PHANTOM OF THE FOREST
By LEE FRANCIS
[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Amazing Stories November1948. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The automobile reached the crest of the hill, skidded and started towardthe ditch. Earl Robinson twisted the wheel savagely, got the feel of theice hidden under the snow, and deftly straightened the car. Roy Starrawakened at his side and sat up. His eyes were narrowed with sleep.
"Lord," he groaned, "how much farther?"
Robinson spoke through gritted teeth.
"About three miles. Might as well be a million."
The car was moving forward about twenty miles per hour. Three peopleslept in the rear seat. They were packed under pieces of equipment.There were half a dozen guns stacked across their feet.
The snow came down thickly, endlessly. It drifted across the road.Almost eight inches had fallen since sundown. Tomorrow, there won't beany traffic moving, Robinson thought, not without a plow to break thetrail. The valley will be a lost world.
"Shangrila," he said softly.
"Huh?" Roy Starr was almost asleep once more.
Robinson said, "Skip it."
He was thinking about the war, and the deep, lost valleys he flew intowhen he flew the "hump."
He tried to concentrate on the road once more. They had come six milesfrom Indian River. The road was just a white line, leading up and downlong rows of dark evergreens. The snow filled the air, tangling histhoughts, filling the world with stinging, blinding particles of white.The snow actually seemed to hurt his eyes. It seemed to be hitting hiseyeballs.
He shook his head angrily. Sleep was stinging his eyes. He watched thetrackless road with an intensity of a man hovering between life anddeath. Sleep—and death. Trying desperately to avoid both.
One more long hill.
Taking a long chance, he pressed the gas pedal down as far as it wouldgo. The motor roared, protested and the car leaped ahead like a monsteralive. The speedometer said fifty—then fifty-five. Sixty. At sixty theyhit the sharp incline. Roy Starr was wide awake now, holding tightly tothe door-handle, as though it insured him against an accident. Someonestirred in the back seat.
"Almost there?" It was a girl's voice, sleepy and disinterested.
"Almost," Earl Robinson said, and twisted the wheel again. The car wentcrosswise with the road. It slid forward, up the hill, careened wildlyand straightened its course once more. Robinson sighed.
"Close," he said.
"Earl, for God's sake, stop!!"
Roy Starr's voice welled out of him, filled with stark horror. Robinsonsaw the weird, shadowy form on the road just in time. He pressed hard onthe brake and the car jerked into the ditch, and stopped with asickening jolt.
The girl in the rear seat clawed her way forward, clutching Starr'sshoulder.
"A man on the road," she cried. "Earl, you hit him."
She started sobbing as though her heart were breaking.
"Shut up," Robinson snapped. His nerves had reached the breaking point.Then, in a gentler voice. "There's a man there all right, Marge. Ididn't hit him. Get hold of yourself. Glenn, Glenn, take care of her,will you?"
All three people in the rear seat were wide awake now. Glenn Starr,dark, serious, in full control of his wits, drew the sobbing girl backbeside him.
"Ta