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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/32705-h.zip b/32705-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..739f134 --- /dev/null +++ b/32705-h.zip diff --git a/32705-h/32705-h.htm b/32705-h/32705-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e7b37ba --- /dev/null +++ b/32705-h/32705-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2764 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<!-- $Id: header.txt 236 2009-12-07 18:57:00Z vlsimpson $ --> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Deadly City, by Ivar Jorgenson. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; +} /* page numbers */ + +.linenum { + position: absolute; + top: auto; + left: 4%; +} /* poetry number */ + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.sidenote { + width: 20%; + padding-bottom: .5em; + padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; + padding-right: .5em; + margin-left: 1em; + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; + color: black; + background: #eeeeee; + border: dashed 1px; +} + +.bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + +.bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + +.bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + +.br {border-right: solid 2px;} + +.bbox {border: solid 2px;} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.u {text-decoration: underline;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +.figleft { + float: left; + clear: left; + margin-left: 0; + margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 1em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +.figright { + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-left: 1em; + margin-bottom: + 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 0; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +/* Footnotes */ +.footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: + none; +} + +/* Poetry */ +.poem { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left; +} + +.poem br {display: none;} + +.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + +.poem span.i0 { + display: block; + margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i2 { + display: block; + margin-left: 2em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i4 { + display: block; + margin-left: 4em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Deadly City, by Paul W. Fairman + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Deadly City + +Author: Paul W. Fairman + +Illustrator: Ed Emsh + +Release Date: June 5, 2010 [EBook #32705] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DEADLY CITY *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + + +<h1>DEADLY CITY</h1> + +<h2>By Ivar Jorgenson</h2> + +<h3>Illustrated by Ed Emsh</h3> + +<p>[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from IF Worlds of Science +Fiction March 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that +the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="sidenote"><i>You're all alone in a deserted city. You walk down an empty +street, yearning for the sight of one living face—one moving figure. +Then you see a man on a corner and you know your terror has only +begun.</i></div> + + +<p>He awoke slowly, like a man plodding knee-deep through the thick stuff +of nightmares. There was no definite line between the dream-state and +wakefulness. Only a dawning knowledge that he was finally conscious and +would have to do something about it.</p> + +<p>He opened his eyes, but this made no difference. The blackness remained. +The pain in his head brightened and he reached up and found the big lump +they'd evidently put on his head for good measure—a margin of safety.</p> + +<p>They must have been prudent people, because the bang on the head had +hardly been necessary. The spiked drink which they had given him would +have felled an ox. He remembered going down into the darkness after +drinking it, and of knowing what it was. He remembered the helpless +feeling.</p> + +<p>It did not worry him now. He was a philosophical person, and the fact he +was still alive cancelled out the drink and its result. He thought, with +savor, of the chestnut-haired girl who had watched him take the drink. +She had worn a very low bodice, and that was where his eyes had been at +the last moment—on the beautiful, tanned breasts—until they'd wavered +and puddled into a blur and then into nothing.</p> + +<p>The chestnut-haired girl had been nice, but now she was gone and there +were more pressing problems.</p> + +<p>He sat up, his hands behind him at the ends of stiff arms clawing into +long-undisturbed dust and filth. His movement stirred the dust and it +rose into his nostrils.</p> + +<p>He straightened and banged his head against a low ceiling. The pain made +him sick for a minute and he sat down to regain his senses. He cursed +the ceiling, as a matter of course, in an agonized whisper.</p> + +<p>Ready to move again, he got onto his hands and knees and crawled +cautiously forward, exploring as he went. His hand pushed through +cobwebs and found a rough, cement wall. He went around and around. It +was all cement—all solid.</p> + +<p>Hell! They hadn't sealed him up in this place! There had been a way in +so there had to be a way out. He went around again.</p> + +<p>Then he tried the ceiling and found the opening—a wooden trap covering +a four-by-four hole—covering it snugly. He pushed the trap away and +daylight streamed in. He raised himself up until he was eye-level with a +discarded shaving cream jar lying on the bricks of an alley. He could +read the trade mark on the jar, and the slogan: "For the Meticulous +Man".</p> + +<p>He pulled himself up into the alley. As a result of an orderly +childhood, he replaced the wooden trap and kicked the shaving cream jar +against a garbage can. He rubbed his chin and looked up and down the +alley.</p> + +<p>It was high noon. An uncovered sun blazed down to tell him this.</p> + +<p>And there was no one in sight.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>He started walking toward the nearer mouth of the alley. He had been in +that hole a long time, he decided. This conviction came from his hunger +and the heavy growth of beard he'd sprouted. Twenty-four hours—maybe +longer. That mickey must have been a lulu.</p> + +<p>He walked out into the cross street. It was empty. No people—no cars +parked at the curbs—only a cat washing its dirty face on a tenement +stoop across the street. He looked up at the tenement windows. They +stared back. There was an empty, deserted look about them.</p> + +<p>The cat flowed down the front steps of the tenement and away toward the +rear and he was truly alone. He rubbed his harsh chin. Must be Sunday, +he thought. Then he knew it could not be Sunday. He'd gone into the +tavern on a Tuesday night. That would make it five days. Too long.</p> + +<p>He had been walking and now he was at an intersection where he could +look up and down a new street. There were no cars—no people. Not even a +cat.</p> + +<p>A sign overhanging the sidewalk said: Restaurant. He went in under the +sign and tried the door. It was locked. There were no lights inside. He +turned away—grinning to reassure himself. Everything was all right. +Just some kind of a holiday. In a big city like Chicago the people go +away on hot summer holidays. They go to the beaches and the parks and +sometimes you can't see a living soul on the streets. And of course you +can't find any cars because the people use them to drive to the beaches +and the parks and out into the country. He breathed a little easier and +started walking again.</p> + +<p>Sure—that was it. Now what the hell holiday was it? He tried to +remember. He couldn't think of what holiday it could be. Maybe they'd +dreamed up a new one. He grinned at that, but the grin was a little +tight and he had to force it. He forced it carefully until his teeth +showed white.</p> + +<p>Pretty soon he would come to a section where everybody hadn't gone to +the beaches and the parks and a restaurant would be open and he'd get a +good meal.</p> + +<p>A meal? He fumbled toward his pockets. He dug into them and found a +handkerchief and a button from his cuff. He remembered that the button +had hung loose so he'd pulled it off to keep from losing it. He hadn't +lost the button, but everything else was gone. He scowled. The least +they could have done was to leave a man eating money.</p> + +<p>He turned another corner—into another street—and it was like the one +before. No cars—no people—not even any cats.</p> + +<p>Panic welled up. He stopped and whirled around to look behind him. No +one was there. He walked in a tight circle, looking in all directions. +Windows stared back at him—eyes that didn't care where everybody had +gone or when they would come back. The windows could wait. The windows +were not hungry. Their heads didn't ache. They weren't scared.</p> + +<p>He began walking and his path veered outward from the sidewalk until he +was in the exact center of the silent street. He walked down the worn +white line. When he got to the next corner he noticed that the traffic +signals were not working. Black, empty eyes.</p> + +<p>His pace quickened. He walked faster—ever faster until he was trotting +on the brittle pavement, his sharp steps echoing against the buildings. +Faster. Another corner. And he was running, filled with panic, down the +empty street.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The girl opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. The ceiling was a +blur but it began to clear as her mind cleared. The ceiling became a +surface of dirty, cracked plaster and there was a feeling of dirt and +squalor in her mind.</p> + +<p>It was always like that at these times of awakening, but doubly bitter +now, because she had never expected to awaken again. She reached down +and pulled the wadded sheet from beneath her legs and spread it over +them. She looked at the bottle on the shabby bed-table. There were three +sleeping pills left in it. The girl's eyes clouded with resentment. +You'd think seven pills would have done it. She reached down and took +the sheet in both hands and drew it taut over her stomach. This was a +gesture of frustration. Seven hadn't been enough, and here she was +again—awake in the world she'd wanted to leave. Awake with the +necessary edge of determination gone.</p> + +<p>She pulled the sheet into a wad and threw it at the wall. She got up and +walked to the window and looked out. Bright daylight. She wondered how +long she had slept. A long time, no doubt.</p> + +<p>Her naked thigh pressed against the windowsill and her bare stomach +touched the dirty pane. Naked in the window, but it didn't matter, +because it gave onto an airshaft and other windows so caked with grime +as to be of no value as windows.</p> + +<p>But even aside from that, it didn't matter. It didn't matter in the +least.</p> + +<p>She went to the washstand, her bare feet making no sound on the worn +rug. She turned on the faucets, but no water came. No water, and she had +a terrible thirst. She went to the door and had thrown the bolt before +she remembered again that she was naked. She turned back and saw the +half-empty Pepsi-Cola bottle on the floor beside the bed table. Someone +else had left it there—how many nights ago?—but she drank it anyhow, +and even though it was flat and warm it soothed her throat.</p> + +<p>She bent over to pick up garments from the floor and dizziness came, +forcing her to the edge of the bed. After a while it passed and she got +her legs into one of the garments and pulled it on.</p> + +<p>Taking cosmetics from her bag, she went again to the washstand and tried +the taps. Still no water. She combed her hair, jerking the comb through +the mats and gnarls with a satisfying viciousness. When the hair fell +into its natural, blond curls, she applied powder and lip-stick. She +went back to the bed, picked up her brassiere and began putting it on as +she walked to the cracked, full-length mirror in the closet door. With +the brassiere in place, she stood looking at her slim image. She assayed +herself with complete impersonality.</p> + +<p>She shouldn't look as good as she did—not after the beating she'd +taken. Not after the long nights and the days and the years, even though +the years did not add up to very many.</p> + +<p>I could be someone's wife, she thought, with wry humor. I could be +sending kids to school and going out to argue with the grocer about the +tomatoes being too soft. I don't look bad at all.</p> + +<p>She raised her eyes until they were staring into their own images in the +glass and she spoke aloud in a low, wondering voice. She said, "Who the +hell am I, anyway? Who am I? A body named Linda—that's who I am. +No—that's <i>what</i> I am. A body's not a <i>who</i>—it's a <i>what</i>. One hundred +and fourteen pounds of well-built blond body called Linda—model +1931—no fender dents—nice paint job. Come in and drive me away. Price +tag—"</p> + +<p>She bit into the lower lip she'd just finished reddening and turned +quickly to walk to the bed and wriggle into her dress—a gray and green +cotton—the only one she had. She picked up her bag and went to the +door. There she stopped to turn and thumb her nose at the three sleeping +pills in the bottle before she went out and closed the door after +herself.</p> + +<p>The desk clerk was away from the cubbyhole from which he presided over +the lobby, and there were no loungers to undress her as she walked +toward the door.</p> + +<p>Nor was there anyone out in the street. The girl looked north and south. +No cars in sight either. No buses waddling up to the curb to spew out +passengers.</p> + +<p>The girl went five doors north and tried to enter a place called Tim's +Hamburger House. As the lock held and the door refused to open, she saw +that there were no lights on inside—no one behind the counter. The +place was closed.</p> + +<p>She walked on down the street followed only by the lonesome sound of her +own clicking heels. All the stores were closed. All the lights were out.</p> + +<p><i>All the people were gone.</i></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>He was a huge man, and the place of concealment of the Chicago Avenue +police station was very small—merely an indentation low in the cement +wall behind two steam pipes. The big man had lain in this niche for +forty-eight hours. He had slugged a man over the turn of a card in a +poolroom pinochle game, had been arrested in due course, and was +awaiting the disposal of his case.</p> + +<p>He was sorry he had slugged the man. He had not had any deep hatred for +him, but rather a rage of the moment that demanded violence as its +outlet. Although he did not consider it a matter of any great +importance, he did not look forward to the six month's jail sentence he +would doubtless be given.</p> + +<p>His opportunity to hide in the niche had come as accidentally and as +suddenly as his opportunity to slug his card partner. It had come after +the prisoners had been advised of the crisis and were being herded into +vans for transportation elsewhere. He had snatched the opportunity +without giving any consideration whatever to the crisis. Probably +because he did not have enough imagination to fear anything—however +terrible—which might occur in the future. And because he treasured his +freedom above all else. Freedom for today, tomorrow could take care of +itself.</p> + +<p>Now, after forty-eight hours, he writhed and twisted his huge body out +of the niche and onto the floor of the furnace room. His legs were numb +and he found that he could not stand. He managed to sit up and was able +to bend his back enough so his great hands could reach his legs and +begin to massage life back into them.</p> + +<p>So elementally brutal was this man that he pounded his legs until they +were black and blue, before feeling returned to them. In a few minutes +he was walking out of the furnace room through a jail house which should +now be utterly deserted. But was it? He went slowly, gliding along close +to the walls to reach the front door unchallenged.</p> + +<p>He walked out into the street. It was daylight and the street was +completely deserted. The man took a deep breath and grinned. "I'll be +damned," he muttered. "I'll be double and triple damned. They're all +gone. Every damn one of them run off like rats and I'm the only one +left. I'll be damned!"</p> + +<p>A tremendous sense of exultation seized him. He clenched his fists and +laughed loud, his laugh echoing up the street. He was happier than he +had ever been in his quick, violent life. And his joy was that of a +child locked in a pantry with a huge chocolate cake.</p> + +<p>He rubbed a hand across his mouth, looked up the street, began walking. +"I wonder if they took all the whisky with them," he said. Then he +grinned; he was sure they had not.</p> + +<p>He began walking in long strides toward Clark Street. In toward the +still heart of the empty city.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>He was a slim, pale-skinned little man, and very dangerous. He was also +very clever. Eventually they would have found out, but he had been +clever enough to deceive them and now they would never know. There was +great wealth in his family, and with the rest of them occupied with +leaving the city and taking what valuables they could on such short +notice, he had been put in charge of one of the chauffeurs.</p> + +<p>The chauffeur had been given the responsibility of getting the +pale-skinned young man out of the city. But the young man had caused +several delays until all the rest were gone. Then, meekly enough, he had +accompanied the chauffeur to the garage. The chauffeur got behind the +wheel of the last remaining car—a Cadillac sedan—and the young man had +gotten into the rear seat.</p> + +<p>But before the chauffeur could start the motor, the young man hit him on +the head with a tire bar he had taken from a shelf as they had entered +the garage.</p> + +<p>The bar went deep into the chauffeur's skull with a solid sound, and +thus the chauffeur found the death he was in the very act of fleeing.</p> + +<p>The young man pulled the dead chauffeur from the car and laid him on the +cement floor. He laid him down very carefully, so that he was in the +exact center of a large square of outlined cement with his feet pointing +straight north and his outstretched arms pointing south.</p> + +<p>The young man placed the chauffeur's cap very carefully upon his chest, +because neatness pleased him. Then he got into the car, started it, and +headed east toward Lake Michigan and the downtown section.</p> + +<p>After traveling three or four miles, he turned the car off the road and +drove it into a telephone post. Then he walked until he came to some +high weeds. He lay down in the weeds and waited.</p> + +<p>He knew there would probably be a last vanguard of militia hunting for +stragglers. If they saw a moving car they would investigate. They would +take him into custody and force him to leave the city.</p> + +<p>This, he felt, they had no right to do. All his life he had been ordered +about—told to do this and that and the other thing. Stupid orders from +stupid people. Idiots who went so far as to claim the whole city would +be destroyed, just to make people do as they said. God! The ends to +which stupid people would go in order to assert their wills over +brilliant people.</p> + +<p>The young man lay in the weeds and dozed off, his mind occupied with the +pleasant memory of the tire iron settling into the skull of the +chauffeur.</p> + +<p>After a while he awoke and heard the cars of the last vanguard passing +down the road. They stopped, inspected the Cadillac and found it +serviceable. They took it with them, but they did not search the weeds +along the road.</p> + +<p>When they had disappeared toward the west, the young man came back to +the road and began walking east, in toward the city.</p> + +<p>Complete destruction in two days?</p> + +<p>Preposterous.</p> + +<p>The young man smiled.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The girl was afraid. For hours she had walked the streets of the empty +city and the fear, strengthened by weariness, was now mounting toward +terror. "One face," she whispered. "Just one person coming out of a +house or walking across the street. That's all I ask. Somebody to tell +me what this is all about. If I can find one person, I won't be afraid +any more."</p> + +<p>And the irony of it struck her. A few hours previously she had attempted +suicide. Sick of herself and of all people, she had tried to end her own +life. Therefore, by acknowledging death as the answer, she should now +have no fear whatever of anything. Reconciled to crossing the bridge +into death, no facet of life should have held terror for her.</p> + +<p>But the empty city did hold terror. One face—one moving form was all +she asked for.</p> + +<p>Then, a second irony. When she saw the man at the corner of Washington +and Wells, her terror increased. They saw each other at almost the same +moment. Both stopped and stared. Fingers of panic ran up the girl's +spine. The man raised a hand and the spell was broken. The girl turned +and ran, and there was more terror in her than there had been before.</p> + +<div class="figright"> +<img src="images/illus1.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<p>She knew how absurd this was, but still she ran blindly. What had she to +fear? She knew all about men; all the things men could do they had +already done to her. Murder was the ultimate, but she was fresh from a +suicide attempt. Death should hold no terrors for her.</p> + +<p>She thought of these things as the man's footsteps sounded behind her +and she turned into a narrow alley seeking a hiding place. She found +none and the man turned in after her.</p> + +<p>She found a passageway, entered with the same blindness which had +brought her into the alley. There was a steel door at the end and a +brick lying by the sill. The door was locked. She picked up the brick +and turned. The man skidded on the filthy alley surface as he turned +into the areaway.</p> + +<p>The girl raised the brick over her head. "Keep away! Stay away from me!"</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute! Take it easy. I'm not going to hurt you!"</p> + +<p>"Get away!"</p> + +<p>Her arm moved downward. The man rushed in and caught her wrist. The +brick went over his shoulder and the nails of her other hand raked his +face. He seized her without regard for niceties and they went to the +ground. She fought with everything she had and he methodically +neutralized all her weapons—her hands, her legs, her teeth—until she +could not move.</p> + +<p>"Leave me alone. Please!"</p> + +<p>"What's wrong with you? I'm not going to hurt you. But I'm not going to +let you hit me with a brick, either!"</p> + +<p>"What do you want? Why did you chase me?"</p> + +<p>"Look—I'm a peaceful guy, but I'm not going to let you get away. I +spent all afternoon looking for somebody. I found you and you ran away. +I came after you."</p> + +<p>"I haven't done anything to you."</p> + +<p>"That's silly talk. Come on—grow up! I said I'm not going to hurt you."