"Yeah. Sure. Just like in the movies."
The clouds began to close again. But as they did, Croyd thought that he glimpsed the jet once more, sweeping in on a collision course with the blimps. His view was blocked then, before he could be sure.
"Damn!" he said. "Get 'em, Jetboy!"
Bobby laughed and Croyd shoved him, hard. "Hey! Watch who you're pushing!"
Croyd turned toward him, but Bobby did not seem to want to pursue the matter. He was looking out of the window again, pointing.
"Why are all those people running?"
"I don't know."
"Is it the accident?"
"Nave"
"Look! There's anotherl"
A blue Studebaker had swung rapidly about the corner, swerved to miss the two stopped vehicles, and clipped an oncoming Ford. Both cars were turned at an angle. Other vehicles braked and halted to avoid colliding with them.
Several horns began to sound. The muffled noises of antiaircraft fire continued within the wail of the sirens. People were rushing along the streets now, not even pausing to regard the accidents.
"Do you think the war started again?" Charlotte asked. "I don't know," Leo said.
The sound of a police siren was suddenly mixed with the other noises.
"Jeez!" Bobby said. "Here comes another!"
Before he finished speaking a Pontiac had run into the rear of one of the stopped vehicles. Three pairs of drivers confronted each other on foot; one couple angrily, the others simply talking and occasionally pointing upward. Shortly, they all departed and hurried off along the street.
"This is no drill," Joe said.
"I know," Croyd answered, staring at the area where a cloud had grown pink from the brightness it masked. "I think it's something real bad."
He moved back from the window. "I'm going home now," he said.
"You'll get in trouble," Charlotte told him. He glanced at the clock.
"I'll bet the bell rings before she gets back," he answered. "If you don't go now I don't think they'll let you go with whatever that is going on-and I want to go home."
He turned away and crossed to the door. "I'm going, too," Joe said.
"You'll both get in trouble."
They passed along the hallway. As they neared the front door an adult voice, masculine, called out from up the hall, "You two! Come back here!"
Croyd ran, shouldered open the big green door, and kept going. Joe was only a step behind him as he descended the steps. The street was full of stopped cars now, for as far as he could see in either direction. There were people on the tops of buildings and people at every window, most of them looking upward.
He rushed to the sidewalk and turned right. His home was six blocks to the south, in an anomalous group of row houses in the eighties. Joe's route took him half that way, then off to the east.
Before they reached the corner they were halted as a stream of people flowed from the side street to the right, cutting into their line of pedestrian traffic, some turning north and trying to push through, others heading south. The boys heard cursing and the sound of a fistfight from up ahead. Joe reached out and tugged at a man's sleeve. The man jerked his arm away, then looked down.
"What's happening?" Joe shouted.
"Some kind of bomb," the man answered. "Jetboy tried to stop the guys who had it. I think they were all blown up. The thing might go off any minute. Maybe atomic."
"Where'd it fall?" Croyd yelled. The man gestured to the northwest. "That way."
Then the man was gone, having seen an opening and pushed his way through.
"Croyd, we can get past on the street if we go over the hood of that car," Joe said.
Croyd nodded and followed the other boy across the stillwarm hood of a gray Dodge. The driver swore at them, but his door was blocked by the press of bodies and the door on the passenger side could only open a few inches before hitting the fender of a taxi. They made their way around the cab and passed through the intersection at its middle, traversing two more cars on the way.
Pedestrian traffic eased near to the center of the next block, and it looked as if there was a large open area ahead. They sprinted toward it, then halted abruptly.
A man lay upon the pavement. He was having convulsions. His head and hands had swollen enormously, and they were dark red, almost purple in color. Just as they caught sight of him, blood began to rush from his nose and mouth; it trickled from his ears, it oozed from his eyes and about his fingernails.
"Holy Maryl" Joe said, crossing himself as he drew back. "What's he got?"
"I don't know," Croyd answered. "Let's not get too close. Let's go over some more cars."
It took them ten minutes to reach the next corner. Somewhere along the way they noticed that the guns had been silent for a long time, though the air-raid sirens, police sirens, and auto horns maintained a steady din.
"I smell smoke," Croyd said.
"Me, too. If something's burning no fire truck's going to get to it."
"Whole damn town could burn down."
"Maybe it's not all like this."
"Bet it is."
They pushed ahead, were caught in a press of bodies and swept about the corner.
"We're not going this wayl" Croyd yelled.
But it did not matter, as the mass of people about them was halted seconds later.
"Think we can crawl through to the street and go over cars again?" Joe asked.
"Might as well try."
They made it. Only this time, as they worked their way back toward the corner it was slower, as others were taking the same route. Croyd saw a reptilian face through a windshield then, and scaly hands clutching at a steering wheel that had been torn loose from its column as the driver slowly slumped to the side. Looking away, he saw a rising tower of smoke from beyond buildings to the northeast.
When they reached the corner there was no place to descend. People stood packed and swaying. There were occasional screams. He wanted to cry, but he knew it would do no good. He clenched his teeth and shuddered.
"What're we going to do?" he called to Joe.
"If we're stuck here overnight we can bust the window on an empty car and sleep in it, I guess."
"I wart to go home!"
"Me, too. Let's try and keep going as far as we can." They inched their way down the street for the better part of an hour, but only made another block. Drivers howled and pounded on windows as they climbed over the roofs of their cars. Other cars were empty. A few others contained things they did not like to look at. Sidewalk traffic looked dangerous now. It was fast and loud, with brief fights, numerous screams, and a number of fallen bodies which had been pushed into doorways or off the curb into the street. There had been a few seconds' hesitation and silence when the sirens had stopped. Then came the sound of someone speaking over a bullhorn. But it was too far away. The words were not distinguishable, except for "bridges." The panic resumed.
He saw a woman fall from a building across the street and up ahead, and he looked away before she hit. The smell of smoke was still in the air, but there were yet no signs of fire in the vicinity. Ahead, he saw the crowd halt and draw back as a person-man or woman, he could not tell-burst into flames in its midst. He slid to the road between two cars and waited till his friend came up.
"Joe, I'm scared shitless," he said. "Maybe we should just crawl under a car and wait till it's all over."
"I've been thinking of that," the other boy replied. "But what if part of that burning building falls on a car and it catches fire?"
"What of it?"
"If it gets to the gas tank and it blows up they'll all go, this close together, like a string of firecrackers."
"Jesus!"
"We've got to keep going. You can come to my place if it seems easier."
Croyd saw a man perform a series of dancelike movements, tearing at his clothing. Then he began to change shape. Someone back up the road started howling. There came sounds of breaking glass.
During the next half-hour the sidewalk traffic thinned to what might, under other circumstances, be called normal. The people seemed either to have achieved their destinations or to have advanced their congestion to some other part of town. Those who passed now picked their way among corpses. Faces had vanished from behind windows. No one was in sight atop the buildings. The sounds of auto horns had diminished to sporadic outbursts. The boys stood on a corner. They had covered three blocks and crossed the street since they had left school.