It took perhaps another half hour according to Doc’s internal chronometer to reach the peak. As they approached, the zombie pilots angled the nose of the Zeppelin upwards, trading off speed for altitude. To Doc’s eyes the gray slopes of the mountain matched the color of Schmidt’s skin, though they flashed beneath him too quickly for a good look. Moments later everything went white as they plunged into the clouds.
Doc held his breath, as they drove through the whiteness. For all its size the ZL-38 was a fragile beast, and a collision with the mountain would crumple its frames like a sheet of paper in the hands of a child. No one else reacted to the loss of vision, not Schmidt, not the zombies, not even Doc’s two gorilla guards who just stood there with their brown eyes fixed on him.
He had barely enough time to let his breath out when they shot through the clouds and the pilots through the engines into reverse. ZL-38 shuddered under the impact of almost eight thousand horsepower as the propellers strove to bring her mass under control.
One of the zombies reached forward, flipped up a panel and depressed a lever beneath it. Seconds later, a roar flooded the ship as great tongues of flame leaped forward past the windows.
“Braking rockets,” Schmidt said softly, ending his silence.
The shuddering turned to shaking as the rocket fire rose, blasting a line across the open sky. The sound rose, surrounding Doc like an invisible wall, and then cut off just as quickly as it had begun. The silence struck like a blow, but Doc ignored it.
Now silent, ZL-38 began to descend, and Doc took the opportunity to look around. They were inside the crater, sinking swiftly in the clear air. Through the windows he caught his first glimpses of a city made from green stone. Strangely shaped towers rose from egg-shaped domes between wide avenues of white.It was an image that took Doc’s mind back millions of years, to a culture the minds that raised him had called “Earth’s First Children.” This was a city that belonged in the Cretaceous, not the present. While Doc drank in the sight of something he had never expected to see, an oval field rose to meet them. Moments later the Zeppelin slid in for docking at a stone tower.
“Take him away.” Schmidt said without looking at Doc.
Thick arms reached out and grabbed his shoulders, pulling Doc away from the control cabin.
#
The two gorillas dragged Vic roughly down the companionway with her heels bouncing on the grating. Once outside the compartment she took a deep breath, glad to be away from so many rotting corpses. The tropics really were a bad place for the undead, no matter how often Doc’s enemies tried to use them. At least gorillas were alive, though the pair that was dragging her backward so that all she could see was the ceiling behind her didn’t seem to be doing much with that fact.
“Gray, I’d paint the ceiling gray,” she muttered, unable to keep her mouth shut any longer.
Neither gorilla responded; they just opened the nearest hatch and shoved her through. Vic found herself in a small cabin, barely large enough for a single bunk and folding desk. Clearly meant for a junior officer, it was buried in the bowels of the ship, lit only by a single caged lightbulb.
Vic wrinkled her nose before carefully pulling the top cover off the bunk. It smelled and looked clean, so she flipped the cover back and sat down to wait. To all appearances, the cabin looked to have been abandoned for at least a few days. It all fit, Schmidt and his mysterious master were the ones running things. Any Nazis were long gone and the uniforms were just for appearances. Sadly, that thought didn’t make Vic feel any better.
With nothing else to do, Vic closed her eyes and tried to relax. It was one thing she had learned from both Doc and her grandmother. When you can’t do anything, save your energy. She wasn’t going to sleep on the bunk, but she could make the most of her opportunity.
It was about an hour later that the door opened and Schmidt stepped in. Vic opened her eyes slowly and looked him over. He didn’t look any better than he had in New York, and he smelled worse.
“Yes?”
A slow smile spread across his face. “I just thought I would come and tell you what you have in store for you once we arrive at the city. Since you missed your chance to be the one bringing the Moon Key to the Eldest Flame, you will serve me for all eternity. Enjoy your centuries of despair.”
He traced the line of her cheek with his swagger stick. “You should have accepted the brand you were offered.”
