all lines.
He was so caught up in the plight of the two indigents that he didn’t hear the shouting and sounds of running feet that were coming from his left.
The light changed and he eased the car forward . . .
And plowed directly into a Newcomer.
And as if hitting a living being wasn’t horrific enough, he caught a quick glimpse of a small bundle, wrapped in a blanket and being cradled in the Newcomer’s arms.
A baby. Dear God, he’d hit a father and his baby.
The salesman took no time to wonder why a father and infant child were walking the streets of Little Tencton after midnight. Instead he slammed on his brakes.
The Newcomer bounced off the hood and fell to the right of the car. For a moment the salesman—a confirmed atheist—found himself desperately praying.
He started to open the door and called out, “Are you okay?”
The Newcomer stood up.
The salesman gasped and leaped back into the driver’s seat. The Newcomer had to be six . . . no, seven feet tall. The baby was still safely cradled in his arms. The salesman had heard that Newcomers were tough, but even so . . .
The giant Newcomer staggered slightly, but otherwise appeared unhurt. The salesman couldn’t quite make out the child in the alien’s arms, but it, too, looked all right. Apparently the Newcomer had protected the infant child and taken the full force of the impact himself.
The giant shouted something incomprehensible.
It sounded like a record being played backward, with some sort of clicking sound tossed in. He shook his head signaling that he did not understand.
An air of desperation surrounded the giant, and panic lit his eyes. He started to speak again and then appeared to see something. Whatever it was, it sent him dashing off in the direction of the milk bar.
The salesman turned toward where the giant had been looking and spotted two men who were clearly in pursuit. One was a Newcomer, the other human.
They dashed around the car, barely affording the salesman a glance. For the next five minutes he sat and watched with stupefication. Every moment of it was permanently embedded in his memory, which was fortunate; because an hour later the salesman would be relating to the police every incredible moment of what he had witnessed.
The giant shoved past the two Newcomer transients the moment he became aware that they were of no use to him. He could smell the aroma of sour milk on their breath, and see the giddy blankness of their expressions.
It was an indication of his state of mind that he didn’t turn and stand his ground. But the giant was a primal creature. Since he was being pursued, the only course of action that he could find it within him to take was to run. He had allowed a certain blind panic to overwhelm him—particularly when the vehicle he had been driving ran out of gasoline on the outskirts of Little Tencton.
When that had first occurred, he had thought himself safe. His ebbing fear had given way to exhaustion, and he had sunk down in a small, ramshackle shell of a burned-out building and rested there. The giant had clutched his precious cargo close to him, and every so often would peer down at her, his expression a mixture of love and awe.
He had no idea who he could trust, and no concept of where to go. He had stayed there, drifting in and out of slumber, for who knew how long.
He did not realize that Perkins had taken the opportunity to slip out of the back of the van and call in to his boss to relate all that had happened.
Over two hours later, Perkins, River, and Penn had finally connected up, and stealthily approached their target.
It had been the giant’s light sleeping that saved him. As he had sat there, only half dozing, he had suddenly felt a warning deep within him. What the source of that warning had been, he could not say. All he knew was that he had suddenly snapped to full wakefulness, just in time to see River, Penn, and Perkins ten yards away and closing fast.
Immediately the giant was