Patty waited patiently. She hadn't taken her eyes from the spot where the lifeboat was last seen. She wasn't scared, though. The prayer had calmed everybody. Their friends were going to be okay, it was just a matter of time until they could be caught up to.
The Boss, Roger, and Ed were on hand when Captain Talbot got a final damage report. They'd be stuck for a couple of days. The disturbance had hit with enough force to smash the starboard props, bending the shafts and removing one blade entirely. The shafts could be forced back into position, but the blades would need repairs they weren't equipped to perform. Providently, the rupture to the hull was minimal and a quick weld was holding just fine. Still, they were dead in the water. Talbot had no choice but radio for help from other ships. Unfortunately, there were none in the area due to the volcanic disturbance and there wouldn't be any for another day.
On the island, Steve and the girls had managed to outrun the rain. It was sunset as Steve pulled the lifeboat ashore and beached it before turning to look at the area they'd found themselves in. They'd need to find shelter from the imminent downpour. A cave would be best, if there was one. Minerva froze.
"I thought I saw a light in the jungle!"
"A light?" Daisy looked but didn't see anything. Yvette climbed up on a rise near the beach. She was absolutely dumbfounded as she turned back to the others.
"Get a load of this." The others climbed up to join Yvette and stood in momentary silence as they looked upon what Yvette had called their attention to. Nestled in the jungle atop a hill was a luxurious mansion. The group was soon huddled near the main door as the rains began to fall. Steve readied to knock on the door, but he was stopped by Beverly.
"Steve," the girl began, "a group of actresses and their photographer have run across a mansion on a tiny island. The Boss himself couldn't have dreamed up a better scenario for a spooker. Let's go back to the beach."
"Bev," Steve smiled as he shook his head, "you know we can't do that. Whoever lives here undoubtedly has a radio. We need to contact the Conqueror and let the others know we're alright."
"And what sort of person owns a private island and a mansion? ISLAND OF LOST SOULS! THE MOST DANGEROUS GAME! There's probably a guy in there who looks like Boris Karloff, and he has a doorman that looks like Tor Johnson. This can't turn out in our favor!"
"Plenty of people own private islands who aren't using them to act out sinister purposes. I'll bet you a dollar whoever lives here is more Liberace than Lugosi."
"You're on." Steve gently pushed Beverly out of the way and knocked at the door. Steve knocked a second time with more force. Inside could be heard someone scrambling for the door. In a moment, the door was pulled open by a man still stuffing his shirt into his slacks.
"I'm sorry," he said, "we obviously weren't expecting guests. Come in and make yourselves comfortable while I tell the Doc you're here." Beverly was expecting Tor Johnson, but she got Lee Van Cleef. As the group shuffled inside, Bev nudged Steve's arm.
"Doc. Tell me that doesn't sound ominous."
"Only if you've read too many pulp stories." Steve turned back to the man as he was moving for the huge staircase leading up to the second level. "Say, buddy..."
"Oh, my name is Armstrong. Clete Armstrong. I'm sort of the live-in maintenance man for the Doc."
"I assume he has a radio? We have people looking for us."
"He's got a radio, alright, but it doesn't always cooperate during these electrical storms."
"How often do you have these storms?" Daisy asked.
"Most nights. That's one reason the Doc built his place out here. For his experiments. I'll go tell him you're here." Armstrong bounded up the stairs. A thunderclap sounded. The girls began to huddle around a huge table in the middle of the room. Beverly narrowed her eyes as she looked at Steve. He sighed as he looked back at her. It was all in good humor.
"You've been in the movies too long, Bev. It makes perfect sense that a scientist would set up shop in a place like this, particularly if his experiments require this sort of climate."
"There's always a guy who says something like that."
"Okay, Bev," Jeannie chimed in, "tell us what you think we can expect. Giant spiders in the basement? Zombies in the jungle? Abbott and Costello in the hallway?"
"I'm not saying we have monsters," Beverly insisted, "but I tell you something is fishy around here. How could there not be?" Jeannie sighed and tried a different tactic.
"Do you remember that boy with the leather jacket? The one we only saw at night?"
