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The surviving people； he found； were generally singles； occasionally couples。 They were anchored firmly in their own places。 Sometimes they seemed to wish that he would stay there with them； but they never wished to acpany him。 He still did not find any of them with whom he wished to share the future。 If necessary； he thought； he could return。
The country in some ways showed more change than the towns； although one would hardly have imagined so to begin with。 But in the country the crops were growing up rankly with weeds。 In this part； the wheat had not been cut at the time of the disaster； and now it was heavy in the head and the grains in some places had started to fall。 The cattle and horses wandered about； and fences were obviously starting to go。 Here and there a field of would remain undisturbed when the fence was tight； but more often the animals had forced an entrance。
Then； one morning； he crossed the Delaware River into New Jersey； and realized that he could reach New York by early afternoon。
Chapter 4
He came to the Pulaski Skyway about noon。 Once before； as a boy of fifteen； he had driven there with his father and mother。 Then the streaming traffic had half terrified him； trucks and cars had e roaring in； seeming to converge from all directions； and then suddenly to drop out of sight again as they went off onto the down…ramps。 He remembered his father gazing anxiously； this way and that； to watch the traffic…signs； and his mother nervously giving…advice。 But now； Princess slept on the front seat beside him； and he speeded along the Skyway by himself。
Far ahead now he saw the high towers of the sky…scrapers； pearl…gray against a cloudy sky； there had been a shower； and the day was cool for mid…summer。
When he saw those towers； his feelings were strangely stirred。 Now he knew； what he would not have been quite able to explain before； why he had headed for New York； even unconsciously。 This； to every American； was the center of the world。 According to what happened in New York； so in the long run； he could only think； it must happen elsewhere…〃Falls Rome； falls the world。〃
When he came to the clover…leaf above Jersey City； he stopped in the middle of the Skyway to read the signs。 No brakes squealed suddenly behind him； no horns blared； no truck…drivers bawled obscenities at him for blocking the road； no policemen shouted through loud…speakers。 〃At least；〃 he thought； 〃life is quieter。〃
From far off； he just caught the sound； some bird squawked twice…a seagull probably。 The only other sound was the nearly imperceptible murmur of his own idling engine； as drowsy as the hum of bees。 There at the last moment he flinched from trying either of the tunnels。 Untended； they might have gradually filled with water； and he had a vague fear of being trapped。 He swung north； and at last crossed by the empty George Washington Bridge； and came to Manhattan。
Stretched out between its rivers； the city will remain for a long time。 Stone and brick； concrete and asphalt； glass…time deals gently with them。 Water leaves black stains； moss shows green； a little grass springs up in the cracks。 （That is only the surface。） A window…pane grows loose； vibrates； breaks in a gusty wind。 Lighming strikes； loosening the tiles of a cornice。 A wall leans； as footings yield in the long rains； after years have passed； it falls； scattering bricks across the street。 Frost works； and in the March thaw some flakes of stone scale off。 （It is all very slow。） The rain washes quietly through the gutters into the storm…drains； and if the storm…drains clog； the rain runs still through the gutters into the rivers。 The snow piles deep in the long canyons； drifting at the street corners； no one disturbs it。 In the spring； it too runs off through the gutters。 As in the desert； a year is like an hour in the night； a century； like a day。
Indeed the city is much like the desert。 From the asphalt and concrete…coated soil the rain runs off both ways into the rivers。 Here and there in a crack the subtle grass and the hardy weeds grow up a little； but no tree or vine or tall grass takes root。 The very shade trees by the avenues； lacking man's care； die in their shallow pockets。 The deer and the rabbits shun the empty streets； after a while even the rats go away。 Only the flying creatures find there a refuge…the birds nest on the high ledges； and at morning and evening the bats fly out and in through the few broken windows。 It will remain a long time； a very long time。
He turned south on Broadway； thinking to follow it clear to the Battery。 At 170th Street； however； he came to a very official…looking STREET CLOSED sign with an arrow directing him to detour eastward。 He could have driven past the sign and ahead； but he felt a caprice to yield docilely to instructions。 He drove over to Amsterdam Avenue； and then went south again。 His nostrils let him know that the Medical Center must have been one of the last points of concentration； and that the detour sign had been put up to give directions around it。
Amsterdam Avenue was vacant too。 Somewhere in these vast accumulations of concrete and brick and mortar and plaster； somewhere in all these cave…like holes that men called rooms； somewhere certainly； some people must be living。 The catastrophe had been nearly universal； and in overcrowded Manhattan the disease had probably raged even more severely than elsewhere。 Also； he thought； what he had e to call the Secondary Kill might have been more severe in a wholly urbanized population。 Nevertheless； he had already learned； that a few people had survived elsewhere； and surely among the millions of Manhattan there would be some。 But he did not bother to blow his horn； a mere straggler here and there he had found to be of little interest to him now。
He drove on； block after block。 Everything was quiet and motionless。 The clouds had broken； and the sun stood high overhead； but the sidewalks were as empty as if the sun had been the moon and the hour had been three in the morning。 Even then he would have seen a beat…walking policeman or have met a night…hawk cab。 He passed an empty playground。
A few cars were parked along the curbs。 He remembered that his father had driven him through downtown Manhattan on a Sunday when even Wall Street lay deserted。 This was much the same； but worse。
At last； near Lewisohn Stadium； nuzzling around an entryway； two thin…looking dogs supplied the first sign of life。 In the next block he saw a few pigeons fluttering about； not many。
He drove on； passed the red…brick buildings of Columbia' University； and stopped in front of the high； still unfinished cathedral。 It was unfinished now； and so it would remain。
He pushed at the door； it swung open； he entered。 Momentarily he had a horrible thought that he might find the nave； Piled with the bodies of those who at the last hour had gathered there to pray。 But there was no one。 He walked down a side aisle； and went into the little chapels of the apse； one after another…those where the English and the French and the Italians and all the others of that teeming polyglot city had been invited to kneel and worsh