同章对照

2016, Venezia, Italy.

They once called it the city of canals. They said it was the most beautiful city in the world, with tourists coming all the way from China to visit it.

That was before the Wars.

More than a decade after, Venezia had become an open grave, a poisonous marsh whose canals overflowed with toxic plants and dark mud. Some islands had sunk, their supports destroyed by Mechron's drone bombardments. Most houses had fallen into disrepair, invaded by worms and insects, their rooms full of old human bones; meanwhile, the city's outskirts had been taken over by raiders, who used boats to attack coastal communities.

At least, they did until yesterday. Until Ryan’s group arrived.

It wasn’t the teen’s choice though. Len’s dad basically dragged them there from the city of Rubano, when he heard the local raiders had Genomes among their number. That maniac could never resist the lure of easy targets, leaving the rest of them to salvage stuff while he went hunting.

The wiser bandits had fled without looking back; the others had perished, their exsanguinated corpses tossed into the waters. Genomes and normies both. Nobody could defeat Len’s dad. Nobody. Except maybe Augustus or Leo Hargraves, but so far they hadn’t met.

His face covered by a scarf to protect him from the foul air, Ryan chased away these dark thoughts and glanced at the stone house in front of him. Dusty, half-rotten books were piled up in its courtyard, forming a strange staircase to climb above the walls nearby.

“Riri!” Len called him from within. “Come! I’ve found a treasure!”

Curious, the sixteen-year old teenager stepped inside the house while whistling. As expected, it was some kind of library, albeit one unlike anything Ryan had ever seen. Piled up books formed a true labyrinth of walls and twisting turns, to the point they could probably crush him dead if they ever collapsed. Unlike other areas of the city, vegetation hadn’t taken over, and marauders had clearly ignored the building; nobody respected culture nowadays.

He found Len on a boat. Literally. The owners had moved a gondola inside the library before filling it with books. His best friend lay on her back atop a pile, reading something.

“Heya, Shortie.” A tomboyish girl his age, Len was a tiny bit smaller than Ryan and disliked being called out on it; so of course, he teased her mercilessly. “You’re reading Gulliver's Travels?”

“I’m not short, I’m growing!” Len complained, interrupting her lecture to glare at him with her beautiful blue eyes. Ryan often thought he could see the sea she loved so much in them. Her skin was pale, her raven hair reaching her shoulders. Truly a modern Snow White, although she dressed in brown travel clothes rather than noble gowns. “Now come over here before I throw a dictionary at your face.”

Ryan lay next to his best friend, their shoulders touching, and peeked at the cover. While ancient and yellowed by age, the book seemed relatively well-preserved. “Vingt Mille Lieues sous les mers, écrit par Jules Verne.”

“Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, written by Jules Verne, French edition,” Len translated, her eyes all but shining. She already had two copies of that book, but none in the original language. “You can’t imagine how long I’ve been looking for it. The translations are terrible.”

“I thought you couldn’t read French, mais non?” Ryan mocked her, Len pinching his arm in response. “Ouch.”

“You deserve it, Riri,” she replied. “Et j’apprend la français, merci bien beaucoup.”

“Le français,” Ryan corrected her. “And you can remove the bien.”

She sighed. “Just take a book and shut up. I think they have ‘How to win friends and influence people’, which you really need to read.”

“I like reading, but not as much as eating,” Ryan said. Len had filled her supply bag to the brim with books, and nothing else. “Unless you want to make me eat your Communist Manifesto?”

“If you do that, I will eat you, Riri. With a fork.” She waved a hand at the library. “This place wouldn’t have become a toxic dump, had the communist revolution happened.”

“Maybe it would have been a gulag instead,” Ryan replied, delighting at teasing her beliefs.

“People messed it up, but the concept is right,” Len protested, closing her book and putting it on her chest. “Is it wrong to think everyone should be equal?”

“No, just naive.”

“It could still happen,” Len insisted with cheerful optimism. “Everything has been rebooted back to zero. The world has changed.”