Vic opened her right hand and looked at her palm. While still present, her brand had faded to a simple white outline. She clenched her fist and met Schmidt’s gaze. “No, I think I’ll settle for the one I have.”
“You will regret your insolence.” Schmidt began tapping his right foot as he glared at Vic.
She laughed. “You’re just jealous that I have a better looking brand than you do. Especially since I didn’t have to die or give up my free will.
“Run along now.” She waved her hand dismissively. He had had more than enough opportunity to kill her if he really wanted her dead and she was still alive. The flight was boring enough, the least she could do was get under his rotting skin.
As if determined to prove her right, Schmidt spluttered but didn’t say anything. He gave her one more furious look, punched the wall, and then left. Vic took a deep breath, sighed, and then let it all out. It was going to be a long flight.
#
Doc was surprised to see everyone waiting for him just inside the hatch. The first one he saw was was Vic, standing straight with two armed gorillas behind her. She was a prisoner, but her body language was that of an empress. Gilly stood behind her, his head bowed as if to hide the bandage on his throat. Like Vic, he was not bound, although he looked much less comfortable than she did.
Then one of the guards shoved Gus forward and Gilly’s eyes went wide. Even Vic appeared to lose her composure for a moment. The normally dapper gorilla looked like hell. He was naked and chained, his fur matted. He moved slowly, catching himself on one knuckle and looking around warily. Doc would have never mistaken him for the elegant sophisticate he had come to know so well over the years. Instead he looked more like a wild gorilla freshly captured by Paul du Chaillu.
Before anyone could say anything, the hatch opened and they were shoved roughly forward and down a boarding ramp to the ground. The first thing Doc noticed was the smell, there was something different about the air. As he reached the end of the ramp and stepped onto the ground he realized it was moss, rather than grass. None of the plants looked like anything he had seen in Africa before, but there was something nagging about their appearance, but another blow drove it from his mind.
“Keep moving,” a gorilla behind him muttered in German-accented English. Doc shook his head and straightened up, glad they had not bound him. Looking around, he saw the others had joined him, even Gus, who still looked much the worse for wear. A guard tapped him on the back with a rifle butt and he started moving across the moss.
A few minutes later they had reached the edge of the mossy field, and the guards motioned them to a halt. There was no direct sunlight in the crater, but it was still hot enough that Doc’s shirt stuck to his back. The others didn’t look any more comfortable.
As the guards pushed them into a circle, Doc leaned over towards Gus. “What can you tell me?” he whispered in Basque.
A rifle butt slammed into his face, hard enough to knock him away but not quite hard enough for a concussion. “Get away from him or I’ll give you more than a love tap!”
One of the guards glowered and reversed his Mauser so that the bayonet was pointing between them. The guard waggled the weapon slowly, his beady eyes narrowed. “Move apart.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Doc caught a glimpse of the other guards unlimbering their rifles, and so he slowly slid across the moss and away from Gus.
The others just sat there, Gilly with his head down, Vic with hers up.
It wasn’t long before he saw something approaching. At first it was a plume of dust, but after a fe
w minutes he could pick out details. The first glance didn’t make sense, so he rubbed his eyes and took another look to be sure. It was a wooden wagon, four-wheeled and open, with a wooden X rising from the back of the bed, and a gorilla up front driving it. What really caught his attention was the beast drawing it. It wasn’t a horse or an ox, or even an elephant, but some kind of dinosaur. It was a long-necked beast with a light dusting of yellow feathers running on two legs.
As it got closer he saw that the animal’s forelimbs were cuffed to the shafts of the wagon, and the body of the wagon was actually made up of a series of cages or kennels. Once the wagon pulled to a stop, the guards shoved them to their feet, and made them stand in a line beside the cart. Then one at a time, a guard opened the doors in the side of the wagon and forced each of the humans into a separate kennel, first Gilly, then Vic, and finally Doc.
