Deadly City

by Paul W. Fairman

with marked bitterness. "I'm afraid youwouldn't be very comfortable in with me."

  There was a time of silence. Frank took off his jacket, shirt andtrousers. 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 alonewith a girl. And a girl not nearly as nice as Nora at that. Now, here hewas alone with a real dream, and he was tongue-tied. It didn't makesense. He shrugged. Life was crazy sometimes.

  He heard the rustle of garments and wondered how much Nora was takingoff. Then he dropped his trousers, forgotten, to the floor. "Did youhear that?"

  "Yes. It's that--"

  Frank went to the window, raised the sash. The moaning sound came inlouder, but it was from far distance. "I think that's out aroundEvanston."

  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 incomplete silence. Although their ears were straining for the soundcoming down from the north, Frank could not be oblivious of the warmflesh under his hand.

  Nora's breathing was soft against his cheek. She said, "Listen to how itrises 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 outthat the city was going to blow up--that a bomb had been planted thatthey couldn't find, or something like that. Now, I'm pretty sure it'ssomething 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 somekind of invaders are coming down from the north--isn't it stupid to stayhere? 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 tothe door. Then he remembered he was in his shorts and went back and gothis trousers. After he'd put them on, he wondered why he'd bothered. Heopened the door.

  Something warned him--some instinct--or possibly his natural fear andcaution coincided with the presence of danger. He heard the footsteps onthe carpeting down the hall--soft, but unmistakably footsteps. Hecalled, "Wilson--Wilson--that you?"

  The creature outside threw caution to the winds, Frank sensed ratherthan heard a body hurtling toward the door. A shrill, mad laughter rakedhis ears and the weight of a body hit the door.

  Frank drew strength from pure panic as he threw his weight against thepanel, but perhaps an inch or two from the latch the door wavered fromopposing strength. Through the narrow opening he could feel the hoarsebreath of exertion in his face. Insane giggles and curses soundedthrough the black stillness.

  Frank had the wild conviction he was losing the battle, and addedstrength came from somewhere. He heaved and there was a scream and heknew he had at least one finger caught between the door and the jamb. Hethrew his weight against the door with frenzied effort and heard thesquash of the finger. The voice kited up to a shriek of agony, like thatof a wounded animal.

  Even with his life at stake, and the life of Nora, Frank could notdeliberately 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 voiceboomed: "What the hell's going on out here?"

  Simultaneous with this, racing footsteps receded down the hall and fromthe 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 goafter that coot in the dark. He'll keep 'til morning."

  Frank closed the door, double-locked it and went back to Nora's bed. Hecould hear a soft sobbing. He reached down and pulled back the coversand the sobbing came louder. Then he was down on the bed and she was inhis 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," shebegged. "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 theother'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. BecauseI'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'mtelling you? I'm no good! I'm just a bum! Other men have had me! Whyshouldn't you? Why should you be cheated out of what other men havehad?"

  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 thenext 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 kindof 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 slippedme the mickey--the night before I woke up to this tomb of a city. Butnow--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 ofthe sepulchral night. After a long while, Nora's even breathing told himshe was asleep. He got up quietly, covered her, and went to the otherbed.

  But before he slept, the weird wailings from out Evanston way cameagain--rose and fell in that strange conversational cadence--then diedaway into nothing.

  * * * * *

  Frank awoke to the first fingers of daylight. Nora still slept. Hedressed and stood for some moments with his hand on the door knob. Thenhe threw the bolt and cautiously opened the door.

  The hallway was deserted. At this point it came to him forcibly that hewas not a brave man. All his life, he realized, he had avoided physicaldanger and had refused to recognize the true reason for so doing. He hadclassified himself as a man who dodged trouble through good sense; thatthe truly civilized person went out of his way to keep the peace.

  He realized now that that attitude was merely salve for his ego. Hefaced the empty corridor and did not wish to proceed further. Butstripped of the life-long alibi, he forced himself to walk through thedoorway, close the door softly, and move toward the stairs.

  He paused in front of the door behind which Jim Wilson and Minna were nodoubt sleeping. He stared at it wistfully. It certainly would not be amark of cowardice to get Jim Wilson up under circumstances such asthese. In fact, he would be a fool not to do so.

  Stubbornness forbade such a move, however. He walked softly toward theplace where the hallway dead-ended and became a cross-corridor. He madethe 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 thelobby he was ready to jump sky-high at the drop of a pin.

  But no
one dropped any pins, and he reached the modernistic glassdoorway to the drugstore with only silence screaming in his ears. Thedoor was unlocked. One hinge squeaked slightly as he pushed the doorinward.

  It was in the drugstore that Frank found signs of the fourth-floorintruder. An inside counter near the prescription department was redwith blood. Bandages and first-aid supplies had been unboxed and thrownaround with abandon. Here the man had no doubt administered to hissmashed 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 gunleft in the