KISS in Paradise 21-F


With Peter 'occupied', Gene decided to shift some of the 
cargo around and make sure they and it would arrive safely 
at their destination.  He kept the barrels of fuel in one 
boat.  The crates were moved into another.  Calista and 
Aurora helped him while Samantha went back into the fog and 
made sure they had salvaged everything they could (and made 
sure there was no pursuit).  Samantha was able to return 
with two more crates and another precious barrel of fuel.  
The fuel would let them continue to run the larger 
motorized boats.  And Gene had the feeling these boats just 
might be the difference between winning and losing what 
looked like a battle for freedom and maybe even survival.

He was sure Dr. X was not going to ignore what had just 
happened.  They had succeeded in escaping.  They had 
damaged the ship and probably killed several of the crew.  
They had stolen valuable property.  

Dr. X was going to be out for revenge.

If Gene could have found a bucket he would have drenched a 
certain duo with seawater.  Not because he thought he might 
actually get them to stop and help.  He didn't really care 
that Peter and Darkraven were enjoying a passionate reunion 
while he and the other ladies labored.  Peter came far too 
close to dying on Dr. X's ship.  Let him enjoy himself.  
Gene would have his own reunion with Samantha once they 
reached the islands.  If Samantha and he tried it on the 
boat they would probably set it on fire and sink it.  But 
just the sheer giddy realization that they had escaped, 
that they were all alive and free, made him want to dance a 
silly jig and scream for joy.  And do something to Peter 
just because Peter was still alive and there to do 
something to.

The labeling on one crate was just too much for Gene to 
ignore.  Once they had everything safely aboard, he pried 
the crate open and stood smiling over a crate full of 
assorted Hostess snack foods.  Ah, snack foods.

Someone slammed the lid back down.  Samantha gave Gene a 
stern look.  "Four yellow sticks."

"We just nailed the bastards who have been making your 
lives hell," Gene said with a grin.  "You lovely ladies 
just rescued me and Peter from certain death.  I think that 
calls for a celebration."  He gently pushed Samantha aside, 
raised the lid, and grabbed a box at random.  "Chocolate 
cupcakes."

The pupils of Calista's eyes expanded and contracted.  
"Rounds," she whispered with a touch of awed greed.

Gene tore open the box and handed two to each woman.  
"Ours, ladies.  All ours."  Calista happily sat down and 
unwrapped her prizes.  Aurora faded away and appeared on 
the boat with the fuel, the alliance still too new for her 
to be comfortable with such wealth around the others. 

Samantha eyed her two.  "We should save them for trade.  We 
could buy assistance from the People, just as the Enforcers 
have bought it."

Gene shook his head.  "You don't buy loyalty.  You buy 
lackeys.  We don't want lackeys.  And once we tell your 
people what has been going on, how the Enforcers have been 
betraying you to the people on that ship, we won't need to 
buy lackeys."

"Not 'my people,'" Samantha said in disgust.  "The People 
stole from me.  Ridiculed me.  Tried to hurt me.  They are 
not 'my' people."

Gene smiled and gently said, "I'm willing to bet it's been 
the Enforcers behind everything.  They had to keep all of 
you suspicious and fighting among yourselves.  How better 
than to sneak in and steal stuff, framing another one of 
you?  Think about what you once thought of Darkraven and 
what you found out was true.  Look at how these two ladies 
came to your assistance.  I think the Enforcers have been 
keeping things stirred up.  But that won't be so easy to do 
with Minotaur and Kong dead."

Calista raised her head, dark crumbs dotting her lips.  
"Kong is dead?"

Gene nodded.  "We fed him to the sharks on the way to the 
ship.  And the sharks sure seemed to like their Minotaur 
tartare dinner."

Calista licked her fingers.  "Kong was not nice."

"I doubt any Enforcer was nice," Gene said.  "Bullies 
rarely are."  He offered his hand.  "I'm Gene Simmons."

Calista thought a moment, and then accepted the offered 
hand.  "Calista."

"Aurora Dawn," that individual said, appearing by the 
others.

"I am very pleased to meet you lovely ladies," Gene said 
with a wide smile.  

"You are a leader of the Strangers?"  Calista asked.

"I'm one of the owners of KISS," Gene admitted.  "And I'm 
in charge of one of the camps.  The castaways are my fault 
and my responsibility."

