Get a Load of This полностью

     Again a grenade was thrown. This time it was obvious to Holtz that it was aimed at Dedos below. Holtz heard his yell of terror as the grenade exploded, and the whole house trembled with the force of the explosion.

     Holtz fired a furious burst through the thicket and then shouted down to Dedos, but no one answered him. “I think they have Dedos too,” he said to Castra. “It is well that Pablo's army didn't attack in the first place. These men are very good.”

     Castra didn't hear him. He had died very quietly just before the grenade had exploded. Holtz turned his head to look at him, and as he realized that Castra was dead the sound of something falling at his feet made him jerk round.

     A long, black grenade lay close by him. It had been very skilfully thrown through the hole in the shutter and now it lay there within a few feet of him. He had no time to flatten out or make any effort to protect himself. The word 'Nina' came to his lips, but he hadn't time to say the word before the grenade exploded.

     He was conscious of a bright yellow flash and a lot of noise. Then he sat up on his elbow and stared at the Lewis gun that had fallen over on its side again. He had been thrown right across the room and his hand rested on the spongy pulp that had been Castra's face. Shuddering, he jerked his hand away and tried to get to his feet. As he moved, a wave of pain lurched into him, cutting his breath and bringing a scream fluttering in his mouth.

     He held himself very still. Down the front of his tunic he could see a number of blood-stained little holes and he knew that his chest had been riddled with small splinters of shrapnel.

     He lay on his elbow, waiting for the pain to go away. As he lay, he said in a low, sobbing whisper, “Look what they have done to me, Nina.” Then, because he was alone, hurt and rather frightened, he began to call to Nina as if she could hear him.

     The pain that kept lurching in and out of his chest finally brought him to his senses, and he suddenly remembered the patrol outside. They would be coming to the farmhouse in a moment or so, to make sure that they had killed him. He must get the gun into position and settle them once and for all.

     He knew that it would hurt if he moved, but he mustn't mind a little pain, he told himself. Come along, he said to himself, come along. Now, move your arm. Sit up slowly. That's right. Hell! It does hurt, doesn't it? Hell! Hell! Hell! He began to cry, but he got his body upright and turned on to his hands and knees. Blood began to drip from his chest on to the floor. He remained like that for several seconds, his head hanging, almost touching the floor. Then he crawled slowly over to the gun and sat down heavily beside it.

     The pain took hold of him with steel fingers and ripped into him savagely. A feeling of nausea brought him out into a cold sweat, but he took hold of the gun and dragged it into position. The movement made him lean over the gun and vomit. He was aware only of thinking how glad he was that Nina couldn't see him now. How shocked and horrified she would have been. He pulled the gun carefully round so that the sights covered the road, and then he eased his body against the gun. Sooner or later they would come. If they waited until dark, it didn't matter, because Cortez would be too far away. If they came now, he would be able to stop them. Yes, it was going better than he had hoped.

     How are you, Nina? What are you doing now? You really mustn't worry about me, because I am quite all right. You might not think so, if you saw me, but I am really. It is dying alone that frightens people. To be left quite alone. I can understand it, can't you? But I am not alone. I have never been alone since I met you. You are here in my head and my heart and I am not afraid to die. It is you that I grieve for, because you will be left. If you have loved me as I think you have, you should not be alone either. I shall be with you long after I have ceased to walk and talk and laugh with you. Nothing can really part us, not after the things we have done together, and the nights we have spent together.