The Naked and the Dead - Norman Mailer [97]
Then Red tripped, and lay motionless on the ground, half stunned. He was trying to ready himself for the flash of pain the knife would cause as it pierced his back, and he held his breath. He heard his heart beat once, and then once more. His alertness was returning, and he poised his body. His heart beat again, and again, and again. Abruptly, he realized that nothing was going to happen.
Croft's clear cold voice grated in his ear. "Goddam, Red, how long you gonna lay on the ground?"
Red rolled over and sat up. He repressed a groan with difficulty, but the effort made him shudder. "Jesus," he said.
"What do you think of your boy friend?" Croft asked softly.
The Jap was standing several yards away with his hands in the air. He had dropped the bayonet, and it lay at his feet. Croft walked over and kicked it away.
Red looked at the Japanese soldier, and for an instant their eyes met. Both men looked away, as if they had each been caught in something shameful. Red realized suddenly how weak he felt.
Yet even now he could not admit any weakness to Croft. "What took you guys so goddam long?" he asked.
"Got down as fast as we could," Croft said.
Gallagher spoke up abruptly. His face was white and his mouth trembled. "I was gonna shoot the mother-fugger but you were in the way."
Croft laughed quietly, and then said, "Ah guess we frightened him more than you, Red. He damn sure stopped running after you when he saw us."
Red found himself shuddering again. He felt a grudged admiration for Croft, and with it a great deal of resentment at being in his debt. For a second or two he tried to find some way to thank him, but he could not utter the words.
"I guess we might as well head back," Red said. Croft's expression seemed to change. A glint of excitement formed in his eyes. "Why don't you head on back, Red?" he suggested. "Gallagher and me'll follow you in a couple of minutes."
Red forced himself to say, "Want me to take the Jap?" There was nothing he wanted less. He found himself still unable to look at the soldier.
"No," Croft said. "Gallagher and me'll take care of him."
Red realized there was something odd about Croft at this moment. "I can take him okay," he said.
"No, we'll take care of him."
Red looked once at the bodies lying limp in the green draw. Already a few insects were buzzing over the corpse who had lost his face. Everything that had happened to him seemed unreal again. He looked at the soldier from whom he had fled, and already his face seemed anonymous and small. A part of him wondered why he had not been able to meet his eyes. Jesus, I feel pooped, he thought. His legs quivered a little as he picked up his tommy gun. He felt too tired to say anything more. "Okay, see you up on the hill," he muttered.
For some obscure reason, he knew he should not leave, and as he walked away down the trail he felt again the curious shame and guilt the Japanese soldier had caused him. That Croft's a bastard, he told himself. Red felt leaden, in fever.
When he had gone, Croft sat down on the ground and lit a cigarette. He smoked intently without saying anything. Gallagher sat beside him, looking at the prisoner. "Let's get rid of him and get back," he blurted suddenly.
"Hold your water," Croft told him softly.
"What's the use of torturin' the poor bastard?" Gallagher asked.
"He ain't complainin'," Croft said.
But then, as if he had understood them, the prisoner crumpled suddenly to his knees and began to sob in a high-pitched voice. Every few seconds he would turn to them, and extend his hands with pleading motions, and then he would beat his arms on the ground as if he despaired of making