Now and Forever by Ray Bradbury Read Free Book Online

to be a villain somewhere.”
    Cardiff held his breath.
    McCoy pulled out his pad and scowled at it.
    â€œI think I know the name of the villain,” he muttered. “The Department of—”
    He made Cardiff wait.
    â€œâ€”Highways?”
    Cardiff exhaled.
    â€œBingo,” McCoy whispered. “I see the headlines now: ACE REPORTER DEFENDS PERFECT TOWN FROM DESTRUCTION. Small type: Highway Bureau Insists on Pillage and Ruin. Next week: SUMMERTON SUES AND LOSES. Ace Reporter Drowns in Gin.”
    He shut his pad.
    â€œPretty good for an hour’s work, yep?” he said.
    â€œPretty,” said Cardiff.

CHAPTER 21
    â€œThis is gonna be great,” said James Edward McCoy. “I can see it now: my byline on stories about how Summerton, Arizona, hit the rocks and sank. Johnstown flood stand aside. San Francisco earthquake, forget it. I’ll expose how the government destroyed the innocents and plowed their front lawns with salt. First the New York Times , then papers in London, Paris, Moscow, even Canada. News junkies love to read about others’ misery—here’s an entire town being strangled to death by government greed. And I’m going to tell the world.”
    â€œIs that all you can see in this?” said Cardiff.
    â€œTwenty-twenty vision!”
    â€œLook around,” said Cardiff. “It’s a town with no people. No people, no story. Nobody cares if a town falls if there are no people in it. Your ‘story’ will run for one day, maybe. No book deal, no TV series, no film for you. Empty town. Empty bank account.”
    A scowl split McCoy’s face.
    â€œSon of a bitch,” he murmured. “Where in hell is everyone?”
    â€œThey were never here.”
    â€œNo one’s here now, but the houses get painted, the lawns get mowed? They were just here, have to have been. You know that and you’re lying to me. You know what’s going on.”
    â€œI didn’t till now.”
    â€œAnd you’re not telling me? So you’re keeping the headlines to yourself to protect this pathetic little ghost town?”
    Cardiff nodded.
    â€œDamn fool. Go on, stay poor and righteous. With you or without you I’m going to get to the bottom of this. Gangway!”
    McCoy lunged down the porch steps, onto the street. He rushed up to the adjacent house and pulled open the door, stuck his head in, then entered. He emerged a moment later, slammed the door, and ran on to the next house, yanked open that screen door, jumped in, came out, his blood-red visage quoting dark psalms. Again and again he opened and closed the doors of half a dozen other empty houses.
    Finally, McCoy returned to the front yard of the Egyptian View Arms. He stood there, panting, muttering to himself. As his voice drifted off into silence, a bird flew over and dropped a calling card on James Edward McCoy’s vest.
    Cardiff stared off across the meadow-desert. He imagined the shrieks of the arriving trainloads of hustling reporters. In his mind’s eye he saw a twister of print inhaling the town and whirling it off into nothing.
    â€œSo.” McCoy stood before him. “Where are all the people?”
    â€œThat seems to be a mystery,” said Cardiff.
    â€œI’m sending my first story now!”
    â€œAnd how will you do that? No telegraphs or telephones.”
    â€œHoly jeez! How in hell do they live ?”
    â€œThey’re aerophiles, orchids, they breathe the air. But wait. You haven’t examined everything. Before you go off half-cocked, there’s one place I must show you.”

CHAPTER 22
    Cardiff led McCoy into the vast yard of motionless stones and flightless angels. McCoy peered at the markers.
    â€œDamn. There’s plenty of names, but no dates. When did they die?”
    â€œThey didn’t,” Cardiff said softly.
    â€œGood God, lemme look closer.”
    McCoy took six steps west, four steps east, and came to