I've got a crack ... lean forward ... hit closer to the rim ... can't see ...
His handkerchief dropped. He couldn't stop coughing. When smoke blew away he looked about and saw that nobody was using the extinguishers: were they empty? Everyone had backed away.
Goddammit ... I'll open that starboard door ... I'll hack it open with my bare hands!
He rammed and the door yielded. He slammed at it again and it gave a hair. He hit it again with every ounce of muscle. His hands slipped and he almost toppled.
He hit nearer the lock: a steel shaving gave way: hurling himself against the bar, the lock snapped; he pressed down, and the door opened.
Breathing in gasps, he threw the little door wide.
Smoke, black smoke, crawled out of the cab.
Crewmen pushed Dennison aside and crowded close to 67. Leaning against his tank, Dennison watched them, unseeing, unmoving: glad to be away from 67. He wanted water but could not ask for it. In spite of himself he vomited green slime.
Too late ... there's nothing anybody can do ... I was too late.
Nobody can crawl inside: the guys are dead: they've been dead for ... it's done: it's over: maybe that's something: