Зеленая миля

Chapter 4

           Ithinkit’sthesoundmadpeoplemusthear,thatorsomethinglikeit.

           Deanstartedforward,thinkinginsomedazedwaythathecouldbeatthefireoutofDel’sshirtwithhishands,andIyankedhimawayalmosthardenoughtopullhimoffhisfeet.TouchingDelacroixatthatpointwouldhavebeenlikeBrerRabbitpunchingintotheTar-Baby.AnelectrifiedTar-Baby,inthiscase.

           Istilldidn’tturnaroundtoseewhatwasgoingonbehindus,butitsoundedlikepandemonium,chairsfallingover,peoplebellowing,awomancrying"Stopit,stopit,ohcan’tyouseehe’shadenough?"atthetopofherlungs.CurtisAndersongrabbedmyshoulderandaskedwhatwashappening,forChrist’ssake,whatwashappening,andwhydidn’tIorderjacktoshutdown?

           "BecauseIcan’t,"Isaid."We’vegonetoofartoturnback,can’tyouseethat?It’llbeoverinafewmoreseconds,anyway."

           Butitwasatleasttwominutesbeforeitwasover,thelongesttwominutesofmywholelife,andthroughmostofitIthinkDelacroixwasconscious.Hescreamedandjitteredandrockedfromsidetoside.Smokepouredfromhisnostrilsandfromamouththathadgonethepurple-blackofripeplums.Smokedriftedupfromhistonguethewaysmokerisesfromahotgriddle.Allthebuttonsonhisshirteitherburstormelted.Hisundershirtdidnotquitecatchfire,butitcharredandsmokepouredthroughitandwecouldsmellhischest-hairroasting.

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