</p> + +<p>"Let me up."</p> + +<p>"So you can run away again? Not for a while. I want to talk to you."</p> + +<p>"I—I won't run. I was scared. I don't know why. You're hurting me."</p> + +<p>He got up—gingerly—and lifted her to her feet. He smiled, still +holding both her hands. "I'm sorry. I guess it's natural for you to be +scared. My name's Frank Brooks. I just want to find out what the hell +happened to this town."</p> + +<p>He let her withdraw her hands, but he still blocked her escape. She +moved a pace backward and straightened her clothing. "I don't know what +happened. I was looking for someone too."</p> + +<p>He smiled again. "And then you ran."</p> + +<p>"I don't know why. I guess—"</p> + +<p>"What's your name."</p> + +<p>"Nora—Nora Spade."</p> + +<p>"You slept through it too?"</p> + +<p>"Yes ... yes. I slept through it and came out and they were all gone."</p> + +<p>"Let's get out of this alley." He preceded her out, but he waited for +her when there was room for them to walk side by side, and she did not +try to run away. That phase was evidently over.</p> + +<p>"I got slipped a mickey in a tavern," Frank Brooks said. "Then they +slugged me and put me in a hole."</p> + +<p>His eyes questioned. She felt their demand and said, "I was—asleep in +my hotel room."</p> + +<p>"They overlooked you?"</p> + +<p>"I guess so."</p> + +<p>"Then you don't know anything about it?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing. Something terrible must have happened."</p> + +<p>"Let's go down this way," Frank said, and they moved toward Madison +Street. He had taken her arm and she did not pull away. Rather, she +walked invitingly close to him.</p> + +<p>She said, "It's so spooky. So ... empty. I guess that's what scared me."</p> + +<p>"It would scare anybody. There must have been an evacuation of some +kind."</p> + +<p>"Maybe the Russians are going to drop a bomb."</p> + +<p>Frank shook his head. "That wouldn't explain it. I mean, the Russians +wouldn't let us know ahead of time. Besides, the army would be here. +Everybody wouldn't be gone."</p> + +<p>"There's been a lot of talk about germ warfare. Do you suppose the +water, maybe, has been poisoned?"</p> + +<p>He shook his head. "The same thing holds true. Even if they moved the +people out, the army would be here."</p> + +<p>"I don't know. It just doesn't make sense."</p> + +<p>"It happened, so it has to make sense. It was something that came up all +of a sudden. They didn't have much more than twenty-four hours." He +stopped suddenly and looked at her. "We've got to get out of here!"</p> + +<p>Nora Spade smiled for the first time, but without humor. "How? I haven't +seen one car. The buses aren't running."</p> + +<p>His mind was elsewhere. They had started walking again. "Funny I didn't +think of that before."</p> + +<p>"Think of what?"</p> + +<p>"That anybody left in this town is a dead pigeon. The only reason they'd +clear out a city would be to get away from certain death. That would +mean death is here for anybody that stays. Funny. I was so busy looking +for somebody to talk to that I never thought of that."</p> + +<p>"I did."</p> + +<p>"Is that what you were scared of?"</p> + +<p>"Not particularly. I'm not afraid to die. It was something else that +scared me. The aloneness, I guess."</p> + +<p>"We'd better start walking west—out of the city. Maybe we'll find a car +or something."</p> + +<p>"I don't think we'll find any cars."</p> + +<p>He drew her to a halt and looked into her face. "You aren't afraid at +all, are you?"</p> + +<p>She thought for a moment. "No, I guess I'm not. Not of dying, that is. +Dying is a normal thing. But I was afraid of the empty streets—nobody +around. That was weird."</p> + +<p>"It isn't weird now?"</p> + +<p>"Not—not as much."</p> + +<p>"I wonder how much time we've got?"</p> + +<p>Nora shrugged. "I don't know, but I'm hungry."</p> + +<p>"We can fix that. I broke into a restaurant a few blocks back and got +myself a sandwich. I think there's still food around. They couldn't take +it all with them."</p> + +<p>They were on Madison Street and they turned east on the south side of +the street. Nora said, "I wonder if there are any other people still +here—like us?"</p> + +<p>"I think there must be. Not very many, but a few. They would have had to +clean four million people out overnight. It stands to reason they must +have missed a few. Did you ever try to empty a sack of sugar? Really +empty it? It's impossible. Some of the grains always stick to the sack."</p> + +<p>A few minutes later the wisdom of this observation was proven when they +came to a restaurant with the front window broken out and saw a man and +a woman sitting at one of the tables.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>He was a huge man with a shock of black hair and a mouth slightly open +showing a set of incredibly white teeth. He waved an arm and shouted, +"Come on in! Come on in for crissake and sit down! We got beer and roast +beef and the beer's still cold. Come on in and meet Minna."</p> + +<p>This was different, Nora thought. Not eerie. Not weird, like seeing a +man standing on a deserted street corner with no one else around. This +seemed normal, natural, and even the smashed window didn't detract too +much from the naturalness.</p> + +<p>They went inside. There were chairs at the table and they sat down. The +big man did not get up. He waved a hand toward his companion and said, +"This is Minna. Ain't she something? I found her sitting at an empty bar +scared to death. We came to an understanding and I brought her along." +He grinned at the woman and winked. "We came to a real understanding, +didn't we, Minna?"</p> + +<p>Minna was a completely colorless woman of perhaps thirty-five. Her skin +was smooth and pale and she wore no makeup of any kind. Her hair was +drawn straight back into a bun. The hair had no predominating color. It +was somewhere between light brown and blond.</p> + +<p>She smiled a little sadly, but the laugh did not cover her worn, tired +look. It seemed more like a gesture of obedience than anything else. +"Yes. We came to an understanding."</p> + +<p>"I'm Jim Wilson," the big man boomed. "I was in the Chicago Avenue jug +for slugging a guy in a card game. They kind of overlooked me when they +cleaned the joint out." He winked again. "I kind of helped them overlook +me. Then I found Minna." There was tremendous relish in his words.</p> + +<p>Frank started introductions which Nora Spade cut in on. "Maybe you know +what happened?" she asked.</p> + +<p>Wilson shook his head. "I was in the jug and they didn't tell us. They +just started cleaning out the joint. There was talk in the +bullpen—invasion or something. Nobody knew for sure. Have some beer and +meat."</p> + +<p>Nora turned to the quiet Minna. "Did you hear anything?"</p> + +<p>"Naw," Wilson said with a kind of affectionate contempt. "She don't know +anything about it. She lived in some attic dump and was down with a sore +throat. She took some pills or something and when she woke up they were +gone."</p> + +<p>"I went to work and—" Minna began, but Wilson cut her off.</p> + +<p>"She swabs out some joints on Chicago Avenue for a living and that was +how she happened to be sitting in that tavern. It's payday, and Minna +was waiting for her dough!" He exploded into laughter and slapped the +table with a huge hand. "Can you beat that? Waiting for her pay at a +time like this."</p> + +<p>Frank Brooks set down his beer bottle. The beer was cold and it tasted +good. "Have you met anybody else? There must be some other people +around."</p> + +<p>"Uh-uh. Haven't met anybody but Minna." He turned his eyes on the woman +again, then got to his feet. "Come on, Minna. You and I got to have a +little conference. We got things to talk about." Grinning, he walked +toward the rear of the restaurant. Minna got up more slowly. She +followed him behind the counter and into the rear of the place.</p> + +<p>Alone with Nora, Frank said, "You aren't eating. Want me to look for +something else?"</p> + +<p>"No—I'm not very hungry. I was just wondering—"</p> + +<p>"Wondering about what?"</p> + +<p>"When it will happen. When whatever is going to happen—you know what I +mean."</p> + +<p>"I'd rather know <i>what's</i> going to happen. I hate puzzles. It's hell to +have to get killed and not know what killed you."</p> + +<p>"We aren't being very sensible, are we?"</p> + +<p>"How do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"We should at least act normal."</p> + +<p>"I don't get it."</p> + +<p>Nora frowned in slight annoyance. "Normal people would be trying to +reach safety. They wouldn't be sitting in a restaurant drinking beer. We +should be trying to get away. Even if it does mean walking. Normal +people would be trying to get away."</p> + +<p>Frank stared at his bottle for a moment. "We should be scared stiff, +shouldn't we?"</p> + +<p>It was Nora's turn to ponder. "I'm not sure. Maybe not. I know I'm not +fighting anything inside—fear, I mean. I just don't seem to care one +way or another."</p> + +<p>"I care," Frank replied. "I care. I don't want to die. But we're faced +with a situation, and either way it's a gamble. We might be dead before +I finish this bottle of beer. If that's true, why not sit here and be +comfortable? Or we might have time to walk far enough to get out of +range of whatever it is that chased everybody."</p> + +<p>"Which way do you think it is?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think we have time to get out of town. They cleaned it out too +fast. We'd need at least four or five hours to get away. If we had that +much time the army, or whoever did it, would still be around."</p> + +<p>"Maybe they didn't know themselves when it's going to happen."</p> + +<p>He made an impatient gesture. "What difference does it make? We're in a +situation we didn't ask to get in. Our luck put us here and I'm damned +if I'm going to kick a hole in the ceiling and yell for help."</p> + +<p>Nora was going to reply, but at that moment Jim Wilson came striding out +front. He wore his big grin and he carried another half-dozen bottles of +beer. "Minna'll be out in a minute," he said. "Women are always slower +than hell."</p> + +<p>He dropped into a chair and snapped the cap off a beer bottle with his +thumb. He held the bottle up and squinted through it, sighing gustily. +"Man! I ain't never had it so good." He tilted the bottle in salute, and +drank.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The sun was lowering in the west now, and when Minna reappeared it +seemed that she materialized from the shadows, so quietly did she move. +Jim Wilson opened another bottle and put it before her. "Here—have a +drink, baby."</p> + +<p>Obediently, she tilted the bottle and drank.</p> + +<p>"What do you plan to do?" Frank asked.</p> + +<p>"It'll be dark soon," Wilson said. "We ought to go out and try to +scrounge some flashlights. I bet the power plants are dead. Probably +aren't any flashlights either."</p> + +<p>"Are you going to stay here?" Nora asked. "Here in the Loop?"</p> + +<p>He seemed surprised. "Why not? A man'd be a fool to walk out on all +this. All he wants to eat and drink. No goddam cops around. The life of +Reilly and I should walk out?"</p> + +<p>"Aren't you afraid of what's going to happen?"</p> + +<p>"I don't give a good goddam what's going to happen. What the hell! +Something's always going to happen."</p> + +<p>"They didn't evacuate the city for nothing," Frank said.</p> + +<p>"You mean we can all get killed?" Jim Wilson laughed. "Sure we can. We +could have got killed last week too. We could of got batted in the can +by a truck anytime we crossed the street." He emptied his bottle, threw +it accurately at a mirror over the cash register. The crash was +thunderous. "Trouble with you people, you're worry warts," he said with +an expansive grin. "Let's go get us some flashlights so we can find our +way to bed in one of those fancy hotels."</p> + +<p>He got to his feet and Minna arose also, a little tired, a little +apprehensive, but entirely submissive. Jim Wilson said, "Come on, baby. +I sure won't want to lose <i>you</i>." He grinned at the others. "You guys +coming?"</p> + +<p>Frank's eyes met Nora's. He shrugged. "Why not?" he said. "Unless you +want to start walking."</p> + +<p>"I'm too tired," Nora said.</p> + +<p>As they stepped out through the smashed window, both Nora and Frank +half-expected to see other forms moving up and down Madison Street. But +there was no one. Only the unreal desolation of the lonely pavement and +the dark-windowed buildings.</p> + +<p>"The biggest ghost town on earth," Frank muttered.</p> + +<p>Nora's hand had slipped into Frank's. He squeezed it and neither of them +seemed conscious of the contact.</p> + +<p>"I wonder," Nora said. "Maybe this is only one of them. Maybe all the +other big cities are evacuated too."</p> + +<p>Jim Wilson and Minna were walking ahead. He turned. "If you two can't +sleep without finding out what's up, it's plenty easy to do."</p> + +<p>"You think we could find a battery radio in some store?" Frank asked.</p> + +<p>"Hell no! They'll all be gone. But all you'd have to do is snoop around +in some newspaper office. If you can read you can find out what +happened."</p> + +<p>It seemed strange to Frank that he had not thought of this. Then he +realized he hadn't tried very hard to think of anything at all. He was +surprised, also, at his lack of fear. He's gone through life pretty much +taking things as they came—as big a sucker as the next man—making more +than his quota of mistakes and blunders. Finding himself completely +alone in a deserted city for the first time in his life, he had +naturally fallen prey to sudden fright. But that had gradually passed, +and now he was able to accept the new reality fairly passively. He +wondered if that wasn't pretty much the way of all people. New +situations brought a surge of whatever emotion fitted the picture. Then +the emotion subsided and the new thing became the ordinary.</p> + +<p>This, he decided, was the manner in which humanity survived. Humanity +took things as they came. Pile on enough of anything and it becomes the +ordinary.</p> + +<p>Jim Wilson had picked up a garbage box and hurled it through the window +of an electric shop. The glass came down with a crash that shuddered up +the empty darkening street and grumbled off into silence. Jim Wilson +went inside. "I'll see what I can find. You stay out here and watch for +cops." His laughter echoed out as he disappeared.</p> + +<p>Minna stood waiting silently, unmoving, and somehow she reminded Frank +of a dumb animal; an unreasoning creature with no mind of her own, +waiting for a signal from her master. Strangely, he resented this, but +at the same time could find no reason for his resentment, except the +feeling that no one should appear as much a slave as Minna.</p> + +<p>Jim Wilson reappeared in the window. He motioned to Minna. "Come on in, +baby. You and me's got to have a little conference." His exaggerated +wink was barely perceptible in the gloom as Minna stepped over the low +sill into the store. "Won't be long, folks," Wilson said in high good +humor, and the two of them vanished into the darkness beyond.</p> + +<p>Frank Brooks glanced at Nora, but her face was turned away. He cursed +softy under his breath. He said, "Wait a minute," and went into the +store through the huge, jagged opening.</p> + +<p>Inside, he could barely make out the counters. The place was larger than +it had appeared from the outside. Wilson and Minna were nowhere about.</p> + +<p>Frank found the counter he was looking for and pawed out several +flashlights. They were only empty tubes, but he found a case of +batteries in a panel compartment against the wall.</p> + +<p>"Who's there?"</p> + +<p>"Me. I came in for some flashlights."</p> + +<p>"Couldn't you wait?"</p> + +<p>"It's getting dark."</p> + +<p>"You don't have to be so damn impatient." Jim Wilson's voice was hostile +and surly.</p> + +<p>Frank stifled his quick anger. "We'll be outside," he said. He found +Nora waiting where he'd left her. He loaded batteries into four +flashlights before Jim Wilson and Minna reappeared.</p> + +<p>Wilson's good humor was back. "How about the Morrison or the Sherman," +he said. "Or do you want to get real ritzy and walk up to the Drake?"</p> + +<p>"My feet hurt," Minna said. The woman spoke so rarely, Frank Brooks was +startled by her words.</p> + +<p>"Morrison's the closest," Jim Wilson said. "Let's go." He took Minna by +the arm and swung off up the street. Frank and Nora fell in behind.</p> + +<p>Nora shivered. Frank, holding her arm, asked, "Cold?"</p> + +<p>"No. It's just all—unreal again."</p> + +<p>"I see what you mean."</p> + +<p>"I never expected to see the Loop dark. I can't get used to it."</p> + +<p>A vagrant, whispering wind picked up a scrap of paper and whirled it +along the street. It caught against Nora's ankle. She jerked perceptibly +and kicked the scrap away. The wind caught it again and spiralled it +away into the darkness.</p> + +<p>"I want to tell you something," she said.</p> + +<p>"Tell away."</p> + +<p>"I told you before that I slept through the—the evacuation, or whatever +it was. That wasn't exactly true. I did sleep through it, but it was my +fault. I put myself to sleep."</p> + +<p>"I don't get it."</p> + +<p>"I tried to kill myself. Sleeping tablets. Seven of them. They weren't +enough."</p> + +<p>Frank said nothing while they paced off ten steps through the dark +canyon that was Madison Street. Nora wondered if he had heard.</p> + +<p>"I tried to commit suicide."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"I was tired of life, I guess."</p> + +<p>"What do you want—sympathy?"</p> + +<p>The sudden harshness in his voice brought her eyes around, but his face +was a white blur.</p> + +<p>"No—no, I don't think so."</p> + +<p>"Well, you won't get it from me. Suicide is silly. You can have troubles +and all that—everybody has them—but suicide—why did you try it?"</p> + +<p>A high, thin whine—a wordless vibration of eloquence—needled out of +the darkness into their ears. The shock was like a sudden shower of ice +water dashed over their bodies. Nora's fingers dug into Frank's arm, but +he did not feel the cutting nails. "We're—there's someone out there in +the street!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Twenty-five feet ahead of where Frank and Nora stood frozen there burst +the booming voice of Jim Wilson. "What the hell was that?" And the shock +was dispelled. The white circle from Wilson's flash bit out across the +blackness to outline movement on the far side of the street. Then Frank +Brook's light, and Nora's, went exploring.</p> + +<p>"There's somebody over there," Wilson bellowed. "Hey, you! Show your +face! Quit sneaking around!"</p> + +<p>Frank's light swept an arc that clearly outlined the buildings across +the street and then weakened as it swung westward. There was something +or someone back there, but obscured by the dimness. He was swept by a +sense of unreality again.</p> + +<p>"Did you see them?"</p> + +<p>Nora's light beam had dropped to her feet as though she feared to point +it out into the darkness. "I thought I saw something."</p> + +<p>Jim Wilson was swearing industriously. "There was a guy over there. He +ducked around the corner. Some damn fool out scrounging. Wish I had a +gun."</p> + +<p>Frank and Nora moved ahead and the four stood in a group. "Put out your +lights," Wilson said. "They make good targets if the jerk's got any +weapons."</p> + +<p>They stood in the darkness, Nora holding tightly to Frank's arm. Frank +said, "That was the damndest noise I ever heard."</p> + +<p>"Like a siren?" Frank thought Jim Wilson spoke hopefully, as though +wanting somebody to agree with him.</p> + +<p>"Not like any I ever heard. Not like a whistle, either. More of a moan."</p> + +<p>"Let's get into that goddam hotel and—"</p> + +<p>Jim Wilson's words were cut off by a new welling-up of the melancholy +howling. It had a new pattern this time. It sounded from many places; +not nearer, Frank thought, than Lake Street on the north, but spreading +outward and backward and growing fainter until it died on the wind.</p> + +<p>Nora was shivering, clinging to Frank without reserve.</p> + +<p>Jim Wilson said, "I'll be damned if it doesn't sound like a signal of +some kind."</p> + +<p>"Maybe it's a language—a way of communication."</p> + +<p>"But who the hell's communicating?"</p> + +<p>"How would I know?"</p> + +<p>"We best get to that hotel and bar a few doors. A man can't fight in the +dark—and nothing to fight with."</p> + +<p>They hurried up the street, but it was all different now. Gone was the +illusion of being alone; gone the sense of solitude. Around them the +ghost town had come suddenly alive. Sinister forces more frightening +than the previous solitude had now to be reckoned with.</p> + +<p>"Something's happened—something in the last few minutes," Nora +whispered.</p> + +<p>Frank leaned close as they crossed the street to the dark silent pile +that was the Morrison hotel. "I think I know what you mean."</p> + +<p>"It's as though there was no one around and then, suddenly, they came."</p> + +<p>"I think they came and went away again."</p> + +<p>"Did you actually <i>see</i> anyone when you flashed your light?"</p> + +<p>"No—I can't say positively that I did. But I got the impression there +were figures out there—at least dozens of them—and that they moved +back away from the light. Always just on the edge of it."</p> + +<p>"I'm scared, Frank."</p> + +<p>"So am I."</p> + +<p>"Do you think it could all be imagination?"</p> + +<p>"Those moans? Maybe the first one—I've heard of people imagining +sounds. But not the last ones. And besides, we all heard them."</p> + +<p>Jim Wilson, utterly oblivious of any subtle emanations in the air, +boomed out in satisfaction: "We don't have to bust the joint open. The +revolving door works."</p> + +<p>"Then maybe we ought to be careful," Frank said. "Maybe somebody else is +around here."</p> + +<p>"Could be. We'll find out."</p> + +<p>"Why are we afraid?" Nora whispered.</p> + +<p>"It's natural, isn't it?" Frank melted the beam of his light with that +of Jim Wilson. The white finger pierced the darkness inside. Nothing +moved.</p> + +<p>"I don't see why it should be. If there are people in there they must be +as scared as we are."</p> + +<p>Nora was very close to him as they entered.</p> + +<p>The lobby seemed deserted. The flashlight beams scanned the empty chairs +and couches. The glass of the deserted cages threw back reflections.</p> + +<p>"The keys are in there," Frank said. He vaulted the desk and scanned the +numbers under the pigeon holes.</p> + +<p>"We'd better stay down low," Jim Wilson said. "Damned if I'm going to +climb to the penthouse."</p> + +<p>"How about the fourth floor?"</p> + +<p>"That's plenty high enough."</p> + +<p>Frank came out with a handful of keys. "Odd numbers," he said. "Four in +a row."</p> + +<p>"Well I'll be damned," Jim Wilson muttered. But he said no more and they +climbed the stairs in silence. They passed the quiet dining rooms and +banquet halls, and by the time they reached the fourth floor the doors +giving off the corridors had assumed a uniformity.