子浪小说

第36部分（第1页）

nd　selfeffacing　as　ever。　〃Roll　on　two！〃

At　first　it　was　the　same　as　always　…　the　humming　that　was　a　little　louder　than　the　original　cycle…up；　but　not　much；　and　the　mindless　forward　surge　of　Dels　body　as　his　muscles　spasmed。

Then　things　started　going　wrong。

The　humming　lost　its　steadiness　and　began　to　waver。　It　was　joined　by　a　crackling　sound；　like　cellophane　being　crinkled。　I　could　smell　something　horrible　that　I　didnt　identify　as　a　mixture　of　burning　hair　and　organic　sponge　until　I　saw　blue　tendrils　of　smoke　curling　out　from　beneath　the　edges　of　the　cap。　More　smoke　was　streaming　out　of　the　hole　in　the　top　of　the　cap　that　the　wire　came　in　through；　it　looked　like　smoke　ing　out　of　the　hole　in　an　Indians　teepee。

Delacroix　began　to　jitter　and　twist　in…the　chair；　his　mask…covered　face　snapping　from　side　to　side　as　if　in　some　vehement　refusal。　His　legs　began　to　piston　up　and　down　in　short　strokes　that　were　hampered　by　the　clamps　on　his　ankles。　Thunder　banged　overhead；　and　now　the　rain　began　to　pour　down　harder。

I　looked　at　Dean　Stanton；　he　stared　wildly　back。　There　was　a　muffled　pop　from　under　the　cap；　like　a　pine　knot　exploding　in　a　hot　fire；　and　now　I　could　see　smoke　ing　through　the　mask；　as　well；　seeping　out　in　little　curls。

I　lunged　toward　the　mesh　between　us　and　the　switch　room；　but　before　I　could　open　my　mouth；　Brutus　Howell　seized　my　elbow。　His　grip　was　hard　enough　to　make　the　nerves　in　there　tingle。　He　was　as　white　as　tallow　but　not　in　a　panic　…　not　even　close　to　being　in　a　panic。　〃Dont　you　tell　Jack　to　stop；〃　he　said　in　a　low　voice。　〃Whatever　you　do；　dont　tell　him　that。　Its　too　late　to　stop。〃

At　first；　when　Del　began　to　scream；　the　witnesses　didnt　hear　him。　The　rain　on　the　tin　roof　had　swelled　to　a　roar；　and　the　thunder　was　damned　near　continuous。　But　those　of　us　on　the　platform　heard　him；　all　right　…　choked　howls　of　pain　from　beneath　the　smoking　mask；　sounds　an　animal　caught　and　mangled　in　a　hay…baler　might　make。

The　hum　from　the　cap　was　ragged　and　wild　now；　broken　by　bursts　of　what　sounded　like　radio　static。　Delacroix　began　to　slam　back　and　forth　in　the　chair　like　a　kid　doing　a　tantrum。　The　platform　shook；　and　he　hit　the　leather　restraining　belt　almost　hard　enough　to　pop　it。　The　current　was　also　twisting　him　from　side　to　side；　and　I　heard　the　crunching　snap　as　his　right　shoulder　either　broke　or　dislocated。　It　went　with　a　sound　like　someone　hitting　a　wooden　crate　with　a　sledgehammer。　The　crotch　of　his　pants；　no　more　than　a　blur　because　of　the　short　pistoning　strokes　of　his　legs；　darkened。　Then　he　began　to　squeal；　horrible　sounds；　high…pitched　and　ratlike；　that　were　audible　even　over　the　rushing　downpour。

〃What　the　hells　happening　to　him？〃　someone　cried。

〃Are　those　clamps　going　to　hold？〃

〃Christ；　the　smell！　Phew！〃

Then；　one　of　the　two　women：　〃Is　this　normal？〃

Delacroix　snapped　forward；　dropped　back；　snapped　forward；　fell　back。　Percy　was　staring　at　him　with　slack…jawed　horror。　He　had　expected　something；　sure；　but　not　this。

The　mask　burst　into　flame　on　Delacroixs　face。　The　smell　of　cooking　hair　and　sponge　was　now　joined　by　the　smell　of　cooking　flesh。　Brutal　grabbed　the　bucket　the　sponge　had　been　in　…　it　was　empty　now；　of　course　…　and　charged　for　the　extra…deep　janitors　sink　in　the　corner。

〃Shouldnt　I　kill　the　juice；　Paul？〃　Van　Hay　called　through　the　mesh。　He　sounded　pletely　rattled。　〃Shouldnt…〃

