Horror Island: A Rex Havoc Novel Page 3

  “Who him?” demanded the lizard guard in a guttural voice. Montgomery handed him an official-looking document.

  “This is Rex,” said Montgomery. “We brought him in from the mainland. He’s our new hunchback.”

  Rex shot a look at the doctor.

  “But him don’t got no hump,” said Bongo, confused.

  Montgomery grinned and patted Rex on the cheek.

  “No, but you have to admit he’s pretty goddamn ugly.”

  Bongo looked at Rex and chortled with delight.

  “Yeah, him pretty ugly, sure is. Go ahead.”

  The monster guard waved them past.

  Montgomery and Thomp escorted Rex to the fortress and directed him to his quarters, which amounted to little more than a stone bunker with a barred window. Rex looked at the bed and saw an outfit had been laid out for him, which included a ragged tunic, a rope belt, tights and elf shoes.

  “Get cleaned up and I’ll take you to meet the others,” said Montgomery. “There’s a uniform on the bed for you.”

  Rex looked at the clothing and made a face.

  “Uniform? That’s a Quasimodo outfit.”

  “It’s standard hunchback attire. The lads will be disappointed if you don’t wear it,” said Montgomery.

  Rex picked up the tunic and scowled.

  “Sure would hate to disappoint the lads.”

  Montgomery and Thomp walked out the door, leaving Rex to settle in.

  Grudgingly, Rex put on the tunic and examined himself in the mirror. He looked like a refugee from a Renaissance Faire. Then he noticed that damn collar around his neck. He had almost grown accustomed to the thing, and that pissed him off.

  He grasped the collar in both hands and started to pull and twist on it, and as he did the voltage increased. But he didn’t give up, and kept pulling and bending on the collar. The collar turned from glowing green to orange to bright red—the voltage escalating dramatically by the second—until Rex’s hair caught fire and he passed out.

  Fifteen minutes later, Rex heard the door unlock and he sat up on the floor. He smelled something burning, and feeling his head he realized much of his hair had been fried off.

  Montgomery walked into the room and wearily shook his head.

  “Tried to take that collar off again, didn’t you?”

  Rex gave him a sheepish smile.

  Montgomery laughed and helped him to his feet.

  “This way, Rex. They’re waiting for you.”

  Meanwhile, in the woods outside the fortress walls, an old man wearing only a hospital smock was running for his life. He had a scruffy mane of red hair and wore a broken pair of cartoonishly thick glasses that made it difficult for him to navigate through the dense foliage. Around his head he wore a gauze bandage, which had become bloodied as the wound on his forehead reopened.

  The old man was exhausted and hid behind a kapok tree to catch his breath. The collar around his neck flashed a rapid pattern of lights, and he knew it was relaying his coordinates to his pursuers.

  He was a damn fool for trying this stunt. Escape from the island was clearly impossible. Montgomery had pleaded with him not to run. Why the hell didn’t he listen to him?

  A shrill whistle pierced the forest, and he knew the Countess was calling her hunter beasts. The shrieks and growls of the monsters were very close, and the old man prepared for the inevitable confrontation.

  He had one trick left that might save him—his power of hypnosis. It had allowed him to subdue the hospital staff and escape, but he had no idea if his powers would work on the demonic creatures that now hunted him.

  His pursuers moved rapidly through the trees. There were two hunter beasts with the Countess, both of them huge boar-like creatures—one with a hide made of metal blades with bayonets for claws, and the other a living flamethrower. There was also something flying overhead, but he couldn’t make out what it was.

  “Dr. Cagliostro!” shouted Countess Czarina as her two monsters salivated at her heel. She was tall with silky black hair, a hunting vest, calf-high leather boots and jodhpurs. Holding a high-velocity crossbow, she pulled an arrow from her quiver.

  “Doctor, this is a wasted effort,” the Countess called out. “The woods are very dangerous. You cannot escape. You’ll get yourself killed out here!”

  The old man stayed quiet, knowing he would be killed the moment he revealed himself. He held a hand over his mouth, trying to control his panicked breathing before he betrayed his location.

