Wrath of the Volcano God Part Eight

 

 

WRATH OF THE VOLCANO GOD

A Pulp Adventure

Part Eight

The Kazooli stared, awestruck as Carlsbad crossed the narrow outcropping to the main floor, the Heart of Tiki-Taki in his hands.

Hokumba raised his hands in praise.  With both his body and voice atremble, he shouted out a decree that echoed in the wide the chamber.  Without hesitation, the Kazooli warriors knelt in reverence.  Nearby warriors seized Lewis and Bethany and forced them prostrate as well. 

"What now?" Bethany cried as the natives forced her onto the floor. 

Sarah, watching from behind a column, offered an answer.  "They seem to think the Professor is somehow favored by the Volcano God, since there was no obvious sign of displeasure when he seized the Heart!" 

Struggling in the grip of two Kazooli warriors, Lewis glared up at the Professor as he stepped off the narrow rock bridge.  "You'll never get away with this, Everard!" he snarled.  "Not if I have anything to say about it!" 

Carlsbad smiled down at him.  "Sorry, old boy, I'm afraid you haven't anything to say about...well, anything ever again!  Now that the Kazooli have recognized my authority, I think we'll all repair to their encampment where you three can be the VIPs in their sacrifice ceremony!  Yes, I think that would be a fitting end to your careers!" 

The Professor jabbed one finger toward the floor and the two warriors pushed Lewis' head down.  Lewis frowned down at the stone ground, his nose only a few short inches above a red stick.  His frown changed from one of anger to one of amazement as he realized what he was staring down at.  He took a deep breath, his muscles relaxed, and in turn the natives relaxed their grip on him. 

Lewis lashed out to grab the dynamite, but one Kazooli seized his wrist, tried to pull his hand away.  The sudden move sent the red stick spinning across the floor, it slammed against the edge of the rock bridge, twirled about a yard into the air and plopped into the glowing lava.  After what seemed like a long moment, it slipped beneath the surface. 

Meanwhile, the warriors pulled Lewis to his feet, a sharpened stone was pressed against his throat.  

Carlsbad stood over him and gloated.  "An admirable attempt, and I can't blame you for trying.  However, it seems that your luck has run out!" 

Somewhere beneath the surface of the churning lava, there was a muffled Pop.  Then, the mountain rumbled all around them.  Members of the expedition and natives looked around with wary eyes.  Then, in the middle of the lake, a stream of lava burst into the air like a waterspout.  The surface began to ripple and bubble with ferocity. 

Hokumba pointed at the sign from their deity and issued a new announcement.  Sarah translated:  "Now he says Tiki-Taki is displeased, that the thief must be killed to avert his wrath!" 

As per their new instruction, the natives abandoned Bethany, threw Lewis aside, and turned all their attention--and their weapons--upon Professor Everard Carlsbad.  They advanced with a slow and menacing gait with their stone daggers and their spears ready to distribute the Volcano God's divine punishment. 

The mountain rumbled again, and the chamber shook around them.  "Mr. Clark!  Miss Gale!  This way, hurry!" Sarah called to her companions.  Ignored by the natives, they slipped through the mob and joined her behind the pillars.  She showed them the side passage that Klugman had used moments earlier and fled down it, leaving the greedy Professor to his fate. 

"What are you doing?" Carlsbad cried as the natives closed in on him.  "Keep away!  I am the favored of Tiki-Taki!"  He held out the Heart to emphasize his claim.  

Regardless of his protestations, the Kazoolis continued to close in on him.  Carlsbad stepped out on the rock bridge, still protesting as they prodded their spears toward him.  He stumbled back, his foot missed the narrow outcropping, and with a frightful scream he fell into the boiling lava.  

So, too, did the Heart of Tiki-Taki.

As if in disapproval, the mountain rumbled again.  Hokumba ordered his warriors to evacuate, and hoped it was not too late.  Rocks and dust rained down from above as they charged through the entry hall and out through the skull in the side of the mountain.

*  *  *

Lewis, Bethany and Sarah ran through the twisting cavern.  Ahead, they saw daylight streaming in from an unseen opening around a corner.  It was at that corner that the walls sparkled and winked in the light.  As they approached the tur.n, Bethany skidded to a stop to investigate. 

"These...look like...diamonds!" she exclaimed as she scratched at one of the winking rocks embedded in the wall.  "Uncut diamonds!" 

Before the others could comment, the mountain rumbled again.  The ceiling collapsed behind them, dumping a barricade of rubble between them and the altar room.  They coughed and waved away the dust, then Lewis choked, "Forget about ém!" and waved his companions on. 

They rounded the corner and found the exit a few yards ahead.  Sprinting forward, they burst from the cave onto a sandy beach lined with thick jungle foliage on one side.  High above them, the volcano exploded with a spout of fiery wrath that began its steady march down the steep mountainside. 

"What do we do now?" Sarah whined. 

"We keep moving!  Come on!" Lewis told them.  He turned and saw Igor Klugman emerge from the jungle, and take a few steps onto the beach, his revolver still in his hand. 

"You again?" Bethany growled. 

"Igor, we've no time for this!" Lewis announced.  "Carlsbad is at the mercy of the Kazoolis, and the volcano is erupting!  We've got to get off this island!  Now!" 

The brute glared at them and shook his heavy head.  He plucked a small pouch from his belt and tossed it to Bethany's feet.  The rugged adventuress picked it up, untied the cord and looked inside.  "Diamonds!" she exclaimed, "Raw diamonds, from the cave!" 

