"Pete!" Vic was whispering excitedly in my ear. "Listen, Pete, I think I
see through this. These priests have heard about us and our
death-dealing ability. They're jealous; they want a corner on that. Old
Ee-pay figures maybe we could do him a favor in that line, and that's
why he's arguing. The priests want to honor us for the good we've
done--by giving us the reward we've just seen. So--"
Before he could finish, Ee-pay was thrust aside by a group of angry
guards, and I was jerked away. Hope screamed, and out of the tail of my
eye I saw both Vic and Hope struggling frantically to free themselves
from an overwhelming number of guards. Vic tried to shout something, but
a claw-like brown hand was immediately thrust over his mouth.
* * * * *
The guards who held me, followed by the priests, made their way toward
the extended palms which formed the altar of this strange black god
whose favor was death. At a command from the priests, the guards lifted
me to the altar and then stood watchfully below, gazing up at me with
puzzled, mournful, envious eyes.
I saw the priests crouch low, and make their first beseeching bow, in
imitation of the black god. Frantically, I looked about me, seeking some
avenue of escape.
Below me, hemming me in, were the guards; a triple ring of them, through
which I knew I could not escape. Behind me, for I was facing the
multitude, was the hideous, grinning face of the idol.
The priests bowed a second time.
Both Hope and Vic were fighting desperately, but there were at least ten
guards to each of them. I lifted my hand and waved a farewell, hoping
that one of them at least would see the gesture and know that my last
thought was of them.
Then, as the priests completed their third bow, I turned and faced the
statue.
As my eyes fell upon the shutter behind the thick, grinning lips, the
shutter which released the lethal force, a wild and desperate idea came
to me. With a shout, I jerked the gun from my pocket and leaped aside.
As I did so, I fired twice into the gaping mouth, and saw the bullets
shatter the heavy shutter. Then, with the humming sound ringing in my
ears like a note of death, I leaped clear, into the midst of the waiting
guards.
* * * * *
For an instant, there was no movement, no sound, from all that vast
crowd. Even the guards seemed stunned, and I tore my way through them
with hardly a pause in my stride.
Then a shrill cry went up; a cry that drowned utterly the humming sound
that issued from the shattered mouth of the idol. Blindly, the multitude
surged towards the scarlet ray that dealt death, fighting their way
toward the oblivion they so highly prized.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account