Read Online Indiana Jones and the Army of the Dead by Steve Perry - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Steve Perry
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testament to their stoicism; that they would consider it necessary indicated intelligence and proper training. All reasons why the Reich would eventually prevail. Truly dedicated men would do whatever was necessary for victory, that was the German way.
Too bad the kaiser had not realized this in the Great War—Germany would now run the world and Gruber would not have to be in this particularly nasty part of it . . .
“Very good, Sergeant. I have a lotion for you to treat the bites. Your report, please.”
Sergeant Braun nodded. “Our quarry is at the local village, and they seemed to have bedded down for the night. The two men are in a hut. The woman is in a different hut, alone. A group of locals have collected gear from the store and returned it to the village.”
“And your guess as to their intentions?”
“They will leave the village in the morning. Early, first light, to make best use of the relative coolness before the day heats up.”
Gruber nodded. “Any signs of the Japanese?”
“I did not see any, Doktor. One of our men remains hidden, watching, but trying to trek through the jungle any distance in the dark would seem unlikely. If the Japanese are about, they will likely stay where they are for the night.”
Gruber nodded. Yamada and his people were here, which was bad. Then again, if Gruber’s men had not seen them, perhaps they had not seen the SS troops, either. The advantage might be his—he knew Yamada was here, but Yamada might not know he was.
Any advantage was a good one. Always.
“Good work, Sergeant.”
After Braun and Schäefer had departed, Gruber lay down upon his cot in the small tent. It was dark, and the day’s heat was still oppressive, no breath of wind stirring. Even with a net over the tent’s doorway, insects had gotten inside, and their incessant buzzing was annoying. His repellent kept the bugs from biting him, but their small noises made sleeping difficult. Well. He would have to get used to them, wouldn’t he? They might be here for several days, and staying awake that long would hardly be likely.
TEN
I NDY WAS BEING chased by somebody—Nazis, agents of Kali, some South American werecats, all of whom were yelling or roaring for his blood. He moved as if his legs were mired in glue, so s-l-o-w-l-y! but he managed to get to a building and inside. He slammed the door behind him, but his pursuers began pounding on the portal, on the walls, trying to break in—
Indy came awake suddenly, aware of a drumming noise.
Where was he—?
He looked around, saw Mac getting to his feet, drawing his little pistol from his pocket. The dim light of a kerosene lantern suffused the inside of the little hut. Right, yeah, the village—
The hammering on the door and walls grew louder. It vibrated the building, shaking the place like an earthquake.
“What the hell is going on?” Indy said. He reached for his own gun.
Mac shook his head. “I don’t know. But I see why that bar for the door was installed, and I’m glad I slid it into place!”
The pounding grew yet louder, and its sound was joined by something else, a kind of monotonic drone, like that of a man-sized bumblebee.
Oh, man! Now what?
The bar on the door seemed to be holding, but both Mac and Indy pointed their guns in that direction. Whatever it was—or whoever it was—if it came through the door, it was going to be dining on lead . . .
Abruptly, the pounding stopped. The drone continued.
“What the devil is that?”
“Some kind of chant, sounds like,” Indy said.
The sound started to fade.
“Moving away,” Mac said. “Let’s have a look.”
“Are you crazy! Get away from there!”
Too late. Mac already had the door halfway open.
Indy gripped his revolver tightly, his hand sweaty.
Mac stuck his head outside. “Oh, my.”
“What?”
Despite himself, Indy stepped forward to look.
The village fires had all died down, but there was enough of a moon and stars in the clear sky so that they
Too bad the kaiser had not realized this in the Great War—Germany would now run the world and Gruber would not have to be in this particularly nasty part of it . . .
“Very good, Sergeant. I have a lotion for you to treat the bites. Your report, please.”
Sergeant Braun nodded. “Our quarry is at the local village, and they seemed to have bedded down for the night. The two men are in a hut. The woman is in a different hut, alone. A group of locals have collected gear from the store and returned it to the village.”
“And your guess as to their intentions?”
“They will leave the village in the morning. Early, first light, to make best use of the relative coolness before the day heats up.”
Gruber nodded. “Any signs of the Japanese?”
“I did not see any, Doktor. One of our men remains hidden, watching, but trying to trek through the jungle any distance in the dark would seem unlikely. If the Japanese are about, they will likely stay where they are for the night.”
Gruber nodded. Yamada and his people were here, which was bad. Then again, if Gruber’s men had not seen them, perhaps they had not seen the SS troops, either. The advantage might be his—he knew Yamada was here, but Yamada might not know he was.
Any advantage was a good one. Always.
“Good work, Sergeant.”
After Braun and Schäefer had departed, Gruber lay down upon his cot in the small tent. It was dark, and the day’s heat was still oppressive, no breath of wind stirring. Even with a net over the tent’s doorway, insects had gotten inside, and their incessant buzzing was annoying. His repellent kept the bugs from biting him, but their small noises made sleeping difficult. Well. He would have to get used to them, wouldn’t he? They might be here for several days, and staying awake that long would hardly be likely.
TEN
I NDY WAS BEING chased by somebody—Nazis, agents of Kali, some South American werecats, all of whom were yelling or roaring for his blood. He moved as if his legs were mired in glue, so s-l-o-w-l-y! but he managed to get to a building and inside. He slammed the door behind him, but his pursuers began pounding on the portal, on the walls, trying to break in—
Indy came awake suddenly, aware of a drumming noise.
Where was he—?
He looked around, saw Mac getting to his feet, drawing his little pistol from his pocket. The dim light of a kerosene lantern suffused the inside of the little hut. Right, yeah, the village—
The hammering on the door and walls grew louder. It vibrated the building, shaking the place like an earthquake.
“What the hell is going on?” Indy said. He reached for his own gun.
Mac shook his head. “I don’t know. But I see why that bar for the door was installed, and I’m glad I slid it into place!”
The pounding grew yet louder, and its sound was joined by something else, a kind of monotonic drone, like that of a man-sized bumblebee.
Oh, man! Now what?
The bar on the door seemed to be holding, but both Mac and Indy pointed their guns in that direction. Whatever it was—or whoever it was—if it came through the door, it was going to be dining on lead . . .
Abruptly, the pounding stopped. The drone continued.
“What the devil is that?”
“Some kind of chant, sounds like,” Indy said.
The sound started to fade.
“Moving away,” Mac said. “Let’s have a look.”
“Are you crazy! Get away from there!”
Too late. Mac already had the door halfway open.
Indy gripped his revolver tightly, his hand sweaty.
Mac stuck his head outside. “Oh, my.”
“What?”
Despite himself, Indy stepped forward to look.
The village fires had all died down, but there was enough of a moon and stars in the clear sky so that they
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