Charles activated the switches that would flash a schematic map of New York on the screen. "There's bound to be somebody else left here. After all, there were at least twenty of us just a couple of days ago." And one of them, a beautiful woman, had invited him up to her apartment, not because she liked him, but because....
The main screen focused itself, the patterns shifting into a recognizable perceptual image.
"Why, it was just yesterday (or was it the day before?) that ten of us, at least, met here to check the figures. There were lots of us alive then." Including the blond young woman who had died just this afternoon....
Charles stopped talking and forced his eyes upwards. Peripheral vision caught first the vague outlines of the lower part of the map. His eyes continued to move, slowly, reluctantly. They caught the over-all relief of Greater New York City—and then concentrated on the single, shining dot at the very heart of the map—and he understood.
His eyes stabbed quickly for the counter above the screen.
One.
He gasped.
The counter read one.
Charles was by himself, the last person alive in all of New York City.
He began to tremble violently. The silence of the room began to press quickly in on him. His frantic fingers searched for the computer controls.