Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, Issue 45 — page 84: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

DEATH DEFERRED her and she yielded to in- grained habit patterns. “Yes, Jefi.”’ “Get some food ready.” “Yes, Jeff.’’ George watched her as she moved slowly among _ the stores then looked at the pudgy man. ““What are we going to Jeff?” “Wait.” ie =) eng “You can do as you wish, George. The door is down there and you can walk out at any time. Personally I’m not the impatient type. I can wait to make sure, and Lorna is going to wait with me.” “I see.” George scraped his foot along the dirty concrete. “Then I suppose Id better stay here with you.” Jeff shrugged. do, They waited four weeks, and then another four, and still the rescue parties failed to come and the radio re- mained dead. Three people tried to live in an area of no more than two hundred square feet, most of which was taken up with crates and ranked accumulators; and the in- 83 evitable stench from unwashed bodies, retained garbage and animal waste made the shelter a nightmare. Lorna felt it most, and she dragged her sagging body wearily from crate to bunk, from bunk to crate again. She was ill, more than ill, wasting, perhaps, from radiation sick- ness or from some subtle ill- health engendered by damp and unsanitary conditions. She had lost appetite, drank too much water and com- plained fretfully of pains in her head arid stomach. George thought that she was dying. Jeff didn’t care. He had more things to worry about than an ailing woman. Every day now for the past month, waiting until the others lay in uneasy slum- ber, he had crept through the thick door at the end of the shelter, crept part-way up the zig-zag corridor, and listened to the mounting chatter of a portable Geiger counter. And each time the mechanical song had spelt one word. Death. The ground was still radio- active, still emitting invisible comiclbooks.conrn