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手机浏览器扫描二维码访问

第51部分（第3页）

timer　in　the　other。　The　timer　was　ticking。　Attached　to　its　back　was　a　length　of

electrical　cord　and　attached　to　the　other　end　of　the　cord　was　a　bundle　of

dynamite。　〃Here！〃　he　screamed。　〃Here；　take　it！〃

His　relief　became　absolute　triumph。　He　had　done　more　than　escape　George；　he

had　conquered。　With　these　talismanic　objects　in　his　hands；　George　would　never

touch　him　again。　George　would　flee　in　terror。

He　began　to　turn　so　he　could　confront　George；　and　that　was　when　Georges　hands

settled　around　his　neck；　squeezing；　stopping　his　breath；　damming　up　his

respiration　entirely　after　one　final　dragging　gasp。

〃I　dont　stutter；〃　whispered　George　from　behind　him。

He　dropped　the　wasps　nest　and　wasps　boiled　out　of　it　in　a　furious　brown　and

yellow　wave。　His　lungs　were　on　fire。　His　wavering　sight　fell　on　the　timer　and

the　sense　of　triumph　returned；　along　with　a　cresting　wave　of　righteous　wrath。

Instead　of　connecting　the　timer　to　dynamite；　the　cord　ran　to　the　gold　knob　of　a

stout　black　cane；　like　the　one　his　father　had　carried　after　the　accident　with

the　milk　truck。

He　grasped　it　and　the　cord　parted。　The　cane　felt　heavy　and　right　in　his　hands。

He　swung　it　back　over　his　shoulder。　On　the　way　up　it　glanced　against　the　wire

from　which　the　light　bulb　depended　and　the　light　began　to　swing　back　and　forth；

making　the　rooms　hooded　shadows　rock　monstrously　against　the　floor　and　walls。

On　the　way　down　the　cane　struck　something　much　harder。　George　screamed。　The　grip

on　Jacks　throatloosened。

He　tore　free　of　Georges　grip　and　whirled。　George　was　on　his　knees；　his　head

drooping；　his　hands　laced　together　on　top　of　it。　Blood　welled　through　his

fingers。

〃Please；〃　George　whispered　humbly。　〃Give　me　a　break；　Mr。　Torrance；〃

〃Now　youll　take　your　medicine；〃　Jack　grunted。　〃Now　by　God；　wont　you。　Young

pup。　Young　worthless　cur。　Now　by　God；　right　now。　Every　drop。　Every　single　damn

drop！〃

As　the　light　swayed　above　him　and　the　shadows　danced　and　flapped；　he　began　to

swing　the　cane；　bringing　it　down　again　and　again；　his　arm　rising　and　falling

like　a　machine。　Georges　bloody　protecting　fingers　fell　away　from　his　head　and

Jack　brought　the　cane　down　again　and　again；　and　on　his　neck　and　shoulders　and

back　and　arms。　Except　that　the　cane　was　no　longer　precisely　a　cane；　it　seemed　to

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