</p> + +<p>"Here they are." He handed a key to Wilson. "That's the end one." He +said nothing as he gave Minna her key, but Wilson grunted, "For +crissake!" in a disgusted voice, took Minna's key and threw it on the +floor.</p> + +<p>Frank and Nora watched as Wilson unlocked his door. Wilson turned. +"Well, goodnight all. If you get goosed by any spooks, just yell."</p> + +<p>Minna followed him without a word and the door closed.</p> + +<p>Frank handed Nora her key. "Lock your door and you'll be safe. I'll +check the room first." He unlocked the door and flashed his light +inside. Nora was close behind him as he entered. He checked the +bathroom. "Everything clear. Lock your door and you'll be safe."</p> + +<p>"Frank."</p> + +<p>"Yes?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid to stay alone."</p> + +<p>"You mean you want me to—"</p> + +<p>"There are two beds here."</p> + +<p>His reply was slow in coming. Nora didn't wait for it. Her voice rose to +the edge of hysteria. "Quit being so damned righteous. Things have +changed! Can't you realize that? What does it matter how or where we +sleep? Does the world care? Will it make a damn bit of difference to the +world whether I strip stark naked in front of you?" A sob choked in her +throat. "Or would that outrage your morality."</p> + +<p>He moved toward her, stopped six inches away. "It isn't that. For God's +sake! I'm no saint. It's just that I thought you—"</p> + +<p>"I'm plain scared, and I don't want to be alone. To me that's all that's +important."</p> + +<p>Her face was against his chest and his arms went around her. But her own +hands were fists held together against him until he could feel her +knuckles, hard, against his chest. She was crying.</p> + +<p>"Sure," Frank said. "I'll stay with you. Now take it easy. Everything's +going to be all right."</p> + +<p>Nora sniffled without bothering to reach for her handkerchief. "Stop +lying. You know it isn't going to be all right."</p> + +<p>Frank was at somewhat of a loss. This flareup of Nora's was entirely +unexpected. He eased toward the place the flashlight had shown the bed +to be. Her legs hit its edge and she sat down.</p> + +<p>"You—you want me to sleep in the other one?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Of course," Nora replied with marked bitterness. "I'm afraid you +wouldn't be very comfortable in with me."</p> + +<p>There was a time of silence. Frank took off his jacket, shirt and +trousers. It was funny, he thought. He'd spent his money, been drugged, +beaten and robbed as a result of one objective—to get into a room alone +with a girl. And a girl not nearly as nice as Nora at that. Now, here he +was alone with a real dream, and he was tongue-tied. It didn't make +sense. He shrugged. Life was crazy sometimes.</p> + +<p>He heard the rustle of garments and wondered how much Nora was taking +off. Then he dropped his trousers, forgotten, to the floor. "Did you +hear that?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. It's that—"</p> + +<p>Frank went to the window, raised the sash. The moaning sound came in +louder, but it was from far distance. "I think that's out around +Evanston."</p> + +<p>Frank felt a warmth on his cheek and he realized Nora was by his side, +leaning forward. He put an arm around her and they stood unmoving in +complete silence. Although their ears were straining for the sound +coming down from the north, Frank could not be oblivious of the warm +flesh under his hand.</p> + +<p>Nora's breathing was soft against his cheek. She said, "Listen to how it +rises and falls. It's almost as though they were using it to talk with. +The inflection changes."</p> + +<p>"I think that's what it is. It's coming from a lot of different places. +It stops in some places and starts in others."</p> + +<p>"It's so—weird."</p> + +<p>"Spooky," Frank said, "but in a way it makes me feel better."</p> + +<p>"I don't see how it could." Nora pressed closer to him.</p> + +<p>"It does though, because of what I was afraid of. I had it figured out +that the city was going to blow up—that a bomb had been planted that +they couldn't find, or something like that. Now, I'm pretty sure it's +something else. I'm willing to bet we'll be alive in the morning."</p> + +<p>Nora thought that over in silence. "If that's the way it is—if some +kind of invaders are coming down from the north—isn't it stupid to stay +here? Even if we are tired we ought to be trying to get away from them."</p> + +<p>"I was thinking the same thing. I'll go and talk to Wilson."</p> + +<p>They crossed the room together and he left her by the bed and went on to +the door. Then he remembered he was in his shorts and went back and got +his trousers. After he'd put them on, he wondered why he'd bothered. He +opened the door.</p> + +<p>Something warned him—some instinct—or possibly his natural fear and +caution coincided with the presence of danger. He heard the footsteps on +the carpeting down the hall—soft, but unmistakably footsteps. He +called, "Wilson—Wilson—that you?"</p> + +<p>The creature outside threw caution to the winds, Frank sensed rather +than heard a body hurtling toward the door. A shrill, mad laughter raked +his ears and the weight of a body hit the door.</p> + +<p>Frank drew strength from pure panic as he threw his weight against the +panel, but perhaps an inch or two from the latch the door wavered from +opposing strength. Through the narrow opening he could feel the hoarse +breath of exertion in his face. Insane giggles and curses sounded +through the black stillness.</p> + +<p>Frank had the wild conviction he was losing the battle, and added +strength came from somewhere. He heaved and there was a scream and he +knew he had at least one finger caught between the door and the jamb. He +threw his weight against the door with frenzied effort and heard the +squash of the finger. The voice kited up to a shriek of agony, like that +of a wounded animal.</p> + +<p>Even with his life at stake, and the life of Nora, Frank could not +deliberately slice the man's fingers off. Even as he fought the urge, +and called himself a fool, he allowed the door to give slightly inward. +The hand was jerked to safety.</p> + +<p>At that moment another door opened close by and Jim Wilson's voice +boomed: "What the hell's going on out here?"</p> + +<p>Simultaneous with this, racing footsteps receded down the hall and from +the well of the stairway came a whining cry of pain.</p> + +<p>"Jumping jees!" Wilson bellowed. "We got company. We ain't alone!"</p> + +<p>"He tried to get into my room."</p> + +<p>"You shouldn't have opened the door. Nora okay?"</p> + +<p>"Yeah. She's all right."</p> + +<p>"Tell her to stay in her room. And you do the same. We'd be crazy to go +after that coot in the dark. He'll keep 'til morning."</p> + +<p>Frank closed the door, double-locked it and went back to Nora's bed. He +could hear a soft sobbing. He reached down and pulled back the covers +and the sobbing came louder. Then he was down on the bed and she was in +his arms.</p> + +<p>She cried until the panic subsided, while he held her and said nothing. +After a while she got control of herself. "Don't leave me, Frank," she +begged. "Please don't leave me."</p> + +<p>He stroked her shoulder. "I won't," he whispered.</p> + +<p>They lay for a long time in utter silence, each seeking strength in the +other's closeness. The silence was finally broken by Nora.</p> + +<p>"Frank?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Do you want me?"</p> + +<p>He did not answer.</p> + +<p>"If you want me you can have me, Frank."</p> + +<p>Frank said nothing.</p> + +<p>"I told you today that I tried to commit suicide. Remember?"</p> + +<p>"I remember."</p> + +<p>"That was the truth. I did it because I was tired of everything. Because +I've made a terrible mess of things. I didn't want to go on living."</p> + +<p>He remained silent, holding her.</p> + +<p>As she spoke again, her voice sharpened. "Can't you understand what I'm +telling you? I'm no good! I'm just a bum! Other men have had me! Why +shouldn't you? Why should you be cheated out of what other men have +had?"</p> + +<p>He remained silent. After a few moments, Nora said, "For God's sake, +talk! Say something!"</p> + +<p>"How do you feel about it now? Will you try again to kill yourself the +next chance you get?"</p> + +<p>"No—no, I don't think I'll ever try it again."</p> + +<p>"Then things must look better."</p> + +<p>"I don't know anything about that. I just don't want to do it now."</p> + +<p>She did not urge him this time and he was slow in speaking. "It's kind +of funny. It really is. Don't get the idea I've got morals. I haven't. +I've had my share of women. I was working on one the night they slipped +me the mickey—the night before I woke up to this tomb of a city. But +now—tonight—it's kind of different. I feel like I want to protect you. +Is that strange?"</p> + +<p>"No," she said quietly. "I guess not."</p> + +<p>They lay there silently, their thoughts going off into the blackness of +the sepulchral night. After a long while, Nora's even breathing told him +she was asleep. He got up quietly, covered her, and went to the other +bed.</p> + +<p>But before he slept, the weird wailings from out Evanston way came +again—rose and fell in that strange conversational cadence—then died +away into nothing.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Frank awoke to the first fingers of daylight. Nora still slept. He +dressed and stood for some moments with his hand on the door knob. Then +he threw the bolt and cautiously opened the door.</p> + +<p>The hallway was deserted. At this point it came to him forcibly that he +was not a brave man. All his life, he realized, he had avoided physical +danger and had refused to recognize the true reason for so doing. He had +classified himself as a man who dodged trouble through good sense; that +the truly civilized person went out of his way to keep the peace.</p> + +<p>He realized now that that attitude was merely salve for his ego. He +faced the empty corridor and did not wish to proceed further. But +stripped of the life-long alibi, he forced himself to walk through the +doorway, close the door softly, and move toward the stairs.</p> + +<p>He paused in front of the door behind which Jim Wilson and Minna were no +doubt sleeping. He stared at it wistfully. It certainly would not be a +mark of cowardice to get Jim Wilson up under circumstances such as +these. In fact, he would be a fool not to do so.</p> + +<p>Stubbornness forbade such a move, however. He walked softly toward the +place where the hallway dead-ended and became a cross-corridor. He made +the turn carefully, pressed against one wall. There was no one in sight. +He got to the stairway and started down.</p> + +<p>His muscles and nerves tightened with each step. When he reached the +lobby he was ready to jump sky-high at the drop of a pin.</p> + +<p>But no one dropped any pins, and he reached the modernistic glass +doorway to the drugstore with only silence screaming in his ears. The +door was unlocked. One hinge squeaked slightly as he pushed the door +inward.</p> + +<p>It was in the drugstore that Frank found signs of the fourth-floor +intruder. An inside counter near the prescription department was red +with blood. Bandages and first-aid supplies had been unboxed and thrown +around with abandon. Here the man had no doubt administered to his +smashed hand.</p> + +<p>But where had he gone? Asleep, probably, in one of the rooms upstairs. +Frank wished fervently for a weapon. Beyond doubt there was not a gun +left in the Loop.</p> + +<p>A gun was not the only weapon ever created, though, and Frank searched +the store and found a line of pocket knives still in neat boxes near the +perfume counter.</p> + +<p>He picked four of the largest and found, also, a wooden-handled, +lead-tipped bludgeon, used evidently for cracking ice.</p> + +<p>Thus armed, he went out through the revolving door. He walked through +streets that were like death under the climbing sun. Through streets and +canyons of dead buildings upon which the new daylight had failed to shed +life or diminish the terror of the night past.</p> + +<p>At Dearborn he found the door to the Tribune Public Service Building +locked. He used the ice breaker to smash a glass door panel. The crash +of the glass on the cement was an explosion in the screaming silence. He +went inside. Here the sense of desolation was complete; brought sharply +to focus, probably, by the pigeon holes filled with letters behind the +want-ad counter. Answers to a thousand and one queries, waiting +patiently for someone to come after them.</p> + +<p>Before going to the basement and the back files of the Chicago Tribune, +Frank climbed to the second floor and found what he thought might be +there—a row of teletype machines with a file-board hooked to the side +of each machine.</p> + +<div class="figleft"> +<img src="images/illus2.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<p>Swiftly, he stripped the copy sheets off each board, made a bundle of +them and went back downstairs. He covered the block back to the hotel at +a dog-trot, filled with a sudden urge to get back to the fourth floor as +soon as possible.</p> + +<p>He stopped in the drugstore and filled his pockets with soap, a razor, +shaving cream and face lotion. As an afterthought, he picked up a lavish +cosmetic kit that retailed, according to the price tag, for thirty-eight +dollars plus tax.</p> + +<p>He let himself back into the room and closed the door softly. Nora +rolled over, exposing a shoulder and one breast. The breast held his +gaze for a full minute. Then a feeling of guilt swept him and he went +into the bathroom and closed the door.</p> + +<p>Luckily, a supply tank on the roof still contained water and Frank was +able to shower and shave. Dressed again, he felt like a new man. But he +regretted not hunting up a haberdashery shop and getting himself a clean +shirt.</p> + +<p>Nora had still not awakened when he came out of the bathroom. He went to +the bed and stood looking down at her for some time. Then he touched her +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Wake up. It's morning."</p> + +<p>Nora stirred. Her eyes opened, but Frank got the impression she did not +really awaken for several seconds. Her eyes went to his face, to the +window, back to his face.</p> + +<p>"What time is it?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. I think it's around eight o'clock."</p> + +<p>Nora stretched both arms luxuriously. As she sat up, her slip fell back +into place and Frank got the impression she hadn't even been aware of +her partial nudity.</p> + +<p>She stared up at him, clarity dawning in her eyes, "You're all cleaned +up."</p> + +<p>"I went downstairs and got some things."</p> + +<p>"You went out—alone?"</p> + +<p>"Why not. We can't stay in here all day. We've got to hit the road and +get out of here. We've overshot our luck already."</p> + +<p>"But that—that man in the hall last night! You shouldn't have taken a +chance."</p> + +<p>"I didn't bump into him. I found the place he fixed his hand, down in +the drugstore."</p> + +<p>Frank went to the table and came back with the cosmetic set. He put it +in Nora's lap. "I brought this up for you."</p> + +<p>Surprise and true pleasure were mixed in her expression. "That was very +nice. I think I'd better get dressed."</p> + +<p>Frank turned toward the window where he had left the bundle of teletype +clips. "I've got a little reading to do."</p> + +<p>As he sat down, he saw, from the corner of his eye, a flash of slim +brown legs moving toward the bathroom. Just inside the door, Nora +turned. "Are Jim Wilson and Minna up yet?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think so."</p> + +<p>Nora's eyes remained on him. "I think you were very brave to go +downstairs alone. But it was a foolish thing to do. You should have +waited for Jim Wilson."</p> + +<p>"You're right about it being foolish. But I had to go."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Because I'm not brave at all. Maybe that was the reason."</p> + +<p>Nora left the bathroom door open about six inches and Frank heard the +sound of the shower. He sat with the papers in his hand wondering about +the water. When he had gone to the bathroom the thought had never +occurred to him. It was natural that it should. Now he wondered about +it. Why was it still running? After a while he considered the +possibility of the supply tank on the roof.</p> + +<p>Then he wondered about Nora. It was strange how he could think about her +personally and impersonally at the same time. He remembered her words of +the previous night. They made her—he shied from the term. What was the +old cliche? A woman of easy virtue.</p> + +<p>What made a woman of that type, he wondered. Was it something inherent +in their makeup? That partially opened door was symbolic somehow. He was +sure that many wives closed the bathroom door upon their husbands; did +it without thinking, instinctively. He was sure Nora had left it +partially open without thinking. Could a behavior pattern be traced from +such an insignificant thing?</p> + +<p>He wondered about his own attitude toward Nora. He had drawn away from +what she'd offered him during the night. And yet from no sense of +disgust. There was certainly far more about Nora to attract than to +repel.</p> + +<p>Morals, he realized dimly, were imposed—or at least functioned—for the +protection of society. With society gone—vanished overnight—did the +moral code still hold?</p> + +<p>If and when they got back among masses of people, would his feelings +toward Nora change? He thought not. He would marry her, he told himself +firmly, as quick as he'd marry any other girl. He would not hold what +she was against her. I guess I'm just fundamentally unmoral myself, he +thought, and began reading the news clips.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>There was a knock on the door accompanied by the booming voice of Jim +Wilson. "You in there! Ready for breakfast?"</p> + +<p>Frank got up and walked toward the door. As he did so, the door to the +bathroom closed.</p> + +<p>Jim Wilson wore a two-day growth of beard and it didn't seem to bother +him at all. As he entered the room he rubbed his hands together in great +gusto. "Well, where'll we eat, folks? Let's pick the classiest +restaurant in town. Nothing but the best for Minna here."</p> + +<p>He winked broadly as Minna, expressionless and silent, followed him in +exactly as a shadow would have followed him and sat primly down in a +straight-backed chair by the wall.</p> + +<p>"We'd better start moving south," Frank said, "and not bother about +breakfast."</p> + +<p>"Getting scared?" Jim Wilson asked.</p> + +<p>"You're damn right I'm scared—now. We're right in the middle of a big +no-man's-land."</p> + +<p>"I don't get you."</p> + +<p>At that moment the bathroom door opened and Nora came out. Jim Wilson +forgot about the question he'd asked. He let forth a loud whistle of +appreciation. Then he turned his eyes on Frank and his thought was +crystal clear. He was envying Frank the night just passed.</p> + +<p>A sudden irritation welled up in Frank Brooks, a distinct feeling of +disgust. "Let's start worrying about important things—our lives. Or +don't you consider your life very important?"</p> + +<p>Jim Wilson seemed puzzled. "What the hell's got into you? Didn't you +sleep good?"</p> + +<p>"I went down the block this morning and found some teletype machines. +I've just been reading the reports."</p> + +<p>"What about that guy that tried to get into your room last night?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't see him. I didn't see anybody. But I know why the city's been +cleaned out." Frank went back to the window and picked up the sheaf on +clips he had gone through. Jim Wilson sat down on the edge of the bed, +frowning. Nora followed Frank and perched on the edge of the chair he +dropped into.</p> + +<p>"The city going to blow up?" Wilson asked.</p> + +<p>"No. We've been invaded by some form of alien life."</p> + +<p>"Is that what the papers said?"</p> + +<p>"It was the biggest and fastest mass evacuation ever attempted. I pieced +the reports together. There was hell popping around here during the two +days we—we waited it out."</p> + +<p>"Where did they all go?" Nora asked.</p> + +<p>"South. They've evacuated a forty-mile strip from the lake west. The +first Terran defense line is set up in northern Indiana."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean—Terra."</p> + +<p>"It's a word that means Earth—this planet. The invaders came from some +other planet, they think—at least from no place on Earth."</p> + +<p>"That's the silliest damn thing I ever heard of," Wilson said.</p> + +<p>"A lot of people probably thought the same thing," Frank replied. +"Flying saucers were pretty common. Nobody thought they were anything +and nobody paid much attention. Then they hit—three days ago—and wiped +out every living soul in three little southern Michigan towns. From +there they began spreading out. They—"</p> + +<p>Each of them heard the sound at the same time. A faint rumble, +increasing swiftly into high thunder. They moved as one to the window +and saw four jet planes, in formation, moving across the sky from the +south.</p> + +<p>"There they come," Frank said. "The fight's started. Up to now the army +has been trying to get set, I suppose."</p> + +<p>Nora said, "Is there any way we can hail them? Let them know—"</p> + +<p>Her words were cut off by the horror of what happened. As they watched, +the plane skimmed low across the Loop. At a point, approximately over +Lake Street, Frank estimated, the planes were annihilated. There was a +flash of blue fire coming in like jagged lightning to form four balls of +fire around the planes. The fire balls turned, almost instantly, into +globes of white smoke that drifted lazily away.</p> + +<p>And that was all. But the planes vanished completely.</p> + +<p>"What happened?" Wilson muttered. "Where'd they go?"</p> + +<p>"It was as if they hit a wall," Nora said, her voice hushed with awe.</p> + +<p>"I think that <i>was</i> what happened," Frank said. "The invaders have some +kind of a weapon that holds us helpless. Otherwise the army wouldn't +have established this no-man's-land and pulled out. The reports said we +have them surrounded on all sides with the help of the lake. We're +trying to keep them isolated."</p> + +<p>Jim Wilson snorted. "It looks like we've got them right where they want +us."</p> + +<p>"Anyhow, we're damn fools to stick around here. We'd better head south."</p> + +<p>Wilson looked wistfully about the room. "I guess so, but it's a +shame—walking away from all this."</p> + +<p>Nora was staring out the window, a small frown on her face. "I wonder +who they are and where they came from?"</p> + +<p>"The teletype releases were pretty vague on that."</p> + +<p>She turned quickly. "There's something peculiar about them. Something +really strange."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Last night when we were walking up the street. It must have been these +invaders we heard. They must have been across the street. But they +didn't act like invaders. They seemed—well, scared. I got the feeling +they ran from us in panic. And they haven't been back."