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infringement intended.

Part 10b 

"It's hollow."  Katie said, tapping the wall again.  "Think 
it's a secret panel?"

"Not unless Angel and Vinnie don't know about it."  Simmone 
stuck the nail file into the thin crack and pried on it.

"Coil the ropes up," Krista suggested to Liz.  "We might 
need them when we get out of here. 

"I'm going to use mine to tie up that Angel," Liz said with 
unexpected determination.  The quiet little mouse had 
gained courage from being freed.  Krista just hoped they 
did not suffer a setback that would drive the girl back 
into her submissive shell.

"Got it."  Simmone opened a panel.  "It IS some kind of 
secret panel.  There's a passage here.  I bet this was some 
kind of escape route from this place.  I don't know why 
it's here or who built it, but I think we should use it."

"Maybe it's a pirate cave," Liz suggested.  "And we'll find 
a bunch of treasure."

"I'll settle for a good sword," Katie said angrily.  She 
was worried about her brother.  He was likely to try some 
stupidly heroic trick like trying to swim to another island 
for help.  Probably get drowned trying too.  What they 
needed to do was find him, get their hands on the raft, and 
leave Vinnie and Angel and their cohorts stranded here 
while they went for KISS.

"Unscrew that table leg and bring it with us."  Simmone 
found two old kerosene lamps on a shelf just inside the 
passage.  She searched her pockets and found some matches.  
"Come on.  Before they check on us."  She carefully lit the 
lamps.

Liz gazed into the dark passage.  "Do you think there's any 
snakes?"

Simmone was examining the back of the panel.  "Krista, 
bring all those table legs if you can."  She smiled at Liz.  
"We just need to watch where we step.  Snakes will run away 
if you give them warning."
"I grabbed the canned food and opener they had in here for 
us," Katie said, holding a bundle wrapped in one of the 
thin blankets.  "Here, Liz, you carry this stuff."  She 
handed the rest of the covers to the girl.  "We've got a 
couple gallons of fresh water too."

"I'll carry those," Krista offered.

"I'll take one."  Simmone did so and nodded to a lit lamp 
on the shelf.  "Krista, you come last and hold that lamp.  
I'll go first." She pushed the panel shut and used one 
table leg to jam it shut.  "There.  Even if they find the 
panel they can't follow us now unless they chop through the 
whole wall."  She took a short coil of rope and rigged a 
shoulder strap for the water jug.

Krista quickly followed Simmone's example.  "Now what?"

"We get out and find my son," Simmone said angrily.  "And 
then we go find Gene.  He'll take care of Vinnie and Angel.  
I should have told him we were on the ship.  I should have 
never kept our presence a secret.  And it's time you 
children met your fathers and they find out about you.  We 
won't have to worry about Vinnie and Angel once all four 
men are aware of the situation.  Vinnie and Angel are going 
to regret ever touching us."  She led them down the 
passage.

The passage ran between room walls, ending at a steep 
stairs.  They carefully went down the steps, ignoring the 
soft rustle of tiny feet fleeing the encroaching light.  
Simmone used her table leg to check each step to make sure 
it was solid.  She tapped the walls lightly, watching for 
weak spots that might collapse and also giving warning to 
the residents of the dark.  Creatures got out of your way 
if you gave them warning, and she was going to give 
sufficient warning that they did not end up facing some 
panicked animal.

They reached a spot well below the building above ground.  
Simmone decided this had to be a natural cave someone had 
built their house over.  She wondered why.  Protection?  
Storage?  The passage ended in an open area.

Whoever had built above, built walls to divide up the 
cavern ahead.  A hallway lead across the expanse, 
disappearing into darkness.  Rooms opened on each side, 
lightless cells in two rows.  Somewhere in the darkness, 
water dripped, the only sound except for their soft 
footsteps and an occasional soft sneeze that seemed to echo 
for minutes.

Simmone paused between the first set of doors.  Room?  No, 
prison cell.  Heavy doors with bars across their open upper 
half hung crookedly from hinges twisted and broken.  Bare 
cot.  Basic sanitary requirements.

