Collins turned onto the old McHenty blacktop, his foot pressed to the
floorboards. Ed Michaels didn't own a car; he would have to borrow one
from somebody. That would take time. Maybe Candle would give him his
hearse to use to follow the Black Rachel.
Trees, fences, barns whizzed past the windows of the cab and then the
steel link-mesh fence took up, the fence surrounding the New Kansas
National Spaceport. Behind it, further from town, some of the concrete
had been poured and the horizon was a remote, sterile gray sweep.
The McHenty Road would soon be closed to civilian traffic. But right now
the government wanted people to drive along and see that the spaceship
was nothing terrible, nothing to fear.
The girl, Nancy Comstock, was alive in the back. He knew that. But he
couldn't stop to prove it or to help her. Candle would make them lynch
him first.
Why hadn't Candle stopped him from getting away?
He had managed to break his control for a second. He had done that
before when he deflected Nancy's aim. But he couldn't resist Candle for
long. Why hadn't Candle made him turn around and come back?
Candle's control of him had seemed to stop when he got inside the cab of
the truck. Could it be that the metal shield of the cab could protect an
Earthling from the strange mental powers of the creature from another
planet which was inhabiting the body of Doc Candle?
Collins shook his head.
More likely Candle was doing this just to get his hopes up. He probably
would seize control of him any time he wanted to. But Collins decided to
go on playing it as if he did have some hope, as if a shield of metal
could protect him from Candle's control. Otherwise ... there was no
otherwise.
* * * * *
Collins suddenly saw an opening.
The steel mesh fence was ruptured by a huge semitrailer truck turned on
its side. Twenty feet of fence on either side was down. This was
restricted government property, but of course spaceships were hardly
prime military secrets any longer. Repairs in the fence had not been
made instantaneously, and the wreckage was not guarded.
Collins swerved the wheel and drove the old wagon across the
waffle-plate obstruction, onto the smooth tarmac beyond.
He raced, raced, raced through the falling night, not sure where he was
headed.
Up above he saw the shelter of shadows from a cluster of half-finished
buildings. He drove into them and parked.
Collins sat still for a moment, then threw open the door and ran around
to the back of the truck, jerking open the handles.
Nancy fell out into his arms.
"What kind of ambulance is this?" she demanded. "It doesn't look like an
ambulance. It doesn't smell like an ambulance. It looks like--looks
like--"