Only two small groups of people—enemies—survive the vast desolation of the Final War.
d merciful blackness welled up in Allan's brain....
* * * * *
A cool liquid was in his mouth. He swallowed instinctively, and warmth ran through his veins. He felt strength flooding back into him--and he remembered horror.
"That's better," a mellow voice said, close above him. "Drink just a little more." The cool liquid came up against Allan's lips again, pungent, and he drank. Once more strength surged warmingly within him. "That's a good fellow. A little more now."
Fingers were on Allan's wrist, life-warm. There was friendliness in the voice that was speaking to him, and solicitude. He dared to look.
A skull-like head was right before him. But seen thus closely, the terror of it was lessened. Fleshless indeed it was. But a parchment skin was tightly drawn over the bones, and Allan could see that its true shade was a sere yellow. It was the bluish light that had given it the green of decay. The deep-sunk eyes were kindly; they gleamed with pleasure as Allan's opened; and th
Truly a nasty piece of work. If you enjoy pre-WWII pulp sf, you learn to expect a certain amount of casual racism and some occasional xenophobia, but this is the first time I've seen quite such a blatant two-fer of villainy: both a sinister Oriental and a brutal, gorilla-like African. And naturally, they both lust after the nubile young white woman. The story culminates in an act of genocide, leaving a devastated Earth to be re-populated by a handful of WASPs. Might have some interest for a student of post-apocalyptic literature, or of the darker side of the 1930s American psyche, otherwise, don't waste your time.