by Ray Cummings
CHAPTER V.
CAPTURED!
When I recovered consciousness I found myself lying in the sand withMercer sitting beside me. It was still night. The tangled wreckage of ourairplane lay near by; evidently Mercer had carried me out of it.
I sat up.
"I'm all right," I said. "What happened?"
He grinned at me with relief.
"The damned engine stopped. I don't know what was the matter. You had thelight off. I couldn't see anything when we got down close."
He waved his hand toward the wrecked plane.
"It's done for," he added; "but I'm not hurt much. Are you?"
"No," I said. "I'm all right."
I climbed to my feet unsteadily; my head seemed about to split open.
"Garland's burning," he added.
Over the desert, some two or three miles away, the burning town could beseen plainly.
"What are we going to do?" Mercer asked after a moment.
I was pretty weak and badly bruised all over. Mercer seemed to have faredbetter than I. We talked over our situation at length. Finally we decidedto rest where we were until daybreak. I would feel better then, and wecould start back on foot for Mantua and Frannie.
I lay down again--my head was going round like a top--and Mercer satbeside me. It was pretty cold, but we were warmly dressed and notuncomfortable. The fact that we were so close to the Mercutians--not muchover seven or eight miles--worried us a little. But we reasoned that wewere in no great danger. We could still see their light-ray standingvertically in the air.
Occasionally it would swing slowly to one side or the other. Once it swungtoward us, but as its base was in a hollow, it was cut off by the higherground between as it swung down, and we knew it could not reach us fromthat position.
After a while I fell asleep. When Mercer woke me up it was dawn.
"Let's get started," he said. "I'm hungry as the devil."
I felt much better now. I was hungry myself, and stiff, and chilled.
"You'll feel better walking," he added. "Come on. It'll take us a deuce ofa while over this sand."
We decided to strike for the railroad at its closest point to us. TheState automobile road to Cody ran along near the railroad, and we plannedto follow that up to Mantua.
After a last look at our plane, which was hopelessly demolished, westarted off, heading north of Garland. We had been walking along a fewminutes when Mercer suddenly gripped me by the arm. I followed thedirection of his glance. Another rocket was rising from the Mercutianbase. It was still dark enough for us to see its flare as it rose andcurved in a long, graceful arc. We stopped stock still and stood watching.The rocket arched over to the north. As it came down we lost sight of it.
"That went into Mantua," said Mercer in a horrified whisper.
A moment later we saw, in the direction of Mantua, that brief, silent,smokeless red and green flash. Then the sky lighted up a lurid red, and weknew Mantua was burning.
We stood looking at each other for a time, too frightened and horrifiedfor words. The thing was not like modern warfare. It was uncanny in itssilent deadliness, and there seemed a surety about it that was appalling.
"We're cut off," said Mercer finally.
His face was white and his voice trembled.
We were both pretty much unnerved, but after a moment we got ourselvestogether and talked calmly about what was best for us to do.
We concluded finally to go ahead to the road. We calculated we were notover two miles from the nearest part of it. We would strike it abouthalfway between Garland and Mantua, and we thought it just possible wewould find passing along it some refugees from the two towns. I couldn'tquite see how meeting them could help us any, unless we encountered somevehicle that would give us a lift. However, the walking would be easier,and when we got to the road we could decide which way to go--north toFrannie, or south around Garland to Powell.
The sun was just rising when we started again. It took us nearly an hourto reach the road. As far as we could see it was deserted. We stopped hereand held another consultation.
"It's easily twelve miles up to Frannie," I said, "and I don't believemore than eight to Powell. Let's go that way. We can get down to Cody fromthere. I guess there are still people left in Powell."
We started down the road toward Garland. It seemed the sensible thing todo. We were both famished by now and thirsty also. I had an idea that,since the fires in Garland were about burned out, there might be anisolated house unharmed, where we could find food and water.
I sometimes wonder now at our temerity in venturing so calmly to face thisunknown danger. We were in the enemy's country--an enemy whose methods ofattacking us might at any moment prove a hundred times more efficaciousthan they had so far. But we did not consider that then.
There was, indeed, nothing else we could have done advantageously. Thisroad we were on was the only one within twenty or thirty miles. To havestruck west from our wrecked plane--away from the Mercutians--would havebrought us to face a hundred miles or more of desert over to theYellowstone.
It was now broad daylight--and almost cloudless, as is usual in thislocality. Half an hour of walking brought us nearly to the outskirts ofGarland. There was less smoke all the time. We judged the fire must bepretty well burned out by now. Behind us the smoke of Mantua, a muchlarger town than Garland, rose in a great rolling cloud.
We were walking along, wondering what we should find ahead, when suddenlybehind Garland and off to the right we saw another huge cloud of smokerising.
"Powell!" ejaculated Mercer, coming to a dead stop in the road. "Good God,they've got Powell, too!"
There was no doubt about it--the town of Powell was also in flames. We satdown together then at the side of the road. We didn't quite know what elseto do. We were both faint. Our situation seemed every moment to be gettingworse; we appeared further from even comparative safety now than when weleft our plane at dawn.
There seemed nothing else to do now but go ahead into Garland, a distanceof only half a mile. There we might find food and water; and, thusrefreshed, we could start back north to cover the fifteen miles toFrannie.
Garland, a few days before, was a town of about five hundred inhabitants;but I do not suppose that, at the time of its destruction, there were morethan a score or two of people remaining in it.
We started off again, and within twenty minutes were among the smolderinghouses of the town. It consisted practically of only one street--the roadwe were on--with the houses strung along it. The houses had been, most ofthem, small frame structures. They were nothing now but smoldering heapsof ashes with the chimneys left standing, like gaunt, silent sentinels. Aswe passed on down the road we saw several twisted forms that we took forthe remains of human beings. It is unnecessary for me to describe them. Wehurried on, shuddering.
Our objective was the lower end of the town, for there, perhaps a quarterof a mile off to one side with a branch road leading to it, we saw asingle house and out-buildings left standing. We turned down this road andapproached the house. It was a rather good-looking building of thebungalow type with a wide-spreading porch. Beside it stood a long, low,rectangular building we took to be a garage. There was an automobilestanding in the doorway, and behind it we caught the white gleam of anairplane wing.
"We're all right now," cried Mercer. "There's a car, and there's a planeinside. One of them ought to run."
At this unexpected good fortune we were jubilant. We could get back toBillings now in short order.
We climbed up the porch steps and entered the house. We did not call out,for it seemed obvious that no one would be there after what had occurredin Garland so near by.
"There must be something to eat here," I said. "Let's find out--and thenget back to Billings."
The big living room was empty, but there was no sign of disorder. A closeddoor stood near at hand.
"That might be the way to the kitchen," I suggested. "Come on."
I pushed open the door
and entered, with Mercer close behind me. It was abedroom. The bed stood over by a window. I stopped in horror, for on thebed, hunched forward in a sitting position, was the body of a man!
With the first sudden shock of surprise over, we stopped to note details.The man's hand, lying on the blanket, clutched a revolver. A mirrordirectly across from him was shattered as though by a bullet. A smallbedroom chair was overturned near the center of the room.
"He--he isn't burned." Mercer spoke the words hardly above a whisper."Something else killed him--there's been a fight. They--"
He stopped.
A sudden panic seized me. I wanted to run--to do something--anything--thatwould get me away from the nameless, silent terror that seemed all about.
"Come on," I whispered back. "God! Let's get out of here."
As we got out into the living room we heard slow, dragging footsteps onthe porch outside. We stopped again, shrinking back against the wall.
"They--they--it's--" Mercer's whispered words died away. We were bothterrified beyond the power of reasoning. The dragging footsteps camecloser--a sound that had in it nothing of human tread. Then we heard softvoices--words that were unintelligible.
"It's the Mercutians," I found voice to whisper. "They--"
A figure appeared in the porch doorway, outlined against the lightbehind--the figure of a short, squat man. He seemed to have on some sortof white, furry garment. He was bareheaded, with hair falling to hisshoulders.
At the sight of him my terror suddenly left me. Here was an enemy I couldcope with. The dread fear of supernatural beings that had possessed meevaporated.
With a shout to Mercer I dashed forward directly at the doorway. I thinkthe Mercutian had not yet seen us; he stood quite still, his body blockingthe full width of the doorway.
I let fly with my fist as I came up and hit him full in the face. At thesame instant my body struck his. He toppled backward and I went throughthe doorway. I tripped over him on the porch outside and fell sprawling.Before I could rise three other Mercutians fell upon me and pinned medown.
Mercer was right behind me in the doorway. I saw him pause an instant tosee what was happening. There seemed to be five Mercutians altogether. Theone I had hit lay quite still. Three others were holding me.
The fifth stood to one side, watching Mercer, but apparently inactive.
I saw Mercer hesitate. An expression of surprise came over his face. Hisbody swayed; he took a single step forward, half turned, and then fell ina crumpled heap.