They looked up at the large man with quizzical expressions, he responded with a scowl and one thick digit pointing back at the cave mouth. 

"I...I think he wants us to dig out some more diamonds!" Lewis said, astounded. 

"Are you crazy?!" Sarah shouted at him, "We're not going back there to die for a handful of diamonds!" 

With a growl, he fired a shot into the sand at her feet, and she jumped back with a shriek. 

But another growl emanated from the verdant jungle foliage.  A heartbeat later, a great orange blur shot through the air with a vicious roar and the one-eyed tiger pounced upon the armed man.  Klugman fell to the sand where he rolled and wrestled against the striped jungle cat, assailed by fangs and teeth. 

Above them, the lava continued to roll down the mountain, and would soon marched across the beach.  Lewis looked longingly out at the wide ocean and spied a hearty sandbar just a few hundred feet offshore. 

"Come on, time to swim!" he said as he pulled the industrialist's daughter into the oncoming surf, with Bethany right behind. 

The trio swam out to the tiny islet and watched as the lava crawled across the sand, into the jungle, and into the ocean.  

"Well, this is it," Bethany glumly conceded.  "We'll never get out of this." 

Lewis scanned the horizon for some inspiration.  Somewhere in the distance, he thought he heard a familiar sound.  "Do you hear something?" 

"Like what?" Sarah asked. 

Suddenly, a familiar yellow plane emerged from the mountains.  

"It's the Golden Goose!" Lewis exclaimed.  "But how...?" 

"Who cares!" Bethany said.  "Just wave it down so we can get out of here!" 

They jumped and waved at the plane as it passed over them once, then cheered as it circled back.  The plane landed in the water and drifted to a stop beside them.  Without hesitation, they climbed aboard. 

"Is that everybody?" Ethan called back from the pilot seat. 

"Clap!" Lewis exclaimed as he rushed to the cockpit.  Upon seeing his friend, he wrapped his arms around him.  

Bethany and Sarah were right behind him.  "How'd you do it?" Bethany asked. 

Ethan shrugged.  "I landed in the river," he said.  "I had the map, the compass, and the parts I salvaged from the derelict.  So I thought it best to get back to the Goose and start the repairs." 

"Lucky for us that you did!" Sarah said. 

"Clap!  You've no idea how glad I am to see you!" Lewis told him. 

The pilot pushed him away.  "Hey, not so fast!  You let me fall off that bridge in the first place!  I'm not talkin' to you!"  But he said it with a smile. 

"Whatever you say, Clap!" Lewis told him.  "I'm just glad you're alive!" 

Ethan pulled back on the stick, started the plane forward.  He flipped some switches, adjusted his throttle and took off into the sky. 

"What about that fella Johnson?  Or Carlsbad?  Klugman?" the pilot inquired.

"They didn't make it," Sarah announced gravely. 

"Oh," Ethan replied.  "Well...what about the big jewel?"

Lewis considered it for a minute.  "I guess the Kazoolis got it back from Everard," he said at last.  "Otherwise, it must've been in that temple when the volcano erupted.  It could be buried forever." 

"You mean we came all this way for nothing?" Ethan whined.

"Not at all!" Sarah exclaimed.  "I got several pictures!  And notes about the entire expedition!  It should make a marvelous thesis!" 

Bethany checked her pockets, pulled out a small pouch.  She untied the drawstring and dumped out a small collection of uncut gems.  "We do have Klugman's raw diamonds!"

"That should make a decent contribution to the science department at Munsey University!" Lewis mused. 

"After our expenses, I hope!" Ethan said as he guided the plane over the clouds.  "I've still got to get some proper parts for this bird!"

Lewis smiled back at him.  "At least she can fly us home, Clap!  At least she can fly us home!"

To Be Continued...

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...

Wrath of the Volcano God Part Six

 

 

WRATH OF THE VOLCANO GOD

A Pulp Adventure

Part Six

The Witch Doctor stepped between the native warrior and the woman prisoner.  He spoke in a commanding tone and swept his hands wide as though pushing the two apart.  The warrior, Nyfu, frowned as he returned angry words with a wave of his fist.

Bethany threw her hands up in a placating gesture.  "All right, all right!  Let's do this!"  Then she plucked her dagger from the ground and adopted a ready stance.

Nyfu's frown vanished in a moment of wide-eyed surprise as he drew his own primitive blade.  Hokumba, the Witch Doctor, gasped and backstepped out of the fray.  The rest of the tribe whooped and hollered at the sudden sport. 

With a primal growl, Bethany lunged forward and the battle began.  The two circled one another, a cloud of slashes and stabs, a dangerous dance as they dodged one another's blows.  They grunted and yelped, and issued sudden shouts meant to disarm the other.  There were clangs and the shrill scraping of stone on steel as they dueled and blocked with their knives.  Whenever Bethany wandered near the circle of surrounding natives, they would block any possible escape with the business-end of their spears, urging her back toward the middle of the impromptu battlefield.

*  *  *

As the tribe was distracted by this spectacle, Lewis swung out of the jungle on a vine.  He dropped effortlessly a few feet from the stake, and was only noticed by the two natives who stood nearby.  Without hesitation he dealt out a one-two punch that dropped one native, and a roundhouse which felled the second.

"Mr. Clark!" Sarah gasped, the relief plain in her voice.

He pulled a knife from his belt and started sawing at her bonds.  "Have you down in a jiffy, Miss Turnbull!" 

"What about Miss Gale?" Sarah asked.  "That warrior will kill her!"                                             

Lewis shot his gaze toward the fight in the ring of natives.  "She seems to be doing alright, so far.  But the distraction won't last long, and she'll need some help."  The vines that had held Sarah firmly to the stake fell to the grassy ground.  "Where's Johnson?"

