Pulp Fiction, 1956 · page 149 of 162
Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, No. 65 — page 149: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1956. 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.
AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION higher with rage. “‘Let her go. All right, if that’s how you want it Now will you let her go?’ Max Binder stiffened. His arms dropped from the girl and one hand went to his neck, where the handle of the ivory paper-knife protruded. A smaller man would have been killed instantly, but Max took unbelievably long seconds to die. His fear of death gave him the strength to drag the knife from his neck. With his life fountaining away, he managed to turn and face Harry. Like an ungainly side- show robot he placed one foot in front of the other. His towering bulk started to topple, but the other foot swung forward in time to stop his fall. Harry saw only a man who shouldn’t be alive walking towards him. He wanted to back away, but nightmare terror had his muscles in a lock-grip. He saw Max apparently take another step. And yet another. ! Then Max was dead and his legs failed to swing out in time to prevent him toppling. 148 Slowly as a felled mountain pine he leaned forward. Lunging forward to wreak revenge, Harry thought. Bear- ing down on him to plunge the knife into his heart. Suddenly his muscles were jerking, freed by adrenalin from the vice of fear. But he didn’t believe he would have time to stop Max from killing him. He thrust out his arms wildly and screamed till the last of his pent-up breath was used. He was still scream- ing when Sam kicked Binder’s body aside and hauled him to his feet. He stopped when Sam’s knuckles slashed into his toothless mouth and he reeled back to land on top of Max’s corpse. The blow restored Harry’s sanity. He grabbed the knife from Max’s lifeless fingers and hopped into a fighting crouch. “I owe you for a lot, Garnet,” he lisped through split gums and torn lips. He shoved up a sleeve to display a bruise, big as an egg and as green as a rotten one. “I owe you for this, and I owe you for what you did just comicloooks.conn