Return From the Inferno by Mack Maloney Read Free Book Online Page B

in the bridge control house by this time, punching the controls, swearing at them to work properly.
    It took a few tries, but finally the ancient gears meshed and the rusting, creaking bridge descended.
    He ran across the span and down to the far bank, where he found the man sprawled, coughing up a combination of river water and blood. It was obvious that the man was injured even before he tried to cross the river the hard way.
    Fitz yanked him up as gently as possible, and then slinging him over his shoulder, carried him back across the bridge and into his shack.
    He helped the man down onto his bunk, studying him as he did so. His upper body, neck and face, were covered with small cuts and abrasions, like he'd been hit with dozens of tacks. His arms and legs were in even worse condition.
    "What happened to you?" Fitz asked him, wrapping him in the blanket and passing him the wine bottle. "Where have you come from?"
    The man took a deep breath and a long swig of wine.
    "I can just barely remember," he gasped. "I have been walking for days, down from what used to be Gary, Indiana."
    48
    He took another long drink of wine.
    "I must tell you," he began again. "It happened two, no, three days ago. It was early in the morning. I'd worked until midnight at the steel mill and I'd just come home to go to sleep.
    "My quarters were across the main square from what used to be the city hall.
    It was converted into the local headquarters for the NS garrison. The day before there was a small demonstration in front of this building. The people-it was about twelve old women and some young kids-were asking the NS
    for more food. We'd had very little to eat in the past few months. Everyone was going without.
    "This little demonstration-you couldn't even call it a protest-lasted no more than ten minutes. Some soldiers simply came out and shooed them away.
    "That night, as I was coming home from working at the mill, I saw the NS
    moving out of the city hall. They were taking everything with them-weapons, computers, even the desks. I didn't think anything of it. I thought they were moving to better quarters.
    "Anyway, I'm sure it was right after sunrise, when I was awakened by this noise. It was so strange, so eerie. Like a loud, echoing whistle. I actually got up and looked out my window.
    "That's when it happened."
    The man took another long gulp of wine and wiped his weary brow.
    "It hit about a quarter mile away, right on the other side of the square.
    First there was this tremendous roar and then an explosion. An incredible explosion. I was thrown against the wall and halfway through it. The entire building came down around me. Why my skull wasn't crushed, I'll never know.
    "Somehow I stayed conscious and I was able to dig myself out of the rubble.
    What I saw I couldn't believe at first. Where the wide avenue and the square used to be was now a gigantic crater. It must have been a quarter mile around.
    Probably one hundred fifty feet deep-or even more. It was already filling with water. And bodies.
    "Everyone else in my building was killed. Just about everyone 49
    in the surrounding buildings was killed too. It was horrible. The flame. The smoke. The screams. The clothes shredded right off me. I was naked, cut, burned. But I was alive. Somehow. To the day I die, it will haunt me. Why me?
    Why was I spared?"
    "Do you have any idea what it was?" Fitz asked him. "Did an airplane drop a bomb?"
    "No," the man replied. "I'm sure it wasn't that. I looked. I could see no airplanes. I heard no engines.
    "I pulled myself up and out and then another explosion hit. About a mile away.
    It was tremendous. Then there was another a minute later. And another after that. I counted twenty-three in all over two hours. I was hiding under rubble, praying that whatever was happening would stop. Now I know why-the NS were pulling out. The first explosion was exactly where the old women had held their little demonstration the day before."
    "If they weren't bombs