"Drakkon Fyre says all leaders of the strangers must meet 
him on the Northwest Island," Calista said.  "He says it is 
necessary for your survival."

"Who's Drakkon Fyre?"  Gene asked.

"A pain," Samantha answered.

Calista bristled.

"Is he connected in any way with the Enforcers?"  Gene 
asked, hoping to forestall a fight.

"Drakkon hates the Enforcers," Calista said, still glaring 
at Samantha.  "He wants to destroy every single one of 
them."

Gene smiled.  "Sounds like someone I could get along with.  
And since we both want to run the Enforcers off the 
islands, we need to work together.  Northwest Island."  He 
thought a moment.  "That's Eric Carr's.  Hopefully we can 
get there before everyone goes home.  We better get 
underway.  Do any of you know how to pilot a boat?"  He was 
not surprised to see three negatives.  "It'll slow us down 
if we tow boats, so here's what we'll do.  I'll start them 
and set the speed for you.  All you have to do is steer.  
When we get close to the islands, we'll cut the motors on 
two and let them drift in.  Samantha can ferry me from the 
island and I'll beach all three.  If we're lucky, Peter 
will wear out soon and pilot one.  If he doesn't curl up in 
a corner and catnap on us."

Samantha snorted.  "Those two.  He is like you, Gene 
Simmons.  Although he looks like he does not have your 
appetite for food.  Maybe all strangers are like you."

"Sweetheart, I'm one of a kind," Gene promised.

Gene piloted the boat carrying the fuel, not wanting any 
mishaps with the volatile cargo.  Samantha volunteered to 
fly through the fog and guide them back to the islands.  
Calista and Aurora listened carefully to Gene's 
instructions and then took over their crafts.

The tiny navy traveled through the fog without mishap, 
finally breaking into the glare of a tropical afternoon.  
Samantha disappeared into the distance, returning to warn 
them they needed to make a sharp turn or they would miss 
the islands completely.  They adjusted their course and 
headed home.

Samantha flew ahead to let the assembled leaders know their 
missing members were on their way.

*	*	*	*	*

"There are more than four of you."

Paul looked at the fanged man and felt a shiver go down his 
back.  This Drakkon Fyre was not someone he wanted to mess 
with.  "There were nine.  Peter Criss is alive but I'm not 
sure where he is.  Gene Simmons is missing and may be 
dead."

Drakkon looked at the people sitting around the clearing.  
They had been introduced to him as they landed on the 
island.  These were the ones named in the prophecy?  These 
would end the curses?

"Gene Simmons is looking very good," a voice said from 
overhead.

Paul looked up in surprise, as did everyone.

Samantha grinned.  She loved a showy entrance.  She landed 
in front of Drakkon, 'accidentally' raising a small dust 
cloud.  She made a show of looking around the clearing 
while ignoring the sneezing Drakkon.  "Which of you is Paul 
Stanley?"

"I am.  You mentioned Gene!"  Paul said hopefully.

"Gene will be here soon," Samantha promised.  "He is 
bringing three boats and many crates of goods.  Your friend 
Peter is with him and is looking well too.  Darkraven, 
Calista, and Aurora Dawn travel with them."

Drakkon dared to grab Samantha's shoulder in his 
excitement.  "Does Aurora have the box?"

"There are a lot of boxes on the boats," Samantha answered, 
shrugging off his hand.  "You'll have to ask Aurora if the 
box you want is there."  

"Where did Gene get three boats?"  Eric Carr asked, sitting 
with Tiger in the shade.

"From the ship," Samantha answered.  "Minotaur took Gene 
and Peter to his friends on the ship.  That was where we 
found them.  Minotaur was fighting Peter as a sport when we 
arrived, although it looked like Minotaur was not enjoying 
it very much since the only blood being spilt was his.  
Darkraven fought Minotaur and both went in the ocean.  
Peter brought Darkraven to the boat while the sharks 
finished Minotaur for us.  I flamed the barrels as Gene 
said and they exploded.  We killed many of those who were 
going to kill Gene and Peter.  They will think twice before 
they cross me again."

"Minotaur is dead?"  Drakkon asked.

"Minotaur and Kong are dead," Samantha confirmed.

Drakkon smiled.  "And that one killed Rhino."  He pointed 
at Vinnie.

Samantha looked at Vinnie.  "Any who kill an Enforcer is my 
ally.  No matter their faults."

