Read Online The Fireman by Ray Bradbury - Free Book Online Page B

ownership of books," he said.
     
    The voice sharpened on the other end. "The address?"
     
    He gave it and added, "Better get there before they burn them. Check the kitchen."
     
    Montag stepped out and stood in the cold night air, waiting. At a great distance he heard the fire sirens coming, coming to burn Mr. Black's house while he was away at work, and make his wife stand shivering in the morning air while the roof dropped down. But now she was upstairs, deep in sleep.
     
    "Good night, Mrs. Black," said Mr. Montag. "You'll excuse me — I have several other visits to make."
     
    A RAP at the door. "Professor Faber!"
     
    Another rap and a long waiting. Then, from within, lights flickered on about the small house. After another pause, the front door opened.
     
    "Who is it?" Faber cried, for the man who staggered in was in the dark for a moment and then rushing past. "Oh, Montag!"
     
    "I'm going away," said Montag, stumbling to a chair. "I've been a fool."
     
    Professor Faber stood at the door listening to the distant sirens wailing off like animals in the morning. "Someone's been busy."
     
    "It worked."
     
    "At least you were a fool about the right things." Faber shut the door, came back, and poured a drink for each of them. "I wondered what had happened to you."
     
    "I was delayed." Montag patted his inside pocket. "The money's here." He took it out and laid it on the desk, then sat tiredly sipping his drink. "How do you feel?"
     
    "This is the first night in many years I've fallen right to sleep," said Faber. "That must mean I'm doing the right thing. I think we can trust me now. Once, I didn't think so."
     
    "People never trust themselves, but they never let others know. I suppose that's why we do rash things, expose ourselves in positions from which we don't dare retreat. Unconsciously, we fear we might give in, quit the fight, and so we do a foolish thing, like reading poetry to women." Montag laughed at himself. "So I guess I'm on the run. It'll be up to you to keep things moving."
     
    "I'll do my damnedest." Faber sat down. "Tell me about it. What you did just now, I mean."
     
    "I hid my remaining books in four firemen's homes. Then I telephoned an alarm. I figured I might be dead by morning, and I wanted to have done something before then."
     
    "God, I'd like to've been there."
     
    "Yes, the places burned very well."
     
    "Where are you going now?"
     
    "I don't know."
     
    "Try the factory section, follow the old rail lines, look up some of the hobo camps. I didn't tell you this before — maybe I didn't quite trust you yet, I don't know — but they were in touch with me last year, wanting me to go underground with them."
     
    "With tramps?"
     
    "There are a lot of Harvard degrees on the tracks between here and Los Angeles. What else can they do? Most of them are wanted and hunted in cities. They survive. I don't think they have a plan for a revolution, though; I never heard them speak of it. They simply sit by their fires. Not a very lively group. But they might hide you now."
     
    "I'll try. I'm heading for the river, I think, then the old factory district. I'll keep in touch with you.'
     
    "In Boston, then. I'm leaving on the three o'clock train tonight — or, rather, this morning. That's not long from now. There's a retired printer in Boston that I want to see with this money."
     
    "I'll contact you there," said Montag. "And get books from you when I need them, to plant in firemen's houses across the country."
     
    MONTAG drained his drink. "Do you want to sleep here a while?" Faber asked.
     
    "I'd better get going. I wouldn't want you held responsible."
     
    "Let's check." Faber switched on the televisor. A voice was talking swiftly:
     
    " — this evening. Montag has escaped, but we expect his arrest in 24 hours. Here's a bulletin. The Electric Dog is being transported here from Green Town — "
     
    Montag and Faber glanced at each other.
     
    " — You may recall the interviews recently