Pulp Fiction, 1954 · page 88 of 162
Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, Issue 45 — page 88: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1954. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
DEATH DEFERRED against her lips. “Have a drink; it will do you good.” **No. Where’s George?” “Gone outside.”” He tried to control his impatience. “TI told you that before. Have a drink.” “No.” She stared up at him and he shuddered at the ex- pression in her bleared eyes. “[’m going to die, Jeff. I’m going to die!” “Don’t be a fool,” he said, roughly. “Of course you’re not going to die. Not now, after all we did to make sure that we’d live. You can’t die now.” Obedience struggled with truth in her dull eyes and habit won. She relaxed on the bedding and wearily closed her eyes. “Yes, Jeff,’ she murmured, and drifted into the stupor which seemed to be her normal state. Jeff shuddered again and sucked desperately at the bottle. George didn’t come back. Jeff waited five days before he dared creep towards the outer door and felt sick as he heard the mounting song of the 87 Geiger. Even with protective clothing a man couldn’t have lived more than a short while exposed to that radiation, and he hurried back to the safety of his underground shelter. The pumps faltered just as he closed the thick door. They had hummed steadily for weeks now, powered by the heavy-duty accumulators, and he gulped as he listened to their broken purr. Hastily he changed their connections from the exhausted batteries to fresh ones, frowning as he reckoned on how long it would be before they died from lack of current. The dim bulb seemed to fill the place with shadows and he stared at it, knowing that the amount of current it consumed was infinitesimal, _but knowing that he could do without light more than he could do with- out fresh air. He switched off the light. At once panic seized him. The shelter seemed to become a tomb, the air thick and stale, the place odoriferous with the smell of death and decay. He whimpered as he clawed at the switch and the echoes of the commcoooks.comnn