Primal Spillane Read online

  Quickly, he slipped off his flying suit, filled it with grass and leaves, and laid it in a natural position beside the fire. Anyone that looked in from the miniature forest around would certainly mistake the dummy for him! About fifty yards off, his parachute still hung from the trees. Without a wasted movement he climbed up and cut the lines from it. A piece about thirty feet long he fashioned into a lasso, the other pieces were tied together in one long strand. Nick hurried back to the edge of the little clearing around the fire. A single pathway ran into the open space, a logical approach for anyone.

  On the edge of the opening were two saplings. Nick looped an end of the rope about one, drew it back in the ground and staked it down with a length of wood that barely held it. The other sapling received the same treatment with the other end of the rope. Now he had a gigantic slingshot. A slight pull on the rope would release the tension and the trees would shoot upright throwing the marauder back into the brush. That noise would be the signal for action! Nick strung the rope across the path, then climbed a tree and went to sleep.

  OTTO GRESS breathed heavily, anticipating the pleasure of killing his hated enemy. His eyes gleamed in the moonlight. The first thing that a man would do, he knew, was search for water, then bed down for the night. Experienced eyes and ears had located the stream minutes before, then he smelt the smoke of a wood fire.

  “Fool!” he said to the trees. “Such a simple thing to find him now.”

  Otto grinned. No doubt the American would expect him to slip in through the woods. Perhaps he even prepared a trap for him.

  But at that moment, he came upon the path. A sudden decision prompted him to follow it, being that it was the easiest way to reach the spot. Shadows of the trees hid him well. Moonlight never touched his stocky body as he slid from tree to tree. The smell of the smoke was getting stronger now, and when Otto looked up he saw the thin black outline of the stuff drifting lazily against the moon.

  THE AMERICAN was more foolish than he first thought. The fire was a dead giveaway, but to use green wood on it made the game child’s play. The German smiled and checked his gun. He advanced slowly, thinking that perhaps the other flier might be on his guard. He thought out all the possibilities carefully. If he were foolish enough to light a fire, then he would feel secure and fall asleep. However, the man might sleep lightly, and it would not do to take any chances. He would die in the spot that he lay in!

  Carefully, Otto slipped down the path. This was a way that was so obvious the American would not expect him to take it. Finally the end was in sight, and there, clearly outlined in the glow of the fire was the body of a man. The German raised his Luger and took careful aim. He squeezed the trigger. Orange flame spat from the muzzle again and again. The body twitched with each shot, but stayed in the same position.

  Ha! That did it! Otto walked forward to the edge of the clearing. Then it happened! His foot hit what he thought was trailing vine, there was a sharp rustle of the two trees springing upright, and he was picked up bodily and hurled through the air! He hit a tree with a thud, fell to the ground moaning. At once he realized what had happened He’d walked blindly into a trap! The American was clever, but where was he now? The German shook with fear. Why didn’t the fool rush him? Surely that bundle by the fire was a dummy, and the shots couldn’t have gone unheard! Everything had happened so fast that he hadn’t had time to think. Fear had him tightly in his grasp!

  AT THE first sound of a twig breaking, Nick had awakened. His eyes had quickly become accustomed to the gloom, and he dropped from the tree. As silent as a cat, he had made his way through the brush to the path.

  Out of the shadow of a tree a form ran. Immediately it disappeared into another shadow. Nick followed in the other’s footsteps. He could jump the guy at any time, but he’d wait, he thought, and watch the fun. Clearly, he saw the smirk on the other man’s face as he drew his gun and fired. This was going to be worth watching!

  Nick ran back a way when the Nazi walked into the rope. He knew the exact spot where he’d be thrown, and waited for the moment. He didn’t wait long. A swish, the thud of a body hitting the tree, the man’s groan told the story. Then, Nick waited behind the tree. He saw the look of fright seep into the German’s eyes, and watched his hands shake.

  Otto stared into the darkness, fully expecting a body to fall on him from somewhere. A twig crackled in the bushes and he emptied his gun in that direction. When the hammer clicked on an empty chamber, he threw it to the ground.