“Yes, but not human nature.”

“You’re too cynical for your own good, Riri.” She closed her book and put it in her travel bag, behind the gondola. “When do you think Dad will come back?”

Once he ran out of victims. “I don't know.”

She looked at him in silence, their eyes locking. They rarely had moments of privacy, where they could breathe without her father looking. Ryan looked at eyes, then at her lips…

Do it, do it, do it.

But he chickened out.

Her face unreadable, Len let out a sigh. Ryan wasn’t sure if it was out of relief or disappointment. “Can you help me remove the books from that boat?” she asked. “We could make it a bed.”

“You want to sleep there?” Ryan balked at it. The wood was so damaged, it could crumble anytime.

“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah. I always wanted to have my own ship. Do you know more than eighty percent of the ocean is unmapped?”

“You want to sleep in the gondola or put it to use?”

“We could find one,” she said, daydreaming. “A real ship. Or make one. Sail away like the explorers of old.”

“With or without your dad?” Ryan asked the hard question.

Len didn’t respond, which was an answer in itself. Without a word, she rose back on her feet and started removing the books with Ryan’s help. Once they were done, Len examined the boat’s bottom, her eyebrows narrowing. “Uh,” she said, thoughtful. “Could it be?”

“What?”

“That type of gondola,” Len said, “Do you know what it is?”

“Sorry, I’m not a ship geek like you.”

Instead of answering, Len knocked at a spot at the gondola’s back end. “You heard that?”

“Nothing?”

“Exactly,” Len said triumphantly. “This type of boat often has a hidden compartment. They carried messages, money, or even drugs.”

“You would think marauders already found it,” Ryan pointed out.

“It’s not common knowledge, and you must know where to look to find it. All ship geeks know that!” She could be so smug sometimes. “Also, it’s a library.”

Yeah, Ryan doubted many locals had visited the library, and considering the dust raised when they removed the book, nobody had touched the gondola in years. Pillagers must have examined the checkout and other obvious spots without looking too much into it.

“Remove that wooden plank,” Len pointed at a spot. “It’s old, it shouldn’t be hard.”

“Hey, why me?” Ryan complained.

“It’s called work division,” she replied with a bright smile. “I think, you work!”

“If it’s work, that means I’m getting paid.”

“I will let you sleep in the gondola,” Len winked at him.

The things he did for her...

In the end, as Len said, the wood was so damaged by time and termites, Ryan had no problem removing the planks with his bare hands. And as she thought, the boat did have a compartment… with one hell of a treasure within.

A hexagonal, metal box, with a helix-shaped lock. The two teens could only hold their breath at this finding.

“No way…” Len’s eyes widened in shock. “Is that what I think it is?”

“I believe so.” One of the mythical Wonderboxes, sent by the Alchemist to the first Genomes. The devices which started the Last Easter tragedy and the Genome Wars that followed. Ryan had no problem removing the lock, having spent years breaking into deserted homes to find supplies.

The metal box opened, revealing a well-preserved letter and three syringes full of swirling liquid. One blue, one violet, and one red. Each bore a swirling, multicolored helix symbol.

Elixirs.

Ryan opened the letter, Len peeking at the content over his shoulder. The paper was handwritten.

“Congratulations, Mr. Rossi.

You have been selected to participate in a grand socio-genetic experiment of my design. You do not know me, but I know you, Mr. Rossi. I believe that you are a fine specimen of the Homo Sapiens species, possessing the necessary skills, intelligence, and genes to lead humanity into the next phase of its biological evolution.

I grant you a miracle.

This box contains three Elixirs, selected at random among a selection of over ten million distributed around the globe. You must have heard about them on the news. Yes, these serums grant a host of health benefits, including a unique power based on the color composition:

Green: Life.

Blue: Information.

Violet: Spacetime.

Red: Energy.

Orange: Matter.

Yellow: Abstract.

White: Meta-power.

