He stood then on the front porch, his hand closing over the knob of the door.
It was locked.
He pressed the bell then and heard its clarion sound inside the house. But other than that there was nothing to be heard. A deep, ominous silence that somehow brought a feeling of panic to him. Was he too late?
And then suddenly the panel in the front of the door opened and a face peered out at him.
Fred Trent felt the blood drain from his lips. A paralysis seemed to grip his body at what he saw framed in the opening.
For it was not the face of a human being. And yet, it was not the face of an animal. It was a horrible, twisted, cat-like visage that peered out at him, furred and ugly, with bared teeth and glowing, feline eyes.
And as he looked, a sound came from the twisted lips. It was the same sound he had heard over the telephone. The sound of a growling rage.
And as the sound hit his ears, a terrible realization swept over him. For his eyes, riveted on that monstrous countenance, had registered an impossible fact upon his mind.
As twisted as it was, as horribly changed into an animal grimace, it was the face of someone he knew—the English scientist, Blair Gaddon!
And then suddenly the face vanished from the opening. And Fred Trent felt his paralysis leave him. He knew now that he should never have come alone. That he should have called the police first. That he—
The door swung open then and Trent found himself facing the thing that had been Gaddon.
He took a backward step and started to turn and run for his car and help, but he was too slow.
An arm shot out and a claw-like hand suddenly gripped his shoulder in a swift, steel-like movement. He felt himself being pulled forward and into the house, as another growl snarled from the lips of the creature.
Trent tried to break the grip of that vise-like hand. He tried to smash his fist into the ugly visage of a face that confronted him. But he was like a child in that grip. And like a child, he was hurled across the hall, and he heard the door slam shut behind him.
As he got slowly to his feet and turned to face the creature, he heard a sobbing sound from the open door of the consultation room. It was the voice of Joan Drake.
And then the monster had reached him and the clawed hand reached out and spun him through the doorway, into the consultation room. And he heard a growling voice utter harshly: “You will regret this interference, Trent!”
And he knew that it was the voice of Blair Gaddon. And yet he also knew that it was not the same voice. It was changed. It had a bestial quality to it.
Then Trent looked around him. He saw Joan Drake, huddled in a corner of the room, beside Dr. Stanley Fenwick. The specialist was sitting in a chair, holding his right hand to his mouth. Fred could see blood oozing from a gash in the surgeon’s lips.
* * * *
And then he heard another sound. A sound from without the house, coming from the rear. It was the baying of Brutus. The big dog must have sensed the presence of the monster. And it was protesting in its animal voice, a mournful dirge.
Then his attention was drawn once again to the animal body of Blair Gaddon. And now that the first shock had left him, Trent stared at the man. He heard the girl sob.
“Fred! I told you to bring help—”
“Be quiet!” the voice of Gaddon issued from the twisted lips. And the girl’s sob stifled itself in a look of dread.
Then the face that had been Gaddon turned to Trent. There was a twisted leer to it, and Fred sensed that there was a struggle going on in that warped mind.
“You are Gaddon? The Blair Gaddon who went up with the experimental rocket?” Trent’s voice came incredulously.
The face of the creature twisted in a grimace of acknowledgment.
“Yes, Trent. I am Blair Gaddon. I am not a pretty sight to look at, am I?” Words left the twisted lips, and there was a bestial pain in them.
“But—you’re supposed to be dead! Mathieson—”
A strange sound of irony came from Gaddon.
“Mathieson was right about the cosmic rays—I know that now. Look at me! You see what has happened to me? I sought immortality through the life energy of space—and look at me!”
Horror reflected in Fred’s eyes in that moment. For he felt the pained terror in the voice of the animal shape before him. And he saw the claw-like hands clench spasmodically.
“My glands!” the voice screamed. “The cosmic rays reacted on them—fed the essence of the cat into them—changed me into this monstrous being!”
Trent stared at the rage-filled face. Felt the emotion that was sweeping through the creature. Felt a sudden compassion that was erased by the bestial look that came into the monster’s eyes.
And then it turned toward the chair where Fenwick sat. The doctor was looking at the creature, his eyes wide and terrified.
“But what do you expect me to do for you, Gaddon? Why do you stand here threatening—” Fenwick’s voice came hoarsely.
“Why? You fool! Because there is so little time! I am changing! Even now my human instincts are nearly gone…! You’re a gland specialist! There is something you can do—stop this change—stop it!”
Fenwick shook his head slowly. “You’re raving like a madman, Gaddon. I’m not a God—do you think I can change something that is beyond human understanding? If you’ll only let me call in the authorities.…”
A growl of rage left Gaddon’s animal lips. “Authorities! So you can have me put in cage like a wild beast? So you and your medical experts can stand and watch me as you would a freak? You’re a fool! You’ll help me now! You’ll do something—before it’s too late! Do you hear me?”
The creature advanced slowly upon the doctor, and the girl backed away to the far wall, fear mirrored in her eyes.
Then Fred Trent stepped forward, his voice tense.
“Hold on, Gaddon—of course the doctor will help you—won’t you, Fenwick?”
