全都乘上了这一列驶向地狱的火车。陌生人面容苦涩，回头面向检票员，车厢的门在他身后关闭。

The soul just kept on staring.

“I’m sorry! There. You happy?”

“告诉你老板，泰隆来了，我有事找他。使者们正在集结。”

The soul just kept on staring.

Talon spat, reaching to grip the shadow of the cowboy’s neck—

检票员面色土灰，匆忙跑开，只留他自己在沉闷的空气中，不耐烦的列车此刻正静止在铁轨上。这位列车长是个挑剔的人，品味奢华浮夸，不达目的决不罢休。列车上的每一扇窗户都有纯银细工装饰，每一副窗帘都有昂贵的天鹅绒褶边。硫磺铁路是一趟如假包换的豪华班列。

Then the soul lifted a hand to Talon’s cheek and wiped away a tear from the space beneath his eye.

He’d never wanted to weep before—a pitiful act, the sanctimonious mourning of angels and men for lost lives that had never been theirs to begin with—but all the rain that never touched the desert fell inside his chest, a storm unstoppable, threatening to water the West in tears and drown him where he stood.

泰隆的余光扫到了异样，有人正站在后一节车厢的门口看着他。他不自主地咬紧了牙。

Talon tore himself away, cast his gaze out the window at what he had left behind: the lonely road to Progress, an empty canteen, the blank stare of a body that once was a man, and a herd of dead-eyed cattle stepping over the corpse of their shepherd as they grazed the barren ground, searching for something green among a mess of dead white feathers smudged with blood and brimstone.

Maybe they all deserved what was coming.

“你看什么？”他没好气地说。但牛仔的灵魂一动不动。他心中燃起怒火，但无力又无助。这让他想起自己从最一开始就没有心，而塞进一颗心以后却变得更可怜。他悄无声息地走到牛仔的灵魂面前，就像他生前那样与他对视，只不过这一次，牛仔面对泰隆眼中的火焰时已不再退缩。只有漠然。“你想让我道歉吗？”

牛仔的灵魂只是默默地盯着他。

“你想让我说什么？”

牛仔的灵魂只是默默地盯着他。

“对不起！行了吧。满意了吗？”

牛仔的灵魂只是默默地盯着他。

泰隆啐了一口，伸手抓住牛仔的脖颈——

然后牛仔的灵魂抬起一只手，从泰隆的面颊上抹去一滴眼泪。

他此前从来都不想哭泣——这是可怜的行为，是天使和人类的虚伪虔诚，为了与自己无关的生命而感到哀伤。但所有那些雨滴，虽然没有落进他胸中的那片沙漠，却酝酿着一场势不可挡的风暴，随时要泪洗大西部的土地，把他就地淹没窒息。

泰隆挣脱开身体，把目光投向窗外他留下的那片景象：一条孤寂的路通往进化城，一只空荡荡的水壶，一具死不瞑目的尸体，一群目光空洞的牛正跨过它们原本的领路者，在贫瘠的土地上觅食，在一团白羽、血迹和硫磺的斑驳之中寻找青葱。

或许他们都罪有应得。