Уловка 22

Thanksgiving

           Voicescried"HappyNewYear!"andgloatinglaughterrolleddownfromthehillsthroughthedarknesslikeawitch’sglee.Inmoccasinsandcoveralls,Yossarianchargedoutofhistentforrevengewithhis.45,rammingaclipofcartridgesupintothegripandslammingtheboltofthegunbacktoloadit.Hesnappedoffthesafetycatchandwasreadytoshoot.HeheardNatelyrunningafterhimtorestrainhim,callinghisname.Themachinegunopenedfireoncemorefromablackriseabovethemotorpool,andorangetracerbulletsskimmedlikelow-glidingdashesoverthetopsoftheshadowytents,almostclippingthepeaks.Roarsofroughlaughterrangoutagainbetweentheshortbursts.Yossarianfeltresentmentboillikeacidinsidehim;theywereendangeringhislife,thebastards!Withblind,ferociousrageanddetermination,heracedacrossthesquadronpastthemotorpool,runningasfastashecould,andwasalreadypoundingupintothehillsalongthenarrow,windingpathwhenNatelyfinallycaughtup,stillcalling"Yo-Yo!Yo-Yo!"withpleadingconcernandimploringhimtostop.HegraspedYossarian’sshouldersandtriedtoholdhimback.Yossariantwistedfree,turning.Natelyreachedforhimagain,andYossariandrovehisfistsquarelyintoNately’sdelicateyoungfaceashardashecould,cursinghim,thendrewhisarmbacktohithimagain,butNatelyhaddroppedoutofsightwithagroanandlaycurleduponthegroundwithhisheadburiedinbothhandsandbloodstreamingbetweenhisfingers.

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