gs.earthabides-第4章

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other　fugitives；　possibly　even　the　Johnsons。　The　excited　collie　had　been　trying　to　tell　him　that　strange　things　had　happened　at　the　power…house。　
　　But　as　he　lay　there；　he　was　not　greatly　perturbed　even　at　the　thought　that　he　might　be　the　only　person　left　in　the　world。　Possibly　that　was　because　he　had　not　seen　many　people　for　some　time；　so　that　the　shock　of　the　new　realization　could　not　e　to　him　as　strongly　as　to　one　who　had　seen　his　fellow…creatures　dying　on　all　sides。　At　the　same　time　he　could　not　really　believe；　and　he　had　no　reason　to　believe；　that　he　alone　was　left　upon　the　earth。　The　last　report　in　the　paper　indicated　that　the　population　had　merely　shrunk　by　perhaps　a　third。　The　evacuation　of　a　small　town　like　Hutsonville　showed　merely　that　the　population　had　scattered　or　withdrawn　to　some　other　center。　Before　he　shed　any　tears　over　the　destruction　of　civilization　and　the　death　of　man；　he　should　discover　whether　civilization　was　destroyed　and　whether　man　was　dead。　Obviously　the　first　call　was　for　him　to　return　to　the　house　where　his　parents　had　lived…or；　he　hoped；　might　still　be　living。　Having　thus　laid　out　for　himself　a　definite　plan　for　the　day；　he　felt　the　quiet　satisfaction　which　always　came　to　him　when　confusion　of　mind　yielded　even　to　temporary　certainty。　
　　Getting　up；　he　searched　both　radio　bands　again；　and　again　without　result。　
　　He　went　into　the　kitchen；　throwing　open　the　door　of　the　refrigerator；　he　found　that　it　was　still　working。　On　the　shelves　was　a　fair　assortment　of　food；　though　not　as　much　as　might　have　been　expected。　Apparently　supplies　had　failed　a　little　before　the　house　had　been　abandoned；　and　the　larder　was　paratively　scant。　Nevertheless　there　were　half　a　dozen　eggs；　most　of　a　pound　of　butter；　and　some　bacon；　along　with　several　heads　of　lettuce；　a　little　celery；　and　a　few　odds　and　ends。　Looking　into　a　cupboard；　he　found　a　can　of　grapefruit…juice；　in　a　bread…drawer　there　was　a　loaf　of　bread；　dry　but　not　impossible。　He　estimated　that　it　might　have　been　there　for　five　days；　and　so　he　had　a　better　idea　than　before　of　the　time　at　which　the　town　might　have　been　abandon　With　such　materials　at　hand　he　was　enough　of　a　camper　to　have　built　a　fire　outdoors　and　contrived　an　excellent　meal；　but　he　snapped　the　switches　of　the　electric　stove　and　felt　the　heat　begin　to　radiate。　He　cooked　himself　a　hearty　breakfast；　managing　even　to　make　the　bread　into　acceptable　toast。　As　always　when　he　came　out　of　the　mountains；　he　was　hungry　for　fresh　green　stuff；　and　so　to　his　conventional　breakfast　of　bacon；　eggs　and　coffee；　he　added　a　generous　head…lettuce　salad。　
　　Returning　to　the　davenport；　he　helped　himself　from　a　red　lacquer　box　on　the　near…by　table；　and　smoked　an　after…breakfast　cigarette。　As　yet；　he　reflected；　the　maintenance　of　life　offered　no　problem。　
　　The　cigarette　was　not　even　yet　badly　dried　out。　With　a　good　breakfast　and　a　good　cigarette；　he　did　not　feel　himself　worrying。　Actually　he　had　put　worry　in　abeyance；　and　had　decided　that　he　would　not　indulge　in　it　until　he　had　really　found　out　just　how　much　need　there　was。　
　　When　he　had　finished　the　cigarette；　he　reflected　that　there　was　really　no　need　even　to　wash　the　dishes；　but　since　he　was　naturally　careful；　he　went　to　the　kitchen　and　made　sure　that　he　had　left　the　refrigerator　closed　and　had　turned　off　the　burners　on　the　stove。　Then　he　picked　up　the　hammer；　which　had　already　proved　so　useful；　and　went　out　by　the　shattered　front　door。　He　got　into　his　car；　and　started　for　home。　
　　A　half　mile　beyond　the　town；　he　caught　sight　of　the　cemetery。　He　realized　that　he　had　not　thought　of　it　on　the　preceding　day。　Without　getting　out　of　the　car；　he　noticed　a　long　row　of　new　individual　graves；　and　also　a　bull…dozer　near　a　large　heap　of　earth。　Probably；　he　decided；　there　had　not　really　been　many　people　left　to　abandon　Hutsonville　at　the　end。　
