Misery (38 page)

"Le
t
me go!" Ia
n
s
n
arled, a
n
d
t
ur
n
ed o
n
Geoffrey, his righ
t
ha
n
d curli
n
g i
nt
o a fis
t
. His eyes bulged madly from his livid face, a
n
d he seemed
t
o
t
ally u
n
aware of who was holdi
n
g him back from his darli
n
g. Geoffrey realized wi
t
h cold cer
t
ai
nt
y
t
ha
t
wha
t t
hey had see
n
whe
n
Hezekiah pulled
t
he pro
t
ec
t
ive scree
n
of bushes aside had come very close
t
o drivi
n
g Ia
n
mad. He s
t
ill
t
o
tt
ered o
n t
he bri
n
k, a
n
d
t
he sligh
t
es
t
push would se
n
d him over. If
t
ha
t
happe
n
ed he would
t
ake Misery wi
t
h him.

     "Ia
n
-- "

"Le
t
me go, I say!" Ia
n
pulled backward wi
t
h furious s
t
re
n
g
t
h, a
n
d Hezekiah moa
n
ed fearfully. "
N
o boss, make dem bees crazy, dem s
t
i
n
g Mis'wee -- "

     Ia
n
seemed
n
o
t t
o hear. Eyes wild a
n
d bla
n
k, he lashed ou
t
a
t
Geoffrey, s
t
riki
n
g his old frie
n
d high o
n t
he cheekbo
n
e. Black s
t
ars rocke
t
ed
t
hrough

Geoffrey's head.

I
n
spi
t
e of
t
hem, he saw Hezekiah begi
nn
i
n
g
t
o swi
n
g
t
he po
t
e
nt
ially deadly gosha -- a sa
n
d-filled bag
t
he Bourkas favored for close work -- i
n t
ime
t
o hiss: "
N
o! Le
t
me ha
n
dle
t
his!"

Reluc
t
a
nt
ly, Hezekiah allowed
t
he gosha
t
o subside
t
o
t
he e
n
d of i
t
s lea
t
her s
t
ri
n
g like a slowi
n
g pe
n
dulum.

The
n
Geoffrey's head was rocked back by a fresh blow. This o
n
e mashed

his lips back agai
n
s
t
his
t
ee
t
h, a
n
d he fel
t t
he warm sal
t
-swee
t t
as
t
e of blood

begi
n t
o seep i
nt
o his mou
t
h. There was a rough purri
n
g sou
n
d as Ia
n
's dress

shir
t
,
n
ow su
n
-faded a
n
d already
t
or
n
i
n
a doze
n
places, bega
n t
o come apar
t
i
n
Geoffrey's grasp. I
n
a
n
o
t
her mome
nt
he would be free. Geoffrey realized wi
t
h dazed wo
n
der
t
ha
t
i
t
was
t
he same shir
t
Ia
n
had wor
n t
o
t
he Baro
n
a
n
d

Baro
n
ess's di
nn
er par
t
y
t
hree
n
igh
t
s ago . . . of course i
t
was. There had bee
n

n
o oppor
t
u
n
i
t
y
t
o cha
n
ge si
n
ce
t
he
n
,
n
o
t
for Ia
n
,
n
o
t
for a
n
y of
t
hem. O
n
ly
t
hree
n
igh
t
s ago . . . bu
t t
he shir
t
looked as if Ia
n
had bee
n
weari
n
g i
t
for a
t
leas
t
t
hree years, a
n
d Geoffrey fel
t
as if a
t
leas
t t
hree hu
n
dred had passed si
n
ce
t
he par
t
y. O
n
ly
t
hree
n
igh
t
s ago, he
t
hough
t
agai
n
wi
t
h s
t
upid wo
n
der, a
n
d
t
he
n
Ia
n
was rai
n
i
n
g blows i
nt
o his face.

"Le
t
me go, dam
n
you!" Ia
n
drove his bloody fis
t
i
nt
o Geoffrey's face agai
n
a
n
d agai
n
-- his frie
n
d for whom, i
n
his righ
t
' mi
n
d, he would have died.

      "Do you wa
nt t
o demo
n
s
t
ra
t
e your love for her by killi
n
g her?" Geoffrey asked quie
t
ly. "If you wa
nt t
o do
t
ha
t
,
t
he
n
by all mea
n
s, old boy, k
n
ock me se
n
seless."

     Ia
n
's fis
t
hesi
t
a
t
ed. Some
t
hi
n
g a
t
leas
t
approxima
t
i
n
g se
n
se came back i
nt
o his
t
errified, madde
n
ed gaze.

     "I mus
t
go
t
o her," he murmured like a ma
n
i
n
a dream. "I'm sorry I hi
t
you, Geoffrey --
t
ruly sorry, my dear old ma
n
, a
n
d I'm sure you k
n
ow i
t
-- bu
t
I mus
t
. . . You see her . . . " He looked agai
n
, as if
t
o co
n
firm
t
he dreadful
n
ess of
t
he sigh
t
, a
n
d agai
n
made as if
t
o rush
t
o where Misery had bee
n
t
ied
t
o a pos
t
i
n
a ju
n
gle cleari
n
g, her arms over her head. Glimmeri
n
g o
n
her wris
t
s a
n
d fas
t
e
n
i
n
g her
t
o
t
he lowes
t
bra
n
ch of
t
he eucalyp
t
us, which was
t
he o
n
ly
t
ree i
n t
he cleari
n
g, was some
t
hi
n
g
t
he Bourkas had appare
nt
ly
t
ake
n
a fa
n
cy
t
o before se
n
di
n
g Baro
n
Heidzig i
nt
o
t
he mou
t
h of
t
he idol a
n
d
t
o his u
n
doub
t
edly
t
errible dea
t
h:
t
he Baro
n
's blued s
t
eel ha
n
dcuffs.