"This looks like a prison," Katie whispered.  "What is this 
place?"

"I don't know."  Simmone slowly walked between the cells, 
the girls crowding close behind her.  Her light fell into 
the second set of cells and she heard Liz choke on a 
scream.

The skeleton lay near the door, one arm outstretched as if 
he had been trying to crawl out of the room.  There was 
something wrong about the bones.  Too big.  Legs oddly 
formed.  Obviously the man would have been deformed.  Had 
this been an asylum then?  A place to house society's less 
fortunate?  But why place it underground?

Liz hugged Simmone around the waist, trembling with fear.  
Simmone carefully put her arm around the girl and continued 
on, watching for any danger.  Katie followed, her table leg 
clutched in her hands like a club, the supplies tied into a 
pack on her back.  Krista brought up the rear, watching 
behind them, listening for trouble.

Four more cells contained bones, two with pieces so 
scattered it was impossible to tell if they possessed any 
deformity or if it was one body or two.  The third was 
reasonably intact and appeared human.  The fourth was the 
most disturbing because the bones had been separated, 
cracked open, and then neatly stacked in the corner.

The darkness weighed heavily on them, pressing in on the 
feeble yellow light from the lamps from all sides.  They 
huddled together, afraid to speak for fear of waking some 
lurking terror.  Simmone had even stopped tapping the 
floor, the sound seemingly much too loud.  The water drip 
echoed eerily.

They reached the far side of the cavern and a last open 
door.  This door had been solid, a wooden barrier shattered 
by some act of past violence.  They hesitantly stepped 
inside.

This time Liz could not fully stifle her scream.

The skeleton sat in the chair, leaning sideways with one 
bony arm touching the floor.  A revolver lay on the floor 
just beyond the fingers.  The remains of clothing hung on 
the form, torn in places.

The skull sat on the table facing the door, a bullet having 
shattered the smooth dome from the inside.

Katie was crying.  "What is this place?" she repeated.  
"What corner of hell have we fallen into?"

Simmone noticed a roll of papers on a small desk, tied with 
a red ribbon.  She set her lamp on the desk and picked them 
up, untying the ribbon with care.  She half expected the 

papers to dissolve into dust at her touch but they remained 
firm.  She unrolled the sheets and saw dark handwriting.  

"What did you find?"  Krista asked.  She set her lamp down 
by the door and examined the broken wood to see if it could 
be repaired enough to close.

"'I know these are my last hours,'" Simmone read from the 
paper.  ''My dream has turned into my worst nightmare.  All 
is lost.  May the Lord have mercy on us all.

"'I retired from my medical career with the dream of 
perfecting the use of animal organs for human transplants.  
So many die before donors are found.  If I could use what I 
found of my great-uncle's notes I could save many lives and 
remove the stigma that had been placed on our name because 
of his radical theories.

"'The islands seemed ideal.  We were able to tap the 
volcano on the one central island for power.  We found a 
small native population living in the caves who were 
friendly and could provide menial labor.  I brought my 
assistant Derek and a full medical crew, and thirty 
volunteers.  I knew no country would allow my radical 
research so I must perfect the techniques in secret until I 
was ready to present a miracle to my colleagues.

"'Everything went so well in the first year.  The 
volunteers responded well to the transplants and drug 
regiment.  There was no sign of rejection.  They had no 
unmanageable side effects.


"'The problem came from an unexpected source.  Some odd 
results made me do a detailed genetic analysis of one of 
the transplants and found something I did not expect.  The 
patient did not possess the organ I had believed I 
transplanted but one from a species not even on my list!  I 
tested all of the patients, even the controls who were not 
scheduled for any animal transplants; and found all 
possessed unexpected species.