</p> + +<p>Wilson said, "They may not have been there at all. Probably our +imaginations."</p> + +<p>"I don't think so," Frank cut in. "They were there and then they were +gone. I'm sure of it."</p> + +<p>"Those wailing noises. They were certainly signalling to each other. Do +you suppose that's the only language they have?" Nora walked over and +offered the silent Minna a cigarette. Minna refused with a shake of her +head.</p> + +<p>"I wish we knew what they looked like," Frank said. "But let's not sit +here talking. Let's get going."</p> + +<p>Jim Wilson was scowling. There was a marked sullenness in his manner. +"Not Minna and me. I've changed my mind. I'm sticking here."</p> + +<p>Frank blinked in surprise. "Are you crazy? We've run our luck out +already. Did you see what happened to those planes?"</p> + +<p>"The hell with the planes. We've got it good here. This I like. I like +it a lot. We'll stay."</p> + +<p>"Okay," Frank replied hotly, "but talk for yourself. You're not making +Minna stay!"</p> + +<p>Wilson's eyes narrowed. "I'm not? Look, buster—how about minding your +own goddam business?"</p> + +<p>The vague feelings of disgust Frank had had now crystallized into words. +"I won't let you get away with it! You think I'm blind? Hauling her into +the back room every ten minutes! Don't you think I know why? You're +nothing but a damn sex maniac! You've got her terrorized until she's +afraid to open her mouth. She goes with us!"</p> + +<p>Jim Wilson was on his feet. His face blazed with rage. The urge to kill +was written in the crouch of his body and the twist of his mouth. "You +goddam nosey little squirt. I'll—"</p> + +<p>Wilson charged across the short, intervening distance. His arms went out +in a clutching motion.</p> + +<p>But Frank Brooks wasn't full of knockout drops this time, and with a +clear head he was no pushover. Blinded with rage, Jim Wilson <i>was</i> a +pushover. Frank stepped in between his outstretched arms and slugged him +squarely on top of the head with the telephone. Wilson went down like a +felled steer.</p> + +<p>The scream came from Minna as she sprang across the room. She had turned +from a colorless rag doll into a tigress. She hit Frank square in the +belly with small fists at the end of stiff, outstretched arms. The full +force of her charge was behind the fists, and Frank went backward over +the bed.</p> + +<p>Minna did not follow up her attack. She dropped to the floor beside Jim +Wilson and took his huge head in her lap. "You killed him," she sobbed. +"You—you murderer! You killed him! You had no right!"</p> + +<p>Frank sat wide-eyed. "Minna! For God's sake! I was helping you. I did it +for you!"</p> + +<p>"Why don't you mind your business? I didn't ask you to protect me? I +don't need any protection—not from Jim."</p> + +<p>"You mean you didn't mind the way he's treated you—"</p> + +<p>"You've killed him—killed him—" Minna raised her head slowly. She +looked at Frank as though she saw him for the first time. "You're a +fool" she said dully. "A big fool. What right have you got to meddle +with other people's affairs? Are you God or something, to run people's +lives?"</p> + +<p>"Minna—I—"</p> + +<p>It was as though he hadn't spoken. "Do you know what it's like to have +nobody? All your life to go on and grow older without anybody? I didn't +have no one and then Jim came along and wanted me."</p> + +<p>Frank walked close to her and bent down. She reacted like a tiger. +"Leave him alone! Leave him alone! You've done enough!"</p> + +<p>Nonplused, Frank backed away.</p> + +<p>"People with big noses—always sticking them in. That's you. Was that +any of your business what he wanted of me? Did I complain?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, Minna. I didn't know."</p> + +<p>"I'd rather go into back rooms with him than stay in front rooms without +nobody."</p> + +<p>She began to cry now. Wordlessly—soundlessly, rocking back and forth +with the huge man's bloody head in her lap. "Anytime," she crooned. +"Anytime I would—"</p> + +<p>The body in her arms stirred. She looked down through her tears and saw +the small black eyes open. They were slightly crossed, unfocused as they +were by the force of the blow. They straightened and Jim mumbled, "What +the hell—what the hell—"</p> + +<p>Minna's time for talking seemed over. She smiled—a smile hardly +perceptible, as though it was for herself alone. "You're all right," she +said. "That's good. You're all right."</p> + +<p>Jim pushed her roughly away and staggered to his feet. He stood swaying +for a moment, his head turning; for all the world like a bull blinded +and tormented. Then his eyes focused on Frank.</p> + +<p>"You hit me with the goddam phone."</p> + +<p>"Yeah—I hit you."</p> + +<p>"I'm gonna kill you."</p> + +<p>"Look—I made a mistake." Frank picked up the phone and backed against +the wall. "I hit you, but you were coming at me. I made a mistake and +I'm sorry."</p> + +<p>"I'll smash your goddam skull."</p> + +<p>"Maybe you will," Frank said grimly. "But you'll work for it. It won't +come easy."</p> + +<p>A new voice bit across the room. "Cut it out. I'll do the killing. +That's what I like best. Everybody quiet down."</p> + +<p>They turned and saw a slim, pale-skinned young man in the open doorway. +The door had opened quietly and no one had heard it. Now the pale young +man was standing in the room with a small, nickle-plated revolver in his +right hand.</p> + +<p>The left hand was close down at his side. It was swathed generously in +white bandage.</p> + +<p>The young man chuckled. "The last four people in the world were in a +room," he said, "and there was a knock on the door."</p> + +<p>His chuckle deepened to one of pure merriment. "Only there wasn't a +knock. A man just walked in with a gun that made him boss."</p> + +<p>No one moved. No one spoke. The man waited, then went on: "My name is +Leroy Davis. I lived out west and I always had a keeper because they +said I wasn't quite right. They wanted me to pull out with the rest of +them, but I slugged my keeper and here I am."</p> + +<p>"Put down the gun and we'll talk it over," Frank said. "We're all in +this together."</p> + +<p>"No, we aren't. I've got a gun, so that makes me top man. You're all in +it together, but I'm not. I'm the boss, and which one of you tried to +cut my hand off last night."</p> + +<p>"You tried to break in here yelling and screaming like a madman. I held +the door. What else could I do?"</p> + +<p>"It's all right. I'm not mad. My type—we may be nuts, but we never hold +a grudge. I can't remember much about last night. I found some whisky in +a place down the street and whisky drives me nuts. I don't know what I'm +doing when I drink whisky. They say once about five years ago I got +drunk and killed a little kid, but I don't remember."</p> + +<p>Nobody spoke.</p> + +<p>"I got out of it. They got me out some way. High priced lawyers got me +out. Cost my dad a pile."</p> + +<p>Hysteria had been piling up inside of Nora. She had held it back, but +now a little of it spurted out from between her set teeth. "Do +something, somebody. <i>Isn't anybody going to do anything?</i>"</p> + +<p>Leroy Davis blinked at her. "There's nothing they can do, honey," he +said in a kindly voice. "I've got the gun. They'd be crazy to try +anything."</p> + +<p>Nora's laugh was like the rattle of dry peas. She sat down on the bed +and looked up at the ceiling and laughed. "It's crazy. It's all so +crazy! We're sitting here in a doomed city with some kind of alien +invaders all around us and we don't know what they look like. They +haven't hurt us at all. We don't even know what they look like. We don't +worry a bit about them because we're too busy trying to kill each +other."</p> + +<p>Frank Brooks took Nora by the arm. "Stop it! Quit laughing like that!"</p> + +<p>Nora shook him off. "Maybe we need someone to take us over. It's all +pretty crazy!"</p> + +<p>"Stop it."</p> + +<p>Nora's eyes dulled down as she looked at Frank. She dropped her head and +seemed a little ashamed of herself. "I'm sorry. I'll be quiet."</p> + +<p>Jim Wilson had been standing by the wall looking first at the newcomer, +then back at Frank Brooks. Wilson seemed confused as to who his true +enemy really was. Finally he took a step toward Leroy Davis.</p> + +<p>Frank Brooks stopped him with a motion, but kept his eyes on Davis. +"Have you seen anybody else?"</p> + +<p>Davis regarded Frank with long, careful consideration. His eyes were +bright and birdlike. They reminded Frank of a squirrel's eyes. Davis +said, "I bumped into an old man out on Halstead Street. He wanted to +know where everybody had gone. He asked me, but I didn't know."</p> + +<p>"What happened to the old man?" Nora asked. She asked the question as +though dreading to do it; but as though some compulsion forced her to +speak.</p> + +<p>"I shot him," Davis said cheerfully. "It was a favor, really. Here was +this old man staggering down the street with nothing but a lot of wasted +years to show for his efforts. He was no good alive, and he didn't have +the courage to die." Davis stopped and cocked his head brightly. "You +know—I think that's what's been wrong with the world. Too many people +without the guts to die, and a law against killing them."</p> + +<p>It had now dawned upon Jim Wilson that they were faced by a maniac. His +eyes met those of Frank Brooks and they were—on this point at least—in +complete agreement. A working procedure sprang up, unworded, between +them. Jim Wilson took a slow, casual step toward the homicidal maniac.</p> + +<p>"You didn't see anyone else?" Frank asked.</p> + +<p>Davis ignored the question. "Look at it this way," he said. "In the old +days they had Texas long horns. Thin stringy cattle that gave up meat as +tough as leather. Do we have cattle like that today? No. Because we bred +out the weak line."</p> + +<p>Frank said, "There are some cigarettes on that table if you want one."</p> + +<p>Jim Wilson took another slow step toward Davis.</p> + +<p>Davis said, "We bred with intelligence, with a thought to what a steer +was for and we produced a walking chunk of meat as wide as it is long."</p> + +<p>"Uh-huh," Frank said.</p> + +<p>"Get the point? See what I'm driving at? Humans are more important than +cattle, but can we make them breed intelligently? Oh, no! That +interferes with damn silly human liberties. You can't tell a man he can +only have two kids. It's his God-given right to have twelve when the +damn moron can't support three. Get what I mean?"</p> + +<p>"Sure—sure, I get it."</p> + +<p>"You better think it over, mister—and tell that fat bastard to quit +sneaking up on me or I'll blow his brains all over the carpet!"</p> + +<p>If the situation hadn't been so grim it would have appeared ludicrous. +Jim Wilson, feeling success almost in his grasp, was balanced on tiptoe +for a lunge. He teetered, almost lost his balance and fell back against +the wall.</p> + +<p>"Take it easy," Frank said.</p> + +<p>"I'll take it easy," Davis replied. "I'll kill every goddam one of +you—" he pointed the gun at Jim Wilson "—starting with him."</p> + +<p>"Now wait a minute," Frank said. "You're unreasonable. What right have +you got to do that? What about the law of survival? You're standing +there with a gun on us. You're going to kill us. Isn't it natural to try +anything we can to save our own lives?"</p> + +<p>A look of admiration brightened Davis' eyes. "Say! I like you. You're +all right. You're logical. A man can talk to you. If there's anything I +like it's talking to a logical man."</p> + +<p>"Thanks."</p> + +<p>"Too bad I'm going to have to kill you. We could sit down and have some +nice long talks together."</p> + +<p>"Why do you want to kill us?" Minna asked. She had not spoken before. In +fact, she had spoken so seldom during the entire time they'd been +together that her voice was a novelty to Frank. He was inclined to +discount her tirade on the floor with Wilson's head in her lap. She had +been a different person then. Now she had lapsed back into her old +shell.</p> + +<p>Davis regarded thoughtfully. "Must you have a reason?"</p> + +<p>"You should have a reason to kill people."</p> + +<p>Davis said, "All right, if it will make you any happier. I told you +about killing my keeper when they tried to make me leave town. He got in +the car, behind the wheel. I got into the back seat and split his skull +with a tire iron."</p> + +<p>"What's that got to do with us?"</p> + +<p>"Just this. Tommy was a better person than anyone of you or all of you +put together. If he had to die, what right have you got to live? Is that +enough of a reason for you?"</p> + +<p>"This is all too damn crazy," Jim Wilson roared. He was on the point of +leaping at Davis and his gun.</p> + +<p>At that moment, from the north, came a sudden crescendo of the weird +invader wailings. It was louder than it had previously been but did not +seem nearer.</p> + +<p>The group froze, all ears trained upon the sound. "They're talking +again," Nora whispered.</p> + +<p>"Uh-huh," Frank replied. "But it's different this time. As if—"</p> + +<p>"—as if they were getting ready for something," Nora said. "Do you +suppose they're going to move south?"</p> + +<p>Davis said, "I'm not going to kill you here. We're going down stairs."</p> + +<p>The pivotal moment, hinged in Jim Wilson's mind, that could have changed +the situation, had come and gone. The fine edge of additional madness +that would make a man hurl himself at a loaded gun, was dulled. Leroy +Davis motioned pre-emptorily toward Minna.</p> + +<p>"You first—then the other babe. You walk side by side down the hall +with the men behind you. Straight down to the lobby."</p> + +<p>They complied without resistance. There was only Jim Wilson's scowl, +Frank Brooks' clouded eyes, and the white, taut look of Nora.</p> + +<p>Nora's mind was not on the gun. It was filled with thoughts of the pale +maniac who held it. He was in command. Instinctively, she felt that +maniacs in command have one of but two motivations—sex and murder. Her +reaction to possible murder was secondary. But what if this man insisted +upon laying his hands upon her. What if he forced her into the age old +thing she had done so often? Nora shuddered. But it was also in her mind +to question, and be surprised at the reason for her revulsion. She +visualized the hands upon her body—the old familiar things, and the +taste in her mouth was one of horror.</p> + +<p>She had never experienced such shrinkings before. Why now. Had she +herself changed? Had something happened during the night that made the +past a time of shame? Or was it the madman himself? She did not know.</p> + +<p>Nora returned from her musings to find herself standing in the empty +lobby. Leroy Davis, speaking to Frank, was saying, "You look kind of +tricky to me. Put your hands on your head. Lock your fingers together +over your head and keep your hands there."</p> + +<p>Jim Wilson was standing close to the mute Minna. She had followed all +the orders without any show of anger, with no outward expression. Always +she had kept her eyes on Jim Wilson. Obviously, whatever Jim ordered, +she would have done without question.</p> + +<p>Wilson leaned his head down toward her. He said, "Listen, baby, there's +something I keep meaning to ask but I always forget it. What's your last +name?"</p> + +<p>"Trumble—Minna Trumble. I thought I told you."</p> + +<p>"Maybe you did. Maybe I didn't get it."</p> + +<p>Nora felt the hysteria welling again. "How long are you going to keep +doing this?" she asked.</p> + +<p>Leroy Davis cocked his head as he looked at her. "Doing what?"</p> + +<p>"Play cat and mouse like this. Holding us on a pin like flies in an +exhibit."</p> + +<p>Leroy Davis smiled brightly. "Like a butterfly in your case, honey. A +big, beautiful butterfly."</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do," Frank Brooks snapped. "Whatever it is, let's +get it over with?"</p> + +<p>"Can't you see what I'm doing?" Davis asked with genuine wonder. "Are +you that stupid? I'm being the boss. I'm in command and I like it. I +hold life and death over four people and I'm savoring the thrill of it. +You're pretty stupid, mister, and if you use that 'can't get away with +it' line, I'll put a bullet into your left ear and watch it come out +your right one."</p> + +<p>Jim Wilson's fists were doubled. He was again approaching the reckless +point. And again it was dulled by the gradually increasing sound of a +motor—not in the air, but from the street level to the south.</p> + +<p>It was a sane, cheerful sound and was resented instantly by the insane +mind of Leroy Davis.</p> + +<p>He tightened even to the point that his face grew more pale from the +tension. He backed to a window, looked out quickly, and turned back. +"It's a jeep," he said. "They're going by the hotel. If anybody makes a +move, or yells, they'll find four bodies in here and me gone. That's +what I'm telling you and you know I'll do it."</p> + +<p>They knew he <i>would</i> do it and they stood silent, trying to dredge up +the nerve to make a move. The jeep's motor backfired a couple of times +as it approached Madison Street. Each time, Leroy Davis' nerves reacted +sharply and the four people kept their eyes trained on the gun in his +hand.</p> + +<p>The jeep came to the intersection and slowed down. There was a +conference between its two occupants—helmeted soldiers in dark brown +battle dress. Then the jeep moved on up Clark Street toward Lake.</p> + +<p>A choked sigh escaped from Nora's throat. Frank Brooks turned toward +her. "Take it easy," he said. "We're not dead yet. I don't think he +wants to kill us."</p> + +<p>The reply came from Minna. She spoke quietly. "I don't care. I can't +stand any more of this. After all, we aren't animals. We're human beings +and we have a right to live and die as we please."</p> + +<p>Minna walked toward Leroy Davis. "I'm not afraid of your gun any more. +All you can do with it is kill me. Go ahead and do it."</p> + +<p>Minna walked up to Leroy Davis. He gaped at her and said, "You're crazy! +Get back there. You're a crazy dame!"</p> + +<p>He fired the gun twice and Minna died appreciating the incongruity of +his words. She went out on a note of laughter and as she fell, Jim +Wilson, with an echoing animal roar, lunged at Leroy Davis. His great +hand closed completely over that of Davis, hiding the gun. There was a +muffled explosion and the bullet cut unnoticed through Wilson's palm. +Wilson jerked the gun from Davis' weak grasp and hurled it away. Then he +killed Davis.</p> + +<p>He did it slowly, a surprising thing for Wilson. He lifted Davis by his +neck and held him with his feet off the floor. He squeezed Davis' neck, +seeming to do it with great leisure as Davis made horrible noises and +kicked his legs.</p> + +<p>Nora turned her eyes away, buried them in Frank Brooks' shoulder, but +she could not keep the sounds from reaching her ears. Frank held her +close. "Take it easy," he said. "Take it easy." And he was probably not +conscious of saying it.</p> + +<p>"Tell him to hurry," Nora whispered. "Tell him to get it over with. It's +like killing—killing an animal."</p> + +<p>"That's what he is—an animal."</p> + +<p>Frank Brooks stared in fascination at Leroy Davis' distorted, darkening +face. It was beyond semblance of anything human now. The eyes bulged and +the tongue came from his mouth as though frantically seeking relief.</p> + +<p>The animal sounds quieted and died away. Nora heard the sound of the +body falling to the floor—a limp, soft sound of finality. She turned +and saw Jim Wilson with his hands still extended and cupped. The +terrible hands from which the stench of a terrible life was drifting +away into empty air.</p> + +<p>Wilson looked down at his handiwork. "He's dead," Wilson said slowly. He +turned to face Frank and Nora. There was a great disappointment in his +face. "That's all there is to it," he said, dully. "He's just—dead." +Without knowing it for what it was, Jim Wilson was full of the futile +aftertaste of revenge.</p> + +<p>He bent down to pick up Minna's body. There was a small blue hole in the +right cheek and another one over the left eye. With a glance at Frank +and Nora, Jim Wilson covered the wounds with his hand as though they +were not decent. He picked her up in his arms and walked across the +lobby and up the stairs with the slow, quiet tread of a weary man.</p> + +<p>The sound of the jeep welled up again, but it was further away now. +Frank Brooks took Nora's hand and they hurried out into the street. As +they crossed the sidewalk, the sound of the jeep was drowned by a sudden +swelling of the wailings to the northward.</p> + +<p>On still a new note, they rose and fell on the still air. A note of +panic, of new knowledge, it seemed, but Frank and Nora were not paying +close attention. The sounds of the jeep motor had come from the west and +they got within sight of the Madison-Well intersection in time to see +the jeep hurtle southward at its maximum speed.</p> + +<p>Frank yelled and waved his arms, but he knew he had been neither seen +nor heard. They were given little time for disappointment however, +because a new center of interest appeared to the northward. From around +the corner of Washington Street, into Clark, moved three strange +figures.</p> + +<p>There was a mixture of belligerence and distress in their actions. They +carried odd looking weapons and seemed interested in using them upon +something or someone, but they apparently lacked the energy to raise +them although they appeared to be rather light.</p> + +<p>The creatures themselves were humanoid, Frank thought. He tightened his +grip on Nora's hand. "They've seen us."</p> + +<p>"Let's not run," Nora said. "I'm tired of running. All it's gotten us is +trouble. Let's just stand here."</p> + +<p>"Don't be foolish."</p> + +<p>"I'm not running. You can if you want to."</p> + +<p>Frank turned his attention back to the three strange creatures. He +allowed natural curiosity full reign. Thoughts of flight vanished from +his mind.</p> + +<p>"They're so thin—so fragile," Nora said.</p> + +<p>"But their weapons aren't."</p> + +<p>"It's hard to believe, even seeing them, that they're from another +planet."</p> + +<p>"How so? They certainly don't look much like us."</p> + +<p>"I mean with the talk, for so long, about flying saucers and space +flight and things like that. Here they are, but it doesn't seem +possible."</p> + +<p>"There's something wrong with them."</p> + +<p>This was true. Two of the strange beings had fallen to the sidewalk. The +third came doggedly on, dragging one foot after the other until he went +to his hands and knees. He remained motionless for a long time, his head +hanging limply. Then he too, sank to the cement and lay still.</p> + +<p>The wailings from the north now took on a tone of intense agony—great +desperation. After that came a yawning silence.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"They defeated themselves," the military man said. "Or rather, natural +forces defeated them. We certainly had little to do with it."</p> + +<p>Nora, Frank, and Jim Wilson stood at the curb beside a motorcycle. The +man on the cycle supported it with a leg propped against the curb as he +talked.</p> + +<p>"We saw three of them die up the street," Frank said.