You are free to do as you wish with these Elixirs; they are ready for immediate use and testing in the field. I would advise not to drink more than one, but the data gathered should be interesting nonetheless.

Now, I must inform you that you are far from the only person to have received this gift. When you open your eyes next morning, the world you lived in will have ended; instead, you will wake up in a world where mankind’s potential is no longer constrained by the petty rules of reality. A world where everything is possible.

I have no idea how this divine experiment will turn out… but I can’t wait to see the results.

Thank you for advancing the cause of science.

Best of luck,

The Alchemist."

“He never opened the box,” Len said with sorrow.

“Maybe he died before he could,” Ryan replied. “He probably hid the box before the bioweapons hit.”

“You think the Blue one can make you a Genius?”

“Maybe,” Ryan replied. Geniuses were a slang for Genomes, usually Blue ones, with the ability to create advanced technology way ahead of their time.

Mechron, the man who came closest to taking over the world, had been the most famous one. His self-replicating robot army had swept Eurasia until some countries pushed their big red button before they could fall next. Nobody remembered who had fired the first shot, but Mechron responded to the A-bombs with drone bombardments and bioweapons. Central Eurasia had become a nuclear wasteland; southern Europe, a mass grave.

At least this city wasn’t irradiated, unlike Turin.

“Which one do you want to take?” Ryan asked his friend.

Len paled. “We can’t drink this,” she hissed. “Dad will know. He can sense it in the blood.”

“Yeah, perhaps, but that may be our only chance to get away from him.”

“I’m not abandoning Dad,” Len replied with a glare. “He’s going to get better, I know that.”

“Fuck no, he isn’t.” If anything, he was steadily getting worse. Now that Dynamis and Augustus had put a bounty on his head, he had to fend off hunters semi-regularly. “Before he was just crazy and violent, but now he’s violent and paranoid. He’s never going to heal, and I think deep down, you know I’m right.”

Len bit her lower lip, as she always did when stressed and sad. “He’s still my dad,” she said, with a hint of resignation in the voice. “He will want them all.”

“He doesn’t have to know,” Ryan argued. “Your father will get us all kill—”

“Len!” a shrilling voice echoed from outside. “Len! Where are you?”

Speaking of the devil. Quickly, without thinking, Ryan grabbed an Elixir in each hand and hid them in his back pockets alongside the letter. Realizing his intent, Len almost seized the last potion, but hesitated for too long.

Ryan had the time to hide the Blue and the Violet Elixirs, when Len’s dad crawled into the room.

Len’s dad was no longer a man. Not since he drank one Elixir too many and underwent a mutation. His flesh, organs, and skin were all gone, leaving only a shapeless mass of blood covering the bones. He had become a faceless, crimson puppet, his body constantly fluctuating; he even moved like a string-less doll, his arms flailing like whips. He left nothing behind, no bloody footprint.

Both teens tensed, unconsciously moving closer to the other.

“Ah, Cesare,” the Psycho said upon ‘seeing’ Ryan. “Good to see you’re taking care of your sister.”

His name wasn’t Cesare, and they weren’t related.

But Ryan knew better than to say that out loud. Len’s dad was sick. Very, very sick. Especially in the head. Sometimes, he was Len’s dad, kind, friendly Freddie, who liked to play board games and watch old movies.

But sometimes, he was just Bloodstream.

And when the Psycho noticed the Wonderbox and the Red Elixir, his body instantly solidified, his fingers turning into sharp claws. His lingering humanity vanished, overcome by an addiction stronger than anything else.

Like a feral beast pouncing on a mouse, Bloodstream rushed at the box, brutally pushing Len out of the way. Her back hit a book wall, some of them falling behind.

“Len!” Ryan screamed, immediately rushing to her side. Bloodstream ignored him, grabbing the Red Elixir and smashing the syringe. He didn’t bother to inject anything, his body absorbing the content with greedy hunger; his blood fluctuated like a raging sea, before stabilizing.