Vinnie was glad the dragon lady was on his side.

"So there is a ship here?"  Paul asked.  "There's a ship 
within range of the islands?"

"The ship has always been here.  The Enforcers work for the 
people on the ship."

"A rival corporation," Drakkon snarled.  "Maybe the one 
that sabotaged our work.  They were probably here all the 
time.  Maybe they are the ones who killed Moreau."

Samantha was unconcerned.  The ship was far away and the 
people there now knew to leave her alone.  "I will go back 
and let Gene know you are waiting here for him."  She 
paused, thinking.  "Gene could use help with the boats," 
she said slowly.  "Is there any here brave enough to let me 
take you to him?"

"I'll go," Paul said immediately.  He desperately wanted to 
see Gene with his own eyes.

"Hey pretty dragon lady!"

Samantha turned.  "Ace!"  She met him halfway across the 
clearing, drawing him into a tight hug.  "So you are one of 
these leaders?"

Ace shrugged.  "I was one of the original four members of 
the band."

Drakkon's eyes lit.  "Four.  Green, blue, purple, and red."

"Those were our colors," Paul admitted.  "Green for Peter, 
blue for Ace, purple for me, and red for Gene."

"Then the prophecy will be fulfilled," Drakkon said, 
closing his eyes and throwing his head back, lips curled in 
a snarl of victory.  "Four strangers united by blood.  Four 
stones.  The forest temple.  And soon all the curses will 
end.  I will not fail you, Moreau.  I will make them pay 
for corrupting your dream.  Our children WILL be free."

Samantha snorted.  "Still the arrogant fool I see."

Drakkon lowered his head and opened his eyes.  "Shall I 
tell you what you were before you came to these islands?" 
he said softly in a voice that chilled all that heard it.  
"I know you.  I know you all.  I know what you were.  I 
know what you were meant to be.  And I know what treachery 
has made you.  This is not the world he meant to create.  
You were his pride and joy.  A dragon.  He was finally able 
to merge science and the occult and he created you.  He 
gave you fire and you do not even remember his name.  His 
name was Moreau.  Remember that.  His name was Moreau."

Samantha shrugged.  "His name was Moreau."  She gave Ace 
another hug.  "I will see you when we return."  She 
returned to Paul.  "We'll leave now."

"Warn the islands," Paul told the others.  "It's getting 
late so we'll probably be staying here overnight.  No one 
travels at night.  Guards around the camps.  It's not just 
these Enforcers.  We've got a mystery ship of some kind.  
Gene and Peter can probably tell us more.  Until then, 
every camp is to be on alert."

"But don't signal my island," Vinnie added.  "Angel will 
intercept the message.  This ship, it's got to be the 
'corporation' she was talking about.  They've probably sent 
a boat for her already."  

Samantha chuckled.  "We have their boats.  They will have 
to swim to reach her."

"Then we have some time," Vinnie said in relief.

*	*	*	*	*

Xavier gazed at the blackened deck.  Five dead.  Six 
injured.  All their small craft gone.  Minotaur dead.  And 
the islands doubtlessly warned of their presence.  What had 
started out in sweet triumph, with proof of Samantha's 
ability to infect others, was ending in bitter 
disappointment.

He had underestimated them.  He should have killed Peter 
Criss as soon as the tests came back.  Well, that was 
easily remedied.  He would not need to placate Minotaur 
anymore.  And that would make things a little easier, 
because Lobo always had been easier to deal with.  As soon 
as he was able to contact Lobo, he would tell the Enforcer 
to kill Criss.

Gene Simmons, Samantha, Darkraven, and Calista must be 
captured.  Simmons had a detailed analysis yet to go 
through; and if that examination gave the escapee a painful 
death so be it, that wasn't revenge it was just science.  
The Altereds were too valuable to kill, but what was needed 
was their DNA not their minds.  Keeping them in the lab 
would make some results suspect, but they could no longer 
afford the luxury of letting them stay free.  He would 
perform lobotomies on the women, and then their bodies 
could be safely kept on board for testing and 
experimentation.  It had been amusing to watch them in 
their island homes, but it was time to stop treating this 
like a game.

