We started again. Then the moon came out. We did not dare use the open
road. We skulked through the fields. Then the moon was paling with the
coming dawn. We had not escaped. Giants were ahead of us, and to the
sides.
We crouched by a fence and argued. If we got large, we might in a few
moments dash out of this captured territory. But we would be seen at
once--pounced upon.
If we got smaller, we would be safe from discovery.
But Drake was vehement against it. "Damn it, Frank, I've had enough of
that! It'd be a journey of a hundred miles just to Elton, when we're
smaller! I tell you we've got to get out of here quickly! Frank, these
drugs are vital to the world."
It seemed that our best chance was in our normal size. The dawn came.
We found a dilapidated barn on a side road halfway to Elton. We hid in
it.
We were, with the daylight upon us, hopelessly caught within the
Togarite lines. It was soon obvious that getting to Elton would not
help us. Giants were already there. We thought, if we could head
inland, but then south, toward Portland, we might get past them.
So many things we might have dared to do are apparent, looking
back upon it now! We struggled--all those days in May--to get to
civilization somewhere, to find transportation south to New York. We
had the vital weapon--the one thing the world could successfully use
against this enemy. Because it was so important, we were afraid to
chance anything. If Togaro caught us, the world was doomed. Terrible
responsibility! An excess of caution was upon us.
We skulked and hid by day, and traveled at night. But there were always
giants around us. Patrolling watchfully in the daylight, and at night
with their lights and torches. It seemed that we could never escape
those widening lines. Within a day or two we realized that we should
have headed north; but it was too late now to change.
We tried to get to the coast. It was too dangerous; there were more
giants that way than anywhere else. We had a hundred narrow escapes
from capture. It was a problem to find food and water as we went. But
there were deserted houses into which we slid by night.
Once we found an abandoned automobile. We ran it southward, all one
night, dashing forward, stopping with lights out and silent motor when
a giant approached. Then on again--until at last we barely were able
to fling ourselves from it and take the diminishing drug, when a giant
came up, stooped and tossed the car into the air. We lay in the bushes
by the roadside and dwindled in size until the danger was past.
We lost count of the days on this strange flight. And we lost our
way--wandered, following what roads we dared, working southward by
what devious routes I have no idea. It seemed a hopeless journey. The
country was now a torn mass of wreckage. Littered, burning towns. Roads
obstructed. No storm of nature could ever devastate a countryside like
this!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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