　　Beyond　the　cemetery　the　road　sloped　down　through　flattening　terrain。　At　all　the　emptiness；　depression　settled　down　on　him　again；　he　longed　even　for　a　single　clattering　truck　suddenly　to　e　across　the　rise　ahead；　but　there　was　no　truck。　
　　Some　steers　stood　in　a　field　and　some　horses　with　them。　They　switched　their　tails　at　the　flies；　as　they　might　on　any　hot　summer　morning。　Above　them　the　spokes　of　the　windmill　re；　volved　slowly　in　the　breeze；　and　below　the　watering…trough　there　was　a　little　patch　of　green　and　trampled　muddy　ground；　as　there　always　was…and　that　was　all。　
　　Yet　this　road　below　Hutsonville　never　carried　much　traffic；　and　on　any　morning　he　might　have　driven　several　miles　without　seeing　anyone。　It　was　different　when　he　came　to　the　highway。　The　lights　were　still　burning　at　the　junction；　and　automatically　he　pulled　to　a　stop　because　they　were　red。　
　　But　where　trucks　and　buses　and　cars　should　have　been　streaming　by；　crowding　the　four　lanes；　there　was　only　emptiness。　After　he　had　paused　just　a　moment　at　the　red　lights；　he　drove　on　through　them；　even　though　feeling　a　slight　sense　of　wrongdoing　as　he　did　so。　
　　Beyond　that；　on　the　highway　with　all　the　four　lanes　to　himself；　everything　was　more　ghost…like　than　before。　He　seemed　to　drive　half　in　a　daze；　and　only　now　and　then　some　special　scene　brought　him　out；　and　fixed　itself　in　his　consciousness。。。。　
　　Something　was　loping　along　the　inner　lane　ahead　of　him。　He　drew　up　on　it　fast　from　behind。　A　dog？　No；　he　saw　the　sharp　ears　and　the　light　lean　legs；　gray　shading　into　yellow。　That　was　no　farm　dog。　It　was　a　coyote；　calmly　loping　along　the　highway　in　broad　daylight。　Strange　how　soon　it　had　known　that　the　world　had　changed；　and　that　it　could　take　new　freedoms！　He　drew　up　close　and　honked　his　horn；　and　the　beast　quickened　its　pace　a　little　and　swung　over　into　the　other　lane　and　off　across　the　fields；　seemingly　not　much　alarmed。。。。　
　　The　two　cars　lay　sprawled　at　crazy　angles　blocking　both　lanes。　It　had　been　a　bad　accident。　He　pulled　out　onto　the　shoulder　and　stopped。　A　man's　body　lay　crushed　beneath　one　car。　He　got　out　to　look。　There　was　no　other　body　although　the　pavement　was　spotted　with　blood。　Even　if　he　had　seen　any　particular　reason　to　try；　he　could　not　have　raised　the　car　from　the　man's　body　to　give　it　burial。　He　drove　on。。。。　
　　His　mind　did　not　even　bother　to　register　the　name　of　the　town　where　he　stopped　for　gasoline；　though　it　was　a　large　one。　The　electricity　was　still　working；　he　took　down　the　nozzle　from　the　gas…pump　at　a　large　station　and　filled　the　tank。　Since　his　car　had　been　so　long　in　the　mountains；　he　checked　the　radiator　and　battery；　and　put　in　a　quart　of　oil。　He　saw　that　one　tire　needed　more　air　and　as　he　pressed　the　air…hose　against　the　valve；　he　heard　the　motor　suddenly　start　to　build　up　the　pressure　again　in　the　tank。　Yes；　man　had　gone；　but　so　recently　that　all　his　well…contrived　automatic　processes　were　still　carrying　on　without　his　care。。。。　
　　At　the　main　street　of　some　other　town　he　stopped；　and　blew　a　long　blast　on　the　horn。　He　had　no　real　expectation　that　he　would　have　any　reply；　but　there　was　something　about　the　look　of　this　street　which　seemed　more　normal　than　those　of　other　towns。　Many　cars　were　parked　at　the　meters　where　each　one　showed　the　red　flag　of　a　violation。　It　might　have　been　some　Sunday　morning　with　many　cars　parked　overnight　and　the　stores　not　yet　open　or　people　beginning　to　circulate。　But　it　was　not　early　morning；　for　now　the　sun　was　almost　overhead。　Then　he　saw　what　had　made　him　pause；　and　what　gave　the　place　an　illusion　of　animation。　