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The Last Man (Wordsworth Classics) | The Last Man (Wordsworth Classics) | Nordenholt's Million | Grave Predictions | After London | The Night Land | Darkness & Dawn | The Day of the Triffids
I was one hundred miles from Nowhere -- and I mean that literally -- when I spotted this girl out of the corner of my eye. I'd been keeping an extra lookout because I still expected the other undead bugger left over from the murder party at Nowhere to be stalking me. I'd been following a line of high-voltage towers all canted over at the same gentlemanly tipsy angle by an old blast from the Last War. I judged the girl was going in the same general direction and was being edged over toward my course by a drift of dust that even at my distance showed dangerous metallic gleams and dark humps that might be dead men or cattle. Fritz Leiber. Lord, what a talent.
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