The Naked and the Dead - Norman Mailer [300]
He could not go back now. It was impossible to turn his body around without making some small sound, enough in any case to alert the machine gunner. And it was impossible to pass him; the trail skirted the lip of the machine-gun emplacement. He would have to kill him. Even at the thought Martinez's overpitched senses rebelled. He lay there shuddering, conscious suddenly of how weak, how tired, he felt. There seemed no strength, no capacity for effort left in his limbs. He was reduced to peering through the foliage at the moonlight on the soldier's face.
He had to hurry. At any moment the machine gunner might stand up and go to awaken the next man for his turn at guard, and he would be discovered. He had to kill him right away.
And again there seemed something wrong in his calculations. He felt that if only he could shake his head or flex his limbs this would become clear to him, but now he was caught. Martinez reached back for his trench knife, slipped it softly out of the scabbard. The handle felt uncomfortable in his palm, alien; although he had used it a hundred times for other purposes, opening cans or cutting something, he did not know how to hold it now. The blade kept reflecting a sliver of moonlight, and he held it under his forearm at last, staring with terrified stricken eyes at the soldier in the gun hole. Already he felt as if he knew him well; each of his slow leisurely motions traced a familiar route in Martinez's mind -- as the Jap picked at his nose delicately a grin was wrenched from Martinez's mouth. He was not even aware of it except for the fatigue in his cheek muscles.
I go kill him, he commanded himself, but nothing happened. He remained lying on the ground with the knife concealed beneath his arm, the damp earth of the trail chilling his body slowly. At alternate instants he felt in fever and then cold. The moment had become unreal to him again, and he had the qualified controlled terror that he knew in his nightmares. It was not real, and he shuddered once more, thinking of turning back. Slowly -- it took him over a minute -- he got to his hands and knees, brought one foot under him, and swayed there, no more certain of attacking or retreating than a coin on edge about to fall. He became conscious of the knife in his hand again.
"Never trust a goddam Mex when he's got a knife."
It spilled into his mind, a long-concealed fragment from a conversation he had heard between two Texans, and he felt a choked resentment. Goddam lie, and then it was lost in the realization of what he had to do. He swallowed. He had never felt so numb in all his life. Behind it all was a confused bitterness toward the knife, an almost paralyzing fear, and the moonlight tantalizing him. He searched for a pebble, found one, and before he was quite willing his fingers had flipped it away to the other side of the machine-gun emplacement.
The Jap soldier turned at the sound, put his back to him. Martinez took a step forward silently, halted, and then lashed his free forearm around the soldier's neck. Dumbly, almost leisurely, he placed the point of his knife in the angle between the man's throat and shoulder, and pushed it in with all his force.
The Jap thrashed in his arms like an unwilling animal being picked up by its master, and Martinez felt only a detached irritation. Why was he making so much trouble? The knife would not go in far enough, and he tugged at it until it was loose, and then plunged it down again. The soldier writhed for a moment in his arms, and then collapsed.
With him went all of Martinez's strength. He looked stupidly at him, reached down for the knife, and tried to pull it free, but his fingers were trembling. He felt blood dribbling over his palm, and he started, wiping his hand on his trousers. Had anyone heard them? Martinez's ears were recalling the noise of their struggle as if it had been an explosion he had seen from some distance away whose report he was waiting for now.
Was anyone moving? He could hear nothing, and realized that they had made very little sound.
And then he felt the reaction.