"Locked in a cage on the side of the Kazooli camp!" she replied.  "I'll show you!"

As the duel raged on amid the cheers and jeers of the native tribe, Lewis and Sarah skirted the encampment until they came upon a bamboo cage not far from the edge of the jungle.   Wayne Johnson stood by the bars, leaning this way and that in an attempt to look past the throng of natives and watch the fight.  He jabbed at the air as he rooted for Bethany, almost as though it would cause her to mimic his actions.  He saw her lunge forward and he hooted in approval, but when he saw the native dance away, he threw his hat to the ground in disgust. 

Grumbling, he bent down to retrieve his hat, when he looked up he found Lewis and Sarah cutting open the door to the cage.  "About time you showed up, where ya been?"

"No time for that now," Lewis said as he pulled the cage door open.  "We've got to get out of here!"

"Not so fast," Wayne said as he stepped out of the cage, "They took my gear and stowed it away in that hut.  I ain't leaving without my guns."

"Hurry!" Sarah pleaded.

The trio rushed into a nearby hut, where they found a half dozen pistols and a pair of gun belts, still sporting spare bullets, as well as Sarah's camera, and a few other bits of gear that were weird and foreign to the Kazooli. 

Wayne was surprised at the find.  "What's all this?" He overcome the shock and retrieved his own gun belt and pistols.

"Perhaps scavenged from the crew of the Josephine's Joy?" Lewis suggested as he grabbed a belt and a couple of guns. 

"What difference does it make?" Sarah snapped.  "It's not enough to fight off the whole tribe, and we still have to find a way to help Miss Gale! 

Wayne found the red sticks he'd taken from the derelict's hull and smiled.  "I think we come up with something suitable."

*  *  *

Bethany swung around, her blade slammed against Nyfu's sharpened stone.  Fueled by anger, the native warrior swung again with all his strength.  Bethany lifted her own knife to block his blow, and his stone blade sent it spinning from her hand.  Wide-eyed, Bethany watched the dagger fly from her hand.  She turned her wide eyes toward her adversary and realized he was just as surprised as she was.

Nyfu recovered from the shock, raised his stone blade for the death blow.

Unseen a moment before, a red stick was tossed into the fire at the center of the encampment.  The campfire exploded, spitting fire onto the nearby huts and sending the natives in a panic.

"Whoa!" Bethany cried as she and all the natives watched in fearful wonder.  Recovering from this new shock, Nyfu turned back to his prey.  She slugged him with a haymaker, knocking him off his feet once more.  By then, natives ran screaming in all directions, and she bolted for the stake.  Her steps faltered for a moment when she saw that Sarah was no longer tied there.  But amid the din of the surrounding panic she heard  her own name.

A quick look around and she found Lewis Clark waving her forward.  With him were Sarah Turnbull and Wayne Johnson.  She ran up to them.

"I guess the rescue was a success!" she exclaimed.

"It ain't over yet!" Wayne replied.  "We gotta get out of here!"

"The temple's this way!" Lewis shouted as he led the way.

Meanwhile, panic reigned in the native camp.  Frightened tribesmen ran in all directions, frightened by the omen given to them by the Volcano God.  Only Hokumba kept his head.  He stood in the center of the camp shouting orders to his followers.  After some minutes, he organized a bucket brigade to douse the fires consuming the huts. 

With that first order of business achieved, he organized the remainder of the tribe into a posse, and led them in the pursuit of interlopers who dared invade their island.

*   *  *

Lewis led his team on their charge through the jungle.  They emerged from the trees into a short field, before them stood a tall spire of rock, a bulbous outcropping of stone bore a series of caves that gave it a skull-like visage and crudely carved steps led up to the leering maw. 

The group paused and gaped at the weird monument as they caught their breath.  Then the rustling of fronds in the jungle behind them told them they were still being pursued. 

"Come on!" Lewis urged them, and waved for them to follow him up the stone stairs. 

The Kazoolis emerged from the jungle and looked up at the skull-face with revered terror in their eyes.  They saw the interlopers top the stone steps and vanish into the skull's dark mouth.

Hokumba screeched to a halt, spread his arms wide to stop the advance of his warriors.  He pointed at the temple entrance, and decreed the blasphemous trespassers were now at the dubious mercy of Tiki-Taki.  Behind him, the mob of warriors gasped at this terrible fate.

But one warrior pushed his way through the throng.  Nyfu stepped before the mob and argued with the Witch Doctor, he waved his stone knife toward the temple, pleading to continue the chase.  But the Witch Doctor was adamant, with a dour face he shook his heavy head, forbidding the young warrior's desires.

Disgusted with this decision, Nyfu spat some choice words back at the Witch Doctor, then turned and continued alone.  Ignoring the Witch Doctor's commands for him to return, he bounded up the steps to the Temple of the Volcano God.

*  *  *

Lewis led his team toward a dull red glow at the end of a long dark hall.  It was a wide room, riddled with pillars, with primitive totems lining the walls.  The floor ended in a precipice that stood only a foot above a pool of lava--the source of the eerie red glow--which covered the far end of the room.  A narrow rock bridge stood out like the plank of a pirate ship, and ended on a small island where a hand-carved pedestal proudly displayed the giant ruby that was the Heart of Tiki-Taki.

Mesmerized by the beauty of the historical find, our explorers gaped in awe.  They watched, dumbstruck, as the jewel twinkled and winked in the glow of the liquid rock.  With thoughtless, mechanical precision, Sarah grabbed the camera that hung from her neck and snapped a picture.

