Chapter 9 Chapter 4 Ben Hansko: Escape from the Tiger's Mouth (2)

Everything happened so fast.But for Ben, everything slows down like a freeze frame in a photo sketch.He no longer panics, because panic is useless.He suddenly found something inexplicable deep inside - it dispelled all fear. Henry lifted his clothes.Blood was gurgling from the vertical wound. Henry slashed down again, fast and frantic like a surgeon operating under an air raid. "Run back." The blood flowed all the way to the waistband of his trousers, and Ben was thinking calmly. "Run backwards. That's the only way to escape." Beltz and Victor had already let go.Despite Henry's orders, they drew back, cowering in fright.But if he wanted to run, Henry could still catch him.

Henry connected the two strong lines with a knife.Ben felt the blood trickle down his panties and down his thigh. Henry leaned back slightly, frowning, like an artist admiring his own landscape painting. "H" followed by "E," Ben thought.This thought motivates them to move.He jumped forward and was pushed back by Henry.Ben kicked again, putting all his weight on Henry.He hit the fence.At this moment, he raised his right leg and stepped hard on Henry's stomach.This is not about revenge.Bane just wants to use this to add a little counterforce.When he saw Henry's surprised expression, his heart was filled with a tangible, savage pleasure.

With a click, the railing broke, and Henry almost fell on his back into the ditch by the side of the road. Fortunately, Victor and Beltz caught him immediately.Ben's body fell backwards into the open field.He gave a scream that sounded like he was laughing. Ben fell on his back onto the slope below the sewer pipe.Fortunately, it landed below, otherwise his back would have been broken.He landed in the soft grass with no injuries.He turned somersaults and just sat up, like a child sitting on a big green slide, sliding down the hillside.His clothes were rolled up to his neck, and he kept waving his hands, trying to grab something to stop, but he could only pull up pieces of grass.

He saw the embankment fly away, and Victor and Beltz looked at the bottom of the ditch in surprise.Ben didn't have time to think about the few books he'd borrowed from the library.He felt a sharp pain and stopped. A fallen tree caught Ben and nearly broke his left leg.He climbed up the hill step by step, clenching his teeth and dragging his unruly leg.The tree stopped Ben in the middle of the hillside.The undergrowth is denser.Sewage from the pipe ran over his hands. There was a scream from above.Ben looked up and saw Henry jumping down the hill with a knife in his mouth.He landed on his feet, leaned back, slid a long distance, and then ran down the embankment like a kangaroo.He kept yelling, "I'm going to kill you, fat pig!"

Ben struggled to his feet.He was vaguely aware that the left trouser leg had been torn to shreds, and that the left leg was bleeding a lot...but it held on. Ben huddled slightly so as not to fall.Henry rushed over, grabbed him with one hand, and stabbed him with a knife in the other.Ben ducked to the side, his body off balance.Henry hit Bane's injured leg when he fell.Ben knelt down on the ground.Ben stared dumbfounded, fear replaced by awe.Henry stretched out his arms like a superman, hit the dead tree, and fell to the ground again.The knife flew out of his hand.Henry rolled down the hill and slid on his back into the bushes at the bottom of the ditch.There was a scream.A question sounded.Then there was silence.

Ben sat there, feeling dizzy as he watched a patch of bushes crush Henry as he slid down.The stones that suddenly tumbled fell down.He looked up to see Victor and Beltz climbing down the embankment.They are slow and careful.But if Ben didn't act, they were sure to catch him. Ben groaned.Will this crazy chase end? Watching their actions closely, he climbed over the dead tree and climbed down the embankment.Ben gasped heavily.He felt a pinprick in his side.The trees here are as tall as a man.The free-growing trees exude a strong herbal atmosphere.He heard the babbling of a brook nearby.

