hours. And then, finally, his teeth stopped chattering, and his breath came easily and evenly. He listened, straining to hear the baying of the dogs, but if it was there, the rushing water made it indistinguishable from any other sound.
At last he got to his feet and continued wading. The stream leveled out, and the rocky bottom was replaced by sand. The wading became easier, and Randy was no longer even tempted to leave the stream.
Ahead a light flashed.
Randy stopped and stood stock-still, staring into the darkness.
Was someone out there with a light, looking for him?
Once again the light flashed. Suddenly, Randy knew what it was.
Ahead of him there was a road, and the flashes of light were cars. He redoubled his efforts and forged ahead, splashing through the water, his mind filled with the memories of the previous summer, when he had been alone in the dark, then seen lights, and finally come to a road. Maybe it would happen like that again, and someone would find him and take him home.
He came to the bridge that carried the road over the stream. He was about to scramble up the bank to wave at the first car that came along, when he suddenly stopped.
What if Dr. Hamlin was out there in a car looking for him? Or Miss Bowen? Or any of them?
He couldn’t Just climb out.
But he couldn’t just keep wading up the stream either. He listened carefully. Here, where the stream slid quietly over a smooth bottom, the night was silent No matter how hard he tried, he could hear no dogs barking, no sounds of animals crashing through the forest toward him.
Maybe, if he was very careful, it was safe to leave the stream.
He tried to figure out which way the Academy might be. Behind him, he thought, and to the left.
Reluctantly, Randy left the water and made his way up the right bank, then, staying well back from the road, he began moving through the woods, making sure every few steps that the road was still in sight.
To pass the time he began counting his steps.
He had counted to six hundred and thirty-four, when he suddenly became aware of a light flashing in the distance.
Not the headlight of a car, for it wasn’t moving.
No, it was the light of a sign. He began running, and in a few moments he was able to read it.
The sign was for a diner, and its flashing message pulsated through the darkness:
OPEN ALL NIGHT
At last, Randy was safe.
Chapter 24
GEORGE HAMLIN GLANCED UP at the clock on the wall of his office. It was nearly ten, he was tired, and a long night of work stretched ahead of him. It was work he hated to have to do. Nevertheless, it had to be done. Now he faced his staff, and wondered if he looked as bad as they did. The five of them sat nervously in a semicircle around his desk, their faces drawn, their eyes furtive. Louise Bowen, upon whom Hamlin placed full responsibility for what was about to happen, sat with her head down, her fingers twisting at the fringe of a woolen shawl that was draped over her shoulders.
She looks old, Hamlin thought irrelevantly. She looks old and tired. Then he took a deep breath and began speaking.
“You all know what’s happened. This evening’s unfortunate events leave me no choice. The God Project is going to be suspended.”
A low murmuring rippled through the room, and the laboratory technician raised a tentative hand. “Isn’t there anything we can do?”
“I wish there were,” Hamlin replied. “But Randy Corliss is gone, and we have no way of recovering him. The dogs—the dogs lost his scent when he went into the stream. He’s gone, and that’s that. We have to assume that he’s alive, and that he’s going to get home, and that he’s going to talk about where he’s been.”
“But what about the burn-out?” someone asked.
Hamlin responded to the question with a twisted smile. “I suppose a miracle could be happening, and Randy could be lying dead out there somewhere right now. But I don’t think we can count on that, can we? We have to assume the worst—that Randy Corliss is alive. And so we are going to close the Academy. Tonight.”
Louise Bowen’s head came up, and she stared at Hamlin with a dazed look. “Tonight?” she repeated. “But—but what about the—”
Hamlin’s eyes fastened on her, their icy blue matching the coldness of his voice. “All the subjects will