Before she could be proud of her automatic response, she was seized from behind.  With a scream, she suddenly found herself once again in the meaty embrace of Igor Klugman.  One thick arm wrapped around the lithe girl, his other pointed his pistol at Bethany and Wayne, as if daring them to make a move.

Lewis turned at the sound of her scream, and found himself facing the business end of Carlsbad's revolver.  "Well, well, well..." cooed the disgraced professor, "Fancy meeting you here..." 

To Be Continued...

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...

Wrath of the Volcano God Part Four

 

 

WRATH OF THE VOLCANO GOD

A Pulp Adventure

Part Four

The Kazooli warriors burst from the underbrush.  They whooped and hollered as they closed in on the outsiders, brandishing spears.  Their eyes burned with a primitive hatred as they corralled the members of the expedition into a loose huddle surrounded by the business-end of sharpened stone spearheads.

With cries of surprise, our heroes banded together, instinctively seeking the safety of numbers.  They stood back-to-back, keeping fearful watch on the surrounding warriors.

"What do we do now?" Sarah asked in a trembling voice.

"We should fight our way out of this!" Bethany announced, her hand reaching for her knife.

"You trying to get us all killed?" the pilot barked.

"Purdy sure I ain't got enough bullets to get us out of this," Wayne lamented.

Lewis raised his hands to show the natives he held no weapon.  He offered a smile and announced, "We come in peace!"

A murmur rolled through the throng of warriors.  Some prodded at the prisoners with their spears.

"I don't think that did much for us," Wayne said.

"I've got a nasty feeling that the people from the boat gave them a bad first impression of outsiders," Lewis said. 

The leader of the band of warriors, a brave and brawny individual named Nyfu, crept forward.  With knees bent he advanced one wary step, then another tilting his head and torso one way, then another in a manner reminiscent o a wild bird.  He reached out with one tentative finger and prodded Bethany's sleeve.  She grumbled and recoiled at his touch, but could not retreat.

As if emboldened by her response, Nyfu straightened, poked her again. 

"Hey, knock it off, pal!" she barked at him.

Nyfu commented to his warriors and they erupted with a brief burst of laughter.  With a hearty guffaw, he slapped her on the shoulder, threw her off balance.

"I said cut it out!" she growled as she leaned in and pushed him back.

"No, don't!" Ethan yelled, but it was too late.

The laughter of the natives instantly died.  Nyfu turned to her with a ugly grimace, made some short declaration in his native tongue, which he punctuated by slapping the upstart girl across the face.  Blood trickled from the corner of her lip as she turned back to regard him with a venomous gaze.

"Bethany," Lewis said in the calmest voice he could muster, "just calm..."

A sneer curled her lip as she leaned in and struck his ugly mug with a left hook.  Surprised by the strike, he was spun about, but caught himself from falling.  Nonetheless, he had been struck, and by a female.  His fellow warriors burst out in laughter once again, this time at his expense.

Nyfu drew himself to his full height and addressed his fellows with angry words.  In his rhetoric, he turned and glared at Bethany with a burning hatred in his eyes.  His followers jostled their spears as though in preparation, then Nyfu concluded his speech by thrusting forward an accusing digit toward the members of the expedition.

This sudden movement startled young Sarah Turnbull.  She jumped, and in doing so, her finger flipped the switch on her camera.  Her bulb flashed, and inspired a sudden wave of panic in the surrounding warriors.

They jumped back with wide eyes, and called out with oaths, curses, and other cries of alarm.  Their muscles tensed and their spears jostled again, this time trembling with anxious energy.

"This could be our chance!" Lewis shouted.  Suddenly his pistol was drawn and thunder-cracks filled the clearing as three bullets were shot into the sky. 

The natives' panic increased.  Many of them bolted for the safe shadows of the jungle while others danced in place unsure whether to run, attack, or cower upon the ground.

"Run!" Lewis commanded as he herded his group out of the glade. 

With no further prompting, the small group burst through the evaporating throng of natives and charged into the jungle.  They stomped their way through the underbrush, dodging trees and vines, forging their own path where the jungle floor offered the least resistance.  The alarmed cries of the natives fell further behind them, but then transformed into yells of anger, and grew louder again in pursuit.

They ran for their lives, for even the jungle itself was against them.  Sarah was running at full speed, following her fellows, when she ran afoul of a bulbous tree root.  She collapsed to the verdant floor and her camera rolled away from her hands.

Suddenly the cowboy was beside her, pulling her to her feet.  "Can't stop now, missy!" he said as he urged her forward to follow the others.

"My camera!" she cried a she paused to pluck it from the grassy ground.

Then a horrendous crack sounded off to one side.  A heartbeat later, a heavy tree trunk came crashing down through the foliage to block their path.

"Shi-nola!" Wayne swore.  Sarah gasped as she straightened up, the Kodak back in her hands.  They were flabbergasted only for a moment, but it was a moment too long.  Before they knew it, they were surrounded once again by Kazoolis, their spears at the ready.

Their capture was obvious and inarguable.  There was nothing left to do but accept it and raise their hands.  After a moment, the Kazoolis corralled them through the jungle by prodding them with spears.  There was no way of knowing where they were being taken.

*  *  *

Lewis Clark ran through the jungle, realized he no longer heard the natives.  He paused by a tall tree, pulled off his fedora, dragged one forearm across his forehead.  Bethany Gale and Ethan Clapsaddle stopped beside him and gasped for breath.

