Free Damnation Alley by Roger Zelazny Page B

cried, and the car moved forward, swaying, bat bodies crunching beneath its tires.
    Tanner laced the heavens with gunfire, and when they swooped again, he strafed them and fired a flare.
    In the sudden magnesium glow from overhead, it seemed that millions of vampire-faced forms were circling, spiraling down toward them.
    He switched from gun to gun, and they fell about him like fruit. Then he called out, "Brake, and hit the topside flame!" and Greg did this thing.
    "Now the sides! Front and rear next!"
    Bodies were burning all about them, heaped as high as the hood, and Greg put the car into low gear when Tanner cried, "Forward!" and they pushed their way through the wall of charred flesh.
    Tanner fired another flare.
    The bats were still there, but circling higher now. Tanner primed the guns and waited, but they did not attack again in any great number. A few swept about them, and he took potshots at them as they passed.
    Ten minutes later he said, "That's the Missouri River to our left. If we just follow alongside it now, we'll hit Saint Louis."
    "I know. Do you think it'll be full of bats too?"
    "Probably. But if we take our time and arrive with daylight, they shouldn't bother us. Then we can figure a way to get across the Missus Hip."
    Then their eyes fell upon the rearview screen, where the dark skyline of Kansas City with bats was silhouetted by pale stars and touched by the light of the bloody moon.
    After a time Tanner slept once more. He dreamed he was riding his bike, slowly, down the center of a wide street, and people lined the sidewalks and began to cheer as he passed. They threw confetti, but by the time it reached him it was garbage, wet and stinking. He stepped on the gas then, but his bike slowed even more and now they were screaming at him. They shouted obscenities. They cried out his name, over and over, and again. The Harley began to wobble, but his feet seemed to be glued in place. In a moment, he knew, he would fall. The bike came to a halt then, and he began to topple over toward the right side. They rushed toward him as he fell, and he knew it was just about all over. . . .
    He awoke with a jolt and saw the morning spread out before him: a bright coin in the middle of a dark-blue tablecloth, and a row of glasses along the edge.
    "That's it," said Greg. "The Missus Hip."
    Tanner was suddenly very hungry.
     
    After they had refreshed themselves, they sought the bridge.
    "I didn't see any of your naked people with spears," said Greg. "Of course, we might have passed their way after dark-_if there are any of them still around."
    "Good thing, too," said Tanner. "Saved us some ammo."
    The bridge came into view, sagging and dark save for the places where the sun gilded its cables, and it stretched unbroken across the bright expanse of water. They moved slowly toward it, threading their way through streets gorged with rubble, detouring when it became completely blocked by the rows of broken machines, fallen walls, sewer-deep abysses in the burst pavement.
    It took them two hours to travel half a mile, and it was noon before they reached the foot of the bridge, and, "It looks as if Brady might have crossed here," said Greg, eyeing what appeared to be a cleared passageway amidst the wrecks that filled the span. "How do you think he did it?"
    "Maybe he had something with him to hoist them and swing them out over the edge. There are some wrecks below, down where the water is shallow."
    "Were they there last time you passed by?"
    "I don't know. I wasn't right down there by the bridge. I topped that hill back there," and he gestured at the rearview screen.
    "Well, from here it looks like we might be able to make it. Let's roll."
    They moved upward and forward onto the bridge and began their slow passage across the mighty Missus Hip. There were times when the bridge creaked beneath them, sighed, groaned, and they felt it move.
    The sun began to climb, and still they moved forward, scraping their fenders against the