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in school as the sunny three…o'clock stillness spills through the windows and the teacher corrects homework papers at her desk and the only sound is her pen； while somewhere； far away； kids pick up teams for scratch baseball。
Anyway； at last I did the only thing I could do。 I reversed the Scout carefully back to Kansas Road。 Then I cried。
Amanda touched my shoulder timidly。 〃David； I'm so sorry；〃 she said。
〃Yeah；〃 I said； trying to stop the tears and not having much luck。 〃Yeah； so am I。〃
I drove to Route 302 and turned left； toward Portland。 This road was also cracked and blasted in places； but was； on the whole； more passable than Kansas Road had been。 I was worried about the bridges。 The face of Maine is cut with running water； and there are bridges everywhere； big and small。 But the Naples Causeway was intact； and from there it was plain…if slow…sailing all the way to Portland。
The mist held thick。 Once I had to stop； thinking that trees were lying across the road。 Then the trees began to move and undulate and I understood they were more tentacles。 I stopped； and after a while they drew back。 Once a great green thing with an iridescent green body and long transparent wings landed on the hood。 It looked like a grossly misshapen dragonfly。 It hovered there for a moment； then took wing again and was gone。
Billy woke up about two hours after we had left Kansas Road behind and asked if we had gotten Mommy yet。 I told him I hadn't been able to get down our road because of fallen trees。
〃Is she all right； Dad？〃
〃Billy； I don't know。 But we'll e back and see。〃
He didn't cry。 He dozed off again instead。 I would have rather had his tears。 He was sleeping too damn Much and I didn't like it。
I began to get a tension headache。 It was driving through the fog at a steady five or ten miles an hour that did it； the tension of knowing that anything might e out of it； anything at all … a washout； a landspill； or Ghidra the Three…headed Monster。 I think I prayed。 I prayed to God that Stephanie was alive and that He wouldn't take my adultery out on her。 I prayed to God to let me get Billy to safety because he had been through so much。
Most people had pulled to the side of the road when the mist came； and by noon we were in North Windham。 I tried the River Road； but about four miles down； a bridge spanning a small and noisy stream had fallen into the water。 I had to reverse for nearly a mile before I found a spot wide enough to turn around。 We …；vent to Portland by Route 302 after all。
When we got there； I drove the cutoff to the turnpike。 The neat line of tollbooths guarding the access had been turned into vacant…eyed skeletons of smashed Pola…Glas。 All of them were empty。 In the sliding glass doorway of one was a torn jacket with Maine Turnpike Authority patches on the sleeves。 It was drenched with tacky； drying blood。
We had not seen a single living person since leaving the Federal。
Mrs。 Reppler said； 〃David； try your radio。〃
I slapped my forehead in frustration and anger at myself； wondering how I could have been stupid enough to forget the Scout's AM/FM for so long。
〃Don't do that；〃 Mrs。 Reppler said curtly。 〃You can't think of everything。 If you try； you will go mad and be of no use at all。〃
I got nothing but a shriek of static all the way across the AM band； and the FM yielded nothing but a smooth and ominous silence。
〃Does that mean everything's off the air？〃 Amanda asked。 I knew what she was thinking； maybe。 We were far enough south now so that we should have been picking up a selection of strong Boston stations … WRKO； WBZ； WMEX But if Boston had gone
〃It doesn't mean anything for sure；〃 I said。 〃That static on the AM band is pure interference。 The mist is having a damping effect on radio signals； too。〃
〃Are you sure that's all it is？〃
〃Yes；〃 I said； not sure at all。
We went south。 The mileposts rolled past； counting down from about forty。 When we reached Mile 1； we would be at the New Hampshire border。 Going on the turnpike was slower； a lot of the drivers hadn't wanted to give up； and there had been rear…end collisions in several places。 Several times I had to use the median strip。
At about twenty past one … I was beginning to feel hungry …Billy clutched my arm。 〃Daddy； what's that？ What's that！〃
A shadow loomed out of the mist； staining it dark。 It was as tall as a cliff and ing right at us。 I jammed on the brakes。 Amanda； who had been catnapping； was thrown for…ward。
