s lungs were
bursting, his entire body aflame.

He looked down at his fast-pumping legs, doing their job with pistoned
precision. He listened to the sharp slap of his heels against the floor
of the tunnel--and he thought: I might die at any moment, but my _legs_
will escape! They will run on down the endless drains and never be
caught. They move so fast while my heavy awkward upper-body rocks and
sways above them, slowing them down, tiring them--making them angry. How
my legs must hate me! I must be clever and humor them, beg them to take
me along to safety. How well they run, how sleek and fine!

Then he felt himself coming apart. His legs were detaching themselves
from his upper-body. He cried out in horror, flailing the air with his
arms, beseeching them not to leave him behind. But the legs cruelly
continued to unfasten themselves. In a cold surge of terror, Lewis
Stillman felt himself tipping, falling toward the damp floor--while his
legs raced on with a wild animal life of their own. He opened his mouth,
high above the insane legs, and screamed.

Ending the nightmare.

He sat up stiffly in his cot, gasping, drenched in sweat. He drew in a
long shuddering breath and reached for a cigarette. He lit it with a
trembling hand.

The nightmares were getting worse. He realized that his mind was
rebelling as he slept, spilling forth the bottled-up fears of the day
during the night hours.

He thought once more about the beginning six years ago, about why he was
still alive, the last of his kind. The alien ships had struck Earth
suddenly, without warning. Their attack had been thorough and deadly. In
a matter of hours the aliens had accomplished their clever mission--and
the men and women of Earth were destroyed. A few survived, he was
certain. He had never met any of them, but he was convinced they
existed. Los Angeles was not the world, after all, and if _he_ escaped
so must have others around the globe. He'd been working alone in the
drains when the alien ships appeared, finishing a special job for the
construction company on B tunnel. He could still hear the weird sound of
the mammoth ships and feel the intense heat of their passage.

Hunger had forced him out and overnight he became a curiosity. The last
man alive. For three years he was not harmed. He worked with them,
taught them many things, and tried to win their confidence. But,
eventually, certain ones came to hate him, to be jealous of his
relationship w