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across the expanse of the tiny room at the man who claimed he wasn't Klinger. |
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The hand was stymied. She knew it was impossible, but it was almost as if it was confused by the temporary obstacle she had thrown into its path. |
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Cappy's eyes darted about the room, probing the shadows for a weapon, something, anything she could use to defend herself. ''Hey! Can you hear me?" |
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The dulled eyes of the fat Airman fluttered open, momentarily establishing contact with her and reality. Somehow he managed to convey that he could indeed hear her. |
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"You've got to get out of there," she panted. "If you can get through the kitchen door, I can shut it and bolt it." |
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His first effort was nearly imperceptible. With the blood still gushing from his shattered hand, he initiated the laborious effort. He slumped over on his side, like a snake, inching his way along the floor. He was no more than four feet from the door that would give him sanctuary from the hideous thing. |
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The hand continued to grope after him, gaining ground, seemingly sensing its way along the trail of blood left behind by the wounded man. |
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Harvey Klinger, or whatever his name was, never made it. The severed hand caught up with him just inches short of his goal. Slowly, |
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