He slipped and rolled all the way down.The back of his hand hit the rock sharply, and the thorns tore through his clothes, piercing his hands and cheeks. When he stopped abruptly, he had slid to the edge of the stream, his feet soaked in the water.The creek meandered into the dark secondary forest to his right.To the left he saw Henry lying on his back in the middle of the stream, rolling his eyes.One ear was still bleeding, and it flowed down into a stream. Oh my god I killed him!God I am a murderer!God! Forgetting that Beltz and Victor were still chasing after him, Ben walked through the stream to where Henry was lying, only to see his shirt torn into strips, his jeans soaked black in the water, and lost a shoe.Ben himself was in ragged clothes and was in severe pain. He dragged his injured foot and limped up to Henry.

He leaned forward to look at Henry.Henry stared, stretched out a bloody hand to grab Bane's calf, and kept muttering.Even though it was just a heavy gasp, Ben heard his words clearly: Kill you, you fat pig. Henry grabbed one of Ben's legs and struggled to stand up.Ben tugged back desperately, and Henry's hand slid down and let go.Ben jumped back and sat down in the water, making a splash.A rainbow flashed before Ben's eyes.But Ben didn't notice at all.Now even if there is a pot of gold in front of him, he can't see it. Henry rolled over, tried to get up, and fell down again.It took a long time to stand up unsteadily.He glared at Ben viciously, a lock of hair hanging in front of his forehead, matted.

Suddenly, Ben felt angry.No, it was more than anger, it was extreme anger.Originally, he was walking around with a few books borrowed from the library, daydreaming, not messing with anyone.Check it out now, check it out!The trousers were torn, and the left ankle was swollen or something, maybe broken.The leg was also injured.The tongue was also injured.There's still that goddamn Henry carved into his belly.The initial of Bowers' first name.But perhaps it was the thought of those books he had borrowed from the library that prompted him to attack Henry.powers.Thinking of losing those books, thinking of Mrs. Starrett's reproachful eyes.Whatever the cause—the cut, the swelling, the library book, the paper report card that was so soaked and unreadable in the back pocket of his trousers—it prompted him to fight back.Dripping in the water, he staggered over and kicked Henry in the crotch.

Henry screamed, startling the birds that fell in the bushes.Arched, clutching his crotch, he looked at Ben suspiciously. "Ouch..." he moaned softly. "Yes," Ben said. "Ouch." Henry's voice was weaker. "Yes." Ben repeated. Henry's body slowly slid down, kneeling on the ground, curled up slightly. "Ouch." "Damn it, that's right," Ben said. Henry fell to the ground, rolling over while clutching his crotch. Ben stood for a long time—probably until Henry recovered and had the strength to chase him again—when suddenly a rock hit him in the right ear.There was a piercing pain, and blood flowed down.

