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of him, he had courage.
"That's pretty dirty pool you play," he said. He waggled the hands at his
sides. "I said I'd come unarmed, and I did."
"And there's no dirty pool in bringing a whole gang against this one place?"
Chaz answered, still keeping the rifle on him. "I don't know about you. I'm
out to stay alive."
"Who says I want you dead?" Red Rover's eyes flickered over toward the graves,
and his face grew shrewd as he stared at the one Chaz had dug so recently.
"Girl die?"
"What girl?" demanded Chaz.
"You know what girl. She's the one I wanted to speak to you about. If she's
dead already, that's an end to it."
"I don't know what you're talking about," said Chaz.
"You're a headache," Red Rover said. "You can't seem to get it through your
skull I'm not against you. Hell. I've been keeping the Ro-ver packs off your
back for two years now. You didn't think you were doing it all alone, did
you?"
He stared at Chaz challengingly. "Go ahead," Chaz said. "You're doing all the
talking."
"That's all there is to it. If the girl's dead, there's no problem. If not, I
have to stay next to her until she is. The only thing is, I have to know for
sure that she's dead. If it's her you've got buried there," he nodded at the
recent grave, "you're going to have to dig her up so I can see her."
On the verge of telling him in plain Anglo-Saxon what he could do with
himself, Chaz checked. There was some kind of mystery involved in all this;
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and he was more likely to get answers if he sounded halfway agreeable.
"No," he said, briefly.
Red Rover gazed shrewdly at him once more.
"Who was she?" Rover asked. "Some relative? She had to know the place was
here. They put her out of a Gary, Indiana air lock; and she came straight
here. Over sixty klicks, -forty-three miles according to the old road system,
only she went straight across country. Sorry about that; but I've got to see
her dead, if you want to be left alone."
Chaz made a decision. After all, he still had the rifle and Red Rover was
unarmed.
"She's not dead," he answered. "I'll show her to you." He gestured with the
rifle barrel at the back door of the house. "In that way."
Rover turned and headed for the door. Chaz followed, carrying the rifle along
his right leg and side, shielded from whoever might be in the fields watching.
They went through the rooms and upstairs into the room where Eileen still lay
in her fever. Red Rover looked dis-passionately down at her, stepped to the
side of the bed and peeled back one of her eyelids, then examined the inflamed
spots on her neck and upper chest area.
"She's on her way," he said, step-ping back from the bed and looking at Chaz.
"Maybe she's got four months yet, maybe only ten days more. But she's caught
it. Lucky the worst is over except for the choking at the end. She'll be
coming out of that fever any time now. But I sup-pose you know that as well as
I do. She's as good as dead."
"No," said Chaz. "She won't die." He had not expected to speak with such
intensity; and the suddenly deep, harsh tone of his voice startled even him.
Apparently it startled Red Rover even more, however; for the other man shied
like a startled horse, taking half a step back from Chaz.
"What do you mean?" Rover snapped. "You don't mean she's an-other? You don't
mean it runs in families?"
"Families? What runs in fam-ilies?" Chaz demanded.
"What do you think I'm talking about?" retorted Red Rover. "The same thing you
and I've got in com-mon. The reason I've helped keep the scavengers off your
back these last two years though you don't seem to have appreciated it much.
Don't you realize we've got to stick together, us immunes?"
XII
"So that's it," said Chaz. "You're immune to the Rot."
"Didn't I say so? Just like you " Red Rover broke off. "Wait a minute, friend.
You have been living here the last two years, haven't you?"
His face changed, swiftly. Just as swiftly, Chaz brought up the muzzle of the
rifle, which had sagged floorward during the conversation.
"Easy. I'm immune. So's she," said Chaz. "But no, I haven't lived here for two
years. You've got a lot to learn, Red Rover. But so have I. Let's talk it over
like sensible people. I'll give you my promise we're on the same side."
"Are we?" Rover's face was still tight. He looked over at Eileen. "How come
she's sick then, come to think of it? I never did get sick." His hand went to
the ulcer-appearing spots on his throat. "I got so I
painted these on in self-protection." He looked back at Chaz.
"She's sick because she thinks she ought to be," Chaz said.
"Ought to be?" Red Rover stared. "How do you know that?" "Because that's the
way the logic-chain runs," said Chaz. The other's features kept their
expression. "Don't you know about Heisenbergian chain-perception the Pritcher
Mass?"
Red Rover's face relaxed. "Sure, I've heard all about that para-psychological
crazy-business. You're not trying to tell me there's some-thing to it?"
"Of course," said Chaz. "Why shouldn't there be?"
"Why," said Rover, "because it's just another one of those Govern-ment
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boondoggles. They're all alike. A bunch of politicians have to justify their
jobs; so they dream up some-thing to spend the product of the working citizen.
The thing they dream up is always some of that rarefied junk that never had a
chance of working; but it keeps people's minds occupied for a few years until
they have to scrap it and dream up something new."
Chaz stared at the other man. It was hard to believe that the igno-rance Red
Rover was professing could be honest. On the other hand, if it actually was
honest Chaz felt a silent explosion of understanding, in his mind. If it was
honest, it could lead to an explanation of why this man had survived while the
four who had occupied this house had died of the Rot. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]