Avon Fantasy Reader No. 8 — page 76: what you’re looking at

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

72 | RAY BRADBURY and narrowed. “Tell them to put off their Invasion until tomorrow.” She laughed, nervously. ~_ The buzzing grew louder. “What are they up to? I’d better go look, all right.” The explosion! : The house shook with dull sound. There were other explosions in other yards on other streets. : Involuntarily, Mrs. Morris screamed. “Up this way!” she cried, senselessly, knowing no sense, no reason. Perhaps she saw something from the corners of her eyes, perhaps she smelled a new odor or heard a new noise. There was no time to argue with Henry to convince him. Let him think her insane. Yes, insane! Shrieking, she ran upstairs. He ran after her to see what she was up to. “In the attic!” she screamed. “That’s where it is!” It was only a poor excuse to get him in the attic in time—oh God, in time! | Another explosion outside. The children screamed with delight, as if at a great fireworks display. “It’s not in the attic!” cried Henry. “It’s outside!” “No, no!” Wheezing, gasping, she fumbled at the attic door. “I'll show yeu. Hurry! Pil show you!” | They tumbled into the attic. She slammed the door, locked it, took the key, threw it into a far, cluttered corner. : She was babbling wild stuff now. It came out of her. All the subconscjous suspicion and fear that had gathered secretly all afternoon and fermented like a wine in her. All the little revelations and knowledges and sense that had bothered her all day and which she had logically and carefully and sensibly rejected and censored. Now it exploded in her and shook her to bits. “There, there,” she said, sobbing against the door. “We’re safe until to- night. Maybe we can sneak out, maybe we can escape!” Henry blew up, too, but for another reason. “Are you crazy? Why’d you throw that key away! Damn it, honey!” “Yes, yes, ’'m crazy, if it helps, but stay here with me!” “I don’t know how in hell I can get out!” “Quiet. They'll hear us. Oh, God, they’ll find us soon enough—” Below them, Mink’s voice. The husband. stopped. There was a great uni- versal humming and sizzling, a screaming and giggling. Downstairs, the audio-televisor buzzed and buzzed insistently, alarmingly, violently. Is that Helen calling? thought Mrs. Morris. And is she calling about what I think she’s calling about? | . Footsteps came into the house. Heavy footsteps. “Who's coming in my house?” demanded Henry; angrily. “Who’s tramping around down there?” : Heavy feet. Twenty, thirty, forty, fifty of them. Fifty persons crowding into comicbooks;com