drink whisky. They say once about five years ago I gotdrunk and killed a little kid, but I don't remember."
Nobody spoke.
"I got out of it. They got me out some way. High priced lawyers got meout. Cost my dad a pile."
Hysteria had been piling up inside of Nora. She had held it back, butnow a little of it spurted out from between her set teeth. "Dosomething, somebody. _Isn't anybody going to do anything?_"
Leroy Davis blinked at her. "There's nothing they can do, honey," hesaid in a kindly voice. "I've got the gun. They'd be crazy to tryanything."
Nora's laugh was like the rattle of dry peas. She sat down on the bedand looked up at the ceiling and laughed. "It's crazy. It's all socrazy! We're sitting here in a doomed city with some kind of alieninvaders all around us and we don't know what they look like. Theyhaven't hurt us at all. We don't even know what they look like. We don'tworry a bit about them because we're too busy trying to kill eachother."
Frank Brooks took Nora by the arm. "Stop it! Quit laughing like that!"
Nora shook him off. "Maybe we need someone to take us over. It's allpretty crazy!"
"Stop it."
Nora's eyes dulled down as she looked at Frank. She dropped her head andseemed a little ashamed of herself. "I'm sorry. I'll be quiet."
Jim Wilson had been standing by the wall looking first at the newcomer,then back at Frank Brooks. Wilson seemed confused as to who his trueenemy really was. Finally he took a step toward Leroy Davis.
Frank Brooks stopped him with a motion, but kept his eyes on Davis."Have you seen anybody else?"
Davis regarded Frank with long, careful consideration. His eyes werebright and birdlike. They reminded Frank of a squirrel's eyes. Davissaid, "I bumped into an old man out on Halstead Street. He wanted toknow where everybody had gone. He asked me, but I didn't know."
"What happened to the old man?" Nora asked. She asked the question asthough dreading to do it; but as though some compulsion forced her tospeak.
"I shot him," Davis said cheerfully. "It was a favor, really. Here wasthis old man staggering down the street with nothing but a lot of wastedyears to show for his efforts. He was no good alive, and he didn't havethe courage to die." Davis stopped and cocked his head brightly. "Youknow--I think that's what's been wrong with the world. Too many peoplewithout the guts to die, and a law against killing them."
It had now dawned upon Jim Wilson that they were faced by a maniac. Hiseyes met those of Frank Brooks and they were--on this point at least--incomplete agreement. A working procedure sprang up, unworded, betweenthem. Jim Wilson took a slow, casual step toward the homicidal maniac.
"You didn't see anyone else?" Frank asked.
Davis ignored the question. "Look at it this way," he said. "In the olddays they had Texas long horns. Thin stringy cattle that gave up meat astough as leather. Do we have cattle like that today? No. Because we bredout the weak line."
Frank said, "There are some cigarettes on that table if you want one."
Jim Wilson took another slow step toward Davis.
Davis said, "We bred with intelligence, with a thought to what a steerwas for and we produced a walking chunk of meat as wide as it is long."
"Uh-huh," Frank said.
"Get the point? See what I'm driving at? Humans are more important thancattle, but can we make them breed intelligently? Oh, no! Thatinterferes with damn silly human liberties. You can't tell a man he canonly have two kids. It's his God-given right to have twelve when thedamn moron can't support three. Get what I mean?"
"Sure--sure, I get it."
"You better think it over, mister--and tell that fat bastard to quitsneaking up on me or I'll blow his brains all over the carpet!"
If the situation hadn't been so grim it would have appeared ludicrous.Jim Wilson, feeling success almost in his grasp, was balanced on tiptoefor a lunge. He teetered, almost lost his balance and fell back againstthe wall.
"Take it easy," Frank said.
"I'll take it easy," Davis replied. "I'll kill every goddam one ofyou--" he pointed the gun at Jim Wilson "--starting with him."
"Now wait a minute," Frank said. "You're unreasonable. What right haveyou got to do that? What about the law of survival? You're standingthere with a gun on us. You're going to kill us. Isn't it natural to tryanything we can to save our own lives?"
A look of admiration brightened Davis' eyes. "Say! I like you. You'reall right. You're logical. A man can talk to you. If there's anything Ilike it's talking to a logical man."
"Thanks."
"Too bad I'm going to have to kill you. We could sit down and have somenice long talks together."
"Why do you want to kill us?" Minna asked. She had not spoken before. Infact, she had spoken so seldom during the entire time they'd beentogether that her voice was a novelty to Frank. He was inclined todiscount her tirade on the floor with Wilson's head in her lap. She hadbeen a different person then. Now she had lapsed back into her oldshell.
Davis regarded thoughtfully. "Must you have a reason?"
"You should have a reason to kill people."
Davis said, "All right, if it will make you any happier. I told youabout killing my keeper when they tried to make me leave town. He got inthe car, behind the wheel. I got into the back seat and split his skullwith a tire iron."
"What's that got to do with us?"
"Just this. Tommy was a better person than anyone of you or all of youput together. If he had to die, what right have you got to live? Is thatenough of a reason for you?"
"This is all too damn crazy," Jim Wilson roared. He was on the point ofleaping at Davis and his gun.
At that moment, from the north, came a sudden crescendo of the weirdinvader wailings. It was louder than it had previously been but did notseem nearer.
The group froze, all ears trained upon the sound. "They're talkingagain," Nora whispered.
"Uh-huh," Frank replied. "But it's different this time. As if--"
"--as if they were getting ready for something," Nora said. "Do yousuppose they're going to move south?"
Davis said, "I'm not going to kill you here. We're going down stairs."
The pivotal moment, hinged in Jim Wilson's mind, that could have changedthe situation, had come and gone. The fine edge of additional madnessthat would make a man hurl himself at a loaded gun, was dulled. LeroyDavis motioned pre-emptorily toward Minna.
"You first--then the other babe. You walk side by side down the hallwith the men behind you. Straight down to the lobby."
They complied without resistance. There was only Jim Wilson's scowl,Frank Brooks' clouded eyes, and the white, taut look of Nora.
Nora's mind was not on the gun. It was filled with thoughts of the palemaniac who held it. He was in command. Instinctively, she felt thatmaniacs in command have one of but two motivations--sex and murder. Herreaction to possible murder was secondary. But what if this man insistedupon laying his hands upon her. What if he forced her into the age oldthing she had done so often? Nora shuddered. But it was also in her mindto question, and be surprised at the reason for her revulsion. Shevisualized the hands upon her body--the old familiar things, and thetaste in her mouth was one of horror.
She had never experienced such shrinkings before. Why now. Had sheherself changed? Had something happened during the night that made thepast a time of shame? Or was it the madman himself? She did not know.
Nora returned from her musings to find herself standing in the emptylobby. Leroy Davis, speaking to Frank, was saying, "You look kind oftricky to me. Put your hands on your head. Lock your fingers togetherover your head and keep your hands there."
Jim Wilson was standing close to the mute Minna. She had followed allthe orders without any show of anger, with no outward expression. Alwaysshe had kept her eyes on Jim Wilson. Obviously, whatever Jim ordered,she would have done without question.
Wilson leaned his head down toward her. He said, "Listen, baby, there'ssomething I keep meaning to ask but I always forget it. What's your lastname
?"
"Trumble--Minna Trumble. I thought I told you."
"Maybe you did. Maybe I didn't get it."
Nora felt the hysteria welling again. "How long are you going to keepdoing this?" she asked.
Leroy Davis cocked his head as he looked at her. "Doing what?"
"Play cat and mouse like this. Holding us on a pin like flies in anexhibit."
Leroy Davis smiled brightly. "Like a butterfly in your case, honey.