He turned his head and saw Beltz and Victor running towards this side holding the water, and each holding a handful of stones in their hands.A stone whizzed past his ear, and he dodged when another stone hit his right knee.He couldn't help but yelled.Another stone hit his right cheek again, and tears flowed down his face. He staggered toward the shore, grabbed hold of overhanging rocks and bushes, and scrambled up.Finally climbed to the shore.Ben glanced back. Beltz knelt beside Henry; Victor stood a few feet away and threw stones.A rock the size of a baseball was falling in a bush near Benn, a man's height.He has seen it long enough.What's even more frightening is that Henry stood up again.Ben turned back into the bushes and trudged westward.If he could make his way to Banron's side near the old Cape, he could pick up a dime and get in a car and go home.When he got home, he locked the door, threw the blood-stained clothes into the trash, and the nightmare should be over.Ben imagined himself just out of the shower, in that red plush bathrobe, sitting on a chair in the living room watching cartoons.Such thoughts encouraged him to keep running forward. Branches scratched his face.The thorns pricked the hands.But Ben didn't notice it at all.He ran and ran, and finally came to a flat field - dark and dirty.There was a dense forest in front of him, and there was a foul smell. "quicksand".An ominous thought flashed through his mind as he saw a pool of still water gleaming far into the depths of the woods.Whether there is quicksand or not, he doesn't want to go near the woods soaked in water.So he turned to the right and ran along the edge of the wood until he came to a real wood. Mainly cedar trees grow here.The trees are dense, growing upwards desperately, fighting for a little space and sunlight.But there aren't many low bushes here, so he can run faster.Ben didn't know which direction he was running, but he guessed that he was still ahead.The Banglun area is surrounded by Derry on three sides and connected to the half-built toll road on the other.He could always get out of the woods. His stomach throbbed.He rolled up his shirt and looked, couldn't help closing his eyes, and took a deep breath.His belly looked like the oddly shaped balls hanging from a Christmas tree.The blood clotted, and when it slid down the river bank, it was rubbed green again.He quickly put down his coat.The unsightly wound made him sick. Suddenly Ben heard a low hum—a faint but real sound. An adult bent on getting out of the woods would not notice, or even hear, the sound.But Bane was a kid, and he had gotten over his fear.He turned hastily to the left, and saw a concrete column three feet high and four feet thick standing in front of him.The vent at the top was fastened by an iron cover bearing the words "Delhi Sewerage Board" stamped on it.The sound of rushing water came from below. Ben looked in through the vent, but saw nothing, only the sound of running water.He sniffed again, and he could not help shrinking back when he smelled a damp and sour smell.It's a sewer. He walked quickly to the west. Five minutes later, he clearly heard the sound of water flowing ahead, as well as voices.The voice of a child. He stopped and listened.Suddenly I heard the snapping of branches and a commotion behind me.He recognized it immediately, it was Victor, Beltz, and the unique Henry.powers. The nightmare is not over yet. Ben looked around for a place to hide. 10 Ben emerged from his hiding place two hours later, disheveled but refreshed.It was incredible that he had fallen asleep. When he heard the three guys chasing after him all the way, he froze there, like a beast seeing an oncoming truck, and his mind went blank.Just want to lie on the ground, curled up in a ball, at their disposal. Still, Ben ran toward the running water and the child.He tried his best to distinguish the voices of the children, to hear what they were saying, to wake his mind, which was too frightened to think.what works.What project are they discussing.One or two voices sounded familiar.There was a sound of splashing water, and another burst of good-natured laughter.The laughter made Ben yearn and made him more aware of his danger. If he gets caught, he doesn't have to implicate the kids.So Ben turned right and went into a bush again.Like many tall and fat men, Bane was remarkably light on his feet. He didn't startle over the grass, but gently brushed aside the grass and moved slowly along the creek. Ben came to another concrete column.The column was almost invisible, hidden in a clump of blackberries.In the distance the embankment gradually disappears into the creek.An old gnarled elm leaned twisted over the water.The roots were bare and looked like a tangle of hair. Ben was so tired that he didn't care much. He got into a shallow hole under the tree root and leaned there comfortably.Henry, Beltz, and Victor followed.Ben thought they would be foolishly chasing after them along the path by the stream.Unexpectedly, they stopped in front of this old elm tree, so close to his hiding place.Any closer and he could touch them as soon as he reached out. "The little brat must be still behind," Beltz