the gas pedal; this time the car bucked so violently that he was thrown backwards. "Motorcycle!" he yelled, feet in the air.

The Earth Mother was rolling on the floor again. "You're trying to kill me! First you deef me then you try to kill me!"

He managed to get his foot back on the accelerator and the car spurted down the road. Markel fought the car grimly and got it under control, making it lurch in smoother leaps. When they finally rolled with reasonable normalcy down the road he looked into the rear-view mirror, but the road was empty. He drove furiously until he heard no sound but the rain. Banging his fist on the steering wheel, he said, "Gad! Am I to be pursued forever across a dead world by a deathless demon on a motorcycle?"

"I'm deef, I'm deef," said the Earth Mother.

When the rain stopped they took to the woods on foot. This time Markel did not try to rationalize the situation; he knew it was Rocky on the motorcycle. Markel's usual self-control was shaken and he needed time to think. He drove the convertible as far into the woods as he could and began throwing things from the back seat.

"Let him follow us in here on that damn motorcycle," he said. He made two packs; in one he put canned food, cooking utensils and some tools; in the other he put extra ammunition, extra shoes, a medicine kit, rope, and several boxes of matches. This latter pack he tied to the Earth Mother's shoulders, fastening it with makeshift straps. Before they left he locked the convertible and covered it with branches and brush. He intended eventually to come back for the books.

That first day in the forest they made very little progress. He got tired of picking the Earth Mother up when she fell, and she complained loudly about their pace. It was different in the woods: there were no ruins to anchor them to the past; the forest was aloof from even the ruined world. "I don't like it here. It's worse than the towns," the Earth Mother said, sprawling against a tree.

"You'll get used to it." Markel yanked a twig from a fallen branch and chewed it. He said softly, "But why doesn't he die? It doesn't make sense. If I were not a rational, intelligent, thinking being, I'd be frightened right now.

"Well, I'm frightened, all right."

Rolling over to face her, he propped himself on his elbow. "You associated with Rocky for a long time. What was he 

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