  The Countess called out again.

  “Come back to work and we’ll forget this whole unfortunate matter.”

  Her monsters began to move again, coming his way, and he ran for it. He was trying to make it to the swamp, where he might lose them in the fog.

  An arrow plunged through his thigh and he stumbled. He got up and forced himself to keep running, knowing if he stopped they would have him.

  Cagliostro could see the marsh fog in the distance when he felt something sting the back of his neck. He looked above him and saw a third hunter beast, a flying scorpion, circling overhead, and he realized he had just been stung with its paralytic venom.

  The old man collapsed next to a tree stump, the venom instantly immobilizing him. Then another arrow pierced his chest and pinned him to the stump.

  Although he could not move, his head was tilted at such an angle that he could see the two monsters skulking up on him, one of them clacking its bayonet-like claws, and fiery napalm slavering from the jaws of the other.

  Cagliostro’s thoughts became addled; his vision grew cloudy. With his last ounce of strength, he opened his eyes wide, staring intensely at the approaching monsters.

  “Look into my eyes,” he tried desperately to say, but these words never actually passed his lips. His jaw had frozen shut and he was incapable of speaking another word.

  Cagliostro was still conscious as the monsters roasted him alive and tore him to pieces. The Countess approached the grisly scene but made no effort to restrain the creatures.

  “Be gentle with the head, boys. That’s mine,” said the Countess.

  Chapter 5

  The Hive

  Inside the fortress, Rex was escorted to a glass elevator by Montgomery and Thomp. They descended five floors to a sub-basement, where Rex beheld a spectacular laboratory the size of a small stadium, outfitted with equipment so advanced it looked like it had been built by a great alien race, the Krell possibly.

  The laboratory was divided into large cubicles, where a platoon of scientists in white lab coats busied themselves at their work stations, each of them tending to their own unique and outlandish experiments.

  Rex had a bird’s eye view of all the activity from a catwalk that extended above the giant lab. Montgomery gestured to the laboratory floor with a flourish.

  “Welcome to The Hive,” said Montgomery. “Some of the most notorious scientists in the world have been gathered here. You may have heard of some of them…”

  He pointed to a man inspecting a huge glass tank, where countless human organs floated like a tropical fish in a bubbling solution.

  “There’s one of the Frankensteins… Henry, Ludwig, or maybe Victor—who the hell can keep track of them all?”

  Montgomery pointed to another scientist, a tall, thin man who was examining what looked like a tiny ballerina dancing inside a Mason jar.

  “And there’s Dr. Pretorius,” Montgomery continued. “He’s got a thing for creating miniature ballerinas. Kinda creepy, if you ask me.”

  “A whole lot of creepy,” Rex agreed.

  Montgomery indicated another area of the laboratory.

  “The chubby fellow in the white suit and the pith helmet is Dr. Moreau. He’s had some success in the past creating human-animal hybrids. Lately he’s been mixing human genes with delicious fruits and vegetables. He calls them ‘Moots’ and ‘Manables.’”

  Montgomery continued down the catwalk as Rex and Thomp followed.

  “The fellow pouring smoking c
hemicals together in the next cubicle is Dr. Jekyll. Kind of a pompous asshole, if you ask me, but his friend is a total party monster.”

  Rex came to a dead stop.

  “Wait a minute. These are all mad scientists. You didn’t tell me this island was filled with mad scientists!”

  “Well, if you have to put a label on it…”

  Rex became agitated and started to hyperventilate.

  “No way, Doc. Saving mad scientists ain’t my line of work.”

  Montgomery took a quick look around and saw no one within earshot.

  “Easy, my friend,” he whispered to Rex. “Remember, these are just worker ants. The real villain here is the man who created this horrific laboratory, Count Kalashnikov. Destroy him and all of this goes away.”

  After taking a couple deep breaths, Rex regained his composure.

  “Okay, okay. I’ll keep it together.”

  At the end of the catwalk, Rex and Montgomery walked down a weirdly twisted staircase, followed with considerable effort by Thomp. As they reached the laboratory floor, a heated argument among the scientists was already in progress.