Lewis frowned at the pair, then back at the jungle.  "What happened to Sarah, and Wayne?"

"I don't know," Bethany replied.

"They were right..." the pilot panted, "...behind us!"

A Kazooli spear hit a tree and trembled with the impact.  The three of them looked sharply up at the spear, then at the jungle behind them.

"We'll have to double-back for them later!  Move!" Lewis said as he started them back on their run.

They continued on through another hundred yard of thick jungle undergrowth before emerging into another clearing.  This one was on the edge of a wide ravine, spanned by an ancient bridge of wood and vines.  Here, they screeched to a stop as two figures turned and raised their pistols.

"Clark!" Carlsbad exclaimed as he steadied his revolver.  "I thought you died on the boat!  And Miss Gale, you're looking much better than you did last time we met!"

"Everard, there's bigger problems on this island than the ones between you and us!" Lewis told him.  As if to emphasize his point, a native spear embedded itself in the ground at a low angle. 

All eyes turned toward the jungle to search for oncoming natives.  Carlsbad seized the moment, grabbed Bethany's arm and pulled her in front of him.  The muzzle of his revolver jabbed into her ribs.  "My dear, I think you'll provide suitable cover for me as we cross the bridge," he cooed into her ear as he drew her back toward the ancient construction.  "Igor!  Be sure to wait until we're well across.  I doubt this sorry structure can handle much weight." 

His hulking brute nodded in reply and Carlsbad dragged Bethany beyond the lip of the ravine.  They cross the creaking planks despite the groans of the vines that stretched beneath their weight.  A few long but nerve-wracking minutes later, Carlsbad set foot on the far lip of the ravine and called for his servant to follow. 

Kazooli spears shot out of the jungle.  Most of these also jabbed into the rough turf, but a few overshot the edge, and fell to the verdant floor far below the bridge.  In a rush of panic, Ethan charged for the rickety bridge only to slapped to the ground by Igor's half-hearted backhand.  Igor stepped upon the first planks of the bridge, steadied himself by clutching the handrails of twisted vines.  One board snapped and fell beneath his heavy girth, but he continued on, apparently unperturbed. 

He was nearly halfway across when the natives emerged from the jungle.  With ululating war cries they charged toward the two men that still stood before the bridge.  There was only one escape route and that was the bridge itself. 

Ethan scurried for it, then ducked as Igor raised his pistol and fired.  The bullet screamed past him and struck one of the onrushing natives.  Lewis set his jaw, frowned at the pilot and barked, "Come on!" then led his friend onto the swaying bridge. 

Igor watched them with a grimace.  He holstered the pistol and replaced it with a long machete.  He raised the blade high overhead, then glanced at Lewis and Ethan, as though he expected them to stop. 

Lewis continued on.   A board creaked as he passed over it, but there was too much yelling to notice.  It snapped when Ethan tried to step on it.  The pilot pulled himself up and though shaken, continued on with no other choice. 

Igor brought his machete down upon the handrail and the vine snapped.  The handrail fell away, forcing the other ropes that composed the bridge to handle the tension and the weight without its help.  The redistribution of weight caused new stress and added wear that the aged bridge could not withstand.  A vine snapped between Lewis and Ethan, than another snap sounded between Lewis and Igor.  The bridge snapped in two, Lewis found himself hugging the floorboards for dear life as the bridge fell and slammed into the far wall of the ravine.  Above him, Igor likewise clung the ruined bridge. 

Ethan Clapsaddle was not so lucky.  The bridge tore itself apart beneath his feet and suddenly he was unsupported in midair.  He fell, screaming, into the depth of the ravine, and was swallowed up by the leafy canopy of palm trees far below.  

Lewis called out for his friend, stared with horror at the green blanket below him, but saw no sign of him.  Then a rock slammed against the ravine wall, bringing him back to the moment at hand.  The Kazoolis stood at the far lip chucking rocks and spears in an attempt to strike the two men clinging to the fallen bridge. 

Lewis reached over his head, pulled himself up the footboards as though they were the rungs of a ladder.  Looking up, he saw that Igor was doing the same.  Igor reached the top after a few minutes, then drew his machete once more. 

Two quick chops and the bridge slipped down the cliff face.  

"Good work, Igor!" Carlsbad praised him.  He shook Bethany's arm in a right grip.  "I'm tempted to send you after him, Miss Gale.  However, you might prove a useful distraction if those natives should find us again.  Come along!"  With that, he pulled her into the jungle, and Igor followed. 

Meanwhile, Lewis clung to the ravine wall like a fly.  He noticed that he was only a few short yards away from a convenient cave and he inched his way across the cliff wall despite a steady barrage of rocks and spears that rained down around him.  Finally, he stretched one foot around an outcropping and felt the cave floor.  He climbed into the cave, and peered into the valley below. 

There was still no sign of Ethan Clapsaddle.  But as he stared through the foliage, Lewis was sure he spied a running river.  He wondered if Clap could've survived if he landed in the river.  Then he asked himself, "Was there a splash?" 

In the excitement of the moment, there was no way to be sure.  A rock bounced off his shoulder and he screamed with pain.  "Sorry Clap," he said to the valley at the bottom of the ravine, then turned and retreated into the cave. 

*  *  * 

Bethany struggled in Carlsbad's grip as they trudged through the jungle. 

With a groan, Carlsbad shoved her into Igor's beefy arms.  "You may as well accept it, you're coming with us!" 

"You don't even know where you're going!" Bethany taunted as she tried to kick him. 