Doc found himself sitting on a wooden floor with a slight dusting of straw. The rest was an open box of iron bars. Doc’s examination was interrupted by the rattle of chains behind him, and he turned to see Gus being chained spread-eagle to the X-shaped frame on the back of the wagon. He leaned forward to get a closer look, but one of the guards jabbed his bayonet at him and Doc slithered back out of reach.
The guard grunted and went back to watching his compatriots finish fastening Gus to the the frame. Done, they started to move away, but not before one slammed his Mauser butt into Gus’s stomach.
Doc winced in sympathetic pain, and did not see the Mauser butt that crashed into his own head, sending him spiraling into darkness.
#
“Ouch, that must have hurt,” Vic muttered as the rifle butt came down on the back of Doc’s head. The cage she was in looked like nothing so much as a four by three foot dog kennel. With a three foot ceiling, she had no room to stand, so she sat against the back wall and waited for her own Mauser butt.
Surprisingly, it didn’t come. From the expressions on their captors’ faces it seemed they didn’t consider either her or Gilly a threat. Instead they just jabbed their bayonets far enough into the cages to make sure they were at the far end from the gate and then ignored them.
Both she and Gilly were left alone in their kennels as the gorillas held a brief discussion and then formed up around the cart. A slightly smaller than average brown shirt hopped onto the bench in the front of the cart and snapped a whip in the air above the harnessed dinosaur.
The big creature ambled forward with an ostrich-like gait, setting the cart into rattling motion. The bars bounced against her back, forcing her to sit upright in the straw and hold on to the bars to either side. Although the road was smooth, riveted iron wheels weren’t going to give a comfortable ride on any surface. Oh well, the seat was worse, but on the whole it wasn’t much different than riding a bicycle on cobblestones.
The city itself wasn’t like anything Vic had ever seen, and she had seen a lot starting with her childhood in Saint Petersburg. Her grandmother had got her out of Russia on the Trans-Siberian Railroad, and then they had taken ship south around Asia and up through Suez from Vladivostok. She had seen both Shanghai and Bombay before she was ten; Alexandria, Athens, and Rome too.
At first glance, the buildings looked to be covered with a shiny green stucco. At second, they looked more like they were carved from solid stone. Still, it was the inhabitants more than the buildings that caught Vic’s eye. The broad white avenues held more gorillas than she had ever seen in her life.
It wasn’t actually that large a number, certainly not in comparison to the human population in cities like Bombay or New York, but it was large enough to make an impression. Where all the apes she had seen so far had dressed like Americans or Europeans, these gorillas weren’t. Instead, they wore loose kilts and caftans, with obvious pockets and sporrans. It wasn’t all brown, either. Bright colors were common and many wore what could only be dinosaur feathers as decorations. The bright yellow feathers reminded Vic of the gorilla that had fallen to his death just after Schmidt transformed.
The road they were traveling was obviously the city’s main thoroughfare, paved with something like white macadam. It cut straight across the city, heading towards a narrow path that climbed the inside of the crater wall that disappeared not far from the rim. The further they traveled, the more obvious it became that the city was severely underpopulated. If anything, the current population reminded Vic of squatters huddling in the ruins of a lost civilization. To be fair though, this city looked in far better shape than most such cities she had seen. It also looked far newer, lacking the centuries of weathering and undergrowth that characterized such cities.
She took a moment to check out the others. Doc was clearly out cold, and it looked like he’d have a nice bump on the back of his head when he woke up. Gilly wasn’t doing much; the trip seemed to have taken a lot out of him so he was probably hoarding his strength. It wasn’t surprising. Gus was the one that worried her. For whatever reason, their captors seemed to have a real hatred for him. Doc had been knocked out because he was a threat; Gus looked like he’d been beaten for punishment.