In　front　Of　a　restaurant　called　The　Derby　a　neon　sign　was　still　in　full　activity…a　little　horse　galloping　hard；　its　legs　still　going　as　actively　as　ever。　In　the　full　sunlight　the　faint　pink　glow　was　scarcely　visible　except　for　its　motion。　He　looked；　and　as　he　looked；　he　caught　the　rhythm…one；　two；　three。　（And　at　three　the　feet　of　the　little　horse　were　close　tucked　up　under　its　body　as　if　it　were　clear　in　the　air。）　Four…they　came　back　to　the　half　position；　and　the　legs　stretched　out　as　if　the　body　were　low　along　the　ground。　One；　two；　three；　four；　it　went。　One；　two；　three；　four。　It　galloped　in　a　frenzy　of　activity　still；　and　yet　in　all　its　galloping　it　arrived　nowhere；　and　now　even　for　most　of　its　time　it　galloped　with　no　eye　to　observe。　As　he　looked；　it　seemed　to　him　a　gallant　little　horse；　though　a　futile　and　a　foolish　one。　The　horse；　suddenly　he　thought；　was　like　that　civilization　of　which　man　had　been　so　proud；　galloping　so　hard　and　yet　never　arriving　anywhere；　and　sometime　destined；　when　once　the　power　failed；　to　grow　still　forever。。。　
　　He　saw　smoke　rising　against　the　sky。　His　heart　leaped　up；　and　he　turned　quickly　off　on　a　side　road；　and　drove　toward　the　smoke。　But　even　before　he　reached　it；　he　knew　that　he　would　find　no　one　there；　and　his　spirit　fell　again。　He　drove　up　to　the　smoke；　and　saw　then　that　it　was　a　small　farmhouse　quietly　beginning　to　burn　up。　There　were　many　reasons；　he　decided；　why　a　fire　might　start　thus　without　people。　A　pile　of　greasy　rags　might　ignite　spontaneously；　or　some　electric　apparatus　might　have　been　left…on；　or　a　motor　in　a　refrigerator　might　jam　and　begin　to　burn。　The　little　house　was　obviously　doomed。　There　was　nothing　he　could　do；　and　no　special　reason　why　he　should　do　it　if　he　could。　He　turned　around；　and　headed　back　to　the　highway　。。。　
　　He　did　not　drive　fast；　and　he　stopped　often　to　investigate；　rather　half…heartedly。　Here　and　there　he　saw　bodies；　but　in　general　he　found　only　emptiness。　Apparently　the　onset　of　the　disease　had　been　slow　enough　so　that　people　were　not　usually　struck　down　in　the　streets。　Once　he　passed　through　a　town　where　the　smell　of　corpses　was　thick　in　the　air。　He　remembered　what　he　had　read　in　the　newspaper；　apparently　there　had　been　concentrations　at　the　last　upon　certain　areas；　and　in　these　the　corpses　were　now　to　be　found　most　thickly。　There　was　all　too　much　evidence　of　death　in　that　town　and　none　of　rife。　He　saw　no　reason　to　stop　to　investigate。　Surely　no　one　would　linger　there　longer　than　necessary。　
　　In　the　late　afternoon　he　came　across　the　crest　of　the　hills；　and　saw　the　Bay　lie　bright　beneath　the　westering　sun。　Smokes　rose　here　and　there　from　the　vast　expanse　of　city；　but　they　did　not　look　like　smokes　rising　from　chimneys。　He　drove　on　toward　the　house　where　he　had　lived　with　his　parents。　He　had　no　hope。　Miracle　enough　it　was　that　he　himself　had　survivedmiracle　upon　miracle　if　the　plague　had　also　spared　the　others　of　his　own　family！　
　　From　the　boulevard　he　turned　into　San　Lupo　Drive。　Every　thing　looked　much　the　same；　although　the　sidewalks　were　not　as　well　swept　as　the　standard　of　San　Lupo　Drive　required。　It　had　always　been　a　street；　of　eminent　respectability；　and　even　yet；　he　reflected；　it　preserved　decorum。　No　corpse　lay　on　the　street；　that　would　b　e　unthinkable　in　San　Lupo　Drive。　He　saw　the　Hatfields'　old　gray　cat　sleeping　on　their　porch…step　in　the　sun；　as　he　had　seen　her　…a　hundred　times　before。　Aroused　by　the　sound　of　the　car　as　he　drove　by；　she　rose　up　and　stretched　luxuriously。　
　　He　let　the　car　roll　to　a　stop　in　front　of　the　house　where　he　had　lived　so　long。　He　blew　two　blasts　on　the　horn；　and　waited。　Nothing！　He　got　out　of　the　car；　and　walked　up　the　steps　into　the　house。　Only　after　he　had　entered　did　he　think　it　a　little　strange　that　the　door　was　not　even　locked。　
　　Inside；　things　were　in　good