Carlsbad glared at her through narrowed eyes.  He pulled the map from one pocket and consulted it.  He looked around, but this part of the jungle was indistinguishable from other parts they had already traveled through.  But not far away was the roar of a waterfall, which coincided with one marked on the map. 

"To the contrary, my dear," Carlsbad purred smugly, "I do believe I know exactly where..." 

Before he could finish, the angry beast burst from the undergrowth:  five-hundred pounds of raw muscle and sharp teeth wrapped up in a coat of orange, black, and white...

To Be Continued...

Wrath of the Volcano God Part Three

 

 

WRATH OF THE VOLCANO GOD

A Pulp Adventure

Part Three

"Then you two had better get off this boat, and fast!" Lewis told them as he struggled to break free of the ropes.

The pilot snorted.  "Not without you, buddy-boy!  Grab him!"  Ethan grabbed the ropes encircling Lewis' shoulders as Wayne grabbed the prone man's legs.  They ran for the gangplank.  Halfway down it, the dynamite exploded.  The main deck shattered, shot into the air like a volcanic explosion.  The gangplank lifted up under their feet and launched them onto the sandy beach.

Debris from the ship rained down into the water and along the beach.  Jigsaw pieces of deck or walls.  A cabin door.  A twisted length of the ship's railing.  Boxes from the hold, a lantern, a prybar and other tools.  The ship itself sunk lower in the water, no doubt the hold blew itself wide open somewhere below the water line.  The ship finally settled on the ocean floor at an angle, the prow of the ship sat higher than the stern.  A bit the foredeck, the main cabin, and dirty smokestack were all that jutted up from the water.  Just like that, the Josephine's Joy was no more.

Sarah stood from where she lay Bethany, sitting up against a rock.  She looked over the aftermath with despondent eyes, for she saw no sign of their three companions.

The gangplank landed with one end on a boulder that jutted up from the sand near the water's edge, the other dropped into the loose white sand.  One side jerked, then rose like a door on a hinge.  It slid off the boulder, which now held the gangplank propped up on one edge.  The three men emerged from beneath it.

"Thank Heavens you're alive!" she exclaimed as she rushed to them.  "Are you all right?"

Lewis took a quick stock of the situation.  "Yes, I think so.  How about you, Wayne?"

Wayne's ashen face told them that he was shaken.  Nevertheless, he picked himself up and slapped his Stetson onto his head as he said, "Had worse falls gettin' bucked offa broncos!"

"Clap?  You all right?" Lewis asked.

Ethan patted down his jacket, finally pulled out a pack of cigarettes.  "I'm still working on that 'alive' part.  I mean, my whole life flashed before my eyes!" He put a smoke in his mouth, lit it, took a long drag.  "You never paid me back for the Red Robin, by the way."

Lewis laughed.

Then the water beyond the whore began to churn.  It swirled and roiled.  In a few short moments it came to a bubble as though it had come to a rolling boil.  Large objects moved beneath the bubbling water, as though some undercurrent pushed them up toward the beach.  The first one emerged from the sea, it seemed to the shallow dome of a reddish-gray rock.  More clustered up to the edge of the beach, remaining submerged in the oncoming surf, at least for the moment.

Next to one of these rocks, a crab's claw reached up and out of the broiling surf.  It was of a monstrous proportion, easily two feet in length.  The pincers clacked twice, it may have been nothing more than a morning stretch, but it seemed like a signal as the rocks chose that moment to climb out of the water.

They were giant crabs, some as large as four feet across their barnacled shells.  Each one armed with a massive pair of claws that could crack a person's head wide open. 

Sarah screamed, ran back to pull Bethany to her feet.  Shouting exclamations of their own, Ethan and Wayne pulled Lewis to his feet.  Then they each grabbed the coil of rope and pulled it over his head.   Wayne let go of the rope, but some habit made Ethan pull the coiled rope over one arm and onto his shoulder without even realizing it.

The white sands were swarming with the monstrous crabs, one came upon a few boards from the ship's deck that were sticking up out of the sand.  With a single clack of its claw, it snapped the boards in twain.

"Run!" Lewis ordered, and the three men bolted inland.

Bethany, still weakened from the poison, was pulled to her feet by the younger woman.  Sarah wrapped one arm around Bethany's waist, pulled one of Bethany's arms over her shoulders and urged across the sandy beach.

Wayne paused, plucked a twisted piece of railing from the ground and chucked it at the oncoming horde.  It bounced off one crab's shell, rolled off another, but did nothing to slow their advance.  Lewis grabbed what appeared to be a stairway plank and threw it into the throng with similar result. 

The crabs had advanced upon their flank, cut off their path to the ravine-path they had followed to the beach.  They turned, and continued toward the cliff wall.  The humans ran at full speed, and gained a lengthy lead as the crabs scuttled forward at a slow but menacing gait.  As the distance lessened between them and the cliff face, they saw it was riddled with caves.  The lowest one was perhaps fifteen feet above the sand, and out-of-reach from their armored pursuers.

They were nearly out of the field of fallen debris when Lewis pulled a curved metal rod from the sand.  He cocked his arm to catapult it when he suddenly realized that it was a large three-pronged hook. 

The crabs marched on, clicking their pincers in their mad chase.  Sarah cried out as Bethany stumbled and nearly pulled them both to the ground.

"Clap!"  The pilot turned to him and Lewis tossed him the hook.  "Tie this to the rope so we can get up to one of those caves!"  Ethan caught it, nodded.  Lewis ran over and picked up Bethany fro where she fell.  He instructed Sarah to continue of, then followed carrying the crumpled woman in his arms once again.

