The Woman in the Dunes - Machi Abe [65]
26
HE ran.
The houses, floating in the vague light of burning lamps, formed a maze of obstacles and passageways along the single path of his flight. He could taste the wind wheezing through his tightened throat like luke-warm rust. A desperate gamble on a sheet of thin glass that was already bent to the breaking point. The basket gangs had certainly left their houses already, but it was still too soon to expect them to have covered the distance to the seashore. In fact, he did not remember hearing the sounds of the three-wheeler. He could not possibly have missed the put-put of the crazy two-cylinder engine from at least a half mile away. The situation was extremely serious.
A black lump suddenly sprang out of the shadows. It was a fairly big dog, judging from its breathing. The dog, however, had evidently received no training in attack and had committed the blunder of barking just before it was about to sink its teeth in him. He lashed out with his rope, and the shears struck something; the dog let out a baleful howl and melted again into the shadows. Fortunately it had only bitten into the cuff of his trousers. His legs slipped out from under him as he recoiled, and he turned a somersault as he fell. At once he was on his feet again and running.
However, there was not just one dog, but, apparently, five or six. Discouraged, perhaps, by the failure of the first, the others awaited their chance as they circled around him, barking. Maybe the squat red dog from the shack was urging them on from behind. Then he jumped over a mound of shells in an empty lot and ran between some narrow brushwood fences, cutting through a garden where straw was spread out to dry. At last he came out on a broad road. Only a little more and he would be out of the village.
Just beside the road there was a small ditch. Two children, who looked as if they were brother and sister, scrambled out. He noticed them too late. He did what he could to bring the rope around to the side, but it struck them and all three tumbled into the ditch. Something like a wooden pipe lay at the bottom, and the dull sound of splintering wood accompanied their fall. The children screamed. Damn! Why did they have to yell so loud? He pushed them away with all his strength and clambered out. And at that very instant the beams of three flashlights lined up, blocking his way.
At the same time the alarm bell started to ring. The children were crying … the dogs were barking … and at every sound of the bell his heart jumped a beat. His pores opened, and a thousand prickly little insects, like grains of rice, came crawling out. One of the flashlights seemed to be of a type that had an adjustable focus, and just when he thought the light was dwindling it suddenly pierced him again like a white-hot needle.
Should he try a frontal attack, kicking them aside as hard as he could? If he could just get across there, he would be outside the village. He might regret the tactic later and then again he might not, but all depended on this instant. Come on! Don’t hesitate! If he didn’t seize the opportunity now, it would be too late. He couldn’t count on a second chance.
Even as he was thinking this, the flashlights, poised in a half circle around him, spread out to the left and the right and slowly approached him. He grasped the rope more firmly and knew he must move, but he only stood there with his toes biting into the soft ground, unable to come to any decision. The places between the flashlights were filled with the dark shadows of men. And that obscure shape by the side of the road, which at first looked like a hole, was certainly the three-wheeler. Even if he were successful in getting through, he would be caught from behind. In back of him he could hear the steps of the children, who had stopped crying, running away. Suddenly a magnificent idea occurred to him: he would get the children and use them as a shield. By taking them hostage he could stop the men from coming nearer. But when he turned to pursue them he could see other lights waiting