Спрут: Каліфорнійська історія
Chapter IX
Thehorrorofdeath,theFearofTheTrap,shookhimlikeadryreed.Shouting,hetorehimselffreeofthewheatandoncemorescrambledandstruggledtowardsthehatchway.Hestumbledashereacheditandfelldirectlybeneaththepour.Likeastormofsmallshot,mercilessly,pitilessly,theunnumberedmultitudeofhurtlinggrainsflagellatedandbeatandtorehisflesh.Bloodstreamedfromhisforeheadand,thickeningwiththepowder-likechaff-dust,blindedhiseyes.Hestruggledtohisfeetoncemore.Anavalanchefromtheconeofwheatburiedhimtohisthighs.Hewasforcedbackandbackandback,beatingtheair,falling,rising,howlingforaid.Hecouldnolongersee;hiseyes,crammedwithdust,smartedasiftransfixedwithneedleswheneverheopenedthem.Hismouthwasfullofthedust,hislipsweredrywithit;thirsttorturedhim,whilehisoutcrieschokedandgaggedinhisraspedthroat.
Andallthewhilewithoutstop,incessantly,inexorably,thewheat,asifmovingwithaforceallitsown,shotdownwardinaprolongedroar,persistent,steady,inevitable.
Heretreatedtoafarcorneroftheholdandsatdownwithhisbackagainsttheironhulloftheshipandtriedtocollecthisthoughts,tocalmhimself.Surelytheremustbesomewayofescape;surelyhewasnottodielikethis,dieinthisdreadfulsubstancethatwasneithersolidnorfluid.Whatwashetodo?Howmakehimselfheard?
Butevenashethoughtaboutthis,theconeunderthechutebrokeagainandsentagreatlayerofgrainripplingandtumblingtowardhim.Itreachedhimwherehesatandburiedhishandandonefoot.