Something came； again； that is all I can say for sure。 It may have been the fact that the mist only allowed us to glimpse things briefly； but I think just as likely that there are certain things that your brain simply disallows。 There are things of such darkness and horror…just； I suppose； as there are things of such great beauty … that they will not fit through the puny human doors of perception。
It was six…legged； I know that； its skin was slaty gray that mottled to dark brown in places。 Those brown patches reminded me absurdly of the liver spots on Mrs。 Carmody's hands。 Its skin was deeply wrinkled and grooved； and clinging to it were scores； hundreds； of those pinkish 〃bugs〃 with the stalk…eyes。 I don't know how big it actually was； but it passed directly over us。 One of its gray； wrinkled legs smashed down right beside my window； and Mrs。 Reppler said later she could not see the underside of its body； although she craned her neck up to look。 She saw only two Cyclopean legs going up and up into the mist like living towers until they were lost to sight。
For the moment it was over the Scout I had an impression of something so big that it might have made a blue whale look the size of a trout…in other words； something so big that it defied the imagination。 Then it was gone； sending a seismological series of thuds back。 it left tracks in the cement of the interstate； tracks so deep I could not see the bottoms。 Each single track was nearly big enough to drop the Scout into。
For a moment no one spoke。 There was no sound but our breathing and the diminishing thud of that great Thing's passage。
Then Billy said； 〃Was it a dinosaur； Dad？ Like the bird that got into the market ？〃
〃I don't think so。 I don't think there was ever an animal that big； Billy。 At least not on earth。〃
I thought of the Arrowhead Project and wondered again what crazy damned thing they could have been doing up there。
〃Can we go on？〃 Amanda asked timidly。 〃It might e back。〃
Yes； and there might be more up ahead。 But there was no point in saying so。 We had to go somewhere。 I drove on； weaving in and out between those terrible tracks until they veered off the road。
That is what happened。 Or nearly all…there is one final thing I'll get to in a moment。 But you mustn't expect some …neat conclusion。 There is no And they escaped from the mist into the good sunshine of a new day； or When we awoke the National Guard had finally arrived； or even that great old standby： It was all a dream。
It is； I suppose； what my father always frowningly called fan Alfred Hitchcock ending；〃 by which he meant a conclusion in ambiguity that allowed the reader or viewer I to make up his own mind about how things ended。 My father had nothing but contempt for such stories； saying they were 〃cheap shots。〃
We got to this Howard Johnson's near Exit 3 as dusk began to close in； making driving a suicidal risk。 Before that； we took a chance on a bridge that spans the Saco River。 It looked badly twisted out of shape； but in the mist it was impossible to tell if it was whole or not。 That particular game we won。
But there's tomorrow to think of； isn't there？
As I write this； it is a quarter to one in the morning； July the twenty…third。 The storm that seemed to signal the beginning of it all was only four days ago。 Billy is sleeping in the lobby on a mattress that I dragged out for him。 Amanda and Mrs。 Reppler are close by。 I am writing by the light of a big Delco flashlight； and outside the pink bugs are ticking and thumping off the glass。 Every now and then there is a louder thud as one of the birds takes one off。
The Scout has enough gas to take us maybe another ninety miles。 The alternative is to try to gas up here； there is an Exxon out on the service island； and although the power is off； I believe I could siphon some up from the tank。 But
But it means being outside。
If we can get gas…here or further along … we'll keep going。 I have a destination in mind now； you see。 It's that last thing I wanted to tell you about。
I couldn't be sure。 That is the thing； the damned thing。 It might have been my imagination； nothing but wish fulfillment。 And even if not； it is such a long chance。 How many miles？ How many bridges？ How many things that would love to tear up my son and eat him even as he screamed in terror and agony？
The chances are so good that it was nothing but a daydream that I haven't told the others 。。。 at least； not yet。
In the manager's apartment I found a large batteryoperated multiband radio。 From the back of it； a flat antenna wire led out through the window。 I turned it on； switched over to BAT。； fiddled with the tuning dial； with the SQUELCH knob； and still got nothing but static … dead silence。
And then； at