'That's finished it,' groaned Roy.
Again the destroyer's gun roared, and the deckhouse melted in a shower of
splinters. Ken, struck on the leg by one of them, toppled over helplessly.
His leg felt numb, he could not move. There was nothing for it now but to
await the inevitable end.
Crash! Vaguely Ken realised that this was a heavier gun than the
12-pounders of the destroyer. He heard a shell roar overhead, then from
the destroyer, now no more than a hundred yards away, rose a blinding
flash.
'Hurrah!' he heard Roy shout, but the reason he could not imagine. He made
a desperate effort to struggle up, felt the blood gush hot from his wound.
His head spun, he fell back and knew no more.
Coming back to consciousness after being knocked out is always a slow and
painful business. The first thing that Ken's muddled brain took in was the
surprising fact that he was lying in a real bed between beautifully clean
sheets.
He had not been in such a bed for more than six months, and he could not
understand it at all.
Pages:
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300