Duel by Richard Matheson Read Free Book Online

be a thing left. We have to leave. For our children, for ourselves …”
    He paused, testing the words in his mind.
    â€œFor the future of life itself,” he finished weakly. He was sorry he said it. Early in the morning, over prosaic food, that kind of talk didn’t sound right. Even if it was true.
    â€œJust don’t be afraid,” he said. “We’ll be all right.”
    She squeezed his hand.
    â€œI know,” she said quietly. “I know.”
    There were footsteps coming toward them. He pulled out a tissue and gave it to her. She hastily dabbed at her face.
    The door slid open. The neighbors and their son and daughter came in. The children were excited. They had trouble keeping it down.
    â€œGood morning,” the neighbor said.

    The neighbor’s wife went to his wife and the two of them went over to the window and talked in low voices. The children stood around, fidgeted and looked nervously at each other.
    â€œYou’ve eaten?” he asked his neighbor.
    â€œYes,” his neighbor said. “Don’t you think we’d better be going?”
    â€œI suppose so,” he said.
    They left all the dishes on the table. His wife went upstairs and got garments for the family.
    He and his wife stayed on the porch a moment while the rest went out to the ground car.
    â€œShould we lock the door?” he asked.
    She smiled helplessly and ran a hand through her hair. She shrugged. “Does it matter?” she said and turned away.
    He locked the door and followed her down the walk. She turned as he came up to her.
    â€œIt’s a nice house,” she murmured.
    â€œDon’t think about it,” he said.
    They turned their backs on their home and got in the ground car.
    â€œDid you lock it?” asked the neighbor.
    â€œYes.”
    The neighbor smiled wryly. “So did we,” he said. “I tried not to, but then I had to go back.”
    They moved through the quiet streets. The edges of the sky were beginning to redden. The neighbor’s wife and the four children were in back. His wife and the neighbor were in front with him.
    â€œGoing to be a nice day,” said the neighbor.
    â€œI suppose so,” he said.
    â€œHave you told your children?” the neighbor asked softly.
    â€œOf course not.”
    â€œI haven’t, I haven’t,” insisted his neighbor. “I was just asking.”
    â€œOh.”
    They rode in silence a while.

    â€œDo you ever get the feeling that we’re … running out?” asked the neighbor.
    He tightened. “No,” he said. His lips pressed together. “No.”
    â€œI guess it’s better not to talk about it,” his neighbor said hastily.
    â€œMuch better,” he said.
    As they drove up to the guardhouse at the gate, he turned to the back.
    â€œRemember,” he said. “Not a word from any of you.”
    The guard was sleepy and didn’t care. The guard recognized him right away as the chief test pilot for the new ship. That was enough. The family was coming down to watch him off, he told the guard. That was all right. The guard let them drive to the ship’s platform.
    The car stopped under the huge columns. They all got out and stared up.
    Far above them, its nose pointed toward the sky, the great metal ship was beginning to reflect the early morning glow.
    â€œLet’s go,” he said. “Quickly.”
    As they hurried toward the ship’s elevator, he stopped for a moment to look back. The guardhouse looked deserted. He looked around at everything and tried to fix it all in his memory.
    He bent over and picked up some dirt. He put it in his pocket.
    â€œGoodbye,” he whispered.
    He ran to the elevator.
    The doors shut in front of them. There was no sound in the rising cubicle but the hum of the motor and a few self-conscious coughs from the children. He looked at them. To be taken so young, he thought, without a chance to