Free The Avenger 5 - The Frosted Death by Kenneth Robeson

ferment.”
    “So the most harmless things,” observed Josh, “can be turned into the deadliest weapons—if the minds of men desire it.”
    “Yes! Here’s an instance of it.”
    Josh stared at the one piece of meat not covered by the mold.
    “And you’ve actually found the antidote for it? Something to stop it?”
    Mac nodded, too tired for superfluous words.
    “Then we must start phoning at once—give the formula to every doctor and laboratory in town—”
    “That’s the catch,” said Mac. “There’s no formula to give. This antidote isn’t a chemical to be mixed up, Josh. It’s a living organism, itself. A kind of parasite that attacks the white mold and devours it. Having devoured it, the parasite withers and dies. It can be cultivated swiftly—as swiftly as the mold. But only from its own kind.”

    He pointed to two small jars, full of blue-green stuff.
    “That’s the stuff that will do the trick. Applied to a victim of the frosted death, it will eat out the mold in half an hour. There’s enough in those two jars to give a bit to every laboratory in the state. From that bit, each can cultivate his own supply.”
    “Two jars?” said Josh, eyes narrowing.
    “Yes. You know why. One for each of us to carry to Bleek Street, to the chief, for distribution. Are the men still near the store?”
    Josh nodded.
    He had been sitting sleepily at the soda fountain devouring maplenut sundaes, not alone to be on hand if needed—but, also, to watch from the window.
    He had been in the store for three hours. And all of that time there had been several foreign-looking men idly propping up building walls, nearby.
    Somebody knew, somehow, that experiments with the white stuff were being conducted in the back of the store. And somebody had sent a guard to surround the place.
    “A jar for each of us to carry,” Mac repeated to the tall, gangling Negro. “ One of us must get through! No matter how many try to stop us.”
    Josh nodded, eyes clear and alert. Then they clouded.
    “You have worked a lot with this deadly stuff,” he said. “Are you sure you’re all right? Uncontaminated?”
    “I’m all right,” Mac said. “The stuff’s funny. The spores will get to any meat within ten yards. But the developed mold won’t leave that meat, even for other meat, unless actually carried off by touch. And ye can be sure I’ve not touched the frosted death! I’ve even worn medicated felt pads up my nostrils so I won’t take a chance on inhaling any. No, I’m all right. And so will the city be—if one of us gets through with the antidote.”
    “This is something well worth dying for,” Josh said.
    “We can’t afford to die! We’ve got to get through, I tell ye!”
    “I’ll go out the front way—”
    “That’s the most dangerous,” Mac argued. “I’ll take that way.”
    “It’s least dangerous,” said Josh, who could be as twisty as a Philadelphia lawyer when he wanted to gain a point. And he wanted badly to gain this—to take the most risk. Mac was more valuable than he was, he thought. “In broad daylight, on a crowded street—who would try anything?”
    Mac wasn’t quite taken in, but there was no time for arguments.
    “All right,” he said. “You go out the front way, and I’ll take the rear. But— get through!”

    Josh picked up his small jar as if it had contained gems. But even that was a poor simile. The contents of that jar were many times more priceless than a pint of diamonds.
    He went out the laboratory door into the store. With the moment of his exit, he became sleepy-looking again. He shuffled, looking as if he were too lazy to lift his huge feet clear of-the floor. He ambled to the street door as if he had nothing on his rather empty mind but his black, kinky hair. He stepped out onto the sidewalk—
    Josh Newton could fight like a black panther, and was as fearless and fast as one. But he was undone by his natural conviction that no group of men would try anything fantastic