Chapter 16 Lucky Loo, Unlucky Again

Lucky Loo crept through the black night, behind the big engineer, who was a few feet ahead on the trail. They had been travelling steadily, stealthily, since Doc Savage had left them. He had apparently cleared the way for them. The two of them had thus far encountered no guards. The worthy peered about, the area plainly visible because of the goggles with the condensed-milk can lenses he wore, which picked up the infra-red rays projected by the lantern Renny Renwick carried. He followed close behind the big-fisted man, moving as quietly as he could. Truth be told, Lucky Loo was not an outdoorsman. Lucky--out of a corner of one eye--saw a blur to one side of the trail. Then it was gone. The worthy was not sure what it had been. "Hey, boss," Lucky whispered to the giant Renwick. Came a crash. A bullet whizzed at Lucky, and "ping"-ed against stone, narrowly missing the worthy. Renny pushed Lucky down into a small depression beside the trail, then fell into it himself. The big engineer aimed his big gun at the lone gunman--in the light of the infra-ray lantern, the gunsel might as well have been standing in broad daylight--and squeezed the trigger. There was a sharp crack. The guard suddenly felt his chest, knew he had been hit. He stood a few moments, unsure of what to do--the wound did not seem to be serious--then promptly collapsed. "Mercy bullets," Renny explained, before Lucky Loo could ask. Doc Savage had a strict policy against killing, and had developed the special guns and ammo. The mercy bullets contained a chemical which would produce unconsciousness in its victim. The bullets themselves were not particularly harmful, breaking the skin just enough to administer the chemical into the bloodstream. The gunsel had been surprised at this, that he was not more seriously wounded from a direct impact to the chest. "That's sure to bring others. Let's get to better cover." But before the two could find a suitable vantage point, three gunsels closed on the area. With a thumb the size of a small hen's egg, Renny moved a switch, like a safety, on the gun, and pointed it in the direction of the oncoming thugs. They crept along, unaware they were plainly visible in the beam of the infra-red ray lantern. The giant Renwick squeezed the trigger again. The machine pistol spat bullets, filling the air with a roar not unlike that of a bull fiddle. Its rate of fire was somewhat above six hundred rounds a minute. It throbbed in Renny's big hand like a thing alive. The three fell like wheat before a scythe, toppling unceremoniously to the ground. Medusa, on the other trail, gave a visible start at the sound of gunfire. The bullfiddle roar was a familiar sound to the ears of Doc Savage, and he knew that his engineer aide had been forced to fire upon Medusa's gunmen. The mastermind turned, scurried back along the trail. He quickly disappeared from sight behind a small rise. The man of bronze was forced to choose between pursuing Medusa and returning to his two companions who were in danger. Doc Savage flashed out into the darkness like bronze lightning, away from the trail Medusa had taken, toward the sound of gunfire. Renny's great advantage, in the small depression off the main trail, was that the gunsels could not see him. In the pitch-blackness of the almost-new moon, he was practically invisible. The gunmen seemed to be locating him by the flash of his super-firer's muzzle and the great roar of the gun. There had been a couple of near-misses, but nothing more. Renny had dropped half a dozen of Medusa's thugs. They had stood boldly in the darkness. Word had spread among them that the engineer had some way of seeing in the dark--the gunsels had become more cautious, behaving as if it were day with a bright sun. They had taken cover behind scrub brush and low rises themselves. "Get out of here, Lucky," said big Renwick, "before we're boxed in." "I'm not going anywhere, boss," the worthy stated flatly. Giant Renny got to his knees, hauled Lucky up with him. "I'll draw their fire. Go!" He pushed Lucky Loo away. The worthy ran, impelled by the power of the big man's shove. The giant engineer had pushed him so hard that Lucky almost toppled over before finding his feet. A sharp crack sounded, clear as a bell in the stillness of the night. Hot pain seared through Renwick's arm. Ham-sized fists relaxed involuntarily, dropping the super-firer gun. "How'd that guy ever get the nickname 'Lucky'?" the big engineer asked himself ruefully, eyeing his bleeding arm. Lucky Loo ran in the direction he thought the beach lay in, where the collapsible boat had been hidden. He couldn't think of anything else to do. The worthy made his way along in the darkness. He had abandoned the weird goggles when he had left the range of the infra-ray lantern. Lucky was off the trail, figuring that the gunsels would be using it. It wasn't difficult avoiding the scrub brush, but twice the worthy stumbled over stones. He wracked his brain, searching for an idea. Lucky Loo felt as though he were abandoning the big engineer, and didn't like the feeling. A sound of furtive movement interrupted Lucky's train of thought. He fell to the ground as a precaution, the way Renny Renwick had done. The worthy listened for further sounds of movement. Had he been spotted? The scuffing noises continued--something soft scraping against something hard--seemingly unaware of Lucky's presence. The sounds grew no louder nor softer, and did not change their location. Lucky Loo crept closer to the origin of the scraping sounds. He came to a boulder. The noise was coming from around back of the large stone. Lucky Loo was no coward, by his own assessment, but his eyebrows were inundated with perspiration coming off his forehead by now. He gathered his courage, and peeked around the boulder. Johnny Littlejohn lay there, bound and gagged. The lanky geologist struggled to free himself from the twine that bound him, his movements on the stony ground creating the scuffing noises. Lucky Loo let out a sigh that was audible. He knelt beside the bony geologist, worked at one of the knots which held Johnny fast. Behind the gag, the lanky man fought to speak. "Don't worry," whispered the worthy. "It's me--Lucky." The tone of Johnny's voice became strident, words still unintelligible. Lucky Loo took this to mean "hurry". "I'm doing the best I can," explained Lucky in a low whisper. "Quit wiggling." Then the worthy heard a loud "scuff" noise behind him--the sound of shoe leather against gravel--and froze in place. "What have we here?" said an unpleasant voice in an unpleasant tone. Lucky slowly turned toward the voice, and found a thick-forearmed moustachioed man pointing a gun at him.

The Stone Death Written By: Jeff Deischer Dedicated to "Kenneth Robeson X" for his encouragement. The Stone Man is a work of fan fiction. Doc Savage is © Conde Nast Back to: Top of Page Index Page Home Page