</p> + +<p>"Our scouting party saw the same thing happen. That's why we moved in. +It's about over now. We'll know a lot more about them and where they +came from in twenty-four hours."</p> + +<p>They had nothing further to say. The military man regarded them +thoughtfully. "I don't know about you three. If you ignored the +evacuation through no fault of your own and can prove it—"</p> + +<p>"There were four of us," Jim Wilson said. "Then we met another man. He's +inside on the floor. I killed him."</p> + +<p>"Murder?" the military man said sharply.</p> + +<p>"He killed a woman who was with us," Frank said. "He was a maniac. When +he's identified I'm pretty sure he'll have a past record."</p> + +<p>"Where is the woman's body?"</p> + +<p>"On a bed upstairs," Wilson said.</p> + +<p>"I'll have to hold all of you. Martial law exists in this area. You're +in the hands of the army."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The streets were full of people now, going about their business, pushing +and jostling, eating in the restaurants, making electricity for the +lights, generating power for the telephones.</p> + +<p>Nora, Frank, and Jim Wilson sat in a restaurant on Clark Street. "We're +all different people now," Nora said. "No one could go through what +we've been through and be the same."</p> + +<p>Jim Wilson took her statement listlessly. "Did they find out what it was +about our atmosphere that killed them?"</p> + +<p>"They're still working on that, I think." Frank Brooks stirred his +coffee, raised a spoonful and let it drip back into the cup.</p> + +<p>"I'm going up to the Chicago Avenue police station," Wilson said.</p> + +<p>Frank and Nora looked up in surprise. Frank asked, "Why? The military +court missed it—the fact you escaped from jail."</p> + +<p>"They didn't miss it I don't think. I don't think they cared much. I'm +going back anyway."</p> + +<p>"It won't be much of a rap."</p> + +<p>"No, a pretty small one. I want to get it over with."</p> + +<p>He got up from his chair. "So long. Maybe I'll see you around."</p> + +<p>"So long."</p> + +<p>"Goodbye."</p> + +<p>Frank said, "I think I'll beat it too. I've got a job in a factory up +north. Maybe they're operating again." He got to his feet and stood +awkwardly by the table. "Besides—I've got some pay coming."</p> + +<p>Nora didn't say anything.</p> + +<p>Frank said, "Well—so long. Maybe I'll see you around."</p> + +<p>"Maybe. Goodbye."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Frank Brooks walked north on Clark Street. He was glad to get away from +the restaurant. Nora was a good kid but hell—you didn't take up with a +hooker. A guy played around, but you didn't stick with them.</p> + +<p>But it made a guy think. He was past the kid stage. It was time for him +to find a girl and settle down. A guy didn't want to knock around all +his life.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Nora walked west on Madison Street. Then she remembered the Halstead +Street slums were in that direction and turned south on Wells. She had +nine dollars in her bag and that worried her. You couldn't get along on +nine dollars in Chicago very long.</p> + +<p>There was a tavern on Jackson near Wells. Nora went inside. The barkeep +didn't frown at her. That was good. She went to the bar and ordered a +beer and was served.</p> + +<p>After a while a man came in. A middle aged man who might have just come +into Chicago—whose bags might still be at the LaSalle Street Station +down the block. The man looked at Nora, then away. After a while looked +at her again.</p> + +<p>Nora smiled.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Deadly City, by Paul W. 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Fairman + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Deadly City + +Author: Paul W. Fairman + +Illustrator: Ed Emsh + +Release Date: June 5, 2010 [EBook #32705] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DEADLY CITY *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + DEADLY CITY + + By Ivar Jorgenson + + Illustrated by Ed Emsh + +[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from IF Worlds of Science +Fiction March 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that +the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] + + +[Sidenote: _You're all alone in a deserted city. You walk down an empty +street, yearning for the sight of one living face--one moving figure. +Then you see a man on a corner and you know your terror has only +begun._] + + +He awoke slowly, like a man plodding knee-deep through the thick stuff +of nightmares. There was no definite line between the dream-state and +wakefulness. Only a dawning knowledge that he was finally conscious and +would have to do something about it. + +He opened his eyes, but this made no difference. The blackness remained. +The pain in his head brightened and he reached up and found the big lump +they'd evidently put on his head for good measure--a margin of safety. + +They must have been prudent people, because the bang on the head had +hardly been necessary. The spiked drink which they had given him would +have felled an ox. He remembered going down into the darkness after +drinking it, and of knowing what it was. He remembered the helpless +feeling. + +It did not worry him now. He was a philosophical person, and the fact he +was still alive cancelled out the drink and its result. He thought, with +savor, of the chestnut-haired girl who had watched him take the drink. +She had worn a very low bodice, and that was where his eyes had been at +the last moment--on the beautiful, tanned breasts--until they'd wavered +and puddled into a blur and then into nothing. + +The chestnut-haired girl had been nice, but now she was gone and there +were more pressing problems. + +He sat up, his hands behind him at the ends of stiff arms clawing into +long-undisturbed dust and filth. His movement stirred the dust and it +rose into his nostrils. + +He straightened and banged his head against a low ceiling. The pain made +him sick for a minute and he sat down to regain his senses. He cursed +the ceiling, as a matter of course, in an agonized whisper. + +Ready to move again, he got onto his hands and knees and crawled +cautiously forward, exploring as he went. His hand pushed through +cobwebs and found a rough, cement wall. He went around and around. It +was all cement--all solid. + +Hell! They hadn't sealed him up in this place! There had been a way in +so there had to be a way out. He went around again. + +Then he tried the ceiling and found the opening--a wooden trap covering +a four-by-four hole--covering it snugly. He pushed the trap away and +daylight streamed in. He raised himself up until he was eye-level with a +discarded shaving cream jar lying on the bricks of an alley. He could +read the trade mark on the jar, and the slogan: "For the Meticulous +Man". + +He pulled himself up into the alley. As a result of an orderly +childhood, he replaced the wooden trap and kicked the shaving cream jar +against a garbage can. He rubbed his chin and looked up and down the +alley. + +It was high noon. An uncovered sun blazed down to tell him this. + +And there was no one in sight. + + * * * * * + +He started walking toward the nearer mouth of the alley. He had been in +that hole a long time, he decided. This conviction came from his hunger +and the heavy growth of beard he'd sprouted. Twenty-four hours--maybe +longer. That mickey must have been a lulu. + +He walked out into the cross street. It was empty. No people--no cars +parked at the curbs--only a cat washing its dirty face on a tenement +stoop across the street. He looked up at the tenement windows. They +stared back. There was an empty, deserted look about them. + +The cat flowed down the front steps of the tenement and away toward the +rear and he was truly alone. He rubbed his harsh chin. Must be Sunday, +he thought. Then he knew it could not be Sunday. He'd gone into the +tavern on a Tuesday night. That would make it five days. Too long. + +He had been walking and now he was at an intersection where he could +look up and down a new street. There were no cars--no people. Not even a +cat. + +A sign overhanging the sidewalk said: Restaurant. He went in under the +sign and tried the door. It was locked. There were no lights inside. He +turned away--grinning to reassure himself. Everything was all right. +Just some kind of a holiday. In a big city like Chicago the people go +away on hot summer holidays. They go to the beaches and the parks and +sometimes you can't see a living soul on the streets. And of course you +can't find any cars because the people use them to drive to the beaches +and the parks and out into the country. He breathed a little easier and +started walking again. + +Sure--that was it. Now what the hell holiday was it? He tried to +remember. He couldn't think of what holiday it could be. Maybe they'd +dreamed up a new one. He grinned at that, but the grin was a little +tight and he had to force it. He forced it carefully until his teeth +showed white. + +Pretty soon he would come to a section where everybody hadn't gone to +the beaches and the parks and a restaurant would be open and he'd get a +good meal. + +A meal? He fumbled toward his pockets. He dug into them and found a +handkerchief and a button from his cuff. He remembered that the button +had hung loose so he'd pulled it off to keep from losing it. He hadn't +lost the button, but everything else was gone. He scowled. The least +they could have done was to leave a man eating money. + +He turned another corner--into another street--and it was like the one +before. No cars--no people--not even any cats. + +Panic welled up. He stopped and whirled around to look behind him. No +one was there. He walked in a tight circle, looking in all directions. +Windows stared back at him--eyes that didn't care where everybody had +gone or when they would come back. The windows could wait. The windows +were not hungry. Their heads didn't ache. They weren't scared. + +He began walking and his path veered outward from the sidewalk until he +was in the exact center of the silent street. He walked down the worn +white line. When he got to the next corner he noticed that the traffic +signals were not working. Black, empty eyes. + +His pace quickened. He walked faster--ever faster until he was trotting +on the brittle pavement, his sharp steps echoing against the buildings. +Faster. Another corner. And he was running, filled with panic, down the +empty street. + + * * * * * + +The girl opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. The ceiling was a +blur but it began to clear as her mind cleared. The ceiling became a +surface of dirty, cracked plaster and there was a feeling of dirt and +squalor in her mind. + +It was always like that at these times of awakening, but doubly bitter +now, because she had never expected to awaken again. She reached down +and pulled the wadded sheet from beneath her legs and spread it over +them. She looked at the bottle on the shabby bed-table. There were three +sleeping pills left in it. The girl's eyes clouded with resentment. +You'd think seven pills would have done it. She reached down and took +the sheet in both hands and drew it taut over her stomach. This was a +gesture of frustration. Seven hadn't been enough, and here she was +again--awake in the world she'd wanted to leave. Awake with the +necessary edge of determination gone. + +She pulled the sheet into a wad and threw it at the wall. She got up and +walked to the window and looked out. Bright daylight. She wondered how +long she had slept. A long time, no doubt. + +Her naked thigh pressed against the windowsill and her bare stomach +touched the dirty pane. Naked in the window, but it didn't matter, +because it gave onto an airshaft and other windows so caked with grime +as to be of no value as windows. + +But even aside from that, it didn't matter. It didn't matter in the +least. + +She went to the washstand, her bare feet making no sound on the worn +rug. She turned on the faucets, but no water came. No water, and she had +a terrible thirst. She went to the door and had thrown the bolt before +she remembered again that she was naked. She turned back and saw the +half-empty Pepsi-Cola bottle on the floor beside the bed table. Someone +else had left it there--how many nights ago?--but she drank it anyhow, +and even though it was flat and warm it soothed her throat. + +She bent over to pick up garments from the floor and dizziness came, +forcing her to the edge of the bed. After a while it passed and she got +her legs into one of the garments and pulled it on. + +Taking cosmetics from her bag, she went again to the washstand and tried +the taps. Still no water. She combed her hair, jerking the comb through +the mats and gnarls with a satisfying viciousness. When the hair fell +into its natural, blond curls, she applied powder and lip-stick. She +went back to the bed, picked up her brassiere and began putting it on as +she walked to the cracked, full-length mirror in the closet door. With +the brassiere in place, she stood looking at her slim image. She assayed +herself with complete impersonality. + +She shouldn't look as good as she did--not after the beating she'd +taken. Not after the long nights and the days and the years, even though +the years did not add up to very many. + +I could be someone's wife, she thought, with wry humor. I could be +sending kids to school and going out to argue with the grocer about the +tomatoes being too soft. I don't look bad at all. + +She raised her eyes until they were staring into their own images in the +glass and she spoke aloud in a low, wondering voice. She said, "Who the +hell am I, anyway? Who am I? A body named Linda--that's who I am. +No--that's _what_ I am. A body's not a _who_--it's a _what_. One hundred +and fourteen pounds of well-built blond body called Linda--model +1931--no fender dents--nice paint job. Come in and drive me away. Price +tag--" + +She bit into the lower lip she'd just finished reddening and turned +quickly to walk to the bed and wriggle into her dress--a gray and green +cotton--the only one she had. She picked up her bag and went to the +door. There she stopped to turn and thumb her nose at the three sleeping +pills in the bottle before she went out and closed the door after +herself. + +The desk clerk was away from the cubbyhole from which he presided over +the lobby, and there were no loungers to undress her as she walked +toward the door. + +Nor was there anyone out in the street. The girl looked north and south. +No cars in sight either. No buses waddling up to the curb to spew out +passengers. + +The girl went five doors north and tried to enter a place called Tim's +Hamburger House. As the lock held and the door refused to open, she saw +that there were no lights on inside--no one behind the counter. The +place was closed. + +She walked on down the street followed only by the lonesome sound of her +own clicking heels. All the stores were closed. All the lights were out. + +_All the people were gone._ + + * * * * * + +He was a huge man, and the place of concealment of the Chicago Avenue +police station was very small--merely an indentation low in the cement +wall behind two steam pipes. The big man had lain in this niche for +forty-eight hours. He had slugged a man over the turn of a card in a +poolroom pinochle game, had been arrested in due course, and was +awaiting the disposal of his case. + +He was sorry he had slugged the man. He had not had any deep hatred for +him, but rather a rage of the moment that demanded violence as its +outlet. Although he did not consider it a matter of any great +importance, he did not look forward to the six month's jail sentence he +would doubtless be given. + +His opportunity to hide in the niche had come as accidentally and as +suddenly as his opportunity to slug his card partner. It had come after +the prisoners had been advised of the crisis and were being herded into +vans for transportation elsewhere. He had snatched the opportunity +without giving any consideration whatever to the crisis. Probably +because he did not have enough imagination to fear anything--however +terrible--which might occur in the future. And because he treasured his +freedom above all else. Freedom for today, tomorrow could take care of +itself. + +Now, after forty-eight hours, he writhed and twisted his huge body out +of the niche and onto the floor of the furnace room. His legs were numb +and he found that he could not stand. He managed to sit up and was able +to bend his back enough so his great hands could reach his legs and +begin to massage life back into them. + +So elementally brutal was this man that he pounded his legs until they +were black and blue, before feeling returned to them. In a few minutes +he was walking out of the furnace room through a jail house which should +now be utterly deserted. But was it? He went slowly, gliding along close +to the walls to reach the front door unchallenged. + +He walked out into the street. It was daylight and the street was +completely deserted. The man took a deep breath and grinned. "I'll be +damned," he muttered. "I'll be double and triple damned. They're all +gone. Every damn one of them run off like rats and I'm the only one +left. I'll be damned!" + +A tremendous sense of exultation seized him. He clenched his fists and +laughed loud, his laugh echoing up the street. He was happier than he +had ever been in his quick, violent life. And his joy was that of a +child locked in a pantry with a huge chocolate cake. + +He rubbed a hand across his mouth, looked up the street, began walking. +"I wonder if they took all the whisky with them," he said. Then he +grinned; he was sure they had not. + +He began walking in long strides toward Clark Street. In toward the +still heart of the empty city. + + * * * * * + +He was a slim, pale-skinned little man, and very dangerous. He was also +very clever. Eventually they would have found out, but he had been +clever enough to deceive them and now they would never know. There was +great wealth in his family, and with the rest of them occupied with +leaving the city and taking what valuables they could on such short +notice, he had been put in charge of one of the chauffeurs. + +The chauffeur had been given the responsibility of getting the +pale-skinned young man out of the city. But the young man had caused +several delays until all the rest were gone. Then, meekly enough, he had +accompanied the chauffeur to the garage. The chauffeur got behind the +wheel of the last remaining car--a Cadillac sedan--and the young man had +gotten into the rear seat. + +But before the chauffeur could start the motor, the young man hit him on +the head with a tire bar he had taken from a shelf as they had entered +the garage. + +The bar went deep into the chauffeur's skull with a solid sound, and +thus the chauffeur found the death he was in the very act of fleeing. + +The young man pulled the dead chauffeur from the car and laid him on the +cement floor. He laid him down very carefully, so that he was in the +exact center of a large square of outlined cement with his feet pointing +straight north and his outstretched arms pointing south. + +The young man placed the chauffeur's cap very carefully upon his chest, +because neatness pleased him. Then he got into the car, started it, and +headed east toward Lake Michigan and the downtown section. + +After traveling three or four miles, he turned the car off the road and +drove it into a telephone post. Then he walked until he came to some +high weeds. He lay down in the weeds and waited. + +He knew there would probably be a last vanguard of militia hunting for +stragglers. If they saw a moving car they would investigate. They would +take him into custody and force him to leave the city. + +This, he felt, they had no right to do. All his life he had been ordered +about--told to do this and that and the other thing. Stupid orders from +stupid people. Idiots who went so far as to claim the whole city would +be destroyed, just to make people do as they said. God! The ends to +which stupid people would go in order to assert their wills over +brilliant people. + +The young man lay in the weeds and dozed off, his mind occupied with the +pleasant memory of the tire iron settling into the skull of the +chauffeur. + +After a while he awoke and heard the cars of the last vanguard passing +down the road. They stopped, inspected the Cadillac and found it +serviceable. They took it with them, but they did not search the weeds +along the road. + +When they had disappeared toward the west, the young man came back to +the road and began walking east, in toward the city. + +Complete destruction in two days? + +Preposterous. + +The young man smiled. + + * * * * * + +The girl was afraid. For hours she had walked the streets of the empty +city and the fear, strengthened by weariness, was now mounting toward +terror. "One face," she whispered. "Just one person coming out of a +house or walking across the street. That's all I ask. Somebody to tell +me what this is all about. If I can find one person, I won't be afraid +any more." + +And the irony of it struck her. A few hours previously she had attempted +suicide. Sick of herself and of all people, she had tried to end her own +life. Therefore, by acknowledging death as the answer, she should now +have no fear whatever of anything. Reconciled to crossing the bridge +into death, no facet of life should have held terror for her. + +But the empty city did hold terror. One face--one moving form was all +she asked for. + +Then, a second irony. When she saw the man at the corner of Washington +and Wells, her terror increased. They saw each other at almost the same +moment. Both stopped and stared. Fingers of panic ran up the girl's +spine. The man raised a hand and the spell was broken. The girl turned +and ran, and there was more terror in her than there had been before. + +[Illustration] + +She knew how absurd this was, but still she ran blindly. What had she to +fear? She knew all about men; all the things men could do they had +already done to her. Murder was the ultimate, but she was fresh from a +suicide attempt. Death should hold no terrors for her. + +She thought of these things as the man's footsteps sounded behind her +and she turned into a narrow alley seeking a hiding place. She found +none and the man turned in after her. + +She found a passageway, entered with the same blindness which had +brought her into the alley. There was a steel door at the end and a +brick lying by the sill. The door was locked. She picked up the brick +and turned. The man skidded on the filthy alley surface as he turned +into the areaway. + +The girl raised the brick over her head. "Keep away! Stay away from me!" + +"Wait a minute! Take it easy. I'm not going to hurt you!" + +"Get away!" + +Her arm moved downward. The man rushed in and caught her wrist. The +brick went over his shoulder and the nails of her other hand raked his +face. He seized her without regard for niceties and they went to the +ground. She fought with everything she had and he methodically +neutralized all her weapons--her hands, her legs, her teeth--until she +could not