Dagon Rising(43)

The middle-aged man gasped at those words. Recognition flittered across some of their faces. The long haired man frowned.

“The Dark Ones are in the process of waking Dagon up,” Josel explained. “Your arrival here spoiled plans for their great awakening ritual that was to culminate tonight. They consider your presence here to be sacrilege. This is why we have treated you so harshly. Our treatment of you wasn’t out of some cultural difference…it was an effort to drive you away, to spare your lives.”

“So that’s why you kept chasing my ancestors off this island,” Keoni exclaimed.

Josel nodded at Keoni. “That is why. It was done to save you all. Because our mission has always been to keep mankind away from this island.”

“We just thought you had weird superstitions,” the long haired man said. “Keoni told us some of your beliefs earlier, but—”

“No buts.” Josel held up his hand. “We must leave now if we wish to make it to the eastern quadrant of the tunnels.” He pushed through them and beckoned them to follow. “Come! This way!”

And with that, Josel led Keoni Mumea and the four scientists back through the tunnels, hoping that at this stage in the game all of the Dark Ones were above ground. Because where he was taking them was very close to R’lyeh. It wasn’t all the way into the forbidden, sunken cyclopean city. No. White people had never seen it and never would. Not if Josel could help it. But it was close enough that Dark Ones, or even creatures worse than the Dark Ones could be lurking about. He had no other choice. To take them up into any of the other paths the tunnels led out to—the living rooms of the nine tribal chiefs—would simply place them back into the battlefield again. They couldn’t escape by boat, they couldn’t escape by plane— Naranu had no official airport, per se—and they couldn’t simply hide in the jungle. They had to travel underground, skirt around the outskirts of R’lyeh, and make it to the east side of the island where they would be spilled out onto a remote beach. On this beach was a private landing strip where, occasionally, black planes from the United States touched down. Josel had always been fearful of the men who emerged from these planes. In many ways, they were as sinister and dangerous as the Dark Ones themselves. Yet unlike the scientists and researchers, they never meddled. They simply observed quietly, then left like spirits. They had arranged with Josel to have the landing strip maintained with modern equipment, manned by a select handful of his people. Josel had done so, selecting four of his best acolytes to maintain vigilance on this section of land twenty-four hours a day.

Somebody would be there now. Even if the Dark Ones had managed to reach that part of the island and destroy the lone building that stood there, they would have taken refuge in the secret room that had been built. This secret room was only accessible through the building itself and the tunnels.

Josel paused for a moment. He turned to the white people and Keoni. “Keoni Mumea?”

“Yes, Josel.”

“You are a good man. You have done well by these people and your forefathers.”

“Thank you, Josel.”

“You might see horrible things,” Josel continued, choosing his words carefully. “Things man was never meant to see. Things that are only whispered about… things only rumored about. If you see them, you are to turn your heads and look the other way as we pass by. Agreed?”

“Yes.” Keoni’s answer was swift.

Josel regarded the four white people. “And you?”

The young woman nodded. “Yes, of course.” The middle-aged man and woman nodded too. The long haired man was the last to agree. Josel watched him. He would have to be monitored closely. Especially when they reached the outskirts of R’lyeh.

“How far are we going?” the middle aged man asked.

“About two miles, to the east,” Josel answered. He motioned for Keoni to join him at the head of the group. “Keoni, your flashlight!”

Keoni joined Josel at the head of the group and together, they led the four scientists down the tunnel. And as they left his cottage farther behind, Josel hoped that they reached the landing strip in time. Because he was fairly certain the mainlanders who visited this island in their black planes and helicopters would be arriving very shortly.





ELEVEN



Jennifer’s mind had been racing with dreadful anticipation since descending into the tunnels. She was frightened, most certainly. After all she’d been through in the past few years, she’d thought the nightmare was finally over. Now, here she was again, on the run from the Clickers and their reptilian masters. She had no idea if she’d make it off this island. This uncertainty made her think of her parents, of her cat back at home, of having second thoughts as to her career choice. If she hadn’t been so driven to succeed in her career, had settled for a more sedate life of teaching marine biology at the university level, she wouldn’t be half-way around the world being chased by giant lizard-men and mutant crustaceans that could melt you with one sting and suck you up like a spilled milk-shake.