ther group on the other side of the highway came running
out hauling a big old hay wagon. They set the wagon across the road and
then sloped into the ditch on either side of it.

I managed to dig the bare glimmer of firearms before I had to yank my
perception away from them and slam it back on the road in front. I was
none too soon, because dead ahead by a thousand feet or so, they were
hauling a second road block out.

Marian, not possessed of esper, cried out as soon as she read this new
menace in my mind. I rode the brakes easily and came to a stop long
before we hit it. In back sounded a crackle of rifle fire; in front,
three men came out waving their rifles at us.

I whipped the car back, spun it in a seesaw, and took off back towards
the first road block. Half way back I whirled my car into a rough
sideroad just as the left hand rear tire went out with a roar. The car
sagged and dragged me to a stop with my nose in a little ditch. The heap
hadn't stopped rocking yet before I was out and on the run.

"Steve!" cried Marian. "Come back!"

#To heck with it.# I kept right on running. Before me by a couple of
hundred yards was a thicket of trees; I headed that way fast. I managed
to sling a dig back; Marian was joining the others; pointing in my
direction. One of them raised the rifle but she knocked it down.

I went on running. It looked as though I'd be all right so long as I
didn't get in the way of an accidental shot. My life was once more
charmed with the fact that no one wanted me dead.

The thicket of woods was not as thick as I'd have liked. From a distance
they'd seemed almost impenetrable, but when I was running through them
towards the center, they looked pitifully thin. I could see light from
any direction and the floor of the woods was trimmed, the underbrush
cleaned out, and a lot of it was tramped down.

Ahead of me I perceived a few of them coming towards the woods warily,
behind me there was another gang closing in. I began to feel like the
caterpillar on the blade of grass in front of the lawn mower.

I tried to hide under a deadfall, knowing that it was poor protection
against rifle fire. I hauled out the Bonanza and checked the cylinder. I
didn't know which side I was going to shoot at, but that didn't bother
me. I was going to shoot at the first side that got close.

A couple of shots whipped by over my head, making noises like someone
snapping a bullwhip. I couldn't tell which direction t