Thankfully, Len was more stunned than harmed. However, her father frantically searched the box for any other Elixir, before glancing at the teens. “Where’s the rest?!” Bloodstream hissed at the two, now outright screaming. “Where’s the rest?!”

“There’s nothing else!” Ryan protested.

“Liar!” Bloodstream’s hand turned into an axe. “A son shouldn’t lie to his father!”

“Dad, stop!” Len screamed.

As if shaken out of his drug-fueled episode, Bloodstream immediately calmed himself. His hands returned to their normal shape, and he shook his head in confusion. The Elixir would help stabilize his mutations, at least for a while.

“Len… I’m sorry. I’m…” Bloodstream put his hands around his skull as if struggling with a brain freeze. “Sorry…”

“It’s… it’s okay Dad,” Len said, looking away with her arms crossed. “It’s okay.”

Bloodstream looked at his daughter with concern, his hands moving towards her; however, he backed down when Len flinched at his approach. The Psycho remained eerily silent, before glancing at Ryan. “Cesare?”

“Yes, Dad?” Ryan asked, loathing every word.

“Len feels sad,” Bloodstream said. “Smile for her.”

Ryan forced himself, although his lips couldn’t reach his eyes. Thankfully, Len’s dad couldn’t distinguish a false smile from a real one. He put his bloody hand on the teen’s hair, less like a son, and more like a pet.

“You’re a good boy, Cesare,” Bloodstream said, no blood meshing with Ryan’s hair. “You’re a good boy.”

Len’s brother Cesare was long dead. Bloodstream just refused to accept it.

Neither teen pointed it out though. The last time Len’s dad had broken out of his delusion, the Psycho had almost strangled Ryan. He would have killed him too, had Len not calmed her father. Bloodstream only really listened to his daughter nowadays.

Sometimes, not even her.

It was always the same pattern: their group would settle down for a while, Len’s dad would have a violent episode, and either he wiped out the locals or they chased him off. The trio would have to move on, because when people realized that they couldn’t kill Bloodstream, they went after Len and Ryan. Rinse and repeat.

Ryan had lost count of how many places they had crashed over the last few years. One city at a time, they had eventually wandered all the way from Campania to Venezia. Bloodstream had them constantly on the move, chasing after isolated Genomes whose Elixir he could drain to satisfy his addiction.

“Pack your things, kids,” Bloodstream said. “This place is driving me crazy. We’re going to Aqualand. You will like it, Len? You always liked water.”

“I… yes, Dad. I do.”

“I hope they have ice creams,” Bloodstream said cheerfully, before leaving the room.

Len looked at Ryan, who didn’t think twice. They hugged tightly, and for a second Ryan wondered if he should let her go at all.

He still had the Elixirs in his pocket.

They had to leave.

2016年，意大利，威尼斯。

人们曾称这里为运河之城，说它是世上最美的城市，连中国的游客都会不远万里前来游览。

那都是战争之前的事了。

十多年过去，威尼斯已成了一座露天坟场，一片剧毒的沼泽，运河里塞满了有毒的植物和黑泥。有些岛屿被梅克隆的无人机轰炸摧毁了支撑结构，已经沉没。大部分房屋年久失修，爬满蠕虫与昆虫，屋里尽是陈年的人骨。城郊则被劫掠者占据，他们乘船出击，袭扰沿海的聚居地。

至少直到昨天，他们还在这么干。直到瑞恩一行人到来。

不过，这可不是少年的选择。蕾恩的爸爸一听说当地的劫掠者里有基因者，就几乎是硬把他们从鲁巴诺拖了过来。那个疯子从来抵挡不了猎杀软柿子的诱惑，丢下他们搜罗物资，自己跑去狩猎。

识相的匪徒早就头也不回地逃了；其余的都死了，被抽干血的尸体扔进了水里。基因者也好，普通人也罢，无一例外。没人能打败蕾恩的爸爸。没有人。也许奥古斯都或利奥·哈格雷夫斯可以，但他们至今还没碰过面。