It wasn’t long before they reached the end of the road, where their captors opened their cages and gestured Vic and Gilly out. Vic scooted along the floorboards to the opening, not caring if she brought some of the straw with her. Once on her feet, she stretched as discreetly as she could; why draw attention if she didn’t have to? Gilly had managed to make his own way to the ground, and was at least standing upright. Meanwhile, one of the guards reached in and pulled Doc out by one foot, while the other two simply dropped Gus on his frame to the ground.
“Walk.” The closest guard looked at Vic and then pointed to the narrow track. At about ten or twelve feet, it wasn’t that narrow but certainly narrow enough for a trip up the inside of the cone.
Without moving her head too obviously, Vic tried to look for an escape route. The buildings went right up to the wall, so there weren’t many alleys nearby. The sound of a guard working a rifle bolt brought her attention back to the path and she started upwards.
The stone was smooth and easy to walk on, though she thought it would be a nightmare in any sort of rainstorm. It was only about fifty yards to the first switchback, and Vic took the opportunity to look down and check on her companions. One of the guards had handed his rifle off to another and had Doc slung over his shoulder like a sack of grain. Two more were dragging Gus up the path, using the frame like a travois. She couldn’t see Gilly but from the lack of complaints she figured he was doing well enough.
With several hundred feet of altitude to go, the walk was going to take a while. Every second switchback gave Vic another look at the city, and she took all the advantage she could. The central park was the biggest feature, followed by what looked like nothing so much as a miniature colosseum. It was smaller and squatter than the one in Rome, but there was no mistaking its design.
“At least they have entertainment,” she muttered.
The gorilla behind her growled something she couldn’t quite make out. She picked up her pace a little, breathing deeper as she sped up. They weren’t going to drag her in without some dignity. Gilly must have followed her lead, because the next time she looked back she saw that both Doc and Gus had fallen far behind.
Another few turns took her to the opening, where the white path changed abruptly to blackest obsidian. A smooth tunnel took her deep into the side of the caldera, opening out into a large chamber that centered on a pillar of fire. The whole place reeked of an ancient evil, making her shiver even as the temperature climbed.
Coils of flame lashed out across the floor, scoring the stone like an executioner’s knout.
Vic stopped and stared, mesmerized by the flames. Figures and images danced on the surface of the column, telling nonsensical stories of inhuman creatures. Each gout of flame sent a pulse of heat up from the scar in her palm. For a moment, she forgot where she was, only seeing the heat of the pillar. The temperature rose even further, tracing symbols on her skin.
#
Pain stabbed behind Doc’s eyeballs. His entire body ached, the pain radiating out from the center of his skull and spreading all the way to his toes. Without opening his eyes, he could tell he was in a large room or chamber, fastened to a post or stake. Something was burning, but Doc couldn’t recognize the smell. He started to wriggle his fingers, and a wave of heat washed over him.
Open your eyes, you are fooling no one.
Doc snapped his eyes open at the first touch of the mental voice. A pillar of flame danced in front of him, rising from a pit in the center of a huge chamber. Everything about the chamber screamed its age, from the pathways worn into the obsidian floor to the gray smoke baked into the ceiling. Vic and Gilly were tied to posts in the floor beside him, barely visible out of the corners of his eye. Gus, still chained to the frame, lay face down on the floor, struggling to breathe against its weight.
Beside the pillar stood Schmidt, the flames reflecting off the greatcoat he still wore despite the hundred-degree heat. Four gorillas in full brown shirt regalia stood near Gus, two on either side. Even with all the prisoners securely bound, the gorillas had their rifles at the ready.
Schmidt turned to the pillar and gave a Nazi salute, the click of his heels the loudest thing in the chamber. The four gorillas responded with the same salute, but without the heel-click. The whole tableaux reminded Doc of the newsreels he had seen coming out of Germany since the Nazis took over, and he shivered involuntarily.
The pillar pulsed with waves of heat that spread through the chamber, filling Doc’s mind and probably others. I see the Escapee has returned; his death will be painful. Take him and the others away, but leave My vehicle.
Against the Eldest Flame (Doc Vandal Adventures Book 1) Page 8