Hopefully Lobo could tell him something about the other 
woman, the one he just caught a glimpse of.  He had thought 
he knew all the inhabitants of the islands.  If there was 
one unknown there may be more.  But that one definitely 
needed to be identified, tested, and either disposed of or 
kept the same as the other three.  All potential serum 
sources had to be collected.  The rejects had to be 
eliminated.  And their final act must be to level the 
islands so they could be sure they left no evidence of what 
had once been here.

This was a business.  He could not let himself get 
sentimental over test subjects.  They had to justify their 
expenses.  It was time to get results.

He sighed and walked to the radio room.  It was time to 
call for help.

*	*	*	*	*

The Beast writhed in ecstasy.  It had feasted well.  Blood 
had flowed, flesh was torn, and terror was created.  It had 
not gorged itself so well since madness was unleashed in 
Moreau's laboratory.

Fools.  Only a few even believed it existed.  None knew 
what it was.  And now it was safe!  The box was gone!  The 
stones would never more see the light of day.  The ceremony 
would not be completed.  It could never be banished.

It felt the mist forming in a quiet valley.  It spread its 
senses through the enveloping whiteness, examining the part 
of reality that was now accessible from its home.  No 
higher life.  But it was not hungry anyway.  It was bored.

It touched a small monkey, slipping into the body.  The 
monkey's eyes blazed red.  The Beast flooded its mind with 
rage.  The monkey screamed and ran through the jungle.  A 
small scurrying form caught its eye.  It grabbed the lizard 
and tore it apart, throwing the quivering pieces around the 
jungle and then stomping on them until they were just 
smudges in the earth.

The Beast knew all things within the mist.  It nudged the 
monkey and the animal raced along the path, leaving the 
trees and darting through stone boulders.  The monkey 
suddenly stopped.  Its eyes returned to normal.

The wild dog never noticed when the Beast took it over.  It 
only knew some small creature was before it.  It only knew 
the rage.  It leaped forward and began tearing the small 
monkey into quivering pieces.

The Beast writhed with pleasure.  Blood.  Flesh.  Terror.  
And soon the islands would be a battlefield, with the 
corporation fighting the Altered and castaways.  And every 
death would give it strength.  The amount of death from 
this conflict would be enough to give it the strength to 
reach beyond these islands at last.  Enough strength to 
reach the main continents, and the masses of life there.  
Life just waiting for the mist to curl over it and open the 
doorway.  Blood.  Flesh.  Terror.

Soon.  Soon it would have the world.

*	*	*	*	*

The light shone into the small chamber.  Several boxes were 
tossed into the corner.  A weary form dropped onto the pile 
of torn clothing that was a bed.  The light went out.

Nicodemus sighed.  It was hard work, finding Piglet's 
stashes and moving them to his own.  But with the chief 
dead and the coming troubles, he would need them.  He would 
need all of the goodies Piglet had hidden away if he was to 
bring the People together.  Some could be reasoned with.  
Some must be threatened.  Some would be bought.  It had 
always been so, even before the doctor came to the islands.

Nicodemus closed his eyes and tried to remember.  The truth 
came in his dreams, as it always had.  He was the shaman of 
the villages, the one to tell them right and wrong.  There 
had been no wrong in the doctor and his assistant.  There 
had been no wrong in any of them.  But there had been 
weakness, a weakness that could be used to break a sacred 
trust, a weakness he had failed to see until too late.

He reached for his face and felt the stiff whiskers 
protruding from his muzzle.  It must have amused the Beast 
in the Mist to manipulate Justin into cursing him with this 
form.  A scurrying cringing rat.  And to use his own herbs 
to remove his memories, and remove any dangerous memories 
from the others; oh, that had been the final indignity.

But the Beast could not steal his dreams.  And in his 
dreams he was still the shaman of his people.  In his 
dreams he knew what was, is, and will be.  He knew the 
prophecy.

Nicodemus reached inside his nest of rags and drew out a 
battered toolbox.  Scratches in its surface formed symbols 
that had decorated another, older box.  He did not need the 
light, his fingers remembering well how to open it.  Green, 
blue, purple, red.  He raised the lid and a soft light 
filled the chamber.

The Beast thought it was safe from the prophecy.  Even with 
the four strangers on the islands, it was sure the stones 
were forever lost.  It would now get careless.  It would 
cease to guard the sacred places.  Nicodemus could return 
and find the last few pieces needed.

And once he did, the sacred trust would end, because the 
Beast in the Mist and all curses would be forever cleansed 
from existence.