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Show Acting Alone Page 369 he exerted himself along the rough, slimy, dripping granite. Down still further he went. At the end of a particularly black passageway Sam heard shouts. He followed them, stooping low into intermeshing systems of stalactites and stalagmites that dripped and chomped down like vaginal teeth. The first thing he saw through the gloom was a dancing strip of yellow ribbon. Spikey was struggling in a white puddle with someone even tinier than he and screaming, "Sisters! Here's your blast-phemous prevert!" The little Intruder was hunched double in Spikey's accommodating arms, his shoulders rounded, his eyes lit up a yieldsign-yellow, staring out into mid-spaces, his entire compact organism trembling as in an ecstasy of fear. That certain Look was being elicited from the little Jew, the Look that Sam and his bullyboy pals had elicited back .in prepschool for the sheer sadistic pleasure of seeing it. Sam slowly loomed up behind them. He viewed Spikey's bristled bullet-head from the top, little nose poking out over the front horizon, big ears from the sides, a few meager, flattened-out brainwaves worming sluggishly across the back of the scalp, begging passively, like night-crawlers, to be caught and squished in the fist or sliced in half by the thumbnails. "All right. That's enough Jewkilling," Sam said, in a normal voice. "No more of this. No more Jew- and commie-killing He picked up an Army-surplus trenchdigging shovel-pick from among a stack of other civil defense supplies. This shovel was thickly enameled yellow, and was cold and heavy. While Sam was studying its short handle by candlelight, unfolding the blade, testing its pick-end's edge on the |
