Wrath of the Volcano God Part Seven

 

 

WRATH OF THE VOLCANO GOD

A Pulp Adventure

Part Seven

Carlsbad flexed his fingers around the handle of the revolver as he pointed the barrel at Lewis Clark.  "You've arrived just in time," the Professor proclaimed, "I was about to venture down this narrow walkway over the lake of molten rock to retrieve the Heart of Tiki-Taki..."  He flashed a wicked grin.  "But now you can retrieve it for me!" 

With a wave of the gun, he urged Lewis to edge of the precipice.  The walkway was a narrow rock bridge and as it stretched out before him he was reminded of the time he was forced to walk the plank on the long-lost pirate ship, the One-Eyed Jacqueline.  The primary difference was that this was not meant to be a one-way trip, though this fact offered him little hope. 

The revolver prodded him in the shoulder.  "Don't dally, now," Carlsbad growled. 

Lewis drew in a fortifying breath, took his first tentative step.  The walkway was scarcely wider than his sturdy hiking boot.  Holding his arms out to steady himself, steam rising from the liquid rock just below, he gathered all his nerve to pull his other foot onto the bridge, abandoning the wide floor. 

At that moment, Nyfu leapt into the large room, his arms flailing as he spat out a stream of angry words.  Carlsbad turned and his gun barked in reply, a sound that echoed in the vast hall in the volcano.  Nyfu recoiled, staggered back, dropped his knife, and pressed both hands against the hole above his belly.  

The native slammed his back against the wall, pulled one hand from his wound and saw it was red with blood.  With hate-filled eyes he looked up at Carlsbad, then turned and staggered back down the hall, one hand leaving a bloody streak on the wall all the way to the Temple entrance.  He tried to call down to his fellows, but could only cough instead.  Nyfu fell out of the skull's mouth and tumbled down the Temple steps. 

His tribesmen surrounded him, and Hokumba lifted him up from where he landed.  The Witch Doctor called the brave warrior's name, but earned no response.  In that moment he knew the young warrior was dead, and it started a wellspring inside him, one that filled his heart with grief, and anger. 

Hokumba held the dead warrior in his arms, but looked up at the terrible visage that was the Temple of the Volcano God.  It was in that moment of despair that he commanded his warriors to seek out vengeance:  "Bree-yark!"

The cry was taken up by the rest of the Kazooli warriors as they raised their spears and knives.  With a rallying cry, Hokumba stood and led his warriors up the Temple steps.

*  *  *

The Kazooli warrior staggered back toward the entrance, leaving the university expedition to Carlsbad and his hulking brute, Klugman.  But the warrior caused all the distraction that Wayne needed.  He slyly slipped out a stick of dynamite, lit the fuse and chucked it toward the lava. 

Carlsbad reached up and snatched it out of the air.  "An admirable attempt, Mr. Johnson," he cooed.  He dared not pull the revolver away from Lewis, so instead he raised the dynamite to his lips, seized the long fuse in his teeth, and pulled the stick away.  He spat the burning string to the stone floor as he held the red stick aloft.  "Too bad it didn't work."  Then he waved Lewis to continue after the jewel. 

Suddenly, the vast chamber was filled with the growing echoes of Kazooli war cries.  The air was filled with whoops, hollering, and repeated cries of "Bree-yark!"  A spear shot through the doorway and impaled Wayne in the chest.  He called out in surprise and pain as he slammed against the wall and slid down to the floor. 

"What..." was all Carlsbad managed to ask before Lewis leapt at him and let his fist fly.  He nailed the Professor in the jaw, causing him to drop the gun and the dynamite.  Both clattered to the floor and were kicked back and forth as the two traded punches.

Then the Kazoolis burst into the room, their clubs, knives, and spears waving wildly in search of bloody vengeance.  His eyes widening at this new development, Igor held the industrialist's short daughter before him, though she made a poor human shield.  He stretched out his gun-arm and fired at the incoming mob.  Once, twice, three times!  Kazooli warriors fell to the floor, but more filed in from the entrance hall. 

Spears and knives flew past them and Sarah panicked.  She buried her teeth into Klugman's beefy arm and stomped on his foot with all the strength she could muster.  With a small cry he released her to shake the pain away and she jumped aside. 

Bethany stood her ground as one warrior charged her.  He held his spear overhead in both hands as he screamed his approach.  She reached up and grabbed his spear with both hands.  The two pushed and pulled, circling as each tried to pull the weapon away from the other.  Finally, with a swift kick to his shin, Bethany won the stick and swept him aside when she smacked him upside the head with it.  But there was no time to reflect on this small victory as more warriors flooded into the room. 

The Kazoolis closed in on Lewis and Carlsbad, who were forced to interrupt their brawl to the fight the natives instead.  Carlsbad slugged one as Lewis decked another, but these warriors were instantly replaced.  Carlsbad leapt behind Lewis, who found himself fending off three natives at once.

Unperturbed by this, Carlsbad's steely gaze scoured the stone floor.  They were hopelessly outnumbered and he knew a surefire way to level the odds.  Then he found it:  his revolver had been kicked out onto the narrow stone walkway.  But some miracle it had not fallen into the lake of lava, but instead came to rest about halfway to the pedestal. 

Using Lewis Clark as a defensive buffer, Carlsbad stepped out onto the narrow bridge of rock.  A few steps and he had reached the gun.  He stretched out one leg for balance, bent over and plucked it from where it lay.  Then he stood up and saw the great ruby only a few short steps before him.

Suddenly free of Klugman's grasp, Sarah stood dumbfounded in the midst of the battle.  A native charged her with a knife held high and she screamed.  Then, there was a thundercrack and the native warrior stumbled and fell to her feet, a gaping bloody wound in his back.  She looked up and saw Wayne on the other side of the room.  He was slumped on the floor with the spear sprouting out of his chest, but his gun was pointed in her direction until he raised the barrel and blew the smoke away. 

Then Sarah realized there was a sudden movement to her side.  Turning, she saw Igor Klugman scrambling for cover behind a pillar.  She rushed after him and hid behind another one.  Screams echoed in the wide chamber.  Spears and knives flew through the air with reckless abandon.  Occasionally, Klugman would lean around his column to fire some bullets into the fray.

He ducked back behind his cover and glared at Sarah.  Then he turned, looked in the other direction.  Sarah saw his stance relax, then he turned back at her.  He gave one appraising glance at the battle, once last look back at her, then turned and scurried out an archway in the stone wall behind him.  

Lewis was fighting off natives left and right.  He knocked two more out cold when the shot rang out and sped past him.  It hit its mark and another native fell against him on his way to the floor.  Lewis looked down at the bullet hole in the body and looked up to find Wayne looking his way, smoking gun in hand.  Lewis offered a nod in appreciation.

Wayne's gun-hand fell to the stony floor, but his free hand reached up, grazed the brim of his hat.  That hand, too, fell to the floor, and his body slumped heavily against the wall.  The light in his eyes burned out and the warmth left his cheeks.  Just like that, the cowboy had run his last round-up. 

Lewis saw it, too.  But there was no time to grieve, because that was the moment that the Kazooli Witch Doctor cried out.  At his exclamation, all the warriors paused in their fight to turn and stare.  Lewis turned, too, to see what had caused such a stir.

Everard Carlsbad had reached the pedestal out in the lake of lava.  With greedy hands, he plucked the great gem from the pedestal.  Then he turned, regarding the collective with a gloatful grin, and held the Heart high aloft.

To Be Continued...