There was an urgent emphasis in Trent’s last words, and his eyes caught those of the surgeon’s, and held them in a meaningful look. He couldn’t say what he wanted to, but the message in his eyes was imparted to Fenwick, and the doctor suddenly nodded.
“Yes—yes, of course.… But you’ll have to remain quiet, Gaddon, and be patient a moment.…”
The creature stopped its advance upon Fenwick then. And a growl rumbled in Gaddon’s animal throat.
Then Fred watched as the doctor stepped swiftly to a table with instruments and hurriedly began to prepare a hypodermic.
“I’ll give you a special extract injection to start.…” Fenwick explained as he worked.
And Trent knew that the doctor was preparing an injection that would subdue the monster. That would enable them to call the police.…
And the eyes of Gaddon watched the fingers of the surgeon prepare the hypodermic. And for a single moment the human part of Gaddon’s monster mind relaxed its tenacious hold.
* * * *
There was a rumble of raging thought deep within his twisted brain. It swept up, gripped the human element, and enveloped it. A hoarse mewing sound left the twisted lips as the mind became a single, bestial thing.
And now it thought with a viciousness. It knew now that it was finally in control. That the full change had been completed. And it knew suddenly what it wanted.
Its animal eyes stared at the three humans. And it felt a hatred for the men who did not understand it. And it felt a desire for the woman who feared it. A desire that crept out of the primeval jungles. That swept through it to find one of its kind. And there was the vague instinct that was Gaddon, who told it how to fulfill that desire. Gaddon, who knew where the secret lay.
And then there was the driving urge that swept up from the animal ages. The urge to kill, to destroy what was hated. And the eyes of the monster fastened on the figure of Fenwick as the doctor turned from the table, the hypodermic in his hand.
“All right, Gaddon.…”
The voice of Fenwic
k trailed off. And Fred Trent stared at the face of the monster. What he saw there brought a chill to his being. And he heard the girl gasp from the far corner of the room, as her eyes too saw the change that had spread over the face of the creature.
For there was no longer any vestige of human recognition in that face. There was no longer any trace of the man who had been Gaddon. There was only the monster now. The twisted, leering lips of an animal mind.
A harsh growl left those lips then and the creature moved forward toward the surgeon.
Trent knew what was happening, and he knew what he must do. There was death on that bestial face. Death that was reaching out.…
He heard the dim baying of the Great Dane from the rear of the house as he leaped forward.
Then his fist lashed out and caught the animal face in a lashing blow. His knuckles felt numb as he screamed:
“The hypodermic—doctor—quick!”
Then the creature turned on him and a long arm shot out. Trent felt a claw rake across his face and felt the burning bite of that claw sink into his flesh. Then, as he tried to dodge away from the beast and bring his fist up again, the monster leaped at him and Trent felt a powerful blow crash against his chin.
He spun back, falling to the floor, his head hitting the edge of an examining table. His senses reeled and he felt the blood running down his cheek, a warm, sticky stream that dripped to the floor.
He fought to keep his consciousness as he saw the beast turn away from him, satisfied that he was out of the way. Then he saw it leap at the stunned figure of Fenwick.
He heard the girl scream in terror and he saw Fenwick’s arm come up with the hypodermic. He saw the doctor try to bring the needle down in a jab, but the monster’s arm swept the needle aside and then a claw-like hand gripped Fenwick’s throat.
There was a gasp of terror from Fenwick’s lips as those fingers closed around his neck. Then the hypodermic fell from his nerveless hand and he fought to break away.
A deep rumbling growl spat from the lips of the monster as it closed with the struggling figure of Fenwick. Then the claws that were its hands raked the surgeon’s throat in a feline rage.
Trent watched with numbed eyes, fighting back the wave of blackness that threatened to overcome him, and he saw the figure of Fenwick suddenly go limp in the grip of the monster.
He saw a spurt of blood burst from the man’s torn throat, and then the creature dropped the limp body.
It fell to the floor, and a wave of red washed across the floor from the mangled throat. The monster stood over the lifeless body, a triumphant sound issuing from its twisted lips.
Then it turned toward the girl.
Trent tried to move. He tried to push back the weakness that numbed his body. But he couldn’t. His head swam with the pain of the blow he had received, and he could only watch through half-closed eyes as the monster reached out for the girl.
Joan Drake screamed once as the long arms reached out for her. Then her voice ended abruptly as she fell to the floor in a faint.
The monster stood over her for a moment, then it reached down and picked up her body in its blood-splattered arms.
It turned for a moment, holding the girl, and shot a hate-filled glance at Trent’s limp figure.
Then it moved swiftly across the room and out into the hall.
And the baying of the Great Dane sounded angrily in Fred Trent’s ears.…
* * * *
With a superhuman effort Fred Trent forced the numbness from his body and moved slowly to his feet. A horror gripped him that brought a new strength to his body, flooded it.
He stepped over the body of Fenwick, forcing his eyes away from the grisly sight of it as he dashed to the hallway.
“Joan—Joan!”
The girl’s name came hoarsely from his lips as he ran into the hall and stared at the open door of the house. He ran to the door and out into the night.
