“Masterson!”
“Yeah, what is it?”
“This is Dr. Perry talking.”
“What’s on your mind, Dr. Perry?”
“I’ve been talking to the boy. Spencer. I’ve been talking to him.”
“Is that what all the shooting was about, Dr. Perry?”
“The shooting was the boy’s idea. I’ve talked him out of it. He thinks the way I do now.”
“And just how do you think?”
“I’ve decided to accept your proposition. Gardel and I will join you if you give us Denise in return.”
He moved forward more quickly now. The land still probed at him with a hundred razor-sharp fingers, but he was out of Masterson’s line of vision and he could proceed without caution. Slowly he got to his feet and began running in a wide arc, circling around the boulders, heading for the side of the cliff. He smiled as he heard Dr. Perry speaking. Filibuster. Good old American filibuster. A filibuster in the Age of Reptiles. The thought amused him, but he was not forgetting the task that lay ahead of him.
“I’ll send Gardel over first.”
“I’m listening.”
“When Gardel gets there, Masterson, you’ll send Denise to us. Then I’ll come over to you.”
“That’s rather shrewd, Dr. Perry, but I don’t like it.”
“Why not?”
“What’s to prevent you from getting Denise and then not coming over to me yourself?”
“The thought hadn’t even entered my mind.”
“I’ll bet it hadn’t, Dr. Perry. Do you take me for a fool?”
“I give you my word of honor. As soon as Denise is safely here, I shall start across to you.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t like the arrangement.”
“Don’t you trust me, Masterson?”
“I do not trust anyone, Doctor.”
“Well, what’s your suggestion, then?”
The ground swelled upward to become a ring of boulders that ran around the side of the cliff. Chuck studied the boulders for a moment, pausing to catch his breath. And then he started to climb. Mounting the boulders was not too difficult, and he accomplished it with ease. Now only the cliff lay above him. Fifty feet up its side was a narrow ledge from which he could get a clear shot at Masterson if the situation was pressed that far. He hoped it wouldn’t be. The .45 was heavy on his waist as he reached for his first foothold on the sloping side of the cliff.
“Hello, Masterson?”
“I’m still here.”
“Do you have any suggestions?”
“I’m thinking.”
“Suppose you send Denise over first? Then when she’s here, Gardel and I can come over together.”
“Do you take me for an idiot?”
“Why? The idea sounds reasonable, Masterson.”
“To you, perhaps. But you’re four men there, and Gardel is only one. How do I know you won’t jump him as soon as the girl is in your camp?”
“We wouldn’t do that, Masterson.”
“How do I know you won’t?”
“You’ll just have to take my word for it.”
“In fact, Doctor, how do I know that Gardel isn’t bound and gagged right this minute? How do I know this isn’t just a trick to get the girl back to you?”
“That would be foolish, Masterson. You’d still have Dr. Dumar with you. You’d still have one hostage.”
“Let me see Gardel. Have him step out from behind the rock!”
He was almost to the ledge. His heart gave a vicious leap when he heard Masterson’s last request. He hadn’t counted on that. He hadn’t even considered it when forming his plan. He kept climbing, reaching for shrubs that jutted from the rocky side, tearing at the slope with grasping fingers. Ten feet. Ten more feet. Seven feet. He could see the rock far below him, with Arthur and Pete sprawled behind it. Dr. Ferry yanked Gardel to his feet and pulled the gaunt man with him out into the open. Arthur’s rifle swung around slowly, pointed at the back of Gardel’s head. Five more feet.
“Here he is, Masterson.”
“Hello, Brock!”
“H-h-hello, Dirk.”
“What do you think, Brock? Shall I trust them? How does their plan sound to you?”
“I... I don’t know, Dirk.”
“You sound kind of nervous. What’s the matter? Is anything wrong, Brock?”
Another foot. One more foot. His hands reached out for the flatness of the ledge. He got a good grip on the surface and then slowly swung his legs onto it. He could see Masterson behind the protection of his boulder now, far below. The big man had a rifle, and it was pointed across the clearing at Dr. Ferry and Gardel. Slowly, cautiously, he unholstered the .45 at his waist, checked the clip and released the safety. He looked down again, saw Denise and Dr. Dumar huddled on Masterson’s right. From the other side of the cliff, beyond his own vision and beyond Masterson’s, he heard a curious sound. A scraping sound or the sound of something treading on loose rocks. He was just turning his head to locate the source of the sound when Gardel pulled his arm away from Dr. Perry. He started to run across the clearing, and his mouth was open in a hoarse warning.
“Look out, Dirk! The boy! With a gun!
Chapter 17
King of the Beasts
It all happened very suddenly and yet it seemed to take ages. From his perch on the ledge, Chuck viewed the entire scene stretched out below him. He had the vague impression that he was sitting in the balcony and watching a play on an immense stage. Gardel’s shout served as a signal, and everything followed from it — like the opening gun in a horse race or the bell in a prize fight. Gardel shouted and ripped away from Dr. Perry, starting across the clearing toward the boulders.
But Gardel hadn’t pointed and he hadn’t looked up. He’d done nothing to indicate where Chuck was, and Masterson had no way of knowing.
Masterson reacted the way any man in his position would have. The situation had been a tense one up to then, and his finger was probably curled nervously around the trigger of his rifle. When Gardel shouted, he pulled the trigger all the way.
He didn’t aim. He fired blindly across the clearing and he continued to fire.
Gardel screamed and threw his head back, clutching at the steel-jacketed slugs that were ripping into his chest.
“Brock!” Masterson shouted. He stopped shooting. The ragged edges of his voice seeped into the land. The smoke from his rifle rose in a mournful black cloud that hung over his head like a specter of doom and then vanished.
“Brock!” he called again.
Gardel dropped to his knees, his fingers threaded with the red strands of blood that spilled from his torn chest.
He staggered forward, moving on his knees, leaving a trail of blood behind him.
“Dirk... Dirk—” His voice was a dry whisper, the voice of a man a hundred million years from all other men, the dry voice of a man who was dying in a strange time, in a strange land. There was fright in the voice and a pathetic disbelief. He could not understand why Masterson had shot him, and worse, he could not understand why he should be dying at this time.
He pitched forward on his face, rolled over onto his back and spread his arms.