  A few feet away, Nick smiled. The German was ready to crack under the strain at any moment. Suddenly he let out a wild yell and dashed up the path. Nick sprinted after him, uncoiling his makeshift lariat. He twirled it above his head a few times, then let it snake out. The loop settled around the German’s shoulders. Nick braced himself and jerked. On the other end, Otto screamed once and fell in the dust. A quick leap, and Nick was on him. It took but a moment to have him trussed up like a hog.

  Early the next morning a scouting plane spotted Nick’s parachute in the trees. Shortly afterwards a boat set out from the carrier. Nick and the captured German, still well trussed, met it on the beach. There were a lot of wild shouts when the boys saw the pair, and every body shook hands with the flier.

  “How’d ya do it, Nick, was it a hard job?”

  NICK grinned from ear to ear. “Naw. Ah used an’ ole Kaintucky trick for capturm’ wild pigs! It worked like a charm. This guy was pretty stupid. He walked right into it! Ah guess he must have been born in a city or something, ’cause he didn’t know anything about the woodsman’s tricks!”

  ***

  Fast Thinking

  SWAYING lightly in the breeze, the grey bulk of the observation balloon tugged gently at its cable, which was anchored to the forward end of the little freighter several thousand feet below.

  “Biff” Coakley grinned at the other passenger in the cockpit and pointed down. “Never think from the looks of things that there’s a war going on, eh?”

  “Shucks, no!” Whitey answered. “Here we are out to spot subs, with the dickens being raised in the Philippines only a few miles away, and yet everything is as quiet as a tomb!”

  “That’s what I don’t like. There ought to be plenty of activity around here, with our transports landing troops all over the place, but nope, not a thing!”

  But he was wrong. Far below the surface, out of sight of even the eyes in the balloon, an iron sea-serpent slid along the floor of the ocean. Ears were glued to sounding devices that located the exact position of the little ship above. Slowly — not knowing what protection the freighter might have, the submarine rose. Then in a furious rush, shot to the surface like a frightened fish!

  Far from being caught unawares, the crew of the rusted freighter rushed to their guns. They were too late. Bubbles boiled from the nose of the sub, and a moment later the quiet was ripped apart by the rending crash of a torpedo!

  Biff’s eyes popped. “Whitey! The dirty skunks got them!”

  “Golly!” Whitey breathed softly. “We’re done for!”

  But something was happening. Very slowly the balloon was being drawn closer to the sinking freighter! The sub had gone, leaving the crew of the doomed ship to die in the ocean! Now the balloon was being dragged down to the same fate! Biff clutched the rail of the small pit.

  “Somebody must have started the winch going to roll us down as soon as the sub was sighted! If only we can make it before the tub sinks!”

  “Everybody must have been killed by that torpedo, else we’d see some movement. Hey! She’s starting to list!”

  IT WAS listing, all right! Like a slowly filling cardboard box, the freighter was settling. Even in the few minutes since the attack, waves were starting to wash over the decks! The winch kept grinding, hauling in the rubbery form above. One hundred, fifty, thirty feet to go …

  “Hang on, Whitey!” Biff yelled, and plunged over the side! He landed with a thud on the wave-washed deck, scrambled to his feet and smacked at a lever on
the side of the grinding winch. The drum stopped revolving.

  Whitey looked down from the short length of cable that held the balloon to the winch that would have chewed them to pieces!

  “Wow! That was too close for comfort! What now?” He slid down the steel rope and joined Biff. Desperately they searched the decks, but there was not one sign of life. The torpedo had seen to that. By the time their inspection was over, both boys were seething with fury and hate for the rats that had started all this. Their fingers longed to wrap around a Nipponese neck and crush the life out of it!

  Whitey looked at Biff. “See which way the wind is blowing, pal?”

  “Yeah, about North-North East, why?”

  “Heading for Japan, see? And we have to get off this crate mighty soon, or else! Do y’ get me?”

