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eyes were bloodshot and his body terribly thin.
"Can I get you something to eat?" he asked gently. "There's still some
cans of food in the kitchen."
"Thank you kindly, Mr. Blake, but I'm not a bit hungry. I'll eat later
perhaps. I'm feeling much better."
"You look better, and that's a fact. I've never seen you more beautiful."
His voice, she noted, was not strong, and had a quaver in it. They'd taken
turns nursing each other, and that had seemed to be working quite well
until last night when, four hours at time, neither of them had been
altogether sane.
"I was thinking," he began. "It being such a fine morning, maybe you
and I can go for a walk."
"A walk?" It sounded like such an insane suggestion she wondered if he
was in a fever again, but no& fever gave a certain high quickness to a
man's voice, and he sounded perfectly normal. A walk? Why not? People
go for walks all the time.
"Down to the river," he said. "That's not far."
Was he joking? No, he was slowly, painfully, dragging himself to his
feet. For a moment he stood there swaying and blinking, then, with
shuffling sandaled feet, he came over and extended his hand to help her
up.
Could she stand up? Yes, much to her own surprise, she could.
Very slowly, pausing every few steps to gather strength, they made their
way to the front door and out into the street.
Several times Kate felt as if her legs would give way under her, but each
time William was there, holding her, keeping her from falling.
"You're a good man," she whispered. "I always knew it."
He did not answer. Perhaps the effort of walking took all his energy.
As they reached the intersection a pack of gaunt dogs appeared around
a corner and, seeing them, came forward slowly, curiously. One, who
seemed to be the leader, showed his teeth and let out a low growl.
"Go on!" shouted William, bending over and picking up a rock from the
cobblestone street. When he raised the rock as if to throw it, the pack of
dogs fled, but not very far, and when William and Kate continued on their
way, the dogs followed at a safe distance.
"They want to eat us," Kate said softly.
"Nonsense. They're just overfriendly."
Kate did not believe him. She had heard that growl. But she was not
afraid. It seemed right and good that the dogs should eat her. Nature was
like that.
As she looked around she saw birds everywhere. There had never been
so many birds in the neighborhood. And there were other animals too.
Squirrels. Chipmonks.
And an occasional huge rat that did not flee as rats used to do, but
stood its ground in the middle of the street and watched them with
fearless little eyes, so they had to detour around.
In every yard the weeds formed a small jungle, and in each jungle there
were eyes.
She would die today. She knew it. And all the dogs and birds and
squirrels and chipmunks and rats would eat her, because her man would
die too and there would be no one to stop them. And that was fine. That
was exactly as it should be.
A small breeze made itself felt, a welcome breeze, because either the
day had become suddenly very hot or the effort of walking was too much
for her& "The fever's coming on again," she whispered. "We'll be at the
river soon. We can rest there." His voice was strained, desperate. Was he
getting a fever too? They paused to rest.
The dogs settled themselves on their haunches, tails wagging, tongues
hanging, intelligent eyes fixed on the Blakes with a calculating gaze. They
were closer than they had been.
But the sun was so warm. Everything was so quiet. The birds sang. The
insects hummed. The cobblestones glistened, already beginning to dry.
She'd never seen a more perfect day.
Then, without warning, William fell. She bent over him, concerned yet
somehow detached. "Are you all right, Mr. Blake?"
He rolled over. "Yes, yes. A little dizzy there, that's all. I'll be on my feet
in a minute."
But he found he could not stand, and she did not have the strength to
lift him.
"Damned nuisance," he muttered, and began to crawl on all fours. The
dogs came a little closer. She tottered along beside him. Her thoughts
grew vague.
When she was thinking again she found herself on the bridge, alone,
leaning against the cement rail. Puzzled, she looked around. Where was
William? Ah, there he was!
He was about a block behind her, inching along on his belly toward her.
The dogs were following him very closely, only a few yards from him.
"Go away! Go away, you!" she screamed at the dogs. They paid no
attention to her. The lead dog's teeth were showing, so he seemed to be
smiling.
"Go away! Leave Mr. Blake alone!" she shouted.
The lead dog rushed forward, sniffed at William's ankle.
"No!" cried Kate. It was no longer a beautiful day. It was horrible. Hot
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