said. "Well, let's go back and find it." Henry agreed.So they turned back the way they had come. After a while, Ben heard Henry yelling, "What are you bastards doing here?" Ben heard an answer, but couldn't make out what the children were saying.The children were too far away, and the water—the water of the Kentucky River—jumped and roared far away. But there was fear in the boy's voice.Ben felt sorry for him. Then I heard Victor cursing.But Ben didn't understand what he was talking about: "Damn it, the dam was built by the hairy kid." A child's dam?Little brat?Perhaps Victor scolded those children, and he himself misheard. "Give them a push!" Beltz had a bad idea. A child protested loudly, followed by a cry of pain.Someone cried.That's right. Ben felt sorry for them.They couldn't catch him, so they vented their anger on those children. "Yes, ruin it." It was Henry's voice. The sound of water splashing.Shouts.The wild laughter of Baelz and Victor.The cry of a child in pain and anger. "Shut your stinking mouth, little stammer," Henry said, "Whoever dares to make a fucking mistake today will be a good looker." Ben understood immediately.Yes, Victor was talking about the child's dam. Those kids -- maybe two or three -- have been working on the dam.Henry and the others destroyed the dam.Ben even thinks he knows one of the kids.The only person who stuttered at Derry Elementary was Bill Dunbarn, who was in another fifth-grade class. "You shouldn't!" cried a child, in a low voice full of fear.Ben recognized the voice, though he couldn't remember the face for a moment. "Why do you want to do this?" "I do, boy!" Henry roared.Then he heard the muffled sound of fists hitting his body.There was a cry of pain.Followed by crying. "Shut up," Victor yelled, "Shut up and don't cry. Or I'll cut your ears off." The cry became a series of suppressed choked sobs. "We're leaving," Henry asked ferociously, "but before we leave, I want to know one thing. Did you see a fat man passing by 10 minutes ago? He was injured and covered in blood." One child said he didn't see it. "Are you sure?" Beltz pressed. "You'd better tell the truth." "I, I, I, Ken, Ken, sure," Bill Dunbon answered them. "Let's go then," said Henry, "he's probably going back the same way." "Goodbye, boys," Viktor yelled, "that's a child's trick. You'd better stop doing it." There was a sound of splashing water.Baelz's voice came from afar.Ben didn't catch what he said.He didn't want to hear it either.Here the child is crying again.Another boy was comforting him.Ben was sure there were only two children, the stuttering Bill and the crying one. He was half sitting and half lying there, listening to the conversation of the two children by the river, listening to Henry and his buddies rushing back to Ban Lun, farther and farther away.The sun shines in through the gnarled tree roots, casting countless light spots.It's dirty, but comfortable... safe.The sound of running water is comforting.Even the cry of a child comforted him.He will hide here for a while, just in case those bullies come back again.Then he was on his way home.He dozed off and dreamed vaguely. 11 He dreamed about what happened in January that he dared not tell his mother. It was the first day of school after Christmas.Mrs. Douglas asked who would stay after school to help her count the books that were handed in before Christmas.Ben raised his hand. It was a typical Maine winter—at its best and at its worst: clear skies, bright sun, but 10 degrees, bone-chilling cold, and a northerly wind. Ben ordered the books, Mrs. Douglas wrote down the numbers, and together they took the books to the storage room. At first, the school was full of noise: the sound of slamming doors, the sound of typing, the singing of the choir upstairs out of tune, the sound of playing basketball in the gymnasium, and when the players were running and dribbling, their sneakers The harsh sound of scratching the floor. Gradually all sounds quieted down.By the time they finished counting the last set of books, all they could hear was the sound of radiators, the sound of the doorman mopping the hall floor with colored sawdust, and the wind howling outside. It's already 4 o'clock.It's getting dark.A thin layer of snow was lifted by the wind and swirled in the air.Jackson Avenue was deserted.He looked a little longer, hoping for a car to drive past the intersection of Jackson and Wisham Streets.But no car came.It seemed to him that everyone in Derry except himself and Mrs. Douglas was dead or had fled. It was cloudy and windy outside.The cold wind was so bitter that Bane lost all feeling in his cheeks.There is an indescribably strange beauty about the dark sky.But it was too cold for Ben to stand there admiring the sky.He has to go quickly. At first he turned his back to the wind, which pushed him forward.But at Canal Street he turned to the right and was quite against the wind.The wind was against him, pushing him back... as if it was against him.The scarf is also useful.He kept blinking, and the moisture from his nose froze into thin ice.The legs didn't stop moving.On several occasions, Ben had to run his gloved hands under his armpits to keep