Wrath of the Volcano God Part Five

 

 

WRATH OF THE VOLCANO GOD

A Pulp Adventure

Part Five

The tiger exploded from the undergrowth, a snarling burst of fury.  It charged for the lithe girl in Igor's firm embrace.

Carlsbad jumped away, and let loose a shrill and fearful shriek.

The jungle cat leaped for the pair.  Igor flung the woman aside just before the tiger tackled him.  As the two savage brutes wrestled on the verdant jungle floor, Bethany jumped to her feet and bolted into the jungle. 

The tiger was a frantic flurry of razor-sharp talons, and even Igor Klugman's strong hands could not hold the cat the bay.  In desperation, Igor unholstered his pistol, thrust the barrel into the killer cat's toothy face and fired.

The animal yelped as it jumped off the big man.  With frantic ferocity, it wiped one paw against the powder burns that now covered its left eye. 

Free of the predator's weight, Igor sat up, leveled his pistol and barked off a second shot.  A miss!  But the big cat was spooked, obviously this prey had a bite it had not encountered before!  The thunderous resound and the fiery flash were enough make this hunter think twice.  It growled at the big man as if in retort, then disappeared into the lush underbrush, no doubt in search of an easier meal.

Carlsbad sighed in relief, looked around.  He swore, then cried:  "The girl!  After her!"

Bethany bounded through the rich foliage and soon came upon a winding stretch of water.  It was a flowing brown ribbon that cut through the green jungle.  It wasn't very wide, and looked shallow enough to fiord, though congested with a logjam of fallen tree trunks.

She paused upon the bank as a second look revealed the fallen tree trunks were in truth a float of crocodiles.  They seemed to eye her with an evil gaze as one rolled in the muddy water and some opened their jaws as though in anticipation.  With no more action that this, Bethany was convinced to reconsider her path.

Suddenly there was the snap of a branch in the jungle behind her.  A rustle of fern leaves sounded off to one side.  A heartbeat later, Carlsbad emerged from the jungle.  Bethany turned and sneered at his gloatful grin as Igor appeared a few feet to her left.

"You shouldn't wander off like that," Carlsbad said in a smooth growling voice, "It's far too dangerous to go off by yourself."  He flashed his teeth in a disconcerting smile.

Bethany glanced back and forth between the two men as they closed in upon her.  She frowned back at the former college professor.  "Don't be such a sissy, this place is a piece of cake!  Watch!"  She turned and sprinted for the river, despite Carlsbad's surprised screams.

She launched herself from the muddy bank, leapt for the nearest croc.  She landed on its back, and jumped for the next one.  From one to the next, she leap-frogged her way across the narrow river, leaving a path of thrashing lizards in her wake.  Her boots touched down on the far bank and turned back to view the stunned faces of her pursuers.

The amazement written on their faces matched the feeling she had inside, but the adrenaline overwhelmed its inevitable grip.  "Catch me if you can!" she chided them, then ran into the lush cover of the jungle, leaving the river, the crocodiles, and her pursuers behind.

*  *  *

Lewis groped and stumbled his way through the dark cave.  He rounded a curve and found a light ahead, glimmering with the promise of an exit.  With his hope buoyed, he rushed ahead.

There was an exit, a wide mouth in the cliff wall, easily large enough to walk through.  He quickly learned this exit was high in the center of the cliff, no more convenient than where he entered.  He turned skyward and found the cliff peaked only about a dozen yards above him, and a copse of palm trees leaned out over the edge as though they were expecting him.  Thick vines grew from that clump of trees, and clung to the rocky cliff-face. 

Resigned to this fate, Lewis inched his way along the ledge and took the leafy rope in his strong hands.  He tugged on the vine to test its strength, and was pleased when it didn't break.  Thanks to a combination of strong fingers and elbow grease, Lewis shimmied his way to the top of the cliff. 

Perched at the edge of the cliff, he looked around to get his bearings.  A streak of smoke stained the blue sky above the palm fronds, and he knew it leaked from the lip of the volcano.  With an estimate of where that landmark was, he could compose a mental map with his approximate location, and the relative locations of the demolished derelict, and the scuttled seaplane.  Armed with this knowledge, he continued his trek across the island.