Moments later they made it to the rocky wall and stood below one of the lower caves.  Lewis propped Bethany against the cliff as Ethan hastily tied the grappling hook to one end of the rope.  Wayne pulled out his six-guns and fired at the oncoming horde as Ethan whirled the hook up toward the cave above.

Wayne's bullets bounced off their heavy shells or cause a small burst of sand as buried itself in the beach at their feet.  Either way, that crab would pause, sometimes take a step back, and cause a minor logjam in their advance. It was only a momentary reprieve, then they would continue with their ominous charge.

The hook crashed into the sand.  Undaunted, or just desperate, Ethan tried again.  The hook clanged against the rock face and hurtled down a second time. 

"Dagnabbit!" Wayne cried, "You can't throw a rope to save your life!"  He slammed his revolvers into their holsters and took the rope away from the pilot.  He swung the hook in a circle, then launched it skyward.  It caught onto the cave mouth and stayed put.

Wayne pulled his guns out and resumed firing, which seemed to slow the onrushing crustacean mob, if only a little.  Lewis slipped his pack from his shoulders and handed it to Ethan.

"Take this, and get up there so you can help Miss Turnbull," Lewis instructed.

"What about her?" Ethan asked, pointing at Bethany Gale.

"I'll get her," Lewis said as he leaned over and pulled a large knife from Bethany's belt.  "Now get up there!"

Without argument, Ethan pulled the spare pack onto his shoulder where the rope had been moments before.  He grabbed the rope in both fists and walked up the rock wall to the cave. 

Lewis cut a few feet of rope from the bottom, then waved Sarah toward the rope.  "You're next!"

"But how..." the girl began.

Wayne fired off another round.  "No time to argue, just get!"

Though plagued by dissatisfaction and worry, Sarah climbed up the rope.  As she neared the cave, Ethan leaned out, grabbed her, helped her climb in.

As Sarah climbed, Lewis used his newly cut length of rope to tie Bethany's wrists together.  He pulled the girl to her feet, turned his back to her, then pulled her tied hands over his head.  Lewis took the rope in his hands and said, "Don't wait too long!"

"I weren't plannin' to," Wayne told him.

With a nod, Lewis hoisted himself up to the cave.  Below him, the crabs closed in on Wayne Johnson.  He leveled his pistol at one oncoming beast and pulled the trigger.  He was rewarded with a disappointing click and remembered the shots he had used on the ship.  He holstered that revolver, grabbed hold of the rope as one crab charged up to him.  He turned his pistol at it, squeezed the trigger.

The revolver barked a thunderclap and shattered the heavy shell between the crab's two eyestalks.  The monster trembled, then it's spidery legs collapsed beneath the dead weight of the body.

Wayne shoved the gun into it's holster, grabbed the rope and was instantly pulled off the white sand of the beach.  His friends pulled him into the cliffside cave and looked down at the monster-sized crabs clacking their claws in anger below.

They rested for a while near the cave mouth, nibbled at their provisions, sipped from their canteens, reloaded their guns, wiped their brows and caught their breath.  The stoic crabs stood stubborn guard below them, clicking and clacking their pincers with a promise of savage pain.

Ethan pulled the stub from his mouth and flicked it at the mob below.  "Looks like they ain't going anywhere anytime soon."

"That's all right.  We all got up here in one piece and we can follow this cavern," Lewis announced.  "If we're lucky, we'll find another way out."

Sarah stared down at the crustacean swarm.  "Do...do you think they got Dr. Carlsbad and his man?" The worry in her voice was genuine.

"I hope so," Bethany spat.  "Serve him right."

"What a horrible thing to say about another human being!" Sarah exclaimed, aghast.

Lewis grabbed the young woman in a firm embrace.  "If I know Everard, he got away from the crabs all right.  And that means he'll still be after the Heart of Tiki-Taki.  We've got to get to the Temple first if we're going to stop him."  He shot a furtive glance as the giant crabs below.  "You should take a couple of pictures of them," he told the girl.  "For posterity's sake.  That's what your father sent us to do, isn't it?"

"Yes it is," she agreed, and readied her camera.

Lewis turned to the rest of his crew.  "Dig out your flashlights, we're heading out!"

Sarah estimated the daylight, determined there was no need for the flash.  She aimed her Kodak, and took the picture.

*  *  *

The cavern was long and twisted.  It climbed, it dipped, it doubled back.  They found off-shoots that turned out to be dead-ends, and others that branched off in different directions.  Lewis led the expedition through the dark and winding caverns, and even Bethany Gale followed under her own power, although she steadied herself with one hand on the rocky wall.  After an hour of wandering through the labyrinthine tunnels, Lewis turned a corner, entering a large cave.  His light flittered across the uneven floor, across the far wall and over the crude images of a primitive mural.

"Hello!" he let loose a jovial cry, "And what's this?"

They stepped into the wider cavern and Sarah gasped with delight.  She rushed to the mural, giddy with glee.  "Some sort of pictographs!"  She smiled as she looked them over, wiped away dust and cobwebs.  "Substantial proof that a primitive civilization once lived here on Tiaganu Island!"

"I thought we already knew that?" Ethan asked as he looked over the weird symbols.

"It was only supposition then!" Sarah exclaimed as she pulled out the camera and the flash.  "Even second-hand stories and journal entries are still just stories, not actual proof!  That's what..."

"What Professor Sunnybrook always said!" Lewis recollected happy memories.  Sarah aimed the camera, held up her flash and released a burst of light with the click of a button.