move. + +"Leave me alone. Please!" + +"What's wrong with you? I'm not going to hurt you. But I'm not going to +let you hit me with a brick, either!" + +"What do you want? Why did you chase me?" + +"Look--I'm a peaceful guy, but I'm not going to let you get away. I +spent all afternoon looking for somebody. I found you and you ran away. +I came after you." + +"I haven't done anything to you." + +"That's silly talk. Come on--grow up! I said I'm not going to hurt you." + +"Let me up." + +"So you can run away again? Not for a while. I want to talk to you." + +"I--I won't run. I was scared. I don't know why. You're hurting me." + +He got up--gingerly--and lifted her to her feet. He smiled, still +holding both her hands. "I'm sorry. I guess it's natural for you to be +scared. My name's Frank Brooks. I just want to find out what the hell +happened to this town." + +He let her withdraw her hands, but he still blocked her escape. She +moved a pace backward and straightened her clothing. "I don't know what +happened. I was looking for someone too." + +He smiled again. "And then you ran." + +"I don't know why. I guess--" + +"What's your name." + +"Nora--Nora Spade." + +"You slept through it too?" + +"Yes ... yes. I slept through it and came out and they were all gone." + +"Let's get out of this alley." He preceded her out, but he waited for +her when there was room for them to walk side by side, and she did not +try to run away. That phase was evidently over. + +"I got slipped a mickey in a tavern," Frank Brooks said. "Then they +slugged me and put me in a hole." + +His eyes questioned. She felt their demand and said, "I was--asleep in +my hotel room." + +"They overlooked you?" + +"I guess so." + +"Then you don't know anything about it?" + +"Nothing. Something terrible must have happened." + +"Let's go down this way," Frank said, and they moved toward Madison +Street. He had taken her arm and she did not pull away. Rather, she +walked invitingly close to him. + +She said, "It's so spooky. So ... empty. I guess that's what scared me." + +"It would scare anybody. There must have been an evacuation of some +kind." + +"Maybe the Russians are going to drop a bomb." + +Frank shook his head. "That wouldn't explain it. I mean, the Russians +wouldn't let us know ahead of time. Besides, the army would be here. +Everybody wouldn't be gone." + +"There's been a lot of talk about germ warfare. Do you suppose the +water, maybe, has been poisoned?" + +He shook his head. "The same thing holds true. Even if they moved the +people out, the army would be here." + +"I don't know. It just doesn't make sense." + +"It happened, so it has to make sense. It was something that came up all +of a sudden. They didn't have much more than twenty-four hours." He +stopped suddenly and looked at her. "We've got to get out of here!" + +Nora Spade smiled for the first time, but without humor. "How? I haven't +seen one car. The buses aren't running." + +His mind was elsewhere. They had started walking again. "Funny I didn't +think of that before." + +"Think of what?" + +"That anybody left in this town is a dead pigeon. The only reason they'd +clear out a city would be to get away from certain death. That would +mean death is here for anybody that stays. Funny. I was so busy looking +for somebody to talk to that I never thought of that." + +"I did." + +"Is that what you were scared of?" + +"Not particularly. I'm not afraid to die. It was something else that +scared me. The aloneness, I guess." + +"We'd better start walking west--out of the city. Maybe we'll find a car +or something." + +"I don't think we'll find any cars." + +He drew her to a halt and looked into her face. "You aren't afraid at +all, are you?" + +She thought for a moment. "No, I guess I'm not. Not of dying, that is. +Dying is a normal thing. But I was afraid of the empty streets--nobody +around. That was weird." + +"It isn't weird now?" + +"Not--not as much." + +"I wonder how much time we've got?" + +Nora shrugged. "I don't know, but I'm hungry." + +"We can fix that. I broke into a restaurant a few blocks back and got +myself a sandwich. I think there's still food around. They couldn't take +it all with them." + +They were on Madison Street and they turned east on the south side of +the street. Nora said, "I wonder if there are any other people still +here--like us?" + +"I think there must be. Not very many, but a few. They would have had to +clean four million people out overnight. It stands to reason they must +have missed a few. Did you ever try to empty a sack of sugar? Really +empty it? It's impossible. Some of the grains always stick to the sack." + +A few minutes later the wisdom of this observation was proven when they +came to a restaurant with the front window broken out and saw a man and +a woman sitting at one of the tables. + + * * * * * + +He was a huge man with a shock of black hair and a mouth slightly open +showing a set of incredibly white teeth. He waved an arm and shouted, +"Come on in! Come on in for crissake and sit down! We got beer and roast +beef and the beer's still cold. Come on in and meet Minna." + +This was different, Nora thought. Not eerie. Not weird, like seeing a +man standing on a deserted street corner with no one else around. This +seemed normal, natural, and even the smashed window didn't detract too +much from the naturalness. + +They went inside. There were chairs at the table and they sat down. The +big man did not get up. He waved a hand toward his companion and said, +"This is Minna. Ain't she something? I found her sitting at an empty bar +scared to death. We came to an understanding and I brought her along." +He grinned at the woman and winked. "We came to a real understanding, +didn't we, Minna?" + +Minna was a completely colorless woman of perhaps thirty-five. Her skin +was smooth and pale and she wore no makeup of any kind. Her hair was +drawn straight back into a bun. The hair had no predominating color. It +was somewhere between light brown and blond. + +She smiled a little sadly, but the laugh did not cover her worn, tired +look. It seemed more like a gesture of obedience than anything else. +"Yes. We came to an understanding." + +"I'm Jim Wilson," the big man boomed. "I was in the Chicago Avenue jug +for slugging a guy in a card game. They kind of overlooked me when they +cleaned the joint out." He winked again. "I kind of helped them overlook +me. Then I found Minna." There was tremendous relish in his words. + +Frank started introductions which Nora Spade cut in on. "Maybe you know +what happened?" she asked. + +Wilson shook his head. "I was in the jug and they didn't tell us. They +just started cleaning out the joint. There was talk in the +bullpen--invasion or something. Nobody knew for sure. Have some beer and +meat." + +Nora turned to the quiet Minna. "Did you hear anything?" + +"Naw," Wilson said with a kind of affectionate contempt. "She don't know +anything about it. She lived in some attic dump and was down with a sore +throat. She took some pills or something and when she woke up they were +gone." + +"I went to work and--" Minna began, but Wilson cut her off. + +"She swabs out some joints on Chicago Avenue for a living and that was +how she happened to be sitting in that tavern. It's payday, and Minna +was waiting for her dough!" He exploded into laughter and slapped the +table with a huge hand. "Can you beat that? Waiting for her pay at a +time like this." + +Frank Brooks set down his beer bottle. The beer was cold and it tasted +good. "Have you met anybody else? There must be some other people +around." + +"Uh-uh. Haven't met anybody but Minna." He turned his eyes on the woman +again, then got to his feet. "Come on, Minna. You and I got to have a +little conference. We got things to talk about." Grinning, he walked +toward the rear of the restaurant. Minna got up more slowly. She +followed him behind the counter and into the rear of the place. + +Alone with Nora, Frank said, "You aren't eating. Want me to look for +something else?" + +"No--I'm not very hungry. I was just wondering--" + +"Wondering about what?" + +"When it will happen. When whatever is going to happen--you know what I +mean." + +"I'd rather know _what's_ going to happen. I hate puzzles. It's hell to +have to get killed and not know what killed you." + +"We aren't being very sensible, are we?" + +"How do you mean?" + +"We should at least act normal." + +"I don't get it." + +Nora frowned in slight annoyance. "Normal people would be trying to +reach safety. They wouldn't be sitting in a restaurant drinking beer. We +should be trying to get away. Even if it does mean walking. Normal +people would be trying to get away." + +Frank stared at his bottle for a moment. "We should be scared stiff, +shouldn't we?" + +It was Nora's turn to ponder. "I'm not sure. Maybe not. I know I'm not +fighting anything inside--fear, I mean. I just don't seem to care one +way or another." + +"I care," Frank replied. "I care. I don't want to die. But we're faced +with a situation, and either way it's a gamble. We might be dead before +I finish this bottle of beer. If that's true, why not sit here and be +comfortable? Or we might have time to walk far enough to get out of +range of whatever it is that chased everybody." + +"Which way do you think it is?" + +"I don't think we have time to get out of town. They cleaned it out too +fast. We'd need at least four or five hours to get away. If we had that +much time the army, or whoever did it, would still be around." + +"Maybe they didn't know themselves when it's going to happen." + +He made an impatient gesture. "What difference does it make? We're in a +situation we didn't ask to get in. Our luck put us here and I'm damned +if I'm going to kick a hole in the ceiling and yell for help." + +Nora was going to reply, but at that moment Jim Wilson came striding out +front. He wore his big grin and he carried another half-dozen bottles of +beer. "Minna'll be out in a minute," he said. "Women are always slower +than hell." + +He dropped into a chair and snapped the cap off a beer bottle with his +thumb. He held the bottle up and squinted through it, sighing gustily. +"Man! I ain't never had it so good." He tilted the bottle in salute, and +drank. + + * * * * * + +The sun was lowering in the west now, and when Minna reappeared it +seemed that she materialized from the shadows, so quietly did she move. +Jim Wilson opened another bottle and put it before her. "Here--have a +drink, baby." + +Obediently, she tilted the bottle and drank. + +"What do you plan to do?" Frank asked. + +"It'll be dark soon," Wilson said. "We ought to go out and try to +scrounge some flashlights. I bet the power plants are dead. Probably +aren't any flashlights either." + +"Are you going to stay here?" Nora asked. "Here in the Loop?" + +He seemed surprised. "Why not? A man'd be a fool to walk out on all +this. All he wants to eat and drink. No goddam cops around. The life of +Reilly and I should walk out?" + +"Aren't you afraid of what's going to happen?" + +"I don't give a good goddam what's going to happen. What the hell! +Something's always going to happen." + +"They didn't evacuate the city for nothing," Frank said. + +"You mean we can all get killed?" Jim Wilson laughed. "Sure we can. We +could have got killed last week too. We could of got batted in the can +by a truck anytime we crossed the street." He emptied his bottle, threw +it accurately at a mirror over the cash register. The crash was +thunderous. "Trouble with you people, you're worry warts," he said with +an expansive grin. "Let's go get us some flashlights so we can find our +way to bed in one of those fancy hotels." + +He got to his feet and Minna arose also, a little tired, a little +apprehensive, but entirely submissive. Jim Wilson said, "Come on, baby. +I sure won't want to lose _you_." He grinned at the others. "You guys +coming?" + +Frank's eyes met Nora's. He shrugged. "Why not?" he said. "Unless you +want to start walking." + +"I'm too tired," Nora said. + +As they stepped out through the smashed window, both Nora and Frank +half-expected to see other forms moving up and down Madison Street. But +there was no one. Only the unreal desolation of the lonely pavement and +the dark-windowed buildings. + +"The biggest ghost town on earth," Frank muttered. + +Nora's hand had slipped into Frank's. He squeezed it and neither of them +seemed conscious of the contact. + +"I wonder," Nora said. "Maybe this is only one of them. Maybe all the +other big cities are evacuated too." + +Jim Wilson and Minna were walking ahead. He turned. "If you two can't +sleep without finding out what's up, it's plenty easy to do." + +"You think we could find a battery radio in some store?" Frank asked. + +"Hell no! They'll all be gone. But all you'd have to do is snoop around +in some newspaper office. If you can read you can find out what +happened." + +It seemed strange to Frank that he had not thought of this. Then he +realized he hadn't tried very hard to think of anything at all. He was +surprised, also, at his lack of fear. He's gone through life pretty much +taking things as they came--as big a sucker as the next man--making more +than his quota of mistakes and blunders. Finding himself completely +alone in a deserted city for the first time in his life, he had +naturally fallen prey to sudden fright. But that had gradually passed, +and now he was able to accept the new reality fairly passively. He +wondered if that wasn't pretty much the way of all people. New +situations brought a surge of whatever emotion fitted the picture. Then +the emotion subsided and the new thing became the ordinary. + +This, he decided, was the manner in which humanity survived. Humanity +took things as they came. Pile on enough of anything and it becomes the +ordinary. + +Jim Wilson had picked up a garbage box and hurled it through the window +of an electric shop. The glass came down with a crash that shuddered up +the empty darkening street and grumbled off into silence. Jim Wilson +went inside. "I'll see what I can find. You stay out here and watch for +cops." His laughter echoed out as he disappeared. + +Minna stood waiting silently, unmoving, and somehow she reminded Frank +of a dumb animal; an unreasoning creature with no mind of her own, +waiting for a signal from her master. Strangely, he resented this, but +at the same time could find no reason for his resentment, except the +feeling that no one should appear as much a slave as Minna. + +Jim Wilson reappeared in the window. He motioned to Minna. "Come on in, +baby. You and me's got to have a little conference." His exaggerated +wink was barely perceptible in the gloom as Minna stepped over the low +sill into the store. "Won't be long, folks," Wilson said in high good +humor, and the two of them vanished into the darkness beyond. + +Frank Brooks glanced at Nora, but her face was turned away. He cursed +softy under his breath. He said, "Wait a minute," and went into the +store through the huge, jagged opening. + +Inside, he could barely make out the counters. The place was larger than +it had appeared from the outside. Wilson and Minna were nowhere about. + +Frank found the counter he was looking for and pawed out several +flashlights. They were only empty tubes, but he found a case of +batteries in a panel compartment against the wall. + +"Who's there?" + +"Me. I came in for some flashlights." + +"Couldn't you wait?" + +"It's getting dark." + +"You don't have to be so damn impatient." Jim Wilson's voice was hostile +and surly. + +Frank stifled his quick anger. "We'll be outside," he said. He found +Nora waiting where he'd left her. He loaded batteries into four +flashlights before Jim Wilson and Minna reappeared. + +Wilson's good humor was back. "How about the Morrison or the Sherman," +he said. "Or do you want to get real ritzy and walk up to the Drake?" + +"My feet hurt," Minna said. The woman spoke so rarely, Frank Brooks was +startled by her words. + +"Morrison's the closest," Jim Wilson said. "Let's go." He took Minna by +the arm and swung off up the street. Frank and Nora fell in behind. + +Nora shivered. Frank, holding her arm, asked, "Cold?" + +"No. It's just all--unreal again." + +"I see what you mean." + +"I never expected to see the Loop dark. I can't get used to it." + +A vagrant, whispering wind picked up a scrap of paper and whirled it +along the street. It caught against Nora's ankle. She jerked perceptibly +and kicked the scrap away. The wind caught it again and spiralled it +away into the darkness. + +"I want to tell you something," she said. + +"Tell away." + +"I told you before that I slept through the--the evacuation, or whatever +it was. That wasn't exactly true. I did sleep through it, but it was my +fault. I put myself to sleep." + +"I don't get it." + +"I tried to kill myself. Sleeping tablets. Seven of them. They weren't +enough." + +Frank said nothing while they paced off ten steps through the dark +canyon that was Madison Street. Nora wondered if he had heard. + +"I tried to commit suicide." + +"Why?" + +"I was tired of life, I guess." + +"What do you want--sympathy?" + +The sudden harshness in his voice brought her eyes around, but his face +was a white blur. + +"No--no, I don't think so." + +"Well, you won't get it from me. Suicide is silly. You can have troubles +and all that--everybody has them--but suicide--why did you try it?" + +A high, thin whine--a wordless vibration of eloquence--needled out of +the darkness into their ears. The shock was like a sudden shower of ice +water dashed over their bodies. Nora's fingers dug into Frank's arm, but +he did not feel the cutting nails. "We're--there's someone out there in +the street!" + + * * * * * + +Twenty-five feet ahead of where Frank and Nora stood frozen there burst +the booming voice of Jim Wilson. "What the hell was that?" And the shock +was dispelled. The white circle from Wilson's flash bit out across the +blackness to outline movement on the far side of the street. Then Frank +Brook's light, and Nora's, went exploring. + +"There's somebody over there," Wilson bellowed. "Hey, you! Show your +face! Quit sneaking around!" + +Frank's light swept an arc that clearly outlined the buildings across +the street and then weakened as it swung westward. There was something +or someone back there, but obscured by the dimness. He was swept by a +sense of unreality again. + +"Did you see them?" + +Nora's light beam had dropped to her feet as though she feared to point +it out into the darkness. "I thought I saw something." + +Jim Wilson was swearing industriously. "There was a guy over there. He +ducked around the corner. Some damn fool out scrounging. Wish I had a +gun." + +Frank and Nora moved ahead and the four stood in a group. "Put out your +lights," Wilson said. "They make good targets if the jerk's got any +weapons." + +They stood in the darkness, Nora holding tightly to Frank's arm. Frank +said, "That was the damndest noise I ever heard." + +"Like a siren?" Frank thought Jim Wilson spoke hopefully, as though +wanting somebody to agree with him. + +"Not like any I ever heard. Not like a whistle, either. More of a moan." + +"Let's get into that goddam hotel and--" + +Jim Wilson's words were cut off by a new welling-up of the melancholy +howling. It had a new pattern this time. It sounded from many places; +not nearer, Frank thought, than Lake Street on the north, but spreading +outward and backward and growing fainter until it died on the wind. + +Nora was shivering, clinging to Frank without reserve. + +Jim Wilson said, "I'll be damned if it doesn't sound like a signal of +some kind." + +"Maybe it's a language--a way of communication." + +"But who the hell's communicating?" + +"How would I know?" + +"We best get to that hotel and bar a few doors. A man can't fight in the +dark--and nothing to fight with." + +They hurried up the street, but it was all different now. Gone was the +illusion of being alone; gone the sense of solitude. Around them the +ghost town had come suddenly alive. Sinister forces more frightening +than the previous solitude had now to be reckoned with. + +"Something's happened--something in the last few minutes," Nora +whispered. + +Frank leaned close as they crossed the street to the dark silent pile +that was the Morrison hotel. "I think I know what you mean." + +"It's as though there was no one around and then, suddenly, they came." + +"I think they came and went away again." + +"Did you actually _see_ anyone when you flashed your light?" + +"No--I can't say positively that I did. But I got the impression there +were figures out there--at least dozens of them--and that they moved +back away from the light. Always just on the edge of it." + +"I'm scared, Frank." + +"So am I." + +"Do you think it could all be imagination?" + +"Those moans? Maybe the first one--I've heard of people imagining +sounds. But not the last ones. And besides, we all heard them." + +Jim Wilson, utterly oblivious of any subtle emanations in the air, +boomed out in satisfaction: "We don't have to bust the joint open. The +revolving door works." + +"Then maybe we ought to be careful," Frank said. "Maybe somebody else is +around here." + +"Could be. We'll find out." + +"Why are we afraid?" Nora whispered. + +"It's natural, isn't it?" Frank melted the beam of his light with that +of Jim Wilson. The white finger pierced the darkness inside. Nothing +moved. + +"I don't see why it should be. If there are people in there they must be +as scared as we are." + +Nora was very close to him as they entered. + +The lobby seemed deserted. The flashlight beams scanned the empty chairs +and couches. The glass of the deserted cages threw back reflections. + +"The keys are in there," Frank said. He vaulted the desk and scanned the +numbers under the pigeon holes. + +"We'd better stay down low," Jim Wilson said. "Damned if I'm going to +climb to the penthouse." + +"How about the fourth floor?" + +"That's plenty high enough." + +Frank came out with a handful of keys. "Odd numbers," he said. "Four in +a row." + +"Well I'll be damned," Jim Wilson muttered. But he said no more and they +climbed the stairs in silence. They passed the quiet dining rooms and +banquet halls, and by the time they reached the fourth floor the doors +giving off the corridors had assumed a uniformity. + +"Here they are." He handed a key to Wilson. "That's the end one." He +said nothing as he gave Minna her key, but Wilson grunted, "For +crissake!" in a disgusted voice, took Minna's key and threw it on the +floor. + +Frank and Nora watched as Wilson unlocked his door. Wilson turned. +"Well, goodnight all. If you get goosed by any spooks, just yell." + +Minna followed him without a word and the door closed. + +Frank handed Nora her key. "Lock your door and you'll be safe. I'll +check the room first." He unlocked the door and flashed his light +inside. Nora was close behind him as he entered. He checked the +bathroom. "Everything clear. Lock your door and you'll be safe." + +"Frank." + +"Yes?" + +"I'm afraid to stay alone." + +"You mean you want me to--" + +"There are two beds here." + +His reply was slow in coming. Nora didn't wait for it. Her voice rose to +the edge of hysteria. "Quit being so damned righteous. Things have +changed! Can't you realize that? What does it matter how