His eyes stared wildly into the darkness, searching the street. But he saw nothing but his parked car at the curb. The monster had vanished. And with him, the unconscious girl.
A hopeless despair welled up inside Trent at that moment. For he knew he could never hope to find the creature now. And by the time help came it would be too late. They would find Joan’s mangled body.…
The baying of the Great Dane rang in his ears then. The huge dog’s howls of rage thundered in his ears and he heard the hound crash its great body against the closed door at the end of the hall, striving to get through.
And then a cry of hope left Trent’s lips. He turned and ran back into the house. He grabbed the long leash from its wall hook beside the rear door and then he swung the door partway open.
“Brutus! Quiet, Brutus!”
The head of the Great Dane struggled through the partly opened door, a snarl of rage welling from the huge dog’s mouth as Trent shouted at it.
Then he slipped the leash into its metal ring around the neck of the dog and pulled the door open.
The animal rushed into the hall, nearly tearing the leash from Fred Trent’s hands as it lunged forward.
The dog paused beside the open door of the consultation room where the body of Fenwick lay dead and still on the floor. The animal lifted its muzzle and sniffed the air. A howl of anguished rage left it then and Trent knew that the dog sensed its master had been murdered. And then it caught the scent of the monster, the thing that had caused its wild rage to be unleashed, and it leaped forward, down the hall and out the front door into the night.
Trent held the leash tightly in his hands, running behind the straining dog, jumping over a low hedge after the animal as it headed down the shadowed street to the edge of the city.
And then the last house was behind them and Trent was racing behind the dog out into the desert land beyond.
* * * *
His breath was an aching fire in his throat. His legs were numbed beyond feeling. They were parts of his body that simply refused to stop moving, though every nerve and muscle in them screamed in protest.
It seemed like he had been running for hours, half tripping, stumbling across the darkened ground behind the seemingly tireless body of the Great Dane.
They ran in near silence now. Only the sounds of their labored breathing mingled with the night wind. The howls of rage no longer issued from the throat of the huge dog. There was only its panting breath, and the strain of its mighty body as it sought to tear loose from the man holding it.
But Trent held grimly to the leash, running as fast as his numbed body would go.
And he knew he could not go much further. That soon he would drop to the ground in exhaustion. That his last reserve of energy was nearly spent.
And then his eyes peered through the darkness ahead and he saw a glow of lights in the distance. And suddenly he knew those lights. And he became aware of where they were racing toward.
It was the Rocket Proving Grounds!
And the fence of the government project loomed close ahead.
And as they neared the fence, Trent’s eyes pierced the darkness and he saw a jagged tear in the metal mesh of the fence. A tear that stood as high as a man, a hole through which a man could have entered.
The Great Dane bounded toward that hole and Trent followed the dog through it. He felt the animal pause momentarily and he nearly stumbled over a body lying on the ground at his feet just inside the fence.
His heart stood still for a moment and the girl’s name sped to his lips. But he never uttered the word. For he suddenly saw that it was the body of a guard. A body whose torn throat lay red and gory in death.
And then the Great Dane let a howl of anger out on the night wind, and the beast leaped forward again, Trent running behind it.
And ahead of them, Trent saw a great looming shape in the darkness, and as his eyes fell upon it, a despairing terror gripped him.
It was the second rocket! Standing in its cradle, silent in the night, a shaft of metal that looked skyward.
And a re
alization of what the monster had in mind struck him. He knew now where they were headed. He knew why the monster had torn the fence, why a guard had been killed where he stood.
And as if the thought had been a prelude, he saw the rocket loom before them as the Great Dane bounded around its base.
And he saw the metal stairway leading up to the middle of the giant projectile.
And at the top of those stairs, going into the now open rocket chamber, was the monster, holding the unconscious girl in its arms.
The Great Dane saw the creature in the same instant. And a terrible howl of rage welled from its throat. It gave a lunge forward then that broke Trent’s grip from the leash he held. And the dog was free.
* * * *
The monster turned in the same moment and saw them. A roar of feline anger left its throat as the huge dog leaped up the steps toward the platform above.
The monster dropped the girl’s body on the narrow platform and backed toward the opening of the rocket chamber.
Then the Great Dane reached the platform and poised itself for a leap.
Trent was dashing forward toward the stairs as the dog’s body flew through the air. He saw the flashing jaws of the animal snap at the throat of the monster, as its heavy body smashed against it.
Then the arms of the creature were tearing at the dog as it was forced back into the rocket chamber.
Trent’s feet flew up the stairs, his breath a tortured gasp in his throat. He saw the girl stir on the platform, as consciousness returned to her.
“Joan!”
Her name sped from his lips as he reached the top step. Then his hands closed around the girl’s shoulders, lifting her to her feet.
The snarl of the Great Dane reached his ears from the rocket chamber, and the answering roar of rage from the monster as they fought. His eyes saw the vague, terrible shadows of them, heard the snapping jaws of the dog, and the raking claws.
And then he was dragging the girl down the steps.
They reached the ground and Trent pulled her away from the rocket, felt her come to life in his arms, heard the sob on her lips.
The Dog Megapack Page 18