Killypso Island by J. Kent Holloway

Author:J. Kent Holloway [Holloway, J. Kent]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Quoth Publications
Published: 2019-04-15T16:00:00+00:00

13

I wake to the sound of a small motor boat puttering in our direction. I jump from my bedding and turn toward the subterranean river, but I can’t see a blasted thing through the black void beyond the fire’s light. Realizing I’m a sitting duck, I scoop up Malik’s sleeping form and dash over into the darkness. The boy is startled awake and opens his mouth to shout, but I manage to clamp a hand over his face to silence him.

“Shhhhh,” I hiss. “Someone’s coming.”

Malik struggles in my arms, mumbling something under the palm of my hand, but I don’t let up the pressure. Last thing I need is for him to give our position away.

The motorboat—it sounds like a small trolling engine, if I’m not mistaken—putters up to the shore. The engine shuts down, and I hear the little boat’s wake slapping against the stone shore, before a pair of feet splash into the water.

Crouching down, with the boy resting on my knees, I pull my gun with my free hand and take aim.

“Mmmbbmmmbbbbbmmm,” Malik growls into my hand.

“Would you be quiet?” I whisper.

That’s when I realize I’ve left Moe in camp. He’s sitting up on my bedroll, looking around the cavern in a sleepy state of confusion. I want desperately to coax him over to us, but I can’t do that without letting the newcomers know we’re here.

The monkey picks something from his fur and stuffs it in his mouth, then turns his head toward the water and sniffs. Before I can do anything about it, he bolts off in the direction of the boat with a series of ecstatic whoops.

Stupid monkey’s never met a stranger, and it’s his unwavering trust that’s going to be the death of him one of these days.

I hold my breath, keeping my gun trained at the darkness ahead and my finger firmly on the trigger. I wasn’t lying to Inspector Decroux. I’m a terrible shot. But what I’ve lost in depth perception, a good supply of bullets can easily make up for. And this Colt .45 holds at least seven rounds. Plenty for my needs, as long as there aren’t too many people to deal with.

Then, she steps into the firelight.

Moe’s tail is wrapped around her delicate and supple porcelain neck. Golden blonde hair is tied in a pony tail behind her head. She’s wearing a pair of riding jodhpurs, knee-high leather riding boots, and a man’s button-up shirt. An M1 army rifle hangs off her shoulder by a strap. And her coy, closed-mouth smile almost melts my feet to the floor of the cave, as she moves clearly into view.

“You can come out now,” Trixie says, with a mocking trace of humor in her voice. “It’s just little ol’ me, big boy.”

I exhale, and every muscle in my body relaxes.

“Trixie?”

Malik pats my arm, reminding me that I’ve still got him gagged with my hand. I release him and he turns to me. “I was tryin’ to tell you. Trixie told me she’d by coming to see us, by way of da river.

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