crept over his nerves, soothing them, but at the same time it almost whispered that surely what he had experienced this night had been nothing more than his imagination. Perhaps a hallucination, brought on by eating a spoiled hamburger at Beekman’s Diner — there was more of gravy than of grave about those things! They couldn’t be real. Could they?
But for better or worse, he was too practical to give in to that sweet temptation.
As he was finishing up the living room windows, he noticed for the first time an old-style radio through the study doorway. He hadn’t seen one like this in quite a while, and his enthusiasm was tempered with concern that it might no longer work. Still, he had to try — anything to gain more information, any information, about what was happening.
Kneeling before the oversized, wooden-shelled device, he turned it on, and sure enough, it remained silent for several long seconds. He was ready to give up when he finally heard a whine and some static, and adjusted the controls — after a few more false starts, he found a clear signal.
" Because of the obvious threat to untold numbers of citizens ," came the announcer’s voice, which sounded uncharacteristically tense by professional standards, " and because of the crisis which is even now developing, this radio station will remain on the air, day and night. "
Breathing a sigh of relief, Ben listened.
" This station, and hundreds of other radio and TV stations throughout this part of the country, are pooling their resources through an emergency network hookup, to keep you informed of all developments. "
Deciding that stagnation was not the best idea, Ben stood and returned to his work. As the announcer continued, he hammered away in a few more places, still listening.
" At this hour, we repeat, these are the facts as we know them: There is an epidemic of mass-murder, being committed by a virtual army of unidentified assassins. "
"Assassins," Ben mused. That makes it sound so ... clean. Then he rebuked his own reaction. "Clean," Ben? Dear God. How’s that for a sad state of affairs!
He continued to hammer, and continued to listen.
" The murders are taking place in villages, cities, rural homes, and suburbs — with no apparent pattern or reason for the slayings. It seems to be a sudden, general explosion of mass homicide.
" We have some descriptions of the assassins: Eyewitnesses say they are ‘ordinary-looking’ people; some say they appear to be in a kind of trance . Others describe them as being ... "
The voice faded away from Ben for a moment as he took a look outside through one of the unboarded windows.
There were now three— no, four of the things in the front yard, most of them hovering around the truck. With the headlights knocked out, they were no longer attacking the vehicle, but still ... if he could find the keys to the gas pump, the truck was their best ticket to escape — if the barricades failed them, they would have to run.
So how could he keep them away from the truck?
Use what you know. If it’s not broken, don’t fix it.
Thinking, Ben moved into the study as the radio played on.
" ... so, at this point, there is no really authentic way for us to say who or what to look for, and guard yourself against. Misshapen‘monsters’ ... "
Ben found lighter fluid on the mantle, but the floor around the fireplace was bare from when Barbra collected the wood. Where would they keep ...?
Ah! He opened the adjoining closet, and there it was — beneath the hanging coats, a small box of chopped wood and kindling. He dragged the box out and deposited it in front of the fireplace.
" Reaction of law-enforcement officials is one of complete bewilderment at this hour. So far, we have been unable to determine if any kind of organized investigation is yet underway. "
Tossing several logs into the fireplace, Ben dowsed them with
But for better or worse, he was too practical to give in to that sweet temptation.
As he was finishing up the living room windows, he noticed for the first time an old-style radio through the study doorway. He hadn’t seen one like this in quite a while, and his enthusiasm was tempered with concern that it might no longer work. Still, he had to try — anything to gain more information, any information, about what was happening.
Kneeling before the oversized, wooden-shelled device, he turned it on, and sure enough, it remained silent for several long seconds. He was ready to give up when he finally heard a whine and some static, and adjusted the controls — after a few more false starts, he found a clear signal.
" Because of the obvious threat to untold numbers of citizens ," came the announcer’s voice, which sounded uncharacteristically tense by professional standards, " and because of the crisis which is even now developing, this radio station will remain on the air, day and night. "
Breathing a sigh of relief, Ben listened.
" This station, and hundreds of other radio and TV stations throughout this part of the country, are pooling their resources through an emergency network hookup, to keep you informed of all developments. "
Deciding that stagnation was not the best idea, Ben stood and returned to his work. As the announcer continued, he hammered away in a few more places, still listening.
" At this hour, we repeat, these are the facts as we know them: There is an epidemic of mass-murder, being committed by a virtual army of unidentified assassins. "
"Assassins," Ben mused. That makes it sound so ... clean. Then he rebuked his own reaction. "Clean," Ben? Dear God. How’s that for a sad state of affairs!
He continued to hammer, and continued to listen.
" The murders are taking place in villages, cities, rural homes, and suburbs — with no apparent pattern or reason for the slayings. It seems to be a sudden, general explosion of mass homicide.
" We have some descriptions of the assassins: Eyewitnesses say they are ‘ordinary-looking’ people; some say they appear to be in a kind of trance . Others describe them as being ... "
The voice faded away from Ben for a moment as he took a look outside through one of the unboarded windows.
There were now three— no, four of the things in the front yard, most of them hovering around the truck. With the headlights knocked out, they were no longer attacking the vehicle, but still ... if he could find the keys to the gas pump, the truck was their best ticket to escape — if the barricades failed them, they would have to run.
So how could he keep them away from the truck?
Use what you know. If it’s not broken, don’t fix it.
Thinking, Ben moved into the study as the radio played on.
" ... so, at this point, there is no really authentic way for us to say who or what to look for, and guard yourself against. Misshapen‘monsters’ ... "
Ben found lighter fluid on the mantle, but the floor around the fireplace was bare from when Barbra collected the wood. Where would they keep ...?
Ah! He opened the adjoining closet, and there it was — beneath the hanging coats, a small box of chopped wood and kindling. He dragged the box out and deposited it in front of the fireplace.
" Reaction of law-enforcement officials is one of complete bewilderment at this hour. So far, we have been unable to determine if any kind of organized investigation is yet underway. "
Tossing several logs into the fireplace, Ben dowsed them with
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