瑞恩用围巾蒙着脸，抵挡污浊的空气。他赶走这些阴暗的念头，看向面前的石屋。院子里堆着落满灰尘、腐烂过半的书，垒成一道古怪的阶梯，可以顺着爬上旁边的围墙。

“瑞瑞！”蕾恩在里面叫他，“快来！我找到宝藏了！”

十六岁的少年好奇地吹着口哨，走进屋内。不出所料，这里是个图书馆之类的地方，却又与瑞恩见过的任何一处都不同。一摞摞书垒成墙壁，挤出曲折的通道，简直是一座迷宫；书堆真要塌下来，恐怕足以把他活活压死。与城里的其他地方不同，植物并未侵占这里，劫掠者显然也对这栋建筑不屑一顾。如今已经没人尊重文化了。

他在一条船上找到了蕾恩。真的是船。这里的主人把一条贡多拉搬进了图书馆，又往里面塞满了书。他最好的朋友正仰躺在书堆上，读着什么。

“嗨，小矮个。”蕾恩是个和他同岁的假小子，比瑞恩矮上那么一点点，而且最讨厌别人提这件事。所以，他当然要毫不留情地拿来逗她。“在看《格列佛游记》？”

“我才不矮，我还在长个呢！”蕾恩抗议道，停下阅读，用那双漂亮的蓝眼睛瞪着他。瑞恩常常觉得，自己能从她眼中看见她深爱的大海。她皮肤白皙，乌黑的头发垂到肩头，活脱脱一个现代白雪公主，只是穿着棕色的旅行衣，而不是贵族的华服。“快点过来，不然我就把词典砸你脸上。”

瑞恩挨着最好的朋友躺下，两人的肩膀贴在一起。他瞄了一眼封面。这本书虽然古旧，纸页也已泛黄，但保存得还算完好。“Vingt Mille Lieues sous les mers, écrit par Jules Verne。”

“《海底两万里》，儒勒·凡尔纳著，法语版。”蕾恩翻译道，眼睛几乎在发光。她已经有两本这部小说了，却没有一本是原文版。“你根本想不到我找它找了多久。那些译本都糟透了。”

“我还以为你看不懂法文呢，mais non——难道不是吗？”瑞恩揶揄道，蕾恩回敬了他一把，掐在胳膊上。“哎哟。”

“活该，瑞瑞。”她答道。“Et j’apprend la français, merci bien beaucoup——而且我在学法语，真是非常谢谢你。”

“是le français。”瑞恩纠正她，“还有，bien可以去掉。”

她叹了口气。“你就拿本书，闭上嘴吧。这里应该有本《如何赢得朋友并影响他人》，你真的很有必要读一读。”

“我喜欢看书，不过比起吃饭还是差点。”瑞恩说。蕾恩的物资袋已经塞得满满当当，里面除了书还是书。“还是说，你想让我把你的《共产党宣言》吃了？”

“你敢吃，我就把你吃了，瑞瑞。用叉子。”她朝图书馆挥了挥手。“要是共产主义革命成功了，这里就不会变成有毒的垃圾场。”

“也许会变成古拉格。”瑞恩回答，拿她的信仰逗趣让他乐在其中。

“是人把事情搞砸了，理念本身没错。”蕾恩反驳道，合上书，放在胸口。“觉得人人都该平等，有什么错吗？”

“没什么错，就是天真。”

“还是有可能实现的。”蕾恩乐观地坚持道，“一切都推倒重来了，重新从零开始。世界已经变了。”

“是啊，可人性没变。”

“你这么愤世嫉俗，对自己可没好处，瑞瑞。”她合上书，放进贡多拉后面的旅行袋。“你觉得爸爸什么时候会回来？”

等他找不到下一个受害者的时候。“我不知道。”