  “Get you! I’ll say I do! Come on!”

  With the speed of desperation, Biff and Whitey raced to a cabin a few feet away. They crashed into the door sending it flying open. Fiercely they dragged out a wheeled rack, and on its springy bed lay six man-sized bombs, instruments of destruction capable of wrecking a good-sized ship! They piled them into the cockpit, then pulled the cord on their water ballast tank.

  “Think she’ll go up, Biff?”

  “Yup! Draining this tank will just about equalize the weight, although it isn’t going to be funny when we toss these things over. We’ll probably shoot up into thin air so fast we won’t be able to catch our breath!”

  “Well, I always wanted to see the earth from the stratosphere! Let’s go, the old girl is about ready to give up!”

  They hopped to the balloon’s metal cockpit, squeezing in between the ugly snouts of the bombs. Just in time Biff leaned over and gave the toggle connection a flip, and the balloon shot skyward. Below them the ancient freighter threw her nose into the air, pointing at them as if with a ghostly finger, then settled under the waves. Biff and Whitey snapped a smart salute to their departed comrades.

  BULGING awkwardly at first, with loose folds of fabric flopping in the breeze, the balloon inflated as it went up, until the gas was firm within the hide. Finally it came to rest with the boys breathing fast in the rarefied atmosphere. The altimeter dial registered 18,000 feet.

  “How’re we doing, Biff?”

  “OK, I guess. Our wind drift is just about right. This is a crazy stunt, but it might do some good.”

  “We had no other choice. All the lifeboats were smashed, anyway!”

  The morning sun gleamed brightly, setting off everything below, but the sea was calm, and not a ship was in sight. Slowly the sun rose to its zenith, then settled down over the western horizon. The day had dragged slowly; now the dusk brought a freezing cold to the upper regions. Whitey and Biff shivered through their sheepskin clothes.

  Gradually growing dimmer, the red ball had not quite gone down, when the boys glimpsed the trace of smoke on the horizon. Then the smoke resolved itself into a ship, then two. Finally, stretched out on the ocean was a line of nine boats.

  Biff shook Whitey. “Look! A squadron of battlewagons!” He snatched up his binoculars. “Well, I’ll be … they’re Japs!”

  But someone else had spotted them, too. Away in the dusk was a flash, and a moment later one of the ships lurched, and with a terrific crack her sides blew out! Seemingly moments later other boats appeared, and a wicked fight threw the ocean into a frenzy. Biff and Whitey were besides themselves with joy, for the other boats were American.

  From their vantage point they saw it all, shouting unheard encouragement to the men from the U.S.A. But the balloon blew steadily onward, leaving the battle behind. Down below, the air was thick with smoke, debris littered the water. It was evident that the American boats had gotten the better of the scrap!

  Suddenly Whitey gasped. “Biff! Over there … a Jap aircraft carrier!”

  Biff paled. “My gosh! Those planes’ll knock off every one of our boats. Why do we have to be so helpless! If only we could let them know!”

  “We can do better than that. We’re heading directly over that trouble-maker — if you get what I mean!” Biff s eyes widened, for the possibilities of the thing were enormous!

  THE WIND was their friend, that day. It blew them on a true course straight over the flat flight deck of the carrier. Biff and Whitey wrestled one of the huge bombs on to the side of the cockpit. “Now!”

  A push, and the messenger of death hurtled down! Quickly another, then another went over. A rending crash from below marked a direct hit! Cheering, they pushed over the last. Explosions were coming up steadily as the bombs found their target!

  But suddenly the boys were sucking in air desperately, for the released weight had thrown them up into thinner air … and they were still going up! Then, on the sinking carrier underneath them a gun spoke! Antiaircraft guns fired in one last attempt to destroy the thing that had destroyed them! Flashes burst around the balloon, while steel fingers whistled through the air!

  “I — I guess we’re d-done for, Biff.”

