| 9:33a |
@@@@@He was incapable of moving for that
@@@@@He was incapable of moving for that instant
"Yank!" It was calling to himWe you coming-to-get, Yank
The night lay like a heavy stifling mat over the riverCroft tried to breathe
"We you coming-to-get, Yank
Croft felt as if a hand had suddenly clapped against his back, traveled up his spine over his skull to clutch at the hair on his forehead"Coming to get you, Yank," he heard himself whisperHe had the agonizing frustration of a man in a nightmare who wants to scream and cannot utter a sound"We you coming-to-get, Yank
He shivered terribly for a moment, and his hands seemed congealed on the machine gunHe could not bear the intense pressure in his head
"We you coming-to-get, Yank," the voice screamed
"COME AND GET ME YOU SONSOFBITCHES," Croft roaredHe shouted with every fiber of his body as though he plunged at an oaken door
There was no sound at all for perhaps ten seconds, nothing but the moonlight on the river and the taut rapt buzzing of the cricketsThen the voice spoke again"Oh, we come, Yank, we come
Croft pulled back the bolt on his machine gun, and rammed it homeHis heart was still beating with frenzy "ReconRECON, UP ON THE LINE," he shouted with all his strength
A machine gun lashed at him from across the river, and he ducked in his holeIn the darkness, it spat a vindictive white light like an acetylene torch, and its sound was terrifyingCroft was holding himself together by the force of his willHe pressed the trigger of his gun and it leaped and bucked under his han |