  Two of the scientists were screaming at each other, and one threw a flask of sulfuric acid at the other. The intended victim ducked and the flask smashed against the wall, causing the brick wall behind him to foam and sizzle.

  “Fuck you, Frankenstein! You fried our hunchback,” shrieked the scientist who threw the acid.

  “Fuck you twice as hard, Rossum!” shouted back Dr. Frankenstein, possibly Victor or Ludwig. “A Roomba is smarter than your stupid robots!”

  Dr. Montgomery strode right into the fracas, pulling Rex along with him.

  “Gentlemen… behave yourselves. I want to introduce you to your new assistant, Rex.”

  All of the scientists on the floor turned to see Rex. Some of them gathered for a closer inspection.

  “Dibs!” said Dr. Laszlo, a short, bald man with dark glasses, who needed a special apparatus on his neck to keep his head attached to his body. He waved his metallic hands furiously to be seen above the crowd.

  “No dibs,” said Montgomery. “You’ll all have to share him.”

  “But he has no hump,” said one of the Frankensteins, maybe Ludwig. “What good is an assistant without a hump?”

  Montgomery thumped Rex’s head like a melon. Rex frowned at him, looking very annoyed.

  “He’s got a steel plate in his head,” said Montgomery with a grin. “How about that?”

  “Oh, that’s a nice touch. A hump would still be better,” said one of the Frankensteins, likely Henry.

  “Give him to me,” said Dr. Laszlo with a tortured gurgle. “I’ll give him a glorious hump.”

  “Gentlemen, please. There will be absolutely no experimenting on Rex. He can assist you, but you cannot make him tall or small or operate on him at all.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Seuss,” said Rossum, getting a good laugh from the other scientists.

  Rex bristled at the crowd of scientists milling around him and clenched his fists.

  “I’ve got an even better idea,” said Rex. “How about I don’t work for any of you assholes and just bash your brains in?”

  A breathless gasp rose from the gaggle of scientists. They clucked nervously at each other, like chickens watching a fox prowling outside the henhouse.

  “If there’s anything worse than monsters,” Rex continued, “it’s scientists who create monsters.”

  He rolled up his sleeves, preparing to dole out roundhouse punches, beginning with the scientist nearest to him, one of the Frankensteins, almost certainly Victor.

  Montgomery grew very worried as he watched this, and reached into his pocket for the control device to Rex’s collar. He was about to press it when—

  The loud crack of a bullwhip interrupted the tense scene. Everyone in the laboratory turned to see Countess Czarina standing at the top of the twisted staircase, holding a whip in one hand and carrying a bloody canvas bag in the other.

  “Enough!” she shouted, and walked down the steps to the laboratory floor. She handed the bloody bag to one of the monstrous goons following her and approached the scientists, speaking to them like an outraged school mistress.

  “You men are here to help my father, not to quibble among yourselves. Have you forgotten the Law?”

  The scientists shuddered with fear and bowed their heads submissively.

  “No, Countess,” they replied in unison.

  Czarina took a step forward and cracked the whip again.

  “Tell me, then,” she commanded. “What is the Law?”

  “Do your work!” every scientist responded in chorus.

  “What is the Law?” Czarina said again, more strenuously now.

  “Get results!” was their obedient answer.

  “What is the Law?” she repeated, her eyes steely and cruel.

  “Quit fucking complaining!” replied the scientists in a single tremulous voice.

  “That’s right. Quit fucking complaining,” she said.

  Czarina walked across the room, eyeing the men, who all avoided her gaze as she slowly coiled her whip.

  “And what happens to those who break the law?” said the Countess.

  A few of the men gulped. Some had trouble mouthing the words.

  “They Dance with the Devil,” those who could still speak responded with quavering voices.

  “That’s right,” said Czarina. “And does anyone here wish to Dance with the Devil?”

  “No, Countess,” responded the frightened scientists.

  Satisfied that order was again restored, the woman lowered her whip.

  “All right, then. Back to work,” she told the men. “From now on, all I want to see is assholes and elbows.”