她默默望着他，两人的目光交缠在一起。他们很少能这样独处，很少能在她父亲的视线之外喘口气。瑞恩看着她的眼睛，又看向她的嘴唇……

上啊，上啊，上啊。

可他到底还是退缩了。

蕾恩叹了口气，脸上的神情让人看不透。瑞恩也说不准，那是如释重负，还是失望。“能帮我把船里的书搬出来吗？”她问，“我们可以把它当床。”

“你想睡这儿？”瑞恩有些发怵。木头朽得厉害，随时都可能散架。

“对啊。”她说，“对。我一直想有一条自己的船。你知道吗，超过百分之八十的海洋都还没被测绘过。”

“你是想睡在贡多拉里，还是想真拿它当船用？”

“我们可以找一条。”她出神地畅想道，“一条真正的船。或者自己造一条。像过去的探险家那样，扬帆远航。”

“带不带你爸？”瑞恩问出了那个棘手的问题。

蕾恩没有回答，而这本身就是答案。她一言不发地起身站好，在瑞恩的帮助下开始往外搬书。搬完后，蕾恩检查着船底，眉头皱了起来。“咦，”她若有所思地说，“难道是……”

“什么？”

“这种贡多拉，”蕾恩说，“你知道是什么船吗？”

“抱歉，我可不像你那么迷船。”

蕾恩没回答，而是在贡多拉尾部的某个位置敲了敲。“听见了吗？”

“什么也没听见？”

“没错。”蕾恩得意地说，“这种船常常有暗格。他们用它运送信件、钱，甚至毒品。”

“按理说，劫掠者早该找到了吧。”瑞恩指出。

“这可不是常识，而且得知道该找哪里才能发现。船迷都知道！”她有时候真能得意上天。“再说，这是图书馆。”

也是，瑞恩不觉得会有多少当地人来过图书馆；而且，看看他们搬书时扬起的灰尘，这条贡多拉已经好多年没人碰过了。抢掠的人想必只翻了翻收银台和其他显眼的位置，没怎么仔细搜查。

“把那块木板拆下来。”蕾恩指了指一个位置，“都这么旧了，应该不难。”

“喂，为什么是我？”瑞恩抱怨道。

“这叫分工。”她笑容灿烂地答道，“我动脑，你干活！”

“既然是干活，那我就得拿报酬。”

“我会让你睡在贡多拉里的。”蕾恩冲他眨了眨眼。

他为了她，还真是什么都肯干……

结果正如蕾恩所说，木头早被岁月和白蚁糟蹋得不成样子，瑞恩徒手就轻轻松松拆下了木板。也正如她所料，船里确实有个暗格……里面的宝藏可真不得了。

那是一个六边形的金属盒子，配着一把螺旋形的锁。看到这东西，两个少年都不由得屏住了呼吸。

“不会吧……”蕾恩震惊地睁大了眼睛，“是我想的那个东西吗？”

“我想是的。”那是传说中的奇迹盒之一，由炼金术师送给第一批基因者。正是这些装置引发了最后的复活节惨剧，以及随后的基因战争。多年来，瑞恩为了寻找物资，不知闯进过多少废弃的民居，弄开这把锁对他而言毫无难度。

金属盒打开了，里面是一封保存完好的信和三支注射器，管内装满了打着旋的液体。一支蓝色，一支紫色，一支红色。每一支上面都有一个多彩的螺旋标志。

灵药。

瑞恩展开信，蕾恩从他肩后探头看信里的内容。那是一封手写信。

“恭喜你，罗西先生。

你已被选中，参与一项由我设计的大型社会遗传学实验。你不认识我，但我认识你，罗西先生。我相信你是智人物种中的优秀样本，具备必要的技能、智慧与基因，足以引领人类进入生物进化的下一阶段。

我将赐予你一个奇迹。

这个盒子里装有三支灵药，是从分发到全球各地的一千多万支中随机抽选的。你一定在新闻里听说过它们。没错，这些血清对健康益处良多，还能赋予一种由其颜色成分决定的独特能力：

