When the Sleepers Woke
Page 6
refuge, and we never thought to stock with it the discarded rooms in our own apartments.
We have talked it over, and have decided that you must have that eight months' extra chance. And so, dear daughter, this must be farewell.
When the gas is gone Anthony will come to seek us, if he still lives. You will know him by the white robe of metal fabric he will wear, with its black girdle. Trust yourself to him; he was our friend. If all the food has been consumed, and he still has not come, open the door. But fate will not be so cruel to you.
We are weary of the long waiting, Naomi. Do not grieve for us. We shall go out into the gas hand in hand, and release will be welcome.
God guard you.
* * * * *
Allan was deeply moved by the love and sacrifice so simply worded. Helooked at the girl, and had to blink away a mist that hazed his sightbefore he could see her. "I see," he said. "When the year ended andAnthony had not come, you opened the door--"
"And the gas was gone. Then I heard someone moving far down thecorridor. I was so happy. Who could it be but Anthony? I called. Ahairy, black giant came running, bellowing in some strange language. Iwas terribly frightened: I think I screamed, and tried to shut thedoor. But he was too quick for me: he was in the room, and his filthypaws reached out for me. I screamed again, dodged away from him. Hepursued me. I threw myself backward, tripped, and fell. My headcrashed against the floor.
"The next thing I knew I was here, and you were twisted and jammedthere in front of me. At first I wanted to run, then I saw your robe.I dragged you out. Then I spied that other pile of wreckage, and Ithought you too were dead...." She covered her face with her hands.
* * * * *
Allan turned his head, saw for the first time the crumpled debris ofthe black ship, a hundred feet away, saw stark forms. "There's nothingto be afraid of now," he said. "It's all over. We'll soon be with yourfather's friend, with Anthony."
A little smile of reassurance trembled on the girls lips. "Oh, do youthink so?"
Allan nodded.
"Sure thing! Just trust to me, Miss ...?"
"Call me Naomi."
"I'm Allan." The pilot thrust out his big hand, full fleshed now, anda little white one fluttered into it. An electric thrill rippled atthe contact, and the two hands clung. The girl gave a little gasp, andpink flushed her cheeks.
Naomi shivered a little, and Allan realized that a chill breeze wassweeping across the roof-tops and that daylight was almost gone. "Lookhere, partner, we'd better get started, somewhere." He pulled himselfto his feet. Pain shot through him and his head still throbbed. "I'dbetter take a look at that." He gestured to the wreck of the Easternship. "You wait here."
When he returned his face was pallid, and there was a sick look in hiseyes. The girl asked sharply: "What is it? What's wrong? Tell me,Allan!"
He looked at her grimly, started to say something, thought better ofit. Then: "It wasn't a pleasant sight." He shrugged. "Come on, let'ssee what we can find. We'll have to spend the night here, and startfor Sugar Loaf Mountain in the morning."
Once more Allan descended a narrow, spiral staircase into darkness andsilence. But this time someone was at his side, and a warmness ranthrough him at the thought.
* * * * *
The topmost floor of this building was a residential level. Like theone where he had found Naomi, a green mold covered everything, andpallid fungi, emitting a pale-green phosphorescence, clung to thewalls and ceiling of the long corridor. Apparently the dwellers herehad rushed out at the first alarm, had died elsewhere. "This is luck,"Allan said. "We shall have a comfortable place to sleep, and food isnot far away."
"How is that?"
"Why, the stores level is not far below. Most of New York's structureshave a number of residential levels at the top, then a floor of retailstores, and below that amusement places, offices, and factories."
"But whatever food there was must be decayed by this time."
"The fresh food, yes. But there was a lot of canned stuff, and that isprobably all right." He pushed open a door. In the eery light awell-furnished living room was revealed. "You wait here, and I'll seewhat I can rustle up."
"But I want to go with you."
Allan was inflexible. "Please do as I say. I have my reasons."
