The Big Eye Read Free

flights in slow stages, and hung up. Then he walked through the
terminal and out of the gate. A big black air-line limousine waited
for him, to take him to the Forty-second Street terminal. The other
limousines, coming from the city, were loaded with passengers. But he
was the only passenger in his car, headed for New York.
     
     
The driver, a big, beefy, red-faced man, raised the telephone receiver
on the dashboard and spoke briefly to the terminal in town. Then he
swung the big black car onto the Van Wyck Expressway and gave it the
gas. Theirs was the only car in the right-hand lane, and they raced
along at high speed. But the other lane, moving away from the city,
was clogged with cars, bumper to bmnper. Horns honked continuously,
and the drivers cut in and out of traffic.
     
     
They're all going in the same direction, away from town, thought David,
and they're all in a hell of a hurry.
     
     
He stared at the long line of headlights hugging the curves of the
parkway like a great illuminated snake.
     
     
"They've been heading out on Long Island like this for days," said
the driver. "Anywhere, so long as it's away from the city. Babylon,
Sayville, Southampton, Montauk Point -- the further, the better. You'll
find the same kind of traffic moving into Jersey, up into New England
and New York State. And I don't blame 'em."
     
     
"Still, you seem to be sticking it out," said David.
     
     
"Yeah." The driver lit a cigarette, and his fingers trembled a little.
"But don't get me wrong, mister. I'm just as scared as they are. The
company's giving me triple pay for staying on the job, and they flew my
wife and three kids out of town, but I'm going to quit in a couple of
days anyway. I don't like money enough to stick my neck out like this."
     
     
David glanced at the driver's face. It had that same taut, tense look,
the same haunted look he had seen at the airport. He felt a little
queasy. He knew that the same look had settled on his own face now,
like a cold gray mask.
     
     
You couldn't be here and not be afraid. Not now. . . .
     
     
He tried hard to be casual. "Where are they going to find room for all
these people?"
     
     
The driver shrugged. "I don't know. You take the island here now,
mister. It's jammed with extra people, all from the city. Must be half
a million of 'em anyway. They're living in shacks, out in the open,
anywhere. It's sure a hell of a situation. They declared martial law
out here yesterday."
     
     
"That bad, eh?"
     
     
"Yeah. And worse in the city. They've got a couple of Army divisions in
there now. Just to keep order. But as soon as everybody's out, I figure
they'll move the soldiers out. As it is, they're sitting ducks right
now." The driver shook his head. "You know about all the rumors flying
around these days, the funny things happening that nobody can explain.
You know who's behind it as well as I do, and what they're leading up to."
     
     
Yes, thought David, I know. That's why I'm here now. And that's why I
won't be here tomorrow morning. His fingers seemed to perspire damply
on the leather of his brief case as he caught the eye of the driver in
the reflector mirror.
     
     
"If you knew what I knew, driver, you'd turn this big black limousine
around and follow those other cars to wherever they were going, away
from the city.
     
     
The man at the wheel continued to talk. He was almost garrulous; he
seemed grateful for someone to talk to. It was easy to guess that he
had driven an empty car back to the main terminal time after time,
that David's presence was a surprise.
     
     
"You take those GIs now," he said sympathetically. "Those poor bastards
up ahead in town. A lot of 'em couldn't take it -- went over the hill --
deserted. They shot a couple of 'em last night." He shook his head.
"I don't blame 'em for cracking up. It's the waiting that drives you
nuts. It's beginning to get me too."
     
     
They continued down Van Wyck Expressway and into Queens Boulevard,
racing by