Tanner nodded.

"You tried to cut out once. Now I don't blame you."

"You getting scared, Greg?"

"I'm no good to my family if I'm dead."

"Then why'd you agree to come along?"

"I didn't know it would be like this. You had bettersense, because you had an idea what it would be like."

"I had an idea.""Nobody can blame us if we fail. After all, we've tried."

"What about all those people in Boston you made me a speech about?"

"They're probably dead by now. The plague isn't athing that takes its time, you know?"

"What about that guy Brady? He died to get us the news."

"He tried, and God knows I respect the attempt. Butwe've already lost four guys. Now should we make it six,just to show that everybody tried?"

"Greg, we're a lot closer to Boston than we are to L.A.now. The tanks should have enough fuel in them to getus where we're going, but not to take us back from here."

"We can refuel in Salt Lake."

"I'm not even sure we could make it back to Salt Lake."

"Well, it'll only take a minute to figure it out. For thatmatter, though, we could take the bikes for the last hundred or so. They use & lot less gas,"

"And you're the guy who was calling me names.You're the citizen was wondering how people like mehappen. You asked me what they ever did to me, I toldyou, too: Nothing. Now maybe I want to do somethingfor them, just because I feel like it. I've been doing a lotof thinking.**"You ain't supporting any family. Hell. I've got otherpeople to worry about beside myself.

"You've got a nice way of putting things when youwant to chicken out. You say I'm not really scared, butI've got my mother and my brothers and sisters to worryabout, and I got a chick I'm hot on. That's why I'm backing down. No other reason,

"And that's right, too! I don't understand you. Hell!I don't understand you at all! You're the one who putthis idea in my head in the first place!""So give it back, and let's get moving."He saw Greg's hand slither toward the gun on the door,so he flipped his cigarette into his face and managed tohit him once, in the stomach—a weak, left-handed blow,but it was the best he could manage from that position.

Then Greg threw himself upon him, and he felt himself borne back into his seat. They wrestled, and Greg'sfingers clawed their way up to his face toward his eyes.

Tanner got his arms free above the elbows, seizedGreg's head, twisted and shoved with all his strength.Greg hit the dashboard, went stiff, then went slack.Tanner banged his head against it twice more, just to besure he wasn't faking. Then he pushed him away andmoved back into the driver's seat. He checked all thescreens while he caught his breath. There was nothingmenacing approaching.

He fetched cord from the utility chest and boundGreg's hands behind his back. He tied his ankles togetherand ran a line from them to his wrists. Then he positioned him in the seat, reclined it pan way and tied himin place within it.

He put the car into gear and headed toward Ohio.Two hours later Greg began to moan, and Tannerturned the music up to drown him out. Landscape hadappeared once more: grass and trees, fields of green,orchards of apples, apples still small and green, whitefarm houses and brown barns and red barns far removedfrom the roadway he raced along; rows of corn, greenand swaying, brown tassels already visible and obviouslytended by someone; fences of split timber, green hedges; lofty, star-leafed maples, fresh-looking road signs, agreen-shingled steeple from which the sound of a bellcame forth.

The lines in the sky widened, but the sky itself did notdarken, as it usually did before a storm. So he drove oninto the afternoon, until he reached the Dayton Abyss.

He looked down into the fog-shrouded canyon that hadcaused him to halt. He scanned to the left and the right,decided upon the left and headed north.

Again, the radiation level was high. And he hurried.slowing only to skirt the crevices, chasms and canyonsthat emanated from that dark, deep center. Thick yellow vapors seeped forth from some of these and filled theair before him. At one point they were all about him,like a clinging, sulphurous cloud, and a breeze came andparted them. Involuntarily then, he hit the brake, andthe car jerked and halted and Greg moaned once more.He stared at the thing for the few seconds that it wasvisible, then slowly moved forward again.

The sight was not duplicated for the whole of hispassage, but it did not easily go from out of his mind,and he could not explain it where he had seen it. Yellow, hanging and grinning, he had seen a crucified skeleton there beside the Abyss. People, he decided. That explains everything.

When he left the region of fogs the sky was still dark.He did not realize for a time that he was in the open oncemore. It had taken him close to four hours to skirt Dayton, and now as he headed across a blasted heath, goingeast again, he saw for a moment, a tiny piece of the sun,like a sickle, fighting its way ashore on the northernbank of a black river in the sky, and failing.

His lights were turned up to their fullest intensity, andas he realized what might follow he looked in every direction for shelter.

There was an old barn on a hill, and he raced towardit. One side had caved in, and the doors had fallen down.He edged in, however, and the interior was moist andmoldy looking under his lights. He saw a skeleton whichhe guessed to be that of a horse within a fallen-downstall.

He parked and turned off his lights and waited.

Soon the wailing came again and drowned out Greg'soccasional moans and mutterings. There came anothersound, not hard and heavy like gunfire, as that which hehad heard in L.A., but gentle, steady and almost purring- He cracked the door, to hear it better.

Nothing assailed him, so he stepped down from thecab and walked back a way. The radiation level was almost normal, so he didn't bother with his protectivesuit. He walked back toward the fallen doors and lookedoutside. He wore the pistol behind his belt.

Something gray descended in droplets and the sunfought itself partly free once more.

It was rain, pure and simple. He had never seen rain,pure and simple, before. So he lit a cigarette andwatched it fall.

It came down with only an occasional rumbling andnothing else accompanied it. The sky was still a bluishcolor beyond the bands of black.

It fell all about him. It ran down the frame to his left.A random gust of wind blew some droplets into his face,and he realized that they were water, nothing more.Puddles formed on the ground outside. He tossed a chunkof wood into one and saw it splash and float. From somewhere high up inside the barn he heard the sounds ofbirds. He smelied the sick-sweet smell of decaying straw.Off in the shadows to his right he saw a rusted threshingmachine. Some feathers drifted down about him, and hecaught one in his hand and studied it. Light, dark, fluffy,ribbed. He'd never really looked at a feather before. Itworked almost like a zipper, the way the individualbranches clung to one another. He let it go, and the windcaught it, and it vanished somewhere toward bis back.He looked out once more, and back along his trail. Hecould probably drive through what was coming downnow. But he realized Just how tired he was. He found abarrel and sat down on it and lit another cigarette.

It had been a good run so far; and he found himselfthinking about its last stages. He couldn't trust Greg forawhile yet. Not until they were so far that there could beno turning back. Then they'd need each other so badlythat he could turn him loose. He hoped he hadn't scrambled his brains completely. He didn't know what morethe Alley held. If the storms were less from here on in,however, that would be a big help.