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Delacroix
began
to
jitter
and
twist
in
the
chair
,
his
mask-covered
face
snapping
from
side
to
side
as
if
in
some
vehement
refusal
.
His
legs
began
to
piston
up
and
down
in
short
strokes
that
were
hampered
by
the
clamps
on
his
ankles
.
Thunder
banged
overhead
,
and
now
the
rain
began
to
pour
down
harder
.
I
looked
at
Dean
Stanton
;
he
stared
wildly
back
.
There
was
a
muffled
pop
from
under
the
cap
,
like
a
pine
knot
exploding
in
a
hot
fire
,
and
now
I
could
see
smoke
coming
through
the
mask
,
as
well
,
seeping
out
in
little
curls
.
I
lunged
toward
the
mesh
between
us
and
the
switch
room
,
but
before
I
could
open
my
mouth
,
Brutus
Howell
seized
my
elbow
.
His
grip
was
hard
enough
to
make
the
nerves
in
there
tingle
.
He
was
as
white
as
tallow
but
not
in
a
panic
--
not
even
close
to
being
in
a
panic
.
"
Do
n't
you
tell
Jack
to
stop
,
"
he
said
in
a
low
voice
.
"
Whatever
you
do
,
do
n't
tell
him
that
.
It
's
too
late
to
stop
.
"
At
first
,
when
Del
began
to
scream
,
the
witnesses
did
n't
hear
him
.
The
rain
on
the
tin
roof
had
swelled
to
a
roar
,
and
the
thunder
was
damned
near
continuous
.
But
those
of
us
on
the
platform
heard
him
,
all
right
--
choked
howls
of
pain
from
beneath
the
smoking
mask
,
sounds
an
animal
caught
and
mangled
in
a
hay-baler
might
make
.
The
hum
from
the
cap
was
ragged
and
wild
now
,
broken
by
bursts
of
what
sounded
like
radio
static
.
Delacroix
began
to
slam
back
and
forth
in
the
chair
like
a
kid
doing
a
tantrum
.
The
platform
shook
,
and
he
hit
the
leather
restraining
belt
almost
hard
enough
to
pop
it
.
The
current
was
also
twisting
him
from
side
to
side
,
and
I
heard
the
crunching
snap
as
his
right
shoulder
either
broke
or
dislocated
.
It
went
with
a
sound
like
someone
hitting
a
wooden
crate
with
a
sledgehammer
.
The
crotch
of
his
pants
,
no
more
than
a
blur
because
of
the
short
pistoning
strokes
of
his
legs
,
darkened
.
Then
he
began
to
squeal
,
horrible
sounds
,
high-pitched
and
ratlike
,
that
were
audible
even
over
the
rushing
downpour
.
"
What
the
hell
's
happening
to
him
?
"
someone
cried
.
"
Are
those
clamps
going
to
hold
?
"
"
Christ
,
the
smell
!
Phew
!
"
Then
,
one
of
the
two
women
:
"
Is
this
normal
?
"