or where we +sleep? Does the world care? Will it make a damn bit of difference to the +world whether I strip stark naked in front of you?" A sob choked in her +throat. "Or would that outrage your morality." + +He moved toward her, stopped six inches away. "It isn't that. For God's +sake! I'm no saint. It's just that I thought you--" + +"I'm plain scared, and I don't want to be alone. To me that's all that's +important." + +Her face was against his chest and his arms went around her. But her own +hands were fists held together against him until he could feel her +knuckles, hard, against his chest. She was crying. + +"Sure," Frank said. "I'll stay with you. Now take it easy. Everything's +going to be all right." + +Nora sniffled without bothering to reach for her handkerchief. "Stop +lying. You know it isn't going to be all right." + +Frank was at somewhat of a loss. This flareup of Nora's was entirely +unexpected. He eased toward the place the flashlight had shown the bed +to be. Her legs hit its edge and she sat down. + +"You--you want me to sleep in the other one?" he asked. + +"Of course," Nora replied with marked bitterness. "I'm afraid you +wouldn't be very comfortable in with me." + +There was a time of silence. Frank took off his jacket, shirt and +trousers. It was funny, he thought. He'd spent his money, been drugged, +beaten and robbed as a result of one objective--to get into a room alone +with a girl. And a girl not nearly as nice as Nora at that. Now, here he +was alone with a real dream, and he was tongue-tied. It didn't make +sense. He shrugged. Life was crazy sometimes. + +He heard the rustle of garments and wondered how much Nora was taking +off. Then he dropped his trousers, forgotten, to the floor. "Did you +hear that?" + +"Yes. It's that--" + +Frank went to the window, raised the sash. The moaning sound came in +louder, but it was from far distance. "I think that's out around +Evanston." + +Frank felt a warmth on his cheek and he realized Nora was by his side, +leaning forward. He put an arm around her and they stood unmoving in +complete silence. Although their ears were straining for the sound +coming down from the north, Frank could not be oblivious of the warm +flesh under his hand. + +Nora's breathing was soft against his cheek. She said, "Listen to how it +rises and falls. It's almost as though they were using it to talk with. +The inflection changes." + +"I think that's what it is. It's coming from a lot of different places. +It stops in some places and starts in others." + +"It's so--weird." + +"Spooky," Frank said, "but in a way it makes me feel better." + +"I don't see how it could." Nora pressed closer to him. + +"It does though, because of what I was afraid of. I had it figured out +that the city was going to blow up--that a bomb had been planted that +they couldn't find, or something like that. Now, I'm pretty sure it's +something else. I'm willing to bet we'll be alive in the morning." + +Nora thought that over in silence. "If that's the way it is--if some +kind of invaders are coming down from the north--isn't it stupid to stay +here? Even if we are tired we ought to be trying to get away from them." + +"I was thinking the same thing. I'll go and talk to Wilson." + +They crossed the room together and he left her by the bed and went on to +the door. Then he remembered he was in his shorts and went back and got +his trousers. After he'd put them on, he wondered why he'd bothered. He +opened the door. + +Something warned him--some instinct--or possibly his natural fear and +caution coincided with the presence of danger. He heard the footsteps on +the carpeting down the hall--soft, but unmistakably footsteps. He +called, "Wilson--Wilson--that you?" + +The creature outside threw caution to the winds, Frank sensed rather +than heard a body hurtling toward the door. A shrill, mad laughter raked +his ears and the weight of a body hit the door. + +Frank drew strength from pure panic as he threw his weight against the +panel, but perhaps an inch or two from the latch the door wavered from +opposing strength. Through the narrow opening he could feel the hoarse +breath of exertion in his face. Insane giggles and curses sounded +through the black stillness. + +Frank had the wild conviction he was losing the battle, and added +strength came from somewhere. He heaved and there was a scream and he +knew he had at least one finger caught between the door and the jamb. He +threw his weight against the door with frenzied effort and heard the +squash of the finger. The voice kited up to a shriek of agony, like that +of a wounded animal. + +Even with his life at stake, and the life of Nora, Frank could not +deliberately slice the man's fingers off. Even as he fought the urge, +and called himself a fool, he allowed the door to give slightly inward. +The hand was jerked to safety. + +At that moment another door opened close by and Jim Wilson's voice +boomed: "What the hell's going on out here?" + +Simultaneous with this, racing footsteps receded down the hall and from +the well of the stairway came a whining cry of pain. + +"Jumping jees!" Wilson bellowed. "We got company. We ain't alone!" + +"He tried to get into my room." + +"You shouldn't have opened the door. Nora okay?" + +"Yeah. She's all right." + +"Tell her to stay in her room. And you do the same. We'd be crazy to go +after that coot in the dark. He'll keep 'til morning." + +Frank closed the door, double-locked it and went back to Nora's bed. He +could hear a soft sobbing. He reached down and pulled back the covers +and the sobbing came louder. Then he was down on the bed and she was in +his arms. + +She cried until the panic subsided, while he held her and said nothing. +After a while she got control of herself. "Don't leave me, Frank," she +begged. "Please don't leave me." + +He stroked her shoulder. "I won't," he whispered. + +They lay for a long time in utter silence, each seeking strength in the +other's closeness. The silence was finally broken by Nora. + +"Frank?" + +"Yes." + +"Do you want me?" + +He did not answer. + +"If you want me you can have me, Frank." + +Frank said nothing. + +"I told you today that I tried to commit suicide. Remember?" + +"I remember." + +"That was the truth. I did it because I was tired of everything. Because +I've made a terrible mess of things. I didn't want to go on living." + +He remained silent, holding her. + +As she spoke again, her voice sharpened. "Can't you understand what I'm +telling you? I'm no good! I'm just a bum! Other men have had me! Why +shouldn't you? Why should you be cheated out of what other men have +had?" + +He remained silent. After a few moments, Nora said, "For God's sake, +talk! Say something!" + +"How do you feel about it now? Will you try again to kill yourself the +next chance you get?" + +"No--no, I don't think I'll ever try it again." + +"Then things must look better." + +"I don't know anything about that. I just don't want to do it now." + +She did not urge him this time and he was slow in speaking. "It's kind +of funny. It really is. Don't get the idea I've got morals. I haven't. +I've had my share of women. I was working on one the night they slipped +me the mickey--the night before I woke up to this tomb of a city. But +now--tonight--it's kind of different. I feel like I want to protect you. +Is that strange?" + +"No," she said quietly. "I guess not." + +They lay there silently, their thoughts going off into the blackness of +the sepulchral night. After a long while, Nora's even breathing told him +she was asleep. He got up quietly, covered her, and went to the other +bed. + +But before he slept, the weird wailings from out Evanston way came +again--rose and fell in that strange conversational cadence--then died +away into nothing. + + * * * * * + +Frank awoke to the first fingers of daylight. Nora still slept. He +dressed and stood for some moments with his hand on the door knob. Then +he threw the bolt and cautiously opened the door. + +The hallway was deserted. At this point it came to him forcibly that he +was not a brave man. All his life, he realized, he had avoided physical +danger and had refused to recognize the true reason for so doing. He had +classified himself as a man who dodged trouble through good sense; that +the truly civilized person went out of his way to keep the peace. + +He realized now that that attitude was merely salve for his ego. He +faced the empty corridor and did not wish to proceed further. But +stripped of the life-long alibi, he forced himself to walk through the +doorway, close the door softly, and move toward the stairs. + +He paused in front of the door behind which Jim Wilson and Minna were no +doubt sleeping. He stared at it wistfully. It certainly would not be a +mark of cowardice to get Jim Wilson up under circumstances such as +these. In fact, he would be a fool not to do so. + +Stubbornness forbade such a move, however. He walked softly toward the +place where the hallway dead-ended and became a cross-corridor. He made +the turn carefully, pressed against one wall. There was no one in sight. +He got to the stairway and started down. + +His muscles and nerves tightened with each step. When he reached the +lobby he was ready to jump sky-high at the drop of a pin. + +But no one dropped any pins, and he reached the modernistic glass +doorway to the drugstore with only silence screaming in his ears. The +door was unlocked. One hinge squeaked slightly as he pushed the door +inward. + +It was in the drugstore that Frank found signs of the fourth-floor +intruder. An inside counter near the prescription department was red +with blood. Bandages and first-aid supplies had been unboxed and thrown +around with abandon. Here the man had no doubt administered to his +smashed hand. + +But where had he gone? Asleep, probably, in one of the rooms upstairs. +Frank wished fervently for a weapon. Beyond doubt there was not a gun +left in the Loop. + +A gun was not the only weapon ever created, though, and Frank searched +the store and found a line of pocket knives still in neat boxes near the +perfume counter. + +He picked four of the largest and found, also, a wooden-handled, +lead-tipped bludgeon, used evidently for cracking ice. + +Thus armed, he went out through the revolving door. He walked through +streets that were like death under the climbing sun. Through streets and +canyons of dead buildings upon which the new daylight had failed to shed +life or diminish the terror of the night past. + +At Dearborn he found the door to the Tribune Public Service Building +locked. He used the ice breaker to smash a glass door panel. The crash +of the glass on the cement was an explosion in the screaming silence. He +went inside. Here the sense of desolation was complete; brought sharply +to focus, probably, by the pigeon holes filled with letters behind the +want-ad counter. Answers to a thousand and one queries, waiting +patiently for someone to come after them. + +Before going to the basement and the back files of the Chicago Tribune, +Frank climbed to the second floor and found what he thought might be +there--a row of teletype machines with a file-board hooked to the side +of each machine. + +Swiftly, he stripped the copy sheets off each board, made a bundle of +them and went back downstairs. He covered the block back to the hotel at +a dog-trot, filled with a sudden urge to get back to the fourth floor as +soon as possible. + +[Illustration] + +He stopped in the drugstore and filled his pockets with soap, a razor, +shaving cream and face lotion. As an afterthought, he picked up a lavish +cosmetic kit that retailed, according to the price tag, for thirty-eight +dollars plus tax. + +He let himself back into the room and closed the door softly. Nora +rolled over, exposing a shoulder and one breast. The breast held his +gaze for a full minute. Then a feeling of guilt swept him and he went +into the bathroom and closed the door. + +Luckily, a supply tank on the roof still contained water and Frank was +able to shower and shave. Dressed again, he felt like a new man. But he +regretted not hunting up a haberdashery shop and getting himself a clean +shirt. + +Nora had still not awakened when he came out of the bathroom. He went to +the bed and stood looking down at her for some time. Then he touched her +shoulder. + +"Wake up. It's morning." + +Nora stirred. Her eyes opened, but Frank got the impression she did not +really awaken for several seconds. Her eyes went to his face, to the +window, back to his face. + +"What time is it?" + +"I don't know. I think it's around eight o'clock." + +Nora stretched both arms luxuriously. As she sat up, her slip fell back +into place and Frank got the impression she hadn't even been aware of +her partial nudity. + +She stared up at him, clarity dawning in her eyes, "You're all cleaned +up." + +"I went downstairs and got some things." + +"You went out--alone?" + +"Why not. We can't stay in here all day. We've got to hit the road and +get out of here. We've overshot our luck already." + +"But that--that man in the hall last night! You shouldn't have taken a +chance." + +"I didn't bump into him. I found the place he fixed his hand, down in +the drugstore." + +Frank went to the table and came back with the cosmetic set. He put it +in Nora's lap. "I brought this up for you." + +Surprise and true pleasure were mixed in her expression. "That was very +nice. I think I'd better get dressed." + +Frank turned toward the window where he had left the bundle of teletype +clips. "I've got a little reading to do." + +As he sat down, he saw, from the corner of his eye, a flash of slim +brown legs moving toward the bathroom. Just inside the door, Nora +turned. "Are Jim Wilson and Minna up yet?" + +"I don't think so." + +Nora's eyes remained on him. "I think you were very brave to go +downstairs alone. But it was a foolish thing to do. You should have +waited for Jim Wilson." + +"You're right about it being foolish. But I had to go." + +"Why?" + +"Because I'm not brave at all. Maybe that was the reason." + +Nora left the bathroom door open about six inches and Frank heard the +sound of the shower. He sat with the papers in his hand wondering about +the water. When he had gone to the bathroom the thought had never +occurred to him. It was natural that it should. Now he wondered about +it. Why was it still running? After a while he considered the +possibility of the supply tank on the roof. + +Then he wondered about Nora. It was strange how he could think about her +personally and impersonally at the same time. He remembered her words of +the previous night. They made her--he shied from the term. What was the +old cliche? A woman of easy virtue. + +What made a woman of that type, he wondered. Was it something inherent +in their makeup? That partially opened door was symbolic somehow. He was +sure that many wives closed the bathroom door upon their husbands; did +it without thinking, instinctively. He was sure Nora had left it +partially open without thinking. Could a behavior pattern be traced from +such an insignificant thing? + +He wondered about his own attitude toward Nora. He had drawn away from +what she'd offered him during the night. And yet from no sense of +disgust. There was certainly far more about Nora to attract than to +repel. + +Morals, he realized dimly, were imposed--or at least functioned--for the +protection of society. With society gone--vanished overnight--did the +moral code still hold? + +If and when they got back among masses of people, would his feelings +toward Nora change? He thought not. He would marry her, he told himself +firmly, as quick as he'd marry any other girl. He would not hold what +she was against her. I guess I'm just fundamentally unmoral myself, he +thought, and began reading the news clips. + + * * * * * + +There was a knock on the door accompanied by the booming voice of Jim +Wilson. "You in there! Ready for breakfast?" + +Frank got up and walked toward the door. As he did so, the door to the +bathroom closed. + +Jim Wilson wore a two-day growth of beard and it didn't seem to bother +him at all. As he entered the room he rubbed his hands together in great +gusto. "Well, where'll we eat, folks? Let's pick the classiest +restaurant in town. Nothing but the best for Minna here." + +He winked broadly as Minna, expressionless and silent, followed him in +exactly as a shadow would have followed him and sat primly down in a +straight-backed chair by the wall. + +"We'd better start moving south," Frank said, "and not bother about +breakfast." + +"Getting scared?" Jim Wilson asked. + +"You're damn right I'm scared--now. We're right in the middle of a big +no-man's-land." + +"I don't get you." + +At that moment the bathroom door opened and Nora came out. Jim Wilson +forgot about the question he'd asked. He let forth a loud whistle of +appreciation. Then he turned his eyes on Frank and his thought was +crystal clear. He was envying Frank the night just passed. + +A sudden irritation welled up in Frank Brooks, a distinct feeling of +disgust. "Let's start worrying about important things--our lives. Or +don't you consider your life very important?" + +Jim Wilson seemed puzzled. "What the hell's got into you? Didn't you +sleep good?" + +"I went down the block this morning and found some teletype machines. +I've just been reading the reports." + +"What about that guy that tried to get into your room last night?" + +"I didn't see him. I didn't see anybody. But I know why the city's been +cleaned out." Frank went back to the window and picked up the sheaf on +clips he had gone through. Jim Wilson sat down on the edge of the bed, +frowning. Nora followed Frank and perched on the edge of the chair he +dropped into. + +"The city going to blow up?" Wilson asked. + +"No. We've been invaded by some form of alien life." + +"Is that what the papers said?" + +"It was the biggest and fastest mass evacuation ever attempted. I pieced +the reports together. There was hell popping around here during the two +days we--we waited it out." + +"Where did they all go?" Nora asked. + +"South. They've evacuated a forty-mile strip from the lake west. The +first Terran defense line is set up in northern Indiana." + +"What do you mean--Terra." + +"It's a word that means Earth--this planet. The invaders came from some +other planet, they think--at least from no place on Earth." + +"That's the silliest damn thing I ever heard of," Wilson said. + +"A lot of people probably thought the same thing," Frank replied. +"Flying saucers were pretty common. Nobody thought they were anything +and nobody paid much attention. Then they hit--three days ago--and wiped +out every living soul in three little southern Michigan towns. From +there they began spreading out. They--" + +Each of them heard the sound at the same time. A faint rumble, +increasing swiftly into high thunder. They moved as one to the window +and saw four jet planes, in formation, moving across the sky from the +south. + +"There they come," Frank said. "The fight's started. Up to now the army +has been trying to get set, I suppose." + +Nora said, "Is there any way we can hail them? Let them know--" + +Her words were cut off by the horror of what happened. As they watched, +the plane skimmed low across the Loop. At a point, approximately over +Lake Street, Frank estimated, the planes were annihilated. There was a +flash of blue fire coming in like jagged lightning to form four balls of +fire around the planes. The fire balls turned, almost instantly, into +globes of white smoke that drifted lazily away. + +And that was all. But the planes vanished completely. + +"What happened?" Wilson muttered. "Where'd they go?" + +"It was as if they hit a wall," Nora said, her voice hushed with awe. + +"I think that _was_ what happened," Frank said. "The invaders have some +kind of a weapon that holds us helpless. Otherwise the army wouldn't +have established this no-man's-land and pulled out. The reports said we +have them surrounded on all sides with the help of the lake. We're +trying to keep them isolated." + +Jim Wilson snorted. "It looks like we've got them right where they want +us." + +"Anyhow, we're damn fools to stick around here. We'd better head south." + +Wilson looked wistfully about the room. "I guess so, but it's a +shame--walking away from all this." + +Nora was staring out the window, a small frown on her face. "I wonder +who they are and where they came from?" + +"The teletype releases were pretty vague on that." + +She turned quickly. "There's something peculiar about them. Something +really strange." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Last night when we were walking up the street. It must have been these +invaders we heard. They must have been across the street. But they +didn't act like invaders. They seemed--well, scared. I got the feeling +they ran from us in panic. And they haven't been back." + +Wilson said, "They may not have been there at all. Probably our +imaginations." + +"I don't think so," Frank cut in. "They were there and then they were +gone. I'm sure of it." + +"Those wailing noises. They were certainly signalling to each other. Do +you suppose that's the only language they have?" Nora walked over and +offered the silent Minna a cigarette. Minna refused with a shake of her +head. + +"I wish we knew what they looked like," Frank said. "But let's not sit +here talking. Let's get going." + +Jim Wilson was scowling. There was a marked sullenness in his manner. +"Not Minna and me. I've changed my mind. I'm sticking here." + +Frank blinked in surprise. "Are you crazy? We've run our luck out +already. Did you see what happened to those planes?" + +"The hell with the planes. We've got it good here. This I like. I like +it a lot. We'll stay." + +"Okay," Frank replied hotly, "but talk for yourself. You're not making +Minna stay!" + +Wilson's eyes narrowed. "I'm not? Look, buster--how about minding your +own goddam business?" + +The vague feelings of disgust Frank had had now crystallized into words. +"I won't let you get away with it! You think I'm blind? Hauling her into +the back room every ten minutes! Don't you think I know why? You're +nothing but a damn sex maniac! You've got her terrorized until she's +afraid to open her mouth. She goes with us!" + +Jim Wilson was on his feet. His face blazed with rage. The urge to kill +was written in the crouch of his body and the twist of his mouth. "You +goddam nosey little squirt. I'll--" + +Wilson charged across the short, intervening distance. His arms went out +in a clutching motion. + +But Frank Brooks wasn't full of knockout drops this time, and with a +clear head he was no pushover. Blinded with rage, Jim Wilson _was_ a +pushover. Frank stepped in between his outstretched arms and slugged him +squarely on top of the head with the telephone. Wilson went down like a +felled steer. + +The scream came from Minna as she sprang across the room. She had turned +from a colorless rag doll into a tigress. She hit Frank square in the +belly with small fists at the end of stiff, outstretched arms. The full +force of her charge was behind the fists, and Frank went backward over +the bed. + +Minna did not follow up her attack. She dropped to the floor beside Jim +Wilson and took his huge head in her lap. "You killed him," she sobbed. +"You--you murderer! You killed him! You had no right!" + +Frank sat wide-eyed. "Minna! For God's sake! I was helping you. I did it +for you!" + +"Why don't you mind your business? I didn't ask you to protect me? I +don't need any protection--not from Jim." + +"You mean you didn't mind the way he's treated you--" + +"You've killed him--killed him--" Minna raised her head slowly. She +looked at Frank as though she saw him for the first time. "You're a +fool" she said dully. "A big fool. What right have you got to meddle +with other people's affairs? Are you God or something, to run people's +lives?" + +"Minna--I--" + +It was as though he hadn't spoken. "Do you know what it's like to have +nobody? All your life to go on and grow older without anybody? I didn't +have no one and then Jim came along and wanted me." + +Frank walked close to her and bent down. She reacted like a tiger. +"Leave him alone! Leave him alone! You've done enough!" + +Nonplused, Frank backed away. + +"People with big noses--always sticking them in. That's you. Was that +any of your business what he wanted of me? Did I complain?" + +"I'm sorry, Minna. I didn't know." + +"I'd rather go into back rooms with him than stay in front rooms without +nobody." + +She began to cry now. Wordlessly--soundlessly, rocking back and forth +with the huge man's bloody head in her lap. "Anytime," she crooned. +"Anytime I would--" + +The body in her arms stirred. She looked down through her tears and saw +the small black eyes open. They were slightly crossed, unfocused as they +were by the force of the blow. They straightened and Jim mumbled, "What +the hell--what the hell--" + +Minna's time for talking seemed over. She smiled--a smile hardly +perceptible, as though it was for herself alone. "You're all right," she +said. "That's good. You're all right." + +Jim pushed her roughly away and staggered to his feet. He stood swaying +for a moment, his head turning; for all the world like a bull blinded +and tormented. Then his eyes focused on Frank. + +"You hit me with the goddam phone." + +"Yeah--I hit you." + +"I'm gonna kill you." + +"Look--I made a mistake." Frank picked up the phone and backed against +the wall. "I hit you, but you were coming at me. I made a mistake and +I'm sorry." + +"I'll smash your goddam skull." + +"Maybe you will," Frank said grimly. "But you'll work for it. It won't +come easy." + +A new voice bit across the room. "Cut it out. I'll do the killing. +That's what I like best. Everybody quiet down." + +They turned and saw a slim, pale-skinned young man in the open doorway. +The door had opened quietly and no one had heard it. Now the pale young +man was standing in the room with a small, nickle-plated revolver in his +right hand. + +The left hand was close down at his side. It was swathed generously in +white bandage. + +The young man chuckled. "The last four people in the world were in a +room," he said, "and there was a knock on the door." + +His chuckle deepened to one of pure merriment. "Only there wasn't a +knock. A man just walked in with a gun that made him boss." + +No one moved. No one spoke. The man waited, then went on: "My name is +Leroy Davis. I lived out west and I always had a keeper because they +said I wasn't quite right. They wanted me to pull out with the rest of +them, but I slugged my keeper and here I am." + +"Put down the gun and we'll talk it over," Frank said. "We're all in +this together." + +"No, we aren't. I've got a gun, so that makes me top man. You're all in +it together, but I'm not. I'm the boss, and which one of you tried to +cut my hand off last night." + +"You tried to break in here yelling and screaming like a madman. I held +the door. What else could I do?" + +"It's all right. I'm not mad. My type--we may be nuts, but we never hold +a grudge. I can't remember much about last night. I found some whisky in +a place down the street and whisky drives me nuts. I don't know what I'm +doing when I drink whisky. They say once about five years ago I got +drunk and killed a little kid, but I don't remember." + +Nobody spoke. + +"I got out of it. They got me out some way. High priced lawyers got me +out. Cost my dad a pile." + +Hysteria had been piling up inside of Nora. She had held it back, but +now a little of it spurted out from between her set teeth. "Do +something, somebody. _Isn't anybody going to do anything?_" + +Leroy Davis blinked at her. "There's nothing they can do, honey," he +said in a kindly voice. "I've got the gun. They'd be crazy to try +anything." + +Nora's laugh was like the rattle of dry peas. She sat down on the bed +and looked up at the ceiling and laughed. "It's crazy. It's all so +crazy! We're sitting here in a doomed city with some kind of alien +invaders all around us and we don't know what they look like. They +haven't hurt us at all. We don't even know what they look like. We don't +worry a bit about them because we're too busy trying to kill each +other." + +Frank Brooks took Nora by the arm. "Stop it! Quit laughing like that!" + +Nora shook him off. "Maybe we need someone to take us over. It's all +pretty crazy!" + +"Stop it." + +Nora's eyes dulled down as she looked at Frank. She dropped her head and +seemed a little ashamed of herself. "I'm sorry. I'll be quiet." + +Jim Wilson had been standing by the wall looking first at the newcomer, +then back at Frank Brooks. Wilson seemed confused as to who his true +enemy really was. Finally he took a step toward Leroy Davis. + +Frank Brooks stopped him with a motion, but kept his eyes on Davis. +"Have you seen anybody else?" + +Davis regarded Frank with long, careful consideration. His eyes were +bright and birdlike. They reminded Frank of a squirrel's eyes. Davis +said, "I bumped into an old man out on Halstead Street. He wanted to +know where everybody had gone. He asked me, but I didn't know." + +"What happened to the old man?" Nora asked. She asked the question as +though dreading to do it; but as though some compulsion forced her to +speak. + +"I shot him," Davis said cheerfully. "It was a favor, really. Here was +this old man staggering down the street with nothing but a lot of wasted +years to show for his efforts. He was no good alive, and he didn't have +the courage to die." Davis stopped and cocked his head brightly. "You +know--I think that's what's been wrong with the world. Too many people +without the guts to die, and a law against killing them." + +It had now dawned upon Jim Wilson that they were faced by a maniac. His +eyes met those of Frank Brooks and they were--on this point at least--in +complete agreement. A working procedure sprang up, unworded, between +them. Jim Wilson took a slow, casual step toward the homicidal maniac. + +"You didn't see anyone else?" Frank asked. + +Davis ignored the question. "Look at it this way," he said. "In the old +days they had Texas long horns. Thin stringy cattle that gave up meat as +tough as leather. Do we have cattle like that today? No. Because we bred +out the weak line." + +Frank said, "There are some cigarettes on that table if you want one." + +Jim Wilson took another slow step toward Davis. + +Davis said, "We bred with intelligence, with a thought to what a steer +was for and we produced a walking chunk of meat as wide as it is long." + +"Uh-huh," Frank said. + +"Get the point? See what I'm driving at? Humans are more important than +cattle, but can we make them breed intelligently? Oh, no! That +interferes with damn silly human liberties. You can't tell a man he can +only have two kids. It's his God-given right to have twelve when the +damn moron can't support three. Get what I mean?" + +"Sure--sure, I get it." + +"You better think it over, mister--and tell that fat bastard to quit +sneaking up on me or I'll blow his brains all over the carpet!" + +If the situation hadn't been so grim it would have appeared ludicrous. +Jim Wilson, feeling success almost in his grasp, was balanced on tiptoe +for a lunge. He teetered, almost lost his balance and fell back against +the wall. + +"Take it easy," Frank said. + +"I'll take it easy," Davis replied. "I'll kill every goddam one of +you--" he pointed the gun at Jim Wilson "--starting with him." + +"Now wait a minute," Frank said. "You're unreasonable. What right have +you got to do that? What about the law of survival? You're standing +there with a gun on us. You're going to kill us. Isn't it natural to try +anything we can to save our own lives?" + +A look of admiration brightened Davis' eyes. "Say! I like you. You're +all right. You're logical. A man can talk to you. If there's anything I +like it's talking to a logical man." + +"Thanks." + +"Too bad I'm going to have to kill you. We could sit down and have some +nice long talks together." + +"Why do you want to kill us?" Minna asked. She had not spoken before. In +fact, she had spoken so seldom during the entire time they'd been +together that her voice was a novelty to Frank. He was inclined to +discount her tirade on the floor with Wilson's head in her lap. She had +been a different person then. Now she had lapsed back into her old +shell. + +Davis regarded thoughtfully. "Must you have a reason?" + +"You should have a reason to kill people." + +Davis said, "All right, if it will make you any happier. I told you +about killing my keeper when they tried to make me leave town. He got in +the car, behind the wheel. I got into the back seat and split his skull +with a tire iron." + +"What's that got to do with us?" + +"Just this. Tommy was a better person than anyone of you or all of you +put together. If he had to die, what right have you got to live? Is that +enough of a reason for you?" + +"This is all too damn crazy," Jim Wilson roared. He was on the point of +leaping at Davis and his gun. + +At that moment, from the north, came a sudden crescendo of the weird +invader wailings. It was louder than it had previously been but did not +seem nearer. + +The group froze, all ears trained upon the sound. "They're talking +again," Nora whispered. + +"Uh-huh," Frank replied. "But it's different this time. As if--" + +"--as if they were getting ready for something," Nora said. "Do you +suppose they're going to move south?" + +Davis said, "I'm not going to kill you here. We're going down stairs." + +The pivotal moment, hinged in Jim Wilson's mind, that could have changed +the situation, had come and gone. The fine edge of additional madness +that would make a man hurl himself at a loaded gun, was dulled. Leroy +Davis motioned pre-emptorily toward Minna. + +"You first--then the other babe. You walk side by side down the hall +with the men behind you. Straight down to the lobby." + +They complied without resistance. There was only Jim Wilson's scowl, +Frank Brooks' clouded eyes, and the white, taut look of Nora. + +Nora's mind was not on the gun. It was filled with thoughts of the pale +maniac who held it. He was in command. Instinctively, she felt that +maniacs in command have one of but two motivations--sex and murder. Her +reaction to possible murder was secondary. But what if this man insisted +upon laying his hands upon her. What if he forced her into the age old +thing she had done so often? Nora shuddered. But it was also in her mind +to question, and be surprised at the reason for her revulsion. She +visualized the hands upon her body--the old familiar things, and the +taste in her mouth was one of horror. + +She had never experienced such shrinkings before. Why now. Had she +herself changed? Had something happened during the night that made the +past a time of shame? Or was it the madman himself? She did not know. + +Nora returned from her musings to find herself standing in the empty +lobby. Leroy Davis, speaking to Frank, was saying, "You look kind of +tricky to me. Put your hands on your head. Lock your fingers together +over your head and keep your hands there." + +Jim Wilson was standing close to the mute Minna. She had followed all +the orders without any show of anger, with no outward expression. Always +she had kept her eyes on Jim Wilson. Obviously, whatever Jim ordered, +she would have done without question. + +Wilson leaned his head down toward her. He said, "Listen, baby, there's +something I keep meaning to ask but I always forget it. What's your last +name?" + +"Trumble--Minna Trumble. I thought I told you." + +"Maybe you did. Maybe I didn't get it." + +Nora felt the hysteria welling again. "How long are you going to keep +doing this?" she asked. + +Leroy Davis cocked his head as he looked at her. "Doing what?" + +"Play cat and mouse like this. Holding us on a pin like flies in an +exhibit." + +Leroy Davis smiled brightly. "Like a butterfly in your case, honey. A +big, beautiful butterfly." + +"What are you going to do," Frank Brooks snapped. "Whatever it is, let's +get it over with?" + +"Can't you see what I'm doing?" Davis asked with genuine wonder. "Are +you that stupid? I'm being the boss. I'm in command and I like it. I +hold life and death over four people and I'm savoring the thrill of it. +You're pretty stupid, mister, and if you use that 'can't get away with +it' line, I'll put a bullet into your left ear and watch it come out +your right one." + +Jim Wilson's fists were doubled. He was again approaching the reckless +point. And again it was dulled by the gradually increasing sound of a +motor--not in the air, but from the street level to the south. + +It was a sane, cheerful sound and was resented instantly by the insane +mind of Leroy Davis. + +He tightened even to the point that his face grew more pale from the +tension. He backed to a window, looked out quickly, and turned back. +"It's a jeep," he said. "They're going by the hotel. If anybody makes a +move, or yells, they'll find four bodies in here and me gone. That's +what I'm telling you and you know I'll do it." + +They knew he _would_ do it and they stood silent, trying to dredge up +the nerve to make a move. The jeep's motor backfired a couple of times +as it approached Madison Street. Each time, Leroy Davis' nerves reacted +sharply and the four people kept their eyes trained on the gun in his +hand. + +The jeep came to the intersection and slowed down. There was a +conference between its two occupants--helmeted soldiers in dark brown +battle dress. Then the jeep moved on up Clark Street toward Lake. + +A choked sigh escaped from Nora's throat. Frank Brooks turned toward +her. "Take it easy," he said. "We're not dead yet. I don't think he +wants to kill us." + +The reply came from Minna. She spoke quietly. "I don't care. I can't +stand any more of this. After all, we aren't animals. We're human beings +and we have a right to live and die as we please." + +Minna walked toward Leroy Davis. "I'm not afraid of your gun any more. +All you can do with it is kill me. Go ahead and do it." + +Minna walked up to Leroy Davis. He gaped at her and said, "You're crazy! +Get back there. You're a crazy dame!" + +He fired the gun twice and Minna died appreciating the incongruity of +his words. She went out on a note of laughter and as she fell, Jim +Wilson, with an echoing animal roar, lunged at Leroy Davis. His great +hand closed completely over that of Davis, hiding the gun. There was a +muffled explosion and the bullet cut unnoticed through Wilson's palm. +Wilson jerked the gun from Davis' weak grasp and hurled it away. Then he +killed Davis. + +He did it slowly, a surprising thing for Wilson. He lifted Davis by his +neck and held him with his feet off the floor. He squeezed Davis' neck, +seeming to do it with great leisure as Davis made horrible noises and +kicked his legs. + +Nora turned her eyes away, buried them in Frank Brooks' shoulder, but +she could not keep the sounds from reaching her ears. Frank held her +close. "Take it easy," he said. "Take it easy." And he was probably not +conscious of saying it. + +"Tell him to hurry," Nora whispered. "Tell him to get it over with. It's +like killing--killing an animal." + +"That's what he is--an animal." + +Frank Brooks stared in fascination at Leroy Davis' distorted, darkening +face. It was beyond semblance of anything human now. The eyes bulged and +the tongue came from his mouth as though frantically seeking relief. + +The animal sounds quieted and died away. Nora heard the sound of the +body falling to the floor--a limp, soft sound of finality. She turned +and saw Jim Wilson with his hands still extended and cupped. The +terrible hands from which the stench of a terrible life was drifting +away into empty air. + +Wilson looked down at his handiwork. "He's dead," Wilson said slowly. He +turned to face Frank and Nora. There was a great disappointment in his +face. "That's all there is to it," he said, dully. "He's just--dead." +Without knowing it for what it was, Jim Wilson was full of the futile +aftertaste of revenge. + +He bent down to pick up Minna's body. There was a small blue hole in the +right cheek and another one over the left eye. With a glance at Frank +and Nora, Jim Wilson covered the wounds with his hand as though they +were not decent. He picked her up in his arms and walked across the +lobby and up the stairs with the slow, quiet tread of a weary man. + +The sound of the jeep welled up again, but it was further away now. +Frank Brooks took Nora's hand and they hurried out into the street. As +they crossed the sidewalk, the sound of the jeep was drowned by a sudden +swelling of the wailings to the northward. + +On still a new note, they rose and fell on the still air. A note of +panic, of new knowledge, it seemed, but Frank and Nora were not paying +close attention. The sounds of the jeep motor had come from the west and +they got within sight of the Madison-Well intersection in time to see +the jeep hurtle southward at its maximum speed. + +Frank yelled and waved his arms, but he knew he had been neither seen +nor heard. They were given little time for disappointment however, +because a new center of interest appeared to the northward. From around +the corner of Washington Street, into Clark, moved three strange +figures. + +There was a mixture of belligerence and distress in their actions. They +carried odd looking weapons and seemed interested in using them upon +something or someone, but they apparently lacked the energy to raise +them although they appeared to be rather light. + +The creatures themselves were humanoid, Frank thought. He tightened his +grip on Nora's hand. "They've seen us." + +"Let's not run," Nora said. "I'm tired of running. All it's gotten us is +trouble. Let's just stand here." + +"Don't be foolish." + +"I'm not running. You can if you want to." + +Frank turned his attention back to the three strange creatures. He +allowed natural curiosity full reign. Thoughts of flight vanished from +his mind. + +"They're so thin--so fragile," Nora said. + +"But their weapons aren't." + +"It's hard to believe, even seeing them, that they're from another +planet." + +"How so? They certainly don't look much like us." + +"I mean with the talk, for so long, about flying saucers and space +flight and things like that. Here they are, but it doesn't seem +possible." + +"There's something wrong with them." + +This was true. Two of the strange beings had fallen to the sidewalk. The +third came doggedly on, dragging one foot after the other until he went +to his hands and knees. He remained motionless for a long time, his head +hanging limply. Then he too, sank to the cement and lay still. + +The wailings from the north now took on a tone of intense agony--great +desperation. After that came a yawning silence. + + * * * * * + +"They defeated themselves," the military man said. "Or rather, natural +forces defeated them. We certainly had little to do with it." + +Nora, Frank, and Jim Wilson stood at the curb beside a motorcycle. The +man on the cycle supported it with a leg propped against the curb as he +talked. + +"We saw three of them die up the street," Frank said. + +"Our scouting party saw the same thing happen. That's why we moved in. +It's about over now. We'll know a lot more about them and where they +came from in twenty-four hours." + +They had nothing further to say. The military man regarded them +thoughtfully. "I don't know about you three. If you ignored the +evacuation through no fault of your own and can prove it--" + +"There were four of us," Jim Wilson said. "Then we met another man. He's +inside on the floor. I killed him." + +"Murder?" the military man said sharply. + +"He killed a woman who was with us," Frank said. "He was a maniac. When +he's identified I'm pretty sure he'll have a past record." + +"Where is the woman's body?" + +"On a bed upstairs," Wilson said. + +"I'll have to hold all of you. Martial law exists in this area. You're +in the hands of the army." + + * * * * * + +The streets were full of people now, going about their business, pushing +and jostling, eating in the restaurants, making electricity for the +lights, generating power for the telephones. + +Nora, Frank, and Jim Wilson sat in a restaurant on Clark Street. "We're +all different people now," Nora said. "No one could go through what +we've been through and be the same." + +Jim Wilson took her statement listlessly. "Did they find out what it was +about our atmosphere that killed them?" + +"They're still working on that, I think." Frank Brooks stirred his +coffee, raised a spoonful and let it drip back into the cup. + +"I'm going up to the Chicago Avenue police station," Wilson said. + +Frank and Nora looked up in surprise. Frank asked, "Why? The military +court missed it--the fact you escaped from jail." + +"They didn't miss it I don't think. I don't think they cared much. I'm +going back anyway." + +"It won't be much of a rap." + +"No, a pretty small one. I want to get it over with." + +He got up from his chair. "So long. Maybe I'll see you around." + +"So long." + +"Goodbye." + +Frank said, "I think I'll beat it too. I've got a job in a factory up +north. Maybe they're operating again." He got to his feet and stood +awkwardly by the table. "Besides--I've got some pay coming." + +Nora didn't say anything. + +Frank said, "Well--so long. Maybe I'll see you around." + +"Maybe. Goodbye." + + * * * * * + +Frank Brooks walked north on Clark Street. He was glad to get away from +the restaurant. Nora was a good kid but hell--you didn't take up with a +hooker. A guy played around, but you didn't stick with them. + +But it made a guy think. He was past the kid stage. It was time for him +to find a girl and settle down. A guy didn't want to knock around all +his life. + + * * * * * + +Nora walked west on Madison Street. Then she remembered the Halstead +Street slums were in that direction and turned south on Wells. She had +nine dollars in her bag and that worried her. You couldn't get along on +nine dollars in Chicago very long. + +There was a tavern on Jackson near Wells. Nora went inside. The barkeep +didn't frown at her. That was good. She went to the bar and ordered a +beer and was served. + +After a while a man came in. A middle aged man who might have just come +into Chicago--whose bags might still be at the LaSalle Street Station +down the block. The man looked at Nora, then away. After a while looked +at her again. + +Nora smiled. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Deadly City, by Paul W. 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