The girl turned away. "Oh, very well," she said flatly, "if you don'twant me with you."
"That's a good scout. I'll be back just as quickly as I can. And, bythe way, lock the door from the inside, and don't open it till youhear my voice."
The girl looked at him wonderingly. "But--" she began.
"Don't ask me why. Do it." There was a curious note in Allan's voice,one that cut off Naomi's question. The door shut, and Dane heard thebolt shoot home.
He stood in the corridor, listening intently, his face strained. Therewas no sound save that of Naomi's movements behind the locked door.Allan turned to search for the auxiliary staircase that must besomewhere near the bank of ascendor doors.
Silence was again around him, almost tangible in its heaviness. Hisfootsteps reverberated through dead halls, the echo curiously muffledby the coating of slime that spread dankly green. Allan found thestaircase well, descended cautiously, pausing often to listen. Noteven the faint scuttering of vermin rewarded him.
* * * * *
At last, three stories down, he reached the stores level. Here, in agreat open hall, were the numerous alcoved recesses of the shops. Oncethronged, and gaudy with the varicolored goods brought by plane andheavy-bellied rocket-freighter from both hemispheres, the vast spacewas a desert of moldering dust heaps, brooding. There was a faint odorin the stagnant air--of spices, and rustling silks, of rare perfumes,of all the luxury of the Golden Age that Man's folly had ended.
Allan searched the long shelves feverishly, a nervous urge to completehis task and get back to Naomi tingling in his veins. Once he stoppedsuddenly, his body twisting to the stair landing. He seemed to haveheard something, an indefinable thudding, the shadow of a sound. Butit did not come again, and he dismissed it as the thumping of his ownblood in his ears, audible in that stillness.
At the end of a long aisle, neat rows of cans greeted him, the labelsrotted off, the metal rust-streaked, but apparently tight and whole.He found a metal basket, a roll of wire, twisted a handle for thebasket and filled it, choosing the cans by their shape. He should haveliked to explore further, but the urge to return tugged at him. Hewent up the stairs three at a time.
There was a dark, oblong break in the long glowing wall of the uppercorridor! The door--it was the door of the apartment where he had leftNaomi! He leaped down the hall, shouting. The portal hung open,shattered: the rooms were stark, staring empty. Allan reeled outagain. There were the marks of footprints, of many footprints, in thegreen scum of the hall floor, their own among them, that had led themarauders straight to the girl!
Fool that he had been! He had thought she would be safer behind abolted door! Allan berated himself. He had thought not to worry her.There had been only four bodies in the wreckage of the blackplane--but how had the rest gotten here so soon?
There was a humming whine from above. Dane hurtled toward the roofstairs. He burst from the upper landing, fists clenched, face afurious mask. A helicopter was just rising. Allan jumped for it, hisfingers caught and clung to the undercarriage. But the down-swing ofhis body broke his hold, and Dane crashed to the roof.
* * * * *
He watched the plane, saw it zoom up, turn east, saw it sink and landa half mile away, atop the building where he had found her. In themoonlight he marked the direction of the place, its distance. Then hewas descending stairs, innumerable stairs. He could not hope to reachit in time to save Naomi. But--his eyes grew stony--he could avengeher.
Afterwards that nightmare journey through the murdered city was a
detailless blur to Allan. He clambered over heaped rubble, forcedhimself through windrows of piled bones that crumbled to dust at histouch. Vines, and whipping creepers of triumphant vegetationeverywhere halted him; he tore them away with bleeding hands andstumbled on. He fell, and scrambled up again, and plodded on theinterminable path till he had reached his goal.
Here, at last, some modicum of reason penetrated into the numbedblankness of his brain. The dark arch of the entrance-way was somehowfamiliar. Still legible under the verdigris of the bronze plate on thelintel he read, "Transportation Substation--District L2ZX." Now heunderstood why he had not seen the black flier till it had leaped inpursuit: how it was that Naomi's captors had so quickly found another'copter. A broad well penetrated the