  “Hang on, feller, you never can tell!” Biff dragged himself to the side and looked over. He grinned slowly, for coming at full speed was the American squadron to finish off the carrier. What guns were left on the Jap ship barked, but they were listing so badly that their aim was ineffective.

  Still the anti-aircraft gun spat. Its crew had hate in their hearts for the giant bag that hung almost motionless thousands of feet in the blue. Shell after shell poured in a steady stream skywards. Biff and Whitey flattened themselves on the floor, seeking what little protection they could. The orange flashes burst closer to the balloon with every shot. In a moment the gun crew would have the exact range, and that would be the last of them!

  With an ear-splitting roar, a shell blasted through the dusk. The balloon lurched violently, jerking the occupants of the cockpit against its sides. Surely this was the end. From above came the hiss of escaping gas. The balloon stopped rising, then it slowly began to descend. The hiss grew louder as the fabric tore. Both lads were on their feet. They could breathe without difficulty now. The balloon had dropped out of the thinner air. They were fast becoming an easy target — The next shot would — But, the carrier would never shoot another shot! As the boys watched, the massive hulk rolled over like a great, tired turtle — and slid beneath the waves.

  Lazily, the huge, grey balloon mass floated down to the sea. It wasn’t until it was barely a thousand feet from the ocean that it was noticed by the American ships. Immediately lifeboats went over the side. Biff and Whitey shouted with glee, and pounded each other on the back. They were saved!

  MESS on board the cruiser that night was a wild place, indeed. The boys told and retold their story.

  Later, as they were crawling into their bunks, Biff grinned over at Whitey. “Well, we didn’t make Japan …”

  “Nope. We didn’t, but by gosh, we sure showed the Emperor what to expect when we do!”

  ***

  Death in the Sea

  WATER FOAMED behind the steel encased glass eye that jutted out above the waves. The periscope turned slightly on its metal neck and stopped, for sliding into the crosshairs of the sights below deck was the low shape of a heavily laden oil tanker. Commander Von Helsner slapped his thigh and muttered a guttural order to the young officer at his side.

  Bells rang sharply, men jumped to firing stations. The short, squat commander stood with his eye glued to the eyepiece. His hand came up — then down!

  “Fire!”

  A stream of bubbles shot from the nose of the sub, the long line heading directly for the steamer. Above, at the last moment, the tanker lookout spotted it yelled — but before the ship’s course could be altered, death struck!

  A savage burst of flames blasted from the middle of the tanker. Then — the whole vessel went up in a mass of smoke, debris, and fire, as the oil bunkers let go. In a matter of ten seconds, men died, killed without warning.

  Below, safely watching the awful scene, the U-boat commander chuckled evilly. He tu
rned to the young officer. “The hunting is good, no?”

  Hans Frier grinned his acknowledgment and nodded. “Ja! This trip has been a good one, all right. Seventeen ships, all told. Soon the waters will be empty!”

  Von Helsner went back to his periscope, scanned the sea and gave the order to surface. Compressed air hissed into the tanks, blowing out the water. The blunt prow broke the surface, then the hull of the sub followed. While the decks were still awash, men scrambled from the conning tower and leaned over the rail.

  “Not a man in sight!” someone murmured.

  The sea was littered with driftwood, spars, and the remains of lifeboats. A life ring bobbed on the wave crests. Von Helsner pointed to it.

  “Get it. See what ship it was.”

  A boathook shot out and snared the ring.

  “The Walker Lee, sir.”

  “Ah, good, I think that the Americans will stop trying to slip across these lone tankers now!”

  Suddenly a startled shout broke from the lips of a sailor.

  “SCOUT PLANE! In the sun!” Frightened eyes looked up into the red ball of fire. It was a plane all right, by the looks of it. probably a giant Sunderland. There was a mad scramble to the conning tower. Men shot down the ladder, then the hatch slammed shut. Almost before the last man left the deck, the sub went into a crash dive. Quickly it sank into the cold ocean, but it was a moment too late. The Sunderland wheeled on a wingtip and headed for the dark blob under the surface.