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Show -364- His stomach ached as if he had screamed. His mouth xas open. His limbs f e l t weak. He xas axare of the young picket captain grasping his arm. Neither xas marching the line now. They stood transfixed, seeing nothing because of the intervening buildings. The i n i t i a l scream had modulated into a general howl, like a pack of dogs in a gang-fight. At least, the Professor told himself, trying to calm himself, there xrere no shots to be heard. He xanted to ssy this to his youthful companion but was afraid his voice would betray him. Bodies suddenly appeared around the corners of buildings, running xriidly, Like fish that had escaped the net, they sped the scene, not gracefully as fish, but xrith arms and legs flying - anonymous bodies, even more anonymous than when they had marched in a group. Once the Professor saxr a policeman in pursuit of a body, hurl his stick at the body that xas outdistancing him, and he xanted to cheer. Another time, he saxr a member of the Tac Squad, beat a fleeing body over the back and shoulders, then finally f e l l him xrith a blow on the head. His oxm body f e l t the urge to rush in and attack the policeman, but his mind said, no, in a voice groxring ever fainter. He heard a voice that i t took him a second or txro to identify as the yoxing picket captain's mutter: "The d i r t y son-of-a-bitchl" All of those xrho had escaped the police cordon had been men. Now the Professor saxr a young g i r l , her arms full of books, round the comer of the Library Building. Two police- |