"That was a perfectly reasonable mistake." Beverly became sheepish. Steve asked what the story was.
"When we lived in L.A.," Jeannie explained, "there was this boy who walked by our house every night for a week. Beverly was convinced he was a prowler looking to make off with one of us. Dad tried to talk sense to her, but Bev ended up digging a pit in the lawn to trap the guy. Turns out he was taking night classes and had to cut across our lawn to reach his motorcycle. He kept it parked way at the end of the street so he wouldn't disturb anybody when he drove off."
"Okay, I got carried away," Beverly was defeated, "but I didn't hurt him. The pit wasn't that deep."
"If Dad hadn't heard the commotion and stopped you, you would have killed the guy." Jeannie turned back to Steve. "She was waiting for him in the bushes, armed with a baseball bat."
"I thought I was protecting the neighborhood," Beverly turned red, "I was just a kid." That conversation limped to a stop. Yvette, Minerva, and Daisy turned their attention to a gigantic painting hanging above the fireplace. It was a massive depiction of a sun-baked desert littered with the bones of dead cattle.
"You don't suppose Bev has a point," Yvette leaned toward the others, "do you?"
"It certainly is in contrast to the view out the window," Daisy offered, "isn't it?" Minerva's immediate observation was a bit more technical in nature.
"Where does one get a thirty-foot canvas?"
"It used to be a theater screen." A deep, powerful voice sounded from atop the stairs. All turned to see a tall, elder man who for all the world looked and sounded like John Carradine. Steve fished a buck out of his pocket and handed it over to Beverly. "I had that piece commissioned as constant incentive to continue my work. Allow me to introduce myself, I'm Dr. Noyman. I've instructed Clete to contact your ship, but we've had bad interference since the storm began. Given the signals we picked up earlier today, however, I must assume that you came from the Conqueror."
"That's right," Daisy said, "do you think we'll be able to contact them before long?"
"These storms usually last through the night," Noyman offered, " but sunup to evening tend to be clear and dry. I should be able to send word of your rescue tomorrow morning, but the Conqueror has suffered damage that will keep it from moving for the next few days. They can arrange for another ship to collect you, however."
"Then I guess the storm doesn't matter," Daisy shrugged, "you'd be stuck with us overnight either way."
"The prospect isn't entirely unpleasing," Noyman smiled, "we seldom have guests, as you might imagine. We do have room for company, however. Due to the storms, we often have to house until morning the crews of the cargo ships that supply us."
"Armstrong told us you built this place to take advantage of the storms for your work," Minerva pointed at the painting, "work you say this painting inspires. I'm not seeing the connection between the desert and electrical storms on a tropical island."
"It's fairly simple, really, I'm experimenting with plant growth. I'm hoping to make crops more resilient through electrical stimulation, thus creating plants strong enough to survive the most arid environment." Noyman looked upon the painting. "Should I succeed, vast useless wastelands will become valuable farmland."
"That sounds benign enough." Jeannie whispered to Beverly. Beverly smiled before whispering back.
"So did the experiment which resulted in the Killer Shrews."
In the radio room, Clete was having no fortune in contacting the Conqueror. His wife Julie entered, adjusting her robe as she did.
"You never came back, Clete. What goes on?"
"Company. That disaster we heard about earlier? One of the lifeboats got separated from the ship and ended up here."
"Are they alright?"
"Yeah, they looked fine. I don't think I'll be able to contact their ship before morning, with all this interference. Doc should have plenty of juice for his experiments, though. This is one of the biggest electrical storms we've ever had."
"I'll get dressed an meet our guests."
"I think you'll get a kick out of it. Do you know who's down there? Minerva Mallen, Daisy Poise, the Baxter sisters, and Yvette Pond!"
"Really?!!" Soon enough, Julie was entering the main hall, overwhelmed to meet such an assortment of stars. Clete came down the stairs a few moments later, apologizing that the ship couldn't be raised. Steve wanted to get back to his wife, but he still appreciated everything Clete and Dr. Noyman had done. He thanked them before stepping over to the window and looking out to sea.
TO BE CONTINUED...
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