: Nothing by Wollheim Donald A Musacchia John B Illustrator - Science fiction; Short stories; Bombings Fiction; World War 1939-1945 Fiction

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Illustrator: John B. Musacchia

NOTHING

The little man with the gray beard stared at me and I stared back at him. "This is getting us nowhere," I remarked, "nowhere at all."

He nodded and sat down on the hard stone. We were trapped under the building. The house had come down over us when the bomb landed in the street. The rest of the tenants were probably away or dead. Apparently only the little old man who lived on the second floor rear and I had gotten down to the bomb-proof cellar in time. And now we were trapped.

"We'll have to wait until they dig us out," I said. We couldn't possibly dig our own way out. Too much blocked us in. We were buried beneath tons of brick, rubbish and beams. They were probably busy in the street outside, trying to rescue the people in other, less-damaged buildings. Then again there might be fire, and the noise effectively blocked any chance of their hearing us.

I saw him only by the light of my little pocket flash. That wouldn't last very long. Our space was remarkably limited. This shelter had been a part of the cellar. It had been blocked off and roofed over, but even so, part of it fell in--the part with the supplies and stuff--the part opening on the exit.

"Well," I said, just to say something, "what do we do now? Sit around and wait to die?"

The little old man wrinkled his brow in thought. He didn't seem too worried about dying. I guess when you're his age and have a long gray beard you get reconciled to the prospect. But I was young, and frankly I didn't like the idea at all.

"I think I know a way," the little old man said finally, "but it will seem like madness. Probably it is. It's never been tried. It may never work."

I seized him by the lapels. "Any way is better than none. I'd rather die trying than sitting down moping my life away. Tell it to me."

"You won't laugh? You will take whatever I say seriously?" the little old man asked anxiously.

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