"You see, there is much more than superstition up there."
"Then we'll only go a short distance up and hide until after dark," Carter said, and he struck out once again to the north, roughly parallel to the curve of the volcano, Gabrielle right behind him, and the natives farther back… but not much farther.
Ten minutes later they came around a wide outcropping of rock and a dozen yards or so below them Carter spotted a trail through a narrow opening in the undergrowth.
The natives were very close behind them, and Carter figured they would come into sight at any moment.
"Down there," he said, grabbing Gabrielle's arm and propelling her down the hill and into the underbrush.
Twice she nearly stumbled and fell, but each time Carter held her up and she regained her footing on the rocky ground.
"What is it?" she cried.
"A path," Carter said as they pushed the rest of the way through the thick growth, finally coming out onto a wide, apparently often used trail through the jungle. From here it appeared as if the trail more or less paralleled their own path from the downed helicopter just below the first foothills leading up to the volcano.
The place he and Tieggs had chanced upon the other night would be just a short distance farther north, he figured.
"Are you all right, Gabrielle?" he asked. "Can you make it just a little farther?"
She nodded. "But we had better do it quickly, Nick. They will be on us any second."
"This way," he said, and he headed north in a long-legged stride that Gabrielle could barely keep up with.
Within a quarter of a mile the trail turned sharply downhill to the east but then immediately opened into a fairly wide natural amphitheater of grass that was ringed on three sides by huge, overhanging trees. From the air there would be little to see down here, Carter realized. It was perfect for a concealed meeting.
At the far end of the depression, which was set into the side of the hill, was a strange grouping of large boulders, one of which was unnaturally flat, much like an altar stone used for sacrifices in some ancient cultures.
Carter and Gabrielle hurried around the rim of the bowl to the flat boulder, but a few yards from it, Gabrielle stopped short, her right hand going to her mouth as she stifled a cry.
The flat boulder was splattered and stained with blood. Carter stepped up to it. The stench this close was almost overpowering. Even the trampled, hard-packed earth at the base of the stone was stained with blood, and insects worked at bits of rotting tissue.
It was definitely a sacrificial altar. And Carter suspected, from the stone's general shape, that ordinary animals were not the victims. This place was for human sacrifice.
The natives were very close now. Probably on the path. They were howling and whistling and hooting as if on a hunting drive, beating the bush for animals that would be driven toward waiting marksmen.
Which is exactly what was going to happen. Carter suddenly realized as several dozen natives, who had been hiding along the rim of the depression, popped up, bows drawn.
"Down!" Carter shouted as he spun around and raced the few steps to Gabrielle.
He pushed her out of the way as a dozen arrows thudded into the ground where she had been standing.
Other arrows barely missed them as they ducked behind the altar stone.
Gabrielle was terrified, and she was shaking and retching as they crouched in the horrible odors of death and decay.
The arrows had stopped flying, at least for the moment, but a high-pitched crying began that echoed eerily throughout the amphitheater.
Carter peered out around the edge of the stone. Other natives had joined the first, and he estimated that now there were at least a hundred of them, all armed with bows and arrows. They ringed the depression on three sides.
But not on the fourth, Carter noticed as he ducked back and looked up into the rocks behind the altar.
He almost missed the chance reflection of sunlight off something very shiny. But then his eyes came back to it. High in the rocks was a piece of metal or glass. Something fairly large but partially camouflaged. Something definitely man-made, but not by these natives.
He searched the jumble of rocks to the left and right as well, and he spotted two more round, intensely shiny objects. They were like flat pieces of glass or plastic embedded in the stone.
Definitely not natural. And definitely not a product of the skills of these islanders.
The crying became louder and then changed into some sort of a rhythmic chant.
Carter peered out around the stone in time to see the natives slowly coming down the hill, down toward the altar as they chanted.
"It is their death march for criminals," Gabrielle said at his side.
"No appeals?" Carter asked, again studying the rocks at the back of the amphitheater.
"We are here, so we are guilty as far as they are concerned. This is hallowed ground."
Carter picked out at least two possible paths up through the rocks to the rim seventy or eighty feet above them. Beyond the rim were the hills that led even farther up onto the slopes of the volcano. They would be exposed only for the first few yards, and then they would be behind the larger boulders.
"I want you to say something to them," Carter said.
"What?" Gabrielle asked, confused. "We're going to surrender? They might not kill us at first. I could talk to them. They might listen."
"Tell them that if they do not surrender to us, we will call upon our gods to strike them down."
"I do not understand, Nick."
"Just do it," Carter said. "Loudly so that they can hear you."
She was very confused. But she peered over the top of the stone at the advancing natives still chanting the death march. She glanced back at Carter, who nodded for her to go ahead.
Gabrielle turned back and shouted something, and the chanting stopped. She shouted something else as Carter pulled Pierre, the tiny gas bomb, from his crotch.
She finished speaking, and the chanting resumed even louder than before.
"It did not do any good, Nick. They are still coming."
"Warn them once more." Carter said.
Doubtfully she shouted out the warning again; this time the chanting did not stop.
Carter armed the tiny gas bomb, and without getting up he lobbed it well over the altar toward the advancing natives.
The gas bomb made no noise, and the gas was colorless and odorless. It worked on the central nervous system and was very fast and extremely effective.
A silence suddenly fell over the amphitheater. Gabrielle let out a little gasp, and Carter peered around the edge of the altar stone. A half-dozen natives lay on the ground. They were dead from the effects of the gas. The others had fallen back and were looking with awe from their fallen comrades to the altar stone.
Carter ducked back, pulling Gabrielle with him. He pointed up toward the rocks. "Do you think you can make it up there?"
"What did you do, Nick?"
"There's no time for explanations now," Carter snapped. "Can you climb?"
She looked doubtfully up at the rocks, but she nodded. "I think so," she said.
"Good. Then go, now. I'll be right after you."
"I… I…" she stammered.
"Now, Gabrielle, before it's too late," Carter said.
She kissed him on the cheek, then scrambled from the altar, jumped up on the rocks, and began climbing. Carter had taken out his Luger. He turned back and peered around the side of the altar as a cry went up.
Several natives brought up their bows.
Carter fired three shots, each hitting one of the islanders. The others fell back. Carter turned and scrambled up to where Gabrielle had gone, then he fired two more shots over the natives and leaped up on the rocks.
Several arrows clattered on the boulders below him a second or two later, but he was within the protection of the large rocks now.