Overman grinned at him, a wolfish grin. "Sure," he said, "that's why
you held it on me all the way out here."
"But I knew, and you didn't. That makes a difference, doesn't it? Don't
you see, it wouldn't be loaded. It's only a war souvenir. You're not
supposed to keep war souvenirs loaded. Well, are you?"
Overman looked uncertainly at the weapon, then at Horner. He got a
fingernail under the edge of the ammo clip in the butt and was about to
spring it when he said, "You're bigger'n me. If it ain't loaded, why
don't you--"
Horner cried, "I'm going to!" and leaped at Overman. The gun bucked
between them, went off. Horner felt the heat of the slug's passage in
the air, then was grappling with Overman. The smaller man brought his
knee up and a wave of nausea engulfed Horner. He clung to Overman,
waiting for it to pass, keeping the Luger out of reach by holding
Overman's wrist up over his head.
Overman's knee blurred up again, but this time Horner pivoted and
caught it on his thigh. He lashed out with his free hand, striking
Overman with all his might across the face, open-handed. Overman
staggered back, stunned. Horner followed through with a short left
hook, and the fight was over.
* * * * *
"I just phoned the police," auburn-hair said, coming out. "I--wha--"
"Stand still," said Horner. "Better yet, let's go inside." He turned to
his wife. "Listen, Jane. The cops. I'll have to run. There's no way of
proving--well, you know. But I want you to come with me. I love you."
"I couldn't go with you. Like this. Twice your age. I--"
"I don't want you to. You like this girl's looks? She's very pretty--"
"Now wait a minute!" shrieked auburn-hair.
"You wait. I don't know how many suckers you trapped in convict's
bodies. You deserve whatever you get--like, for example, losing twenty
years."
Jane said, "But--but what is wrong with growing older the way we're
growing older?"
"Nothing," Horner told her quietly, "if we'd allowed ourselves to live.
But we didn't. We just existed, always promising to do the things
tomorrow--the things we always wanted to do--which somehow we never got
around to. If you live, there's nothing wrong with growing old. But
we haven't lived. And now, now Jane darling, we have a second chance.
Jane--will you?"
She looked at him. There were tears in her eyes. "Yes," she said
finally. "Oh, yes, Hugh!"
Horner gave Jane the Luger. "Take her inside," he said. "I'd better get
Overman."
The girl said, "You'll never get away with it," as Horner lifted
the unconscious Overman to his shoulder and entered the house. "I've
already called the police. They're on their way."
"Then we have nothing to lose," Horner said. "If you don't work fast,
I'll kill you. You understand?"
She looked at his face, studying him. She began to tremble. "But I
don't want to be old!" she wailed.
"And I didn't want to be a convict--and neither did all those other
men, whatever prisons they're in now. Get a move on."
* * * * *
There was a room. Two tables and machinery. Jane got on one of the
tables, auburn-hair on the other. Auburn-hair was crying softly,
bitterly. It was, Horner knew, just retribution. Probably, it was the
only retribution ever meted out to her.
"We'll have to run for it, maybe the rest of our lives," Horner told
Jane. "You want to?"
"With you? Yes, yes!"
Crying, auburn-hair told him what to do. Distantly, sirens were
wailing. Horner activated the switches....