DEATH OF A MUTANT
By CHARLES V. De VET
illustrated by EMSH
He was born with strange and wonderful powers. But the
world was not yet ready to accept the benefit of those
powers.—The world kills what it does not understand!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Super-Science Fiction February 1957.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The boy stood on the low hill with his head tipped back and his throat exposed to the early morning chill. He was dressed in faded trousers—from which most of the tan coloring had long since been washed away—and a coarse blue-denim work shirt.
The wind swept his blond hair back in loose flat waves, and with soft insistence tugged at his slack-limbed body. He spread his legs wide, and breathed the morning air deep into his lungs. When he expelled the breath his shoulders relaxed, and his arms dropped to his sides, without strength.
Slowly, with an effort of will, he brought his attention back to his surroundings. Below him a dog began an excited barking. The barking changed abruptly to a yelp, and stopped.
The boy straightened and drew back a step. Down below a figure darted suddenly from a low patch of brush and ran to another, kicking up splashes of red sand. To his right a man's voice sounded a sharp cry of warning.