He released the flare.

It hovered, like a dying star, for about half a minute.

He lit a cigarette as he stared back, and he waited.

He finished the cigarette.

Then, "Nothing," he said. "Maybe they couldn't spotit through the storm. Or maybe we couldn't see theirs."

"I hope so," said Greg.

"How long do you want to wait?"

"Let's have that coffee."

An hour passed, then two. The pillars began to collapseuntil there were only three of the slimmer ones. Theymoved off toward the east and were gone from sight.

Tanner released another flare, and still there was no response.

"We'd better go back and look for them," said Greg.

"Okay."

And they did.

There was nothing there, though, nothing to indicatethe fate of car three.

Dawn occurred in the east before they had finishedwith their searching, and Tanner turned the car around,checked the compass, and moved north.

"When do you think we'll hit Salt Lake?" Greg askedhim, after a long silence.

"Maybe two hours."

"Were you scared, back when you ran those things?"

"No. Afterward, though, I didn't feel so good."

Greg nodded. '

"You want me to drive again?"

"No. I won't be able to sleep if I stop now. We'll takein more gas in Salt Lake, and we can get somethingto eat while a mechanic checks over the car. Then I'll putus on the right road, and you can take over while I sackout."

The sky was purple again and the black bands hadwidened. Tanner cursed and drove faster. He fired hisventral flame at two bats who decided to survey the car.They fell back, and he accepted the mug of coffee Gregoffered him.

VIII The sky was as dark as evening when they pulled intoSalt Lake City. John Brady—that was his name—hadpassed that way but days before, and the city was readyfor the responding vehicle. Most of its ten thousand inhabitants appeared along the street, and before Hell andGreg had jumped down from the cab after pulling intothe first garage they saw, the hood of car number twowas opened and three mechanics were peering at theengine.

They abandoned the idea of eating in the little dineracross the street. Too many people hit them with toomany questions as soon as they set foot outside thegarage. They retreated and s^ent someone after eggs,bacon and toast.

There was cheering as they rolled forth onto the streetand sped away into the east.

"Could have used a beer," said Tanner. "Damn it!"

And they rushed along beside the remains of what hadonce been U.S. Route 40.

Tanner relinquished the driver's seat and stretched outon the passenger side of the cab. The sky continued todarken above them, taking upon it the appearance it hadhad in L.A. the day before.

"Maybe we can outrun it," Greg said.

"Hope so."

The blue pulse began in the north, flared into a brilliant aurora. The sky was almost black directly overhead.

"Runi" cried Tanner. "Run! Those are bills up ahead!Maybe we can find an overhang or a cavel"

But it broke upon them before they reached the hills.First came the hail, then the flak. The big stones followed,and the scanner on the right went dead. The sandsblasted them, and they rode beneath a celestial waterfallthat caused the engine to sputter and cough.

They reached the shelter of the hills, though, andfound a place within a rocky valley where the wallsjutted steeply forward and broke the main force of thewind/sand/dust/rock/water storm. They sat there as thewinds screamed and boomed about them. They smokedand they listened.

"We won't make it," said Greg. "You were right. Ithought we had a chance. We don't. Everything's againstus, even the weather."

"We've got a chance," said Tanner. "Maybe not areal good one. But we've been lucky so far. Remember that."

Greg spat into the waste container.

"Why the sudden optimism? From you?"

"I was mad before and shooting off my mouth. Well,I'm still mad—but I got me a feeling now: I feel lucky.

That's all."

Greg laughed. "The hell with luck. Look out there," he said.

"I see it," said Tanner. "This buggy is built to take it,and it's doing it. Also, we're only getting about ten percent of its full strength."

"Okay, but what difference does it make? It couldlast for a couple days."

"So we wait it out."

"Wait too long, and even that ten percent can smashus. Wait too long, and even if it doesn't there'll be noreason left to go ahead. Try driving, though, and it'll flatten us."

"It'll take me ten or fifteen minutes to fix that scanner. We've got spare 'eyes.' If the storm lasts more thansix hours, we'll start out anyway."

"Says who?"

"Me."

"Why? You're the one who was so hot on saving hisown neck. How come all of a sudden you're willing to risk it, not to mention mine too?"

Tanner smoked awhile, then said, "I've been thinking," and then he didn't say anything else.

"About what?" Greg' asked him.

"Those folks in Boston," Tanner said. "Maybe it isworth it. I don't know. They never did anything for me.But hell, I like action and I'd hate to see the whole worldget dead. I think I'd like to see Boston, too, just to seewhat it's like. It might even be fun being a hero, just tosee what that's like. Don't get me wrong. I don't give adamn about anybody up there. It's just that I don't likethe idea of everything being like the Alley here—allburned-out and screwed up and full of crap. When welost the other car back in those tornadoes, it made mestart thinking. ... I'd hate to see everybody go that way—everything. I might still cop out if I get a real goodchance, but I'm just telling you how I feel now. That'sall."

Greg looked away and laughed, a little more heartilythan usual.

"I never suspected you contained such philosophicdepths."

"Me neither. I'm tired. Tell me about your brothersand sisters, huh?"

"Okay."

Four hours later when the storm slackened and therocks became dust and the rain fog. Tanner replaced theright scanner, and they moved on out, passing laterthrough Rocky Mountain National Park. The dust andthe fog combined to limit visibility, throughout the day.That evening they skirted the ruin that was Denver,and Tanner took over as they headed toward the placethat had once been called Kansas.

He drove all night, and in the morning the sky wasclearer than it bad been in days. He let Greg snore onand sorted through his thoughts while he sipped his coffee.

It was a strange feeling that came over him as he sat therewith his pardon in his pocket and his hands upon thewheel. The dust fumed at his back. The sky was the colorof rosebuds, and the dark trails had shrunken once again.He recalled the stories of the days when the missiles camedown, burning everything but the northeast and the southwest; the days when the winds arose and the clouds vanished and the sky had lost its blue; the days when thePanama Canal had been shattered and radios had ceasedto function; the days when the planes could no longer fly.He regretted this, for he had always wanted to fly, high,birdlike, swooping and soaring. He felt slightly cold, andthe screens now seemed to possess a crystal clarity, likepools of tinted water. Somewhere ahead, far, far aheadlay what might be the only other sizeable pocket of humanity that remained on the shoulders of the world. Hemight be able to save it, if he could reach it in time. Helooked about him at the rocks and the sand and the sideof a broken garage that had somehow come to occupy theslope of a mountain. It remained within his mind longafter he had passed it. Shattered, fallen down, half covered with debris, it took on a stark and monstrous form,like a decaying skull which had once occupied the shoulders of a giant; and he pressed down hard on the accelerator, although it could go no further. He began to tremble.The sky brightened, but he did not touch the screen controls. Why did he have to be the one? He saw a mass ofsmoke ahead and to the right. As he drew nearer, he sawthat it rose from a mountain which had lost its top andnow held a nest of fires in its place. He cut to the left, going miles, many miles, out of the way he bad intended.Occasionally, the ground shook beneath his wheels. Ashesfell about him, but now the smouldering cone was far tothe rear of the right-hand screen. He wondered after thedays that had gone before and the few things that he actually knew about them. If he made it through, be decidedhe'd leam more about history. He threaded his waythrough painted canyons and forded a shallow river. Nobody had ever asked him to do anything important before,and he hoped that nobody ever would again. Now, though,he was taken by the feeling that he could do it. He wantedto do it. Damnation Alley lay all about him, burning,fuming, shaking, and if he could not run it then half theworld would die, and the chances would be doubled thatone day all the world would be part of the Alley. His tattoo stood stark on his whitened knuckles, saying "Hell,"and he knew that it was true. Greg still slept, the sleep ofexhaustion, and Tanner narrowed his eyes and chewed hisbeard and never touched the brake, not even when he sawthe rockslide beginning. He made it by and sighed. Thatpass was closed to him forever, but he had shot throughwithout a scratch. His mind was an expanding bubble, itssurfaces like the view-screens, registering everythingabout him. He felt the flow of the air within the cab andthe upward pressure of the pedal upon his foot His throatseemed dry, but it didn't matter. His eyes felt gooey attheir inside comers, but he didn't wipe them. He roaredacross the pocked plains of Kansas, and he knew now thathe had been sucked into the role completely and that hewanted it that way. Damn-his-eyes Denton had been rightIt had to be done. He halted when he came to the lip ofa chasm and headed north. Thirty miles later it ended,and he turned again to the south. Greg muttered in hissleep. It sounded like a curse. Tanner repeated it softly acouple times and turned toward the east as soon as alevel stretch occurred. The sun stood in high heaven, andTanner felt as though be were drifting bodiless beneath it,above the brown ground flaked with green spikes ofgrowth. He clenched his teeth and his mind went back toDenny, doubtless now in a hospital. Better than beingwhere the others had gone. He hoped the money he'd toldhim about was still there. Then he felt the ache begin, inthe places between his neck and his shoulders. It spreaddown into his arms, and be realized how tightly he wasgripping the wheeL He blinked and took a deep breathand realized that his eyeballs hurt. He lit a cigarette andit tasted foul, but he kept puffing at it. He drank somewater and he dimmed the rear view-screen as the sun fellbehind him. Then he heard a sound like a distant rumbleof thunder and was fully alert once more. He sat upstraight and took his foot off the accelerator.