His scream made an endless mad tune above the engine rumble. His body was lifted from the floor, jerked, twisted, thrown back down again like some fantastic, jiggling marionette on strings.
Doc was on the floor. His screams made an endless, mad tune above the engine rumble.
"Doc," Caffrey called, "Doc, listen, it's me, Cap."
The screaming slobbered into nothing. Doc's hands clutched at the iron frame of his bunk. They held there while the rest of his body was convulsed and pulled into insane contortions.
"Infected," Doc said, forming his words into a shriek. "I got it from the child ... we're all infected ... all ... we'll infect Mars ... spread ... spread ... spread...." The last word went up and up like the ship's takeoff siren. Doc struggled to hold onto the bed but his body went jerking away across the floor.
Dillman peered over Caffrey's shoulder. The big man spoke very softly. "Go back to my cabin. Get my gun. Hurry."
Dillman hesitated, then ran. Caffrey stood fascinated watching the devil's dance of the diseased man. Finally, something cool and hard was placed in his hand. The scream tore at his eardrums.