"'It was not difficult to discover the culprit.  Justin had 
come highly recommended.  I suspect now that his 
credentials were forged although his surgical skills were 
beyond reproach.  Confronted with the evidence of his 
villainy, he admitted his crime.  A country that shall 
remain nameless since a diplomatic incident will solve 
nothing paid Justin handsomely to corrupt my research into 
an attempt to incorporate animal traits into the human 
genome to create highly specialized soldiers and 
mercenaries.  He had succeeded in not only placing the 
various species of his choice in the volunteers but had 
placed genetic material gathered from the fossil remains of 
a sabertooth in my assistant Derek.  I had Derek lock him 
in one of the resident cells and told the volunteers what 
had happened.  They took it well and voted to continue the 
research.

"'Justin was the key to our second and greater disaster.  
He jumped dear Jasmine when she took in his dinner and left 
her dying.  I feverishly worked to save her life, having to 
resort to radical techniques, while Derek and several 
volunteers hunted for him.  

"'Derek returned to report Justin was dead.  The two men 
had confronted each other in a clearing the natives avoided 
due to some old superstition.  They had fought and Derek 
was forced to kill him or be killed.  I bandaged Derek's 
wounds and gave orders that Justin's body be buried with a 
minimum of ceremony.

"'All of our native workers disappeared that night.  We 
were able to find them huddling in their caves, painting 
their odd symbols on the walls and gibbering about a Beast 
in the Mist.  I was finally able to get an explanation of 
sorts from their chief.

"'Before the white man came to these islands, a secret 
society existed within the native population, a society of 
cannibals who practiced dark rites.  When the first white 
man came, the secret society moved against them.  Many were 
killed on each side until finally the captain of one ship 
vowed to remove the curse for all time.  He hunted down the 
cannibals with a ruthlessness that matched their own 
savageness.  Cornered, the cannibals gathered to perform a 
special rite to call forth the Beast in the Mist, some 
mythical monster that would rid them of their enemy.  The 
captain and his crew were able to surprise the cannibals in 
the middle of their ceremony as they danced around a stone 
altar where a helpless human sacrifice waited for the final 
killing stroke.  The captain interrupted the ceremony 
before it could be completed, rounded up the cannibals and 
took them back to his ship for execution, and peace reigned 
on the islands.  But the remaining natives lived in fear 
that someone would 'feed the Beast' and waken it.  And 
Derek apparently killed Justin in the very clearing where 
the cannibals had danced around their heather altar, on the 
very altar itself. The natives were sure the ceremony was 
now finished and the Beast in the Mist would awaken.

"'I tried to reason, coerce, and finally threaten the 
natives back to work.  They would not move from their 
caves, jabbering that only there were they safe within 
their magic.  I left them in disgust, vowing I would 
return.

"'In the night they stole all of our powered ships, wrecked 
our radio, and departed the islands.  We had only their 
small outriggers left, unsuitable for travel into the ship 
lanes.  We could only hope someone would note our failure 
to pick up ordered supplies and investigate.  Unfortunately 
we had always kept our exact location secret because of the 
controversial nature of our research.

"'A week later I noticed changes in the volunteers.  Some 
became confused, forgetting things, even their own names.  
Others began developing odd deformities that eventually 
revealed themselves to be characteristics from the animal 
species they had been transplanted with.  Their natures 
changed.  Some grew violent.  Some grew frightened.  It 
became necessary to lock many in their chambers.

"'We thought one of them was escaping at night when we 
started finding the mutilated animals.  Monkeys and birds 
would be found torn to pieces.  A strange thick fog began 
to appear and disappear at unexpected times.  And some of 
the workers spoke of seeing red eyes gazing in the windows 
from the mist.  I would have thought it just imagination 
fueled by the natives' talk, but I was the only one who 
knew of their legend of the Beast in the Mist.

"'I had the docile volunteers, those who had exhibited no 
radical changes, moved to some of the other islands with 
caretakers.  The violent or extreme cases I kept here with 
me as I sought a cure and we retreated to the labs and 
chambers below for safety.