  Just then, a creature made entirely of assholes and elbows rolled up to her and greeted the woman with a happy farting sound. Czarina snarled at it.

  “No, I didn’t mean you. Get away, you disgusting freak.”

  The creature made a disappointed farting noise and sadly rolled away.

  Czarina caught sight of Rex and walked over to him. She placed her coiled whip under his chin and lifted his head.

  “Who is this man?” she demanded.

  “His name is Rex,” said Montgomery. “We brought him from the mainland to replace the hunchback Dr. Frankenstein killed.”

  “I didn’t kill him! He was struck by lightning!” protested Frankenstein, probably Henry, from the background.

  Dr. Rossum shouted back. “Sure, after you sent him up to the roof to fly kites in a thunderstorm!”

  “Yeah, Frankenstein! Why don’t you bring him back to life, you grave robber?” added Laszlo, who was trying to shake loose a Bunsen burner that had become magnetized to his metal hand.

  Frankenstein, almost certainly Victor, snapped back. “I would, smart guy, but in case you haven’t noticed, I don’t have a hunchback to help me.”

  There was another crack of the whip.

  “Silence!” Czarina demanded, and the room abruptly fell quiet. The Countess turned to Montgomery.

  “Dr. Montgomery, keep your hunchback in line. He looks like trouble to me.”

  “You may rely on it, Countess,” said Montgomery, with just the right tone of fear and groveling.

  Czarina snatched the bloody canvas bag away from her goon and addressed the other scientists.

  “As for the rest of you, get back to work! You have a pitch in a few days and it had better be good. Otherwise, you’ll be joining Dr. Cagliostro on my trophy wall.”

  She lifted the bloody bag over her head, shocking everyone in the room. They knew at once the bag contained the severed head of their absent colleague, who had been in the hospital the past few days from an apparent self-inflicted head wound. But nobody dreamed Cagliostro would try to make a run for it.

  “Cagliostro. Oh no…” several of the men muttered in horror.

  Czarina slung the bag over her shoulder and walked out of the laboratory, followed by her hel
lish goons.

  Rex turned to Montgomery, who looked seriously shaken.

  “Who the hell was that?”

  “That was the Count’s daughter—Czarina Kalashnikov. She runs this entire operation for her father. Stay well away from her. She is the most dangerous monster on the island.”

  “What did she mean, ‘Dance with the Devil?’”

  “It’s a game she enjoys. And we’ll get to play it if we don’t get back to work.”

  Montgomery indicated the numerous cameras installed in the laboratory ceiling, excessive even by Las Vegas casino standards.

  “Okay, I’ll play along,” said Rex. “What do you need me to do?”

  “Why don’t you give Dr. Goldfarb a hand? He’s been having a lot of trouble lately.” He pointed to an elderly man across the room.

  Rex turned to see a frail but oddly familiar man who was fixing the arm of a robot that looked eerily like Diana Rigg in her Avengers catsuit.

  “Hey, I remember him,” said Rex. “He was a master criminal back in the sixties. Robbed a series of banks using invisible killer girl robots in exploding bikinis, as I recall. That’s him, huh?”

  Montgomery nodded.

  “Yeah, that’s Goldfarb. It’s sad, really. Once upon a time he was the very definition of a mad scientist, but I’m afraid his best days are behind him. If he doesn’t get some results soon, he’s going to be in big trouble.”

  Rex walked over to introduce himself to the legendary mad scientist, who was presently rummaging through papers on his desk, apparently looking for something. Rex realized the man was looking for his glasses and handed them to him.

  “Oh, bless you,” said Dr. Goldfarb, giving Rex a wide grin as he put on his glasses.

  Rex returned the smile and regarded the robot with sincere admiration.

  “Diana Rigg. Can’t do any better than that. Looks just like her, Doc.”

  Goldfarb blinked involuntarily, looking confused.

  “Uh, really? I thought I was making Princess Diana. Oh dear, this is going to set me back several days…”

  Rex looked closely at the old man. He was in his eighties, wisps of white hair clinging stubbornly to the top of his head, and tremors in his frail hands. Alzheimer’s, perhaps.