绿色：生命。

蓝色：信息。

紫色：时空。

红色：能量。

橙色：物质。

黄色：抽象。

白色：元能力。

你可以随意处置这些灵药；它们已可直接使用，并投入实地测试。我建议不要饮用超过一支，不过，无论如何，收集到的数据想必都会很有意思。

现在，我必须告诉你，收到这份礼物的人远不止你一个。等你明早睁开双眼，你曾经生活的世界就已经终结了。取而代之，你将在一个人类潜能不再受现实那些微不足道的规则所束缚的世界醒来。一个凡事皆有可能的世界。

我不知道这场神圣的实验最终会如何收场……但我已经迫不及待地想看到结果了。

感谢你推动科学事业的进步。

祝你好运，

炼金术师。”

“他从没打开过这个盒子。”蕾恩伤感地说。

“也许还没来得及就死了。”瑞恩答道，“他大概是在生物武器袭来之前把盒子藏起来的。”

“你觉得蓝色那支能让人成为天才吗？”

“也许吧。”瑞恩回答。“天才”是某类基因者的俗称，通常属于蓝系，能够创造出远超所处时代的先进科技。

梅克隆，那个曾最接近统治全世界的人，就是其中最有名的一个。他那支能够自我复制的机器人大军曾横扫欧亚大陆，直到一些国家不愿成为下一个沦陷者，按下了那颗大红按钮。已经没人记得是谁打响了第一枪，但梅克隆用无人机轰炸和生物武器回应了原子弹。欧亚大陆中部沦为核废土；南欧，则成了万人坑。

至少，这座城市不像都灵，没有受到辐射污染。

“你想喝哪支？”瑞恩问朋友。

蕾恩的脸色白了。“我们不能喝。”她压低声音急道，“爸爸会知道的。他能从血里感觉到。”

“嗯，也许吧，但这可能是我们摆脱他的唯一机会。”

“我不会抛下爸爸。”蕾恩瞪着他答道，“他会好起来的，我知道他会。”

“好个屁，他不会的。”真要说起来，他的状况只是在不断恶化。如今迪纳米斯和奥古斯都都悬赏要他的人头，他时不时就得打退一拨赏金猎人。“以前他只是又疯又残暴。现在他不光残暴，还整天疑神疑鬼。他永远都不会好，我觉得你心底也知道我说得对。”

蕾恩咬住下唇，每当又紧张又难过时，她总会这样。“可他还是我爸爸。”她说，声音里透着一丝认命，“他会想把这些全拿走的。”

“我们没必要让他知道。”瑞恩争辩道，“你爸迟早会把我们全害——”

“蕾恩！”外面传来一声尖厉的呼喊，“蕾恩！你在哪儿？”

真是说到魔鬼，魔鬼就来了。瑞恩不假思索，两手各抓起一支灵药，连同那封信迅速藏进裤子后兜。蕾恩明白了他的意图，差一点就抓起了最后一支药剂，可她犹豫得太久了。

瑞恩刚来得及藏好蓝色和紫色灵药，蕾恩的爸爸就爬进了房间。

蕾恩的爸爸已经不再是人了。自从他多喝了那一支灵药、发生变异之后，就不是了。他的皮肉和内脏全都消失，只剩一团没有定形的血液包裹着骨骼。他变成了一具没有面孔的血红傀儡，身体无时无刻不在起伏变形；就连动作也像个断了提线的玩偶，两条胳膊如鞭子般甩动。他经过的地方什么也不会留下，连一个血脚印都没有。

两个少年都绷紧了身体，不自觉地向彼此靠近。

“啊，切萨雷。”疯魔在“看见”瑞恩后说道，“看到你在照顾妹妹，真好。”