"Well that's really swell," Bethany grumbled, "But I thought we were here to prove there was a Cult of the Volcano God, maybe even a Temple to Tiki-Taki?  Does this stone-age graffiti give you any clues about that?"

Lewis rubbed his chin and studied the mural as Sarah took more photographs.  Finally, he was forced to shrug in defeat.  "I don't know.  I can't read this stuff."

"What do you mean you can't read it?" Bethany exploded.  "What are we supposed to do now?"

The pilot stepped between them, waving for cooler heads.  "Hey!  This is not a problem!  How hard could it be to decipher?  Here, I'll read it!"

"You?" Bethany snorted in disbelief.

"Sure, why not?  It's just a petrified comic book!  Let's see now..."  He frowned at the symbols on the wall and stroked his chin.  After a moment he snapped his fingers and cried, "Aha!  I got it!  It's easy!"  He stepped up to the wall and pointed at various vignettes as he narrated:  "See...these stick figure guys, they lived in some kind of a spider web until one day they came upon a river of catsup.  They were so pleased by this that while this sheep dog was sleeping on its back, they held a party where this guy apparently did jumping jacks.  They knew the party was done when there was nothing left of the bonfire but a pile of burned sticks, the fire was dead--as signified by the skull--but the sticks were still smoking, see?  So then, they sat down on some giant, rotten bananas and looked at the other islands to see where to hold the next party!  See?  Piece of cake!"

Lewis hid his growing grin behind one hand while Bethany and Wayne stared with faces contorted by confusion.

"That has got to be the stupidest thing I've ever heard in my life!" Bethany shouted.

"Hey, at least I tried!" Ethan barked back.

Sarah snapped another photograph and said, "And I really don't think you were too far off."

"How so?" Wayne asked.

Her eyes flitted across the mural bemusedly.  "Well, I think I can translate it."

"You can?" her fellows chorused, almost in unison.

"Well, I haven't been attending Munsey University for nothing!" she told them.  "Professor Sunnybrook and Dr. Drummond are very knowledgeable about primitive cultures, and even Dr. Carlsbad taught an excellent course...before he was disbarred, of course..."

"What does it say?" Bethany interrupted.

"Oh!  Well..."  Sarah pointed to each set of cave drawings as she explained them, just as the pilot had done.  "It appears that the Kazoolis used to live here, in fact they probably originated here on Tiaganu.  They lived in these caves--not a spiderweb--until they were evicted by some magma that bubbled up from the volcano.  Naturally, they sought to appease Tiki-Taki, the Volcano God.  So they made sacrifices of what appear to be goats and also of people.  They did this before the home or temple of Tiki-Taki; a skull-shaped cave in the smoking volcano.  It does not say whether or not this stopped the volcano from rumbling.  But the Kazooli natives took their canoes to live on other islands, but return annually to offer sacrifices to Tiki-Taki, probably in the hopes of placating him so he won't demolish the whole island chain.  At least..."  She hung her head and shuffled her feet.  "...that's my interpretation."

"Sounds like a good summary to me!" Lewis exclaimed.

Wayne found another cave painting a little further down the cave wall.  "What about this one?"

Bethany was surprised that she recognized it at once.  "That's a map of the island!"

Lewis pulled out the one Bethany had handed him on the plane.  He compared the two and declared, "She's right!"

"But look at this!" she pointed at different features on the cave painting.  "Giant carvings of heads...totems...a ravine...distinctive rock formations...this one's chock full of landmarks!"

"Maybe we should get us a copy like that," Wayne suggested.

"I'll take a photograph!" Sarah volunteered.  She stepped forward and clicked the shutter, the flash released a blinding burst of light.

"That'll be great once we get back to civilization and you can develop the film," Bethany told her.  "But it doesn't do us any good right here, right now."

 "Not a problem," Lewis said as he shrugged off his pack.  He dug through his supplies and came up with a small journal.  He flipped through the pages and a folded document fell out.  He snatched it from the floor, slipped it between two pages deep in the book.  Then he found a blank page and pulled out a pencil.  He consulted the cave painting as he scribbled a copy into his book.  "Ok, got it.  We'd better get moving."

They resumed their venture through the winding caves and before long, were rewarded with daylight.  They emerged from the side of a rocky plateau and found luscious foliage all around them.  The wind blew here, and carried with it the songs of birds and the call of monkeys.  Lewis pulled a compass from his pocket, consulted it, then pointed and said, "It's this way." 

After marching for the better part of an hour, they came upon a glade centered around a stone pillar crudely carved into an ugly, leering visage.  Three smaller stones surrounded it in a triangular formation, each baring mysterious carvings. 

Our heroes gawked at the stone for a moment.  They approached for a closer look at the head and the perimeter markers.  Suddenly, Bethany's sharp eyes turned toward the surrounding jungle, but only Lewis seemed to notice.  Sarah reached for her Kodak, and Lewis withdrew his journal.  He pulled on the folded document so it stuck out from the pages, handed the book to the pilot. 

"Get me rubbings of these marker stones, would ya, Clap?"

"Yeah, sure, Lew," Ethan replied, and took the book.

Lewis stepped beside Bethany as the others investigated the landmark.  "What is it?"

She shook her head in slow uncertainty.  "I got the feeling we're being watched."

Lewis listened, but no birdsong nor monkey chatter.  There was a faint breeze, but not so strong as the sound of rustling leaves just beyond the jungle's edge.  A twig snapped somewhere behind him.  A bush shook, but only for a moment.

It could have been his imagination, he hoped it was.  Another heartbeat passed, and then they knew for sure...

To Be Continued...