He trudged through the jungle for nearly an hour before he heard the telltale rustle of another path being forged through the underbrush.  Lewis hid himself behind a tree and waited to see whether the newcomer was man or beast.  Moments later he found Bethany Gale approaching as she stumbled through the leafy terrain.

Lewis stepped out from his hiding place and called to her.

"Clark!  You're alive!" she exclaimed as she rushed to his side.  Suddenly she stopped and frowned.  "Where's Clapsaddle?"

Lewis hung his head.  "He didn't make it."  She released her breath in a short, baleful moan.  "Have you seen any sign of Miss Turnbull, or Johnson?" he asked.

"No, just Carlsbad and Klugman," she told him.

"Then we have to keep heading for the temple," he said, pointing in one direction.  "They should be making their way there."

"Right," Bethany agreed, "Let's go."

*  *  *

After an hour of marching, the jungle thinned and came to an end at the edge of the foothills that ringed the smoking volcano.  As they crested the short hillocks, they spied a smaller pillar of smoke stemming from some point south of the volcano, not too far from where they expected to find the Temple of Tiki-Taki. 

At last they found the source of that smoke.  It was a bonfire ringed by a collection of grass huts, in turn surrounded by dense jungle.  The encampment was alive with Kazooli warriors who danced around the fire to a rhythmic drumbeat.  Lewis and Bethany scanned the little village and soon spotted Sarah Turnbull as she was pulled--kicking and screaming--from a bamboo cage.

The natives pulled the blond girl before some authority figure dressed in a cloak of exotic feathers and a headdress made from the skull of a jungle cat.  He was Hokumba, the tribe's venerated Witch Doctor.  He regarded the slim girl with an appraising eye, administered a blessing with a wave of his feather-adorned scepter.  The warriors dragged her away, to a stake at the north-end of the village, beneath the stern gaze of the skull-face formed in the side of the volcano.

"This can't be good!" Bethany exclaimed.

Lewis ran his fingers through his hair, under his hat as his mind raced.  There was no time for fancy plans, there was barely time for action.  "You got a gun?" he asked.

Bethany checked her gear.  "No, just a knife."

Lewis harrumphed, handed her his pistol.  "I'm going in to get her," he told her.  "Cover me!" 

With an incredulous frown, she found the gun in her hand.  Before she could stop him, he bounded across the hills toward the native village.  "Can't be good!" she said again as she sought a better vantage point on the next hill.

Bethany crouched behind a bush and looked over the village below.  She watched, waiting for Lewis to make his move.  A voice cried out in surprise behind her, she turned and found herself staring into the business-end of a half-dozen native spears. 

She sighed.  "No good at all!" she declared as she raised her hands where they were clearly seen.  Her knife and gun were quickly seized by the natives.

The Kazooli patrol marched her down into the village, interrupting the celebration.  From her vantage point, Sarah called out in despair upon seeing her companion's capture.

"Hiya kid," Bethany called to her, "How ya holdin' up?"

"They're going to sacrifice me to the Volcano God!" Sarah wailed.

"Well...there's an experience you can't get in school..." Bethany suggested. 

Suddenly, she found herself before the Witch Doctor.  Hokumba looked her over, conferred with the advisors at his side.  The group looked back and forth between Bethany and Sarah, appraising them both.

"I wish I could tell what they're saying," Bethany remarked.

Sarah cocked her head to one side and listened intently.  "It sounds like they're debating whether you would make a better sacrifice than I."

Bethany snorted.  "Well, that would be one way to get you down from there..."

A cry erupted from the village, interrupting the conference between the Witch Doctor and his fellows.  The warriors parted and Nyfu stepped forward.  The noble savage made a passionate decree as he advanced through the mob, thrust one accusing finger at the newly-caught woman.  He punctuated the end of his speech with one deft wave of his hand, and Bethany found her knife embedded in the ground by her feet.

"I remember this guy," Bethany blanched beneath his gaze.  "What's his problem?"

"Apparently when you struck him, you bruised his pride!" Sarah told her.  "Now, he demands the right to fight you in a duel...to the death!"

To Be Continued...