Title: Stick With Me, Kid

Author/pseudonym: Tinnean

Fandom: Son of Kong, which was the sequel to King Kong

Pairing: Carl Denham/Johnny Smith, Captain Englehorn/Charlie implied

Rating: NC-17

Email address: Tinneantoo@aol.com

Disclaimer: All things Kong belong to Universal, Edgar Wallace, Willis O'Brien and Merian C. Cooper. (Although Obie was reputed to be unhappy with SoK.) Johnny Smith is mine.

Status: new/complete

Date: 6/03

Series/Sequel: This is the sequel to the King Kong story, Beast Was a Tough Guy, Too

Other Web Site: http://www.angelfire.com/fl5/tinnssinns

Archive: OK, I surrender. Yes to all the list archives. (I'm so easy!)

Summary: Carl Denham's first visit to Skull Island resulted in unexpected tragedy. Now, a return visit seems to be in the cards. Will things end any better this time?

Warnings: m/m, spoilers for King Kong and Son of Kong

Notes: A massive amount for this story. The title comes from a line in Son of Kong. Not as memorable as 'It was Beauty killed the Beast,' but hey, we're talking a 71 minute movie. In the movie, Hilda Peterson was actually an adult. Since I've already given Carl Denham a love interest, it just worked better to make her a little girl. Apologies to the purists in the house. Racial slurs and epithets are relevant to the time and do not reflect the beliefs of The Management. The Cocos (Keeling) Islands are actually denoted in this manner, but since Johnny wouldn't hear the parentheses, I left them out. The song Hildy sings, which Johnny and Carl walk out on, is Love for Sale, from Cole Porter's 1930 show, The New Yorkers. Aside from its general sexual connotation, in the Jazz age ' whoopee' also meant wild fun. Denham was being sarcastic. Two bits is twenty-five cents.

This is for Alex, who's been gone two years, and who was taken from us much too soon, for Athea and Gail, who waited so patiently, even when I was positive I could never come up with a hook for a sequel, and for Otter who expressed an interest in what became of Johnny and Carl. Thank you, ladies. Thanks also to Tim, for the technical advice. You can never do enough research. :) And just because, here's a 'hi' to Jake. Hi, Jake. *g*

Additional thanks to Gail for being the world's best beta. I could never do it without you.

Stick With Me, Kid
By Tinnean

I found it hard, at times, to believe I was actually sailing the South Seas with Carl Denham. He'd gotten me aboard the SS Venture just before she'd sailed out of New York harbor and showed me to a cabin. "This is *our* cabin," he'd told me.

It wouldn't last. One day he'd grow tired of having a male lover, and he'd go back to the skirts who'd offer to sleep with him in hopes he'd put them in his moving pictures but who wouldn't love him the way I...

I *knew* it wouldn't last.

I wasn't the kind of mug happily ever after happened to.

****

"We're fortunate that we've got that hold full of weapons," Captain Englehorn was telling Mr. Denham as I brought the lunch tray up from the galley. I paused in the entryway to watch them, unobserved.

The Skipper was a tough old bird, in remarkable shape for his age. His hair was salt and pepper, as was the walrus moustache that draped his upper lip. He was a good captain, his only vice appearing to be the pipe he was never without, and he had accepted my last minute inclusion aboard the Venture good-naturedly.

"There's always a demand for guns!" Mr. Denham conceded.

Carl Denham was some twenty years younger than the Skipper. Until a couple of years ago, he had made his living filming travelogues to be shown in the moving picture palaces throughout the hinterlands of America, bringing the wild, the unusual, the breathtaking to small town inhabitants who would never have the opportunity to see them otherwise. Dark hair and eyes, of average height, and physically fit, he was my lover. He was also the only person that I truly loved.

"We were really lucky the ones we never got around to using on the last trip weren't confiscated. We'll be able to use them as currency."

"Really lucky." But the Skipper didn't sound as if he believed that. A lot of men he'd sailed with for years hadn't come back from that voyage. He smiled sadly as he accepted a bowl of fish stew from me, and a slice of week-old bread. "We should be sailing into Dakang within a couple of hours." He peered at the bread and sighed. "It's a good thing we'll be taking on fresh supplies. Charlie's a good cook, but even he can't do anything with weevily flour."

"It will be nice to have something other than fish," Mr. Denham agreed as he took the bowl I handed him and speared a bit of fish onto his fork. He studied it dispassionately before deciding to go ahead and put it in his mouth.

"I thought you liked fish, Mr. Denham." I set the tray aside.

"Yeah, but not for breakfast, lunch and dinner!" My lover sent me a grin that never failed to make me go weak in the knees. "How you doing, Johnny?" He hooked his free arm around my waist, and pulled me close to his side. Unseen by the Skipper, his hand drifted down and petted my backside.

"I'm good, Mr. Denham." I leaned discreetly into his caress.

"No more seasickness, kid?"

"Geez, Mr. Denham, I haven't been sick in months." The first few days out of New York had been a nightmare. We'd been sailing into the tail end of the hurricane season, and the Atlantic had been rough. I hadn't been able to leave the cabin I shared with him, puking my guts up, and I knew for a time he had been afraid I might not survive the week. Once we'd reached the calmer waters of the Caribbean, though, and began our passage through the locks of the Panama Canal, my stomach had had a chance to settle down. I'd quickly acquired my sea legs, and I hadn't been sick since.

Captain Englehorn gave me a smile of approval. "You are doing well, Mr. Smith." I always blushed at the measure of esteem his calling me that gave me. "After lunch, I'd like you to try plotting a course from Dakang to Kupang." He'd been teaching me how to navigate using charts and instruments.

"That would be from Malaya to Dutch Timor. Yes, sir." I dropped onto the seat beside my lover and began to eat. "Is that where we'll be going?"

"Yes. We'll take on more coal there, and whatever cargo we can, and then we'll be heading for the Cocos Keeling Islands."

"Aren't they west of Sumatra?"

Before the Captain could answer, Jimmy, who operated