at forms were drifting through the trees, closing in on him. When he
shot two, the others snarled with rage and sank back into the forest.
They didn't leave. Instead of being frightened by the deaths they grew
even more enraged.

Jason sat with his back to the tree and waited until they came close
before he picked them off. With each shot and dying scream the outraged
survivors howled the louder. Some of them fought when they met, venting
their rage. One stood on his hind legs and raked great strips of bark
from a tree. Jason aimed a shot at it, but he was too far away to hit.

There were advantages to having a fever, he realized. Logically he knew
he would live only to sunset, or until his gun was empty. Yet the fact
didn't bother him greatly. Nothing really mattered. He slumped, relaxed
completely, only raising his arm to fire, then letting it drop again.
Every few minutes he had to move to look in back of the tree, and kill
any of them that were stalking him in the blind spot. He wished dimly
that he were leaning against a smaller tree, but it wasn't worth the
effort to go to one.

Sometime in the afternoon he fired his last shot. It killed an animal he
had allowed to get close. He had noticed he was missing the longer
shots. The beast snarled and dropped, the others that were close pulled
back and howled in sympathy. One of them exposed himself and Jason
pulled the trigger.

There was only a slight click. He tried again, in case it was just a
misfire, but there was still only the click. The gun was empty, as was
the spare clip pouch at his belt. There were vague memories of
reloading, though he couldn't remember how many times he had done it.

This, then, was the end. They had all been right, Pyrrus was a match for
him. Though they shouldn't talk. It would kill them all in the end, too.
Pyrrans never died in bed. Old Pyrrans never died, they just got et.

Now that he didn't have to force himself to stay alert and hold the gun,
the fever took hold. He wanted to sleep and he knew it would be a long
sleep. His eyes were almost closed as he watched the wary carnivores
slip closer to him. The first one crept close enough to spring, he could
see the muscles tensing in its leg.

It leaped. Whirling in midair and falling before it reached him. Blood
ran from its gaping mouth and the short shaft of metal projected from
the side of his head.

The two men walked out of the brush and looked down at him. Their mere
pres