"'I remember well the day I was forced to lock Derek in a 
chamber.  He was still much as I remembered him, still 
careful in appearance and manners.  But when I apologized 
and called him by name he drew himself back and announced 
'I am Drakkon Fyre.  I know no Derek.'  I returned to my 
own chambers and drank myself into unconsciousness.

"'I could find no reason for the drastic changes in 
physiology some of the volunteers display.  Wings, claws, 
skeletal alterations.  There is no pattern as to who was 
struck with just amnesia and who developed changes 
according to the species of their transplant.  All, 
however, appear to gain a boon of youth.  I could almost 
stand outside their chambers and watch them change, grow 
younger, grow less human.  I fear that some might even be 
infectious in their changes for their blood shows a 
consistent high level of the hormones and natural drugs I 
used to encourage acceptance of the foreign tissue matter 
despite the fact I have ceased to administer them.  Should 
such blood be introduced into a host it may well infect him 
and force the same changes I have watched occur to many of 
my volunteers and to my trusted assistant Derek.

"'It has been weeks since any dared set foot out of the 
house above.  The fog presses in on every side.  I can 
still hear poor Jake's screams.  We tried to stop him but 
he cracked and tried to reach the beach and the outriggers 
there.  He never even made it to the trees.

"'We have never seen anything but the eyes.  Those blazing 
red eyes watching from the mist.

"'Last night the final disaster struck.  I heard the scream 
and grabbed my gun but it was too late.  Carelessness by a 
tired and terrified worker?  Materials just too weak to 
hold what the volunteers had become?  I don't know.  But 
they were loose.

"'It was chaos.  The Beast in the Mist waiting outside, and 
mad patients running berserk in the halls killing and 
tearing the bodies apart.  I know three of the thirty 
volunteers are dead.  So are the last three of my workers 
except for any who may yet be alive on the other islands.  
If the Beast has not killed them.

"'Someone demolished the lighting system so all is dark.  
It is Death to leave my chambers.  I have barricaded my 
door.  I can hear them even now sniffing at it and hear 
them test the sturdiness of the wood.  I fear to shoot 
through the door because it will weaken it.  And what is 
the point of such an action anyway?

"'I know I will not survive.  I have recorded these my last 
hours so that any who find these chambers know what has 
happened here and the dangers that lurk on these islands.  
Many of the volunteers are violent, succumbing to their 
animal natures.  They have developed bizarre changes and 
diets.  And there is always the Beast in the Mist.

"'Leave these islands as fast as you can.  Just please 
notify my family as to what has happened to me.  I have 
included the address of our family solicitor at the bottom.  
Thank you.

"'God bless,

"'Dr. Herbert G. Moreau."

Simmone looked up.  Katie was hugging a crying Liz.  Krista 
stood by the door, listening for any sound other than the 
steady drip of water in the distance.  Simmone carefully 
rolled the papers back up and tied them with the ribbon.  
She handed them to Katie and picked up the revolver.  "One 
shot fired.  Five bullets remaining.  It may still shoot or 
may blow up in our hand.  But we can at least use it to 
intimidate someone."

Something fell with an explosive shattering of the quiet.  
Metal rang on the stone floor.

A soft sound came from the darkness.

Katie slapped a hand over Liz's mouth before she could 
scream.

"We're not alone," Krista whispered, backing into the room.

"Here."  Simmone pushed the matchbook and various items 
into Krista's hands.  "Put out your lamp."  She set down 
the water and picked up her lamp.  "Stay here."

Krista grabbed her arm.  "What are you going to do?"

"Protect my children."  Simmone set the gun down long 
enough to gently move Krista's hand from her arm.  "Find 
Peter.  Find Gene.  KISS will protect you."  She picked up 
the gun and stepped out into the corridor.

Krista slowly edged back until she bumped into Katie and 
Liz.  They sat in the dark, watching the light dwindle with 
distance.

"HALT!"  Simmone ordered, her voice echoing in the vast 
chamber.

A gunshot sounded.

Another.

The light vanished.

The only sound was the eerily echoing drip of water 
somewhere in the darkness.