他不叫切萨雷，他们也没有血缘关系。

但瑞恩还不至于蠢到把这些话说出口。蕾恩的爸爸病了。病得很重，很重。尤其是脑子。有时候，他是蕾恩的爸爸，是和善友好的弗雷迪，喜欢玩桌游、看老电影。

但有时候，他就只是血流。

疯魔一注意到奇迹盒和红色灵药，身体便瞬间凝实，手指化作尖利的爪子。他残存的人性消失了，被压倒一切的瘾癖彻底吞没。

血流像扑向老鼠的野兽一般冲向盒子，粗暴地推开了挡路的蕾恩。她的后背撞上一堵书墙，身后掉下了几本书。

“蕾恩！”瑞恩惊叫一声，立刻冲到她身旁。血流根本不理他，一把抓起红色灵药，捏碎了注射器。他连注射都省了，身体饥渴地吸收了里面的液体；周身血液如狂暴的海浪般翻涌，随后才稳定下来。

好在蕾恩主要是被撞懵了，没受什么伤。然而，她父亲还在疯狂翻找盒子，寻找其他灵药，随后转头看向两个少年。“剩下的呢？！”血流冲着两人嘶吼，已经全然是在尖叫，“剩下的呢？！”

“没有别的了！”瑞恩抗议道。

“撒谎！”血流的手变成了一把斧头，“儿子不该对爸爸撒谎！”

“爸爸，住手！”蕾恩尖叫道。

仿佛猛然从药物诱发的狂躁中惊醒，血流立刻平静了下来。双手恢复了原状，他困惑地摇了摇头。灵药会让他的变异状态稳定下来，至少能维持一阵。

“蕾恩……对不起。我……”血流双手捂住头骨，仿佛脑袋被冻得生疼，“对不起……”

“没……没事的，爸爸。”蕾恩抱着双臂，把脸转向一旁，“没事的。”

血流担忧地看着女儿，双手向她伸去；可蕾恩一见他靠近就瑟缩了一下，他只得退了回去。疯魔沉默得令人发毛，片刻后才看向瑞恩。“切萨雷？”

“怎么了，爸爸？”瑞恩问，每一个字都让他厌恶。

“蕾恩很难过。”血流说，“笑一个给她看看。”

瑞恩逼着自己笑了，笑意却到不了眼底。好在蕾恩的爸爸分不清假笑和真笑。他把血淋淋的手放在少年头上，那动作与其说是在摸儿子，倒更像是在摸宠物。

“你是个好孩子，切萨雷。”血流说，瑞恩的头发上没有沾到一丝血。“你是个好孩子。”

蕾恩的哥哥切萨雷早就死了。血流只是不肯接受。

但两个少年谁也没说破。上一次蕾恩的爸爸从妄想中清醒过来时，这个疯魔险些掐死瑞恩。要不是蕾恩安抚了父亲，他真的会杀了他。如今，血流真正听得进去的，只有女儿的话。

有时候，连她的话也不听。

事情总是按同一个模式发展：他们安顿下来住上一阵，蕾恩的爸爸就会暴起发作，之后要么是他杀光当地人，要么是当地人把他赶走。三人不得不继续迁徙，因为人们一旦意识到杀不死血流，就会转而对蕾恩和瑞恩下手。如此，周而复始。

过去几年里，他们到底在哪些地方落过脚，瑞恩已经数不清了。他们辗转一座又一座城市，最终从坎帕尼亚一路流浪到了威尼斯。血流让他们片刻不得安生，不断追逐那些落单的基因者，好抽走他们体内的灵药，满足自己的瘾癖。

“收拾东西，孩子们。”血流说，“这地方快把我逼疯了。我们去阿夸兰。你会喜欢的吧，蕾恩？你一直都喜欢水。”

“我……是的，爸爸。我喜欢。”

“希望那儿有冰淇淋。”血流欢快地说着，离开了房间。

蕾恩看向瑞恩，瑞恩想都没想。两人紧紧抱在一起，有那么一瞬间，瑞恩不知道自己究竟还该不该松开她。

灵药还在他的口袋里。

他们必须离开。