Pulp Fiction, 1955 · page 64 of 146
Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 54 — page 64: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1955. 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.
MAN IN A MAZE Sweet stood with mouth twistedly agape, eyes staring. His arms were held out before him, fingers clawing to get at Tyler and pull him out of it. But his body would not ad- vance. He seemed to be straining against invisible bonds. He spoke, chokingly. “I didn’t mean Oh, God, fire! You made me afraid of fire!” Yet still he tried to face it. But what was happening be- yond the fire he soon could no lohger face. With a thin wail he turned and lumbered to the ’phone. “Operator! Help! Get the Fire Department...” A click, and then a tinny voice echoed mockingly: “Operator! Help! Get the Fire Department .. .”’ A phrase he’d used but ten minutes ago came back to him: “The biter bit!’’ The wooden shelves crackled as they burned, and the smell of burnt paint was pungent. There was another horrible burning smell, also... A heavy drift of black smoke moved slowly belfind the bench. It seemed to scream as 63 it moved. A voice from a cloud... Sweet, with an effort, turned his red and streaming eyes away from it. He dropped the ‘phone, and groped to the door and through. The smoke and the smell pursued him along the passage. Was he going the right way ? Had he turned the right way ? He tried to get the latest layout of the house clear in his mind. But nothing would come clear in his mind. For it was full of fear and horror, anguish and remorse, dancing wildly, and a lipless voice that shouted over and over: “Get out of here! Get out of here!” But where was the way out? There were doors, endless doors. He pushed and pulled at them, but freedom never lay beyond. The corridors were curving ever further round the circle of the house. He must be nearing his start- ing point. Behind every door now was the threat of—/ire. No longer could he bring himself to thrust at them, lest one opened into the hell of that laboratory. It was his turn now. He was comicloooks.com