〃No！〃　I　shouted　back。　Brutal　had　understood　it　first；　but　I　hadnt　been　far　behind：　we　had　to　finish　it。　Whatever　else　we　might　do　in　all　the　rest　of　our　lives　was　secondary　to　that　one　thing：　we　had　to　finish　with　Delacroix。　〃Roll；　for　Christs　sake！　Roll；　roll；　roll！〃

I　turned　to　Brutal；　hardly　aware　of　the　people　talking　behind　us　now；　some　on　their　feet；　a　couple　screaming。　〃Quit　that！〃　I　yelled　at　Brutal。　〃No　water！　No　water！　Are　you　nuts？〃

Brutal　turned　toward　me；　a　kind　of　dazed　understanding　on　his　face。　Throw　water　on　a　man　who　was　getting　the　juice。　Oh　yes。　That　would　be　very　smart。　He　looked　around；　saw　the　chemical　fire　extinguisher　hanging　on　the　wall；　and　got　that　instead。　Good　boy。

The　mask　had　peeled　away　from　Delacroixs　face　enough　to　reveal　features　that　had　gone　blacker　than　John　Coffeys。　His　eyes；　now　nothing　but　misshapen　globs　of　white；　filmy　jelly；　had　been　blown　out　of　their　sockets　and　lay　on　his　cheeks。　His　eyelashes　were　gone；　and　as　I　looked；　the　lids　themselves　caught　fire　and　began　to　burn。　Smoke　puffed　from　the　open　V　of　his　shirt。　And　still　the　humming　of　the　electricity　went　on　and　on；　filling　my　head；　vibrating　in　there。　I　think　its　the　sound　mad　people　must　hear；　that　or　something　like　it。

Dean　started　forward；　thinking　in　some　dazed　way　that　he　could　beat　the　fire　out　of　Dels　shirt　with　his　hands；　and　I　yanked　him　away　almost　hard　enough　to　pull　him　off　his　feet。　Touching　Delacroix　at　that　point　would　have　been　like　Brer　Rabbit　punching　into　the　Tar…Baby。　An　electrified　Tar…Baby；　in　this　case。

I　still　didnt　turn　around　to　see　what　was　going　on　behind　us；　but　it　sounded　like　pandemonium；　chairs　falling　over；　people　bellowing；　a　woman　crying　〃Stop　it；　stop　it；　oh　cant　you　see　hes　had　enough？〃　at　the　top　of　her　lungs。　Curtis　Anderson　grabbed　my　shoulder　and　asked　what　was　happening；　for　Christs　sake；　what　was　happening；　and　why　didnt　I　order　jack　to　shut　down？

〃Because　I　cant；〃　I　said。　〃Weve　gone　too　far　to　turn　back；　cant　you　see　that？　Itll　be　over　in　a　few　more　seconds；　anyway。〃

But　it　was　at　least　two　minutes　before　it　was　over；　the　longest　two　minutes　of　my　whole　life；　and　through　most　of　it　I　think　Delacroix　was　conscious。　He　screamed　and　jittered　and　rocked　from　side　to　side。　Smoke　poured　from　his　nostrils　and　from　a　mouth　that　had　gone　the　purple…black　of　ripe　plums。　Smoke　drifted　up　from　his　tongue　the　way　smoke　rises　from　a　hot　griddle。　All　the　buttons　on　his　shirt　either　burst　or　melted。　His　undershirt　did　not　quite　catch　fire；　but　it　charred　and　smoke　poured　through　it　and　we　could　smell　his　chest…hair　roasting。　Behind　us；　people　were　heading　for　the　door　like　cattle　in　a　stampede。　They　couldnt　get　out　through　it；　of　course　…　we　were　in　a　damn　prison；　after　all　…　so　they　simply　clustered　around　it　while　Delacroix　fried　（Now　Im　fryin；　Old　Toot　had　said　when　we　were　rehearsing　for　Arlen　Bitterbuck；　Im　a　done　tom　turkey）　and　the　thunder　rolled　and　the　rain　ran　down　out　of　the　sky　in　a　perfect　fury。

At　some　point　I　thought　of　the　doc　and　looked　around　for　him。　He　was　still　there；　but　crumpled　on　the　floor　beside　his　black　bag。　Hed　fainted。

Brutal　came　up　and　stood　beside　me；　holding　the　fire　extinguisher。

〃Not　yet；〃　I　said。

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