“What did you see?”
“Some strange, huge village-almost a city. I don’t really know how to describe it. It was pretty big. Multistory structures, built on some kind of bamboo pilings. It was deserted, and most had been burned to the ground.”
“Deserted?”
“Yes, sir. Well, sort of deserted. It wasn’t abandoned willingly; it looked like there’d been a fight. Bones, sir. Bones everywhere, and a few mostly scavenged bodies off in the jungle. They were furry and had tails and… they weren’t human.”
“Sir,” said Mallory stiffly, “there was nothing left alive out of a city of hundreds, easily, and it looked like whatever got them ate them. Not just scavengers either. Most of the bones were… piled up.”
Pam Cross had left and reentered with a thermometer during the conversation. Her face was hard.
“Did you see it too?” Ellis asked.
“I did,” she said simply and poked the device in his mouth.
Brister cleared his throat. “Well, sir, we got the hell out. Kaufman became even more unhinged. He insisted our only hope was Ceylon and had us pour it on. He wouldn’t listen to reason. By then, almost everyone wanted to look for Walker, in spite of the consequences, but he said the next man who suggested it would be left in the whaleboat to look on his own.” He wiped at the sweat beading his brow, and the nurse removed the thermometer from Jim’s lips. She made a noncommittal sound. “Anyway, a storm kicked up and we shipped a lot of water. It wasn’t much of a storm, but shot up like we are, we were lucky to survive. Things settled down by morning, but we had to pump out and make repairs, so we ducked into this little bay on Panaitan Island-”
“That’s how we found the plane!” interrupted Mallory, a grin splitting his face.
“Plane?”
“Yes, sir. A PBY Catalina! If you can look out that porthole beside you, you might be able to see her!” Ellis struggled to rise, but he was very weak. Mallory immediately regretted the suggestion, but with a heavy sigh and rolling eyes, Nurse Cross helped him up. His head swam and his vision was blurred, but through the porthole, sure as the world, a familiar, battered seaplane was half beached on the island.
“You weren’t kidding!” he exclaimed. “Where’d it come from?”
The two men shrugged. “Same place we did, I guess,” said Mallory. “We steamed into the bay and there it was on the beach, its crew nowhere in sight. The place is crawling with lizards like bit your man on Menjangan…” He didn’t need to speculate on the air crew’s likely fate. “There were bullet holes all in it and it was full of water, but otherwise it seemed in pretty good shape-just out of gas. The radio’s crapped out- we checked that right off. Salt water corroded all the connections was Signalman Palmer’s guess. He’s been working with us. Anyway, we figure the same thing happened to it that happened to us, and it made it as far as the Sunda Strait before it ran out of fuel.”
“Maybe it was one of the PBYs that broke up the air attack on our ships when Houston took that bomb hit,” speculated Jim. “Bravest thing I ever saw, three flying boats diving among fighters and bombers, trying to throw ’em off their aim.” He shook his head. “Crazy.”
“Could be,” said Brister, “but that was a while before whatever happened to us… happened. Anyway, the good news is Mahan has high-octane gas in drums, aft, just like Walker-ironically, in case they ever need to refuel a seaplane. We put some in her and ran up the engines; no problem there, at least. The three of us’ve been working on her while everyone else works on the ship. My place is really here, I guess, but I don’t think Kaufman trusts me.”
“How long have we been here, and how long have you been working on it? Will it fly?” Everyone saw the hope kindle in his eyes.
“A week or so, and”-he lowered his voice-“another couple days’ll have her in the air.”
The general alarm sounded and they all jumped. “Battle stations, battle stations! Make all preparations for getting under way!” They looked at each other, perplexed by the commands. Suddenly Frankie Steele skidded to a stop outside the compartment.
“There’re ships in the strait!”
“Ships?” demanded Jim.
“Aye, sir… Glad to see you better! But big sailing ships, like in the movies-only these are real-and they’re headed this way!”
Jim looked at Brister and Mallory. “Go!” he said. “Save that plane! Don’t let Kaufman leave it!” Without another word, the men charged out of the compartment. On the weather deck they met Ed Palmer, rushing down to meet them.
“Go!” said Brister. “Get what you can. Food, water, whatever you can think of, and meet us at the whaleboat!”
“What are you going to do?”
“Make a deal with the devil!” he snarled and mounted the steps to the bridge. Kaufman was staring at the distant ships through binoculars, and his hands were shaking. “Captain Kaufman! What about the plane? We can’t just leave it here! Hell, we can have it flying by the end of the day! What are we running from?” Kaufman looked at him, and his bloodshot eyes were wide and glassy. He hadn’t shaved or even combed his hair in days. There was nothing left of the cocky aviator Brister had first met when he came aboard off Menjangan. His face had the look of a hunted, panicked animal, and his condition had infected much of the crew.
“Here!” Kaufman said, handing him the binoculars. His voice was shrill. In the distance, three red-hulled sailing ships struggled to beat up toward them. He focused a little more, and a chill swept down his back. “Those aren’t people,” he said lamely. They were monsters.
“Now you see why we have to go?” Kaufman insisted with manic sarcasm. “Hoist that boat aboard!”
“Wait,” said Brister, licking his lips. “The current and wind are both against them. It’ll be hours before they reach us. Let us try to finish the plane.” He paused and tried a different tack. “If we do, we’ll fly to Ceylon. Get help! Maybe they’ll send an escort.” That got through.
“Will you stake your life you can take off before they get here?”
Brister nodded.
“Good, because we won’t wait. Mr. Monroe!” he said, raising his voice. “Take Mr. Brister and his assistants ashore, then return as quick as you can!”
”You won’t even leave us a boat?” Brister asked, incredulous.
“No. You can go ashore, destroy the plane, and come back with Mr. Monroe, or you can try to fly it out. The choice is yours.”
Perry shook his head. “Captain Kaufman, you are a coward, sir.”
Without another word, he turned and dashed down the ladder. On the way to shore, he told the others what had happened.
“The hell with him. I’d rather take my chances with the plane,” Mallory exclaimed. Palmer said nothing, but his face was grim.
“You didn’t see what I saw,” Brister said. “I think our visitors are the same ones that wiped out… whatever they were at Chilachap. It’s either fly or die.”
The coxswain with Monroe giggled.
They reached the shore and tossed their gear on the beach beside the plane. “At least give us a hand bailing!” shouted Perry as the whaleboat pulled away.
“Mahan’s already pullin’ the hook!” shouted Monroe. “I’m not going to be left behind.” He threw a mocking salute. “It’s your funeral!”
“Bastard!” Palmer was seething.
They turned to look at the plane. Brister hoped he could make good on his vow. He didn’t know what was coming, but that one look had scared the hell out of him. “Well, what are we waiting for?”
They dove into their task with frantic abandon. They were too busy even to notice when Mahan steamed away, but when they did pause for a quick look, it seemed that one of the strange ships was trying to follow her. It was no use, of course, and it quickly turned back toward the bay. They’d seen the Catalina, and either the tide was making or the wind shifted just enough, because they were getting closer.
“Bail, damn it!” Brister yelled, and buckets of water flew from the observation blisters. The tide was making, because suddenly they were floating, but they were still too heavy to fly. Mallory leaned on his bucket, gasping, and watched the closing ships.