warm.The wind howled and hissed, sometimes sounding like a human whine. Ben was both terrified and excited.The fear is because he now understands the story written in the book, just like Jack.It is described in the London novel that in such weather, when the temperature drops to minus 15 degrees at night, people can really freeze to death.Why the excitement is indescribable.It's the feeling of being alone—a melancholy feeling.He walked down the street, passing on the wings of the wind.None of the people hiding in the warm and bright room noticed him.They didn't know he passed by.Only he himself knows.It's a secret. The sun was setting, the western horizon was painted a cold orange, and the sky was dotted with stars.He came to the canal.Walk three more blocks and you'll be home.He longed for the warmth from home and stretched his numb limbs. He still—stopped. The canal is frozen.The ice is undulating, with many cloud-like cracks.The canal is still and alive on this dreary winter day.There is a unique, elusive beauty. Bane walked in another direction—to the southwest—Banron's direction.The wind was blowing from behind, and his snow pants fluttered with the wind.The canal runs about half a mile in a dike.With the disappearance of the dikes, the canal spread out and meandered into the Ban Lun area.In this season, Ban Lun is in a state of depression, with thin ice hanging on the thorn bushes and bare branches. A figure stood on the ice over there. Ben's eyes widened. "There might be someone there, but could it be this attire? Absolutely not." That person was wearing a silver-white clown costume, fluttering in the wind.He was wearing a pair of extra large orange shoes, which matched the huge row of buttons on the chest of his jacket.Holding a handful of brightly colored balloons in his hand.Ben noticed the balloons were waving in the direction he was standing.He felt that this was simply impossible.He rubbed his eyes vigorously, but still saw those balloons floating towards him. It must be a hallucination, or a mirage.It's perfectly possible to stand alone on ice; it's also possible to wear a clown suit.But how could those balloons float against the wind against him?Yet it is indeed true. "Ban!" the clown on the ice called him.Although Ben really heard the voice, he still felt that it was a hallucination in his head. "Want a balloon, Ben?" The voice was full of evil, so terrible that Ben thought about turning around and running away.But his feet seemed to have taken root, and he stood motionless on the sidewalk. "They fly, Ben! They all fly! Try one!" The Joker is walking on the ice towards the canal bridge where Ben is standing.Ben watched it like a bird watches a venomous snake approaching quietly.Ben watched it come, but didn't seem to move.The balloons should have burst in such a cold day; they should not have floated in front of him, but behind him, in the direction of Banron--where it came from. Ben noticed other oddities as well. The last ray of sunlight in the sky cast a rosy light on the ice, but the clown left no shadow on the ice.absolutely not. "You'll love it here, Ben," said the Joker.As it got closer, Ben could hear the slapping of its ridiculously large shoes across the undulating ice. "I promise you'll love it here, all the kids I've met love it because it's a 'happy island'. They don't have to grow up here, and all kids don't! Come on! Get one Balloon, come see the beauty here, feed the elephants, ride the thrilling slide! Oh, you'll love it. Ben, you'll fly—" Although scared, Ben really wanted a balloon in his heart.Whose balloon can fly against the wind?Who ever heard of such a thing?Ah—he wanted a balloon, he wanted to see the clown's face—that face was kept down, looking at the ice, as if hiding from the biting wind. Ben wondered what would have happened if the big clock atop Derry Town Hall hadn't struck five at that moment.He dare not think.The important thing is that the bell rang, and the loud bell pierced the cold of the severe winter.Startled, the clown looked up, and Ben saw its face. Mummy!God, it's a mummy!Ben nearly fainted with fright and clung to the bridge rails.Of course not a mummy, there can be no mummy.Although he knew there were many mummies in Egypt, the first thing he thought of was the mummies on TV—dry monsters. No, not a mummy.impossible.Everyone knows, even kids, that the monsters shown on TV are fake.But—not the make-up on the Joker's face.The Joker isn't covered in bandages either.It did have bandages on its body—mainly its neck and wrists—that flapped in the wind.But Ben could really see the face. His withered face was lumpy and wrinkled like a crumpled parchment map. The forehead was split, but not bleeding.On the black hole-like mouth, the shriveled lips were stretched back, and the teeth were bared, like crooked tombstones.There were no eyes in that face.But the dark, wrinkled eye sockets shone like cold jewels set in the eyes of scarabs carved by the Egyptians.Although the wind was blowing from behind, he seemed to smell spices and rotting shrouds treated with special herbs.There is also the smell of sand, and the smell of blood that has been dried into powder for hundreds of years... "Here we all fly," said the clown mummy hoarsely.A shudder ran through Bane as he realized it had come to the bridge, right at its feet, a withered, deformed, skeletal hand outstretched, the thin layer of skin rustling like a banner in the wind. The dry hand touched his toes.Ben woke up with a start, and ran down the bridge in great strides, the bell still ringing in his ears.It must be a mirage, it must be.How could the clown have traveled such a long distance during the ten seconds that the bell rang. But this horror is no mirage.It is not an illusion that the hot tears that flowed from the eyes soon formed thin ice on the cheeks.He ran home desperately, and heard the mummies behind him in clown costumes climbing up the canal bridge, ancient fossilized nails scraping on the railings, and ancient tendons creaking like unoiled door hinges.He heard heavy, rapid breathing and smelled the spices from the shroud.He knew that in a moment the dry hand would fall on his shoulder and roll across his body, bringing him to face the smiling, wrinkled face.The breath of the dead enveloped him.Those unfathomable black eye sockets stared at him.The mouth of the black hole opened, and he got the balloon.All balloons. He ran all the way to the corner of the street in front of his house, crying so hard that his heart was beating so violently that he could even hear it thumping.But when he turned his head, he saw that the street behind him was empty, and the arch bridge was also empty.He couldn't see the canal.But he knew that even if he could see it, there was nothing there.No, if the mummy was not a hallucination or a mirage, if it were real, it must still be waiting under the bridge—waiting under the bridge like a giant in a fairy tale. under.Hide below. Ben hurried home, taking a few steps and looking back until the door behind him was securely locked.He told his mother he was counting for Mrs. Douglas.Then sit down to dinner. Every time he swallowed, he felt that the mummy was farther away from him, like a dream.That's not true, those things are only in commercials on TV, it's not true at all. No, they are not real.Monsters on TV, monsters in movies, and monsters in comic books are not real, unless you can't sleep in bed; unless you eat the 4 candies that are pressed under the pillow to ward off evil spirits; Unless the bed under you has turned into a lake of nightmares, and the wind howls outside, and you are too scared to look out the window, afraid that there will be a face there, a face that is not rotten but withered like a fallen leaf, with a grinning grin, a pair of The face with eyes hidden deep in the black eye sockets; unless you see a hand with white bones holding up a handful of balloons: Come and see the beautiful scenery here, feed the elephants, and take a thrilling slide!Oh, Ben, you'll fly——12 Ben woke up with a start, still remembering the mummy in his dream.The darkness enveloped him, making him even more terrified.He moved his body vigorously, and a tree root poked his back angrily. Ben crawled out towards the light outside.With the warm sunshine in the afternoon and the gurgling sound of the brook, everything returned to calm again.It is summer now, not winter.The mummy didn't take him away either, and sent him to its gloomy ancient tomb.Bane just hid in a sand hole under the exposed tree roots to escape the pursuit of those bullies.He stands on this land called Bantha. Ben looked at his ragged clothes in dismay, knowing that he would be scolded by his mother again when he returned home. After a good night's sleep, Ben is much more energetic now.He got off the embankment and walked back along the creek.His whole body was hurt and bloody, and every step he took was like walking on broken glass, and the pain was unbearable.The kids who built the dam should have gone by now, he consoled himself.He doesn't know how long he's been asleep, but Bill Dunbar and his friends should know it's safer to play elsewhere after their encounter with the bullies. Ben trudged forward with his injured leg, thinking that if the bullies came back at this moment, there was no way he could escape.But he doesn't care anymore. He came around the bend in the creek and stood for a moment, looking around.The kids who built the dam are still there.One of them was Bill Dunbon.He knelt beside the other child, who was sitting against the bank of the stream with his head thrown back.His nose and chin were covered with blood, and there were streaks of blood on his neck. Stuttering Bill looked up suddenly to see Ben standing there.Bensi was taken aback.He saw that something had happened to the boy sitting with his back against the bank of the stream.Dunbang was scared to death.He thought painfully: "Isn't this nightmare day over yet?" "I don't know you, you, can you help me, me, me?" Bill Dunbar said, "He, his wheezing, wheezing, wheezing, spray is gone, gone. I think he's going to -" His face froze unnaturally, flushed from the suffocation.He tried his best to utter the word, but he stuttered like a machine gun, and his saliva flowed out of anxiety.It took Ben a while to realize what Bill was trying to say was that the kid was dying.