Asimov's Magical Worlds of Fantasy 01 - Wizards by Isaac Asimov (ed.)

Author:Isaac Asimov (ed.) [Asimov, Isaac]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Sci Fi & Fantasy
Publisher: Signet
Published: 1986-01-18T00:00:00+00:00

I dropped to one knee, sighted and fired. One of the men fell but the other three came on, coats thrown open and hands bringing out knives. They were men with dark, alien features, like the crew on the Queen of Madagascar. They were perhaps fifty yards down the hall, which was already filled with ropes of acrid smoke and echoes of shots. A woman screamed in the distance. I remember two heads popping out of doors and drawing back hastily.

Gerasmin fired over my shoulder, carefully and steadily. The second of the killers fell. Almost immediately I fired again, and the third staggered and bumped against the wall, screeching in an unfamiliar singsong language, clutching his arm where a dark, ugly stain began to grow. Abruptly, Angela cried out and we whirled in time to see the fire escape door come open. The first of the men from the alley flung his knife at us, his mouth twisted into a thick-lipped snarl.

I shoved Gerasmin roughly and he tumbled into the open door of the suite. I flattened myself out, feeling the rough carpet slam into my face as the knife whispered by overhead. From the comer of my eye, I saw it bury itself in the woodwork a dozen inches above my head, whirring.

We were holding our own; they hadn’t been expecting us to be prepared, I suppose. This had evidently been the first move to eliminate Gerasmin, as well as me. The Indian leaned around the doorframe and triggered another shot. The knife-thrower was blown backwards through the fire escape door. He slammed into the railing, was thrown off balance, and went tumbling over the guard rail. His shriek dwindled as he fell toward the stones of the alley.

An alarm bell jangled down the corridor. I started to get to my feet, and just as I did Angela jerked the knife from the wall, her eyes wide with fright. She lashed out over my head. I ducked instinctively and heard a savage groan. When I turned again, I saw the fourth man of the quartet staggering back, an expression of bewilderment on his dark, primitive face. His head tilted back and the bowler fell off. He turned around, took a few steps, fell incongruously like a graceful ballet dancer, and lay still.

Angela’s shoulders were shaking. She stared down at the knife with its blade stained a bright liquid red. Her left hand was pressed to her cheek, white-knuckled. “I had to,” she breathed, not to us but to some great invisible jury of righteous men. “I had to kill him. He was almost on you…” She managed to glance at me, and then she began to sob, her shoulders slumping. “I’ve never killed anyone before. I’ve never…Her words were obliterated by the crying.

Gerasmin put his arm around her and led her back into the apartment. I followed, the smoking gun hanging from my hand. I was beginning to relax, feeling the strain seep out of my muscles. The three of us were in the vestibule, Gerasmin in the lead, when he stepped back suddenly and faced us.

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