The Last Place on Earth | Page 7

for a second. He had done that
before when he deflected Nancy's aim. But he couldn't resist Candle for
long. Why hadn't Candle made him turn around and come back?
Candle's control of him had seemed to stop when he got inside the cab
of the truck. Could it be that the metal shield of the cab could protect an
Earthling from the strange mental powers of the creature from another
planet which was inhabiting the body of Doc Candle?
Collins shook his head.
More likely Candle was doing this just to get his hopes up. He probably
would seize control of him any time he wanted to. But Collins decided
to go on playing it as if he did have some hope, as if a shield of metal
could protect him from Candle's control. Otherwise ... there was no
otherwise.
* * * * *
Collins suddenly saw an opening.
The steel mesh fence was ruptured by a huge semitrailer truck turned
on its side. Twenty feet of fence on either side was down. This was
restricted government property, but of course spaceships were hardly
prime military secrets any longer. Repairs in the fence had not been
made instantaneously, and the wreckage was not guarded.
Collins swerved the wheel and drove the old wagon across the
waffle-plate obstruction, onto the smooth tarmac beyond.
He raced, raced, raced through the falling night, not sure where he was
headed.
Up above he saw the shelter of shadows from a cluster of half-finished
buildings. He drove into them and parked.
Collins sat still for a moment, then threw open the door and ran around
to the back of the truck, jerking open the handles.

Nancy fell out into his arms.
"What kind of ambulance is this?" she demanded. "It doesn't look like
an ambulance. It doesn't smell like an ambulance. It looks like--looks
like--"
Collins said, "Shut up. Get out of there. We've got to hide."
"Why?"
"They think I murdered you."
"Murdered me? But I'm alive. Can't they see I'm alive?"
Collins shook his head. "I doubt it. I don't know why, but I don't think
it would be that simple. Come with me."
The blood on her breast had dried, and he could see it was only a
shallow groove dug by the bullet. But she flinched in pain as she began
to walk, pulling the muscles.
They stopped and leaned against a half-finished metallic shed.
"Where are we? Where are you taking me?"
"This is the spaceport. Now shut up."
"Let me go."
"No."
"I'm not dead," Nancy insisted. "You know I'm not dead. I won't press
charges against you--just let me go free."
"I told you it wasn't that simple. He wants them to think you're dead,
and that's what they'll think."
Nancy passed fingers across her eyes. "Who? Who are you talking
about?"

"Doc Candle. He won't let them know you're alive."
Nancy rubbed her forehead with both hands. "Sam, you don't know
what you're doing. You don't--know what you're getting yourself into.
Just let me show myself to someone. They'll know I'm not dead. Really
they will."
"Okay," he said. "Let's find somebody."
He led her toward a more nearly completed building, showing
rectangles of light. They looked through the windows to see several
men in uniforms bending over blueprints on a desk jury-rigged of
sawhorses and planks.
"Sam," Nancy said, "one of those men is Terry Elston. He's a Waraxe
boy. I went to school with him. He'll know me. Let's go in...."
"No," Collins said. "We don't go in."
"But--" Nancy started to protest, but stopped. "Wait. He's coming out."
Collins slid along the wall and stood behind the door. "Tell him who
you are when he comes out. I'll stay here."
They waited. After a few seconds, the door opened.
Nancy stepped into the rectangle of light thrown on the concrete from
the window.
"Terry," she said. "Terry, it's me--Nancy Comstock."
The blue-jawed young man in uniform frowned. "Who did you say you
were? Have you got clearance from this area?"
"It's me, Terry. Nancy. Nancy Comstock."
Terry Elston stepped front and center. "That's not a very good joke. I
knew Nancy. Hell of a way to die, killed by some maniac."

"Terry, I'm Nancy. Don't you recognize me?"
Elston squinted. "You look familiar. You look a little like Nancy. But
you can't be her, because she's dead."
"I'm here, and I tell you I'm not dead."
"Nancy's dead," Elston repeated mechanically. "Say, what are you
trying to pull?"
"Terry, behind you. A maniac!"
"Sure," Elston said. "Sure. There's a maniac behind me."
Collins stepped forward and hit Elston behind the ear. He fell silently.
Nancy stared down at him.
"He refused to recognize me. He acted like I was crazy, pretending to
be Nancy Comstock."