Special Deliverance

18

“He escaped,” said the Brigadier. “Lansing, when he talked with you last night did he mention escape?”

“No, I’m sure he didn’t, but apparently he was hopeless. He said this place was Hell and he meant that it was Hell, the actual biblical Hell. He wasn’t simply swearing.”

“He was a weak man,” said the Brigadier. “He took the coward’s way out. He was the first of us to go.”

“You sound,” said Sandra, still tearful, “as if you expect others of us to go.”

“There are always casualties,” said the Brigadier. “One must count on casualties. Of course, you do your best to hold them down to an acceptable percentage.”

Lansing grimaced. “If you think of this as humor, let me say that it’s repugnant humor. You’ll get no laughs from us.”

“And now you’re going to tell us,” Mary said, “that we must carry on. Even with the Parson gone, we must carry on.”

“Of course we must,” said the Brigadier. “It’s our only chance. If we don’t find something here—”

“If we find something here, you’ll think it is a trap,” said Sandra. “You’ll be scared to use it. We can’t use the doors because they may be traps.”

“I’m sure they are,” said the Brigadier. “I don’t want to catch any of you trying to find out.”

“I looked through the peephole,” said Jurgens, “and there was no sign of him.”

“What did you expect to see?” asked the Brigadier. “Him standing there, thumbing his nose at us? As soon as he stepped through the door, he lit a shuck. He got out as fast as he could manage. He didn’t want to take a chance.”

“Maybe it was for the best,” said Mary. “He may be happy there. I remember his face when he first looked through the peephole. He looked happy, the only time I ever saw him happy. There was something in that world that appealed to him. To all of us, perhaps, but especially to him.”

“I remember,” said Lansing. “He was happy. It was the first time I ever saw him without the corners of his mouth pulled down.”

“So what do the two of you want us to do?” asked the Brigadier. “Line up in front of that door and all go marching through?”

“No,” said Mary. “It wouldn’t be right for us. But it was right for the Parson. It was the one way out for him. I hope that he is happy.”

“Happiness should not be our sole goal,” said the Brigadier.

“Nor is a death wish,” said Mary, “and that is what you have. I’m convinced this precious city of yours will kill us one by one. Edward and I are not about to stay and have that happen to us. Come morning, we are leaving.”

Lansing looked across the fire at her and for a moment felt the impulse to walk around the circle and take her in his arms. He did not do so; instead he stayed sitting where he was.

“The party can’t split up,” said the Brigadier, in a desperate tone. “The only strength we have lies in our staying together. You are giving way to panic.”

Sandra screamed, “It is all my fault! If I’d stayed and watched him.”

“It makes no matter,” said Jurgens, trying to comfort her. “He would have waited for his chance. If not today, then another day. He would not have rested until he tried that other world.”

“I think that’s right,” said Lansing. “He was a desperate man, at the end of his tether. I never realized how far gone he was until we talked last night. I honestly don’t think any of us can blame ourselves for what took place.”

“Then what about this leaving business?” asked the Brigadier. “How about it, Lansing?”

“It is my judgment that all of us should get out of here,” said Lansing. “There is something sinister about the city. Certainly you have sensed it. It’s dead, but even dead, there is something watching us. Watching all the time. Every move we make. You can forget it for a time and then you feel the watching once again, between your shoulder blades.”

“And if we stay, if the rest of us stay?”

“Then you stay alone. I’m leaving and Mary’s going with me.” Thinking as he said it that not until Mary had spoken earlier had he known they would be leaving. How had she known? he wondered. What unknown, unconscious communication lay between them?

“A few more days,” pleaded the Brigadier. “A few more days. That is all I’ll ask. If nothing turns up in the next few days, then all of us will leave.”

No one answered.

“Three days,” he said. “Only three days…”

“I’m not one to push a man to his limit in a bargain,” Lansing said. “Mary willing, I’ll make a deal with you and give you the benefit. Two days and that is all. There’ll be no extension.”

The Brigadier threw a puzzled look at Mary. “All right,” she said. “Two days.” Outside, night had fallen. Later the moon would rise, but now, with the sun gone, full night had fallen on the city.

Jurgens rose awkwardly. “I’ll get supper started.” “No, let me,” Sandra said. “It helps if I keep busy.” From far off came a terrible crying. They stiffened where they were, sitting starkly, listening. Again, as had been the case the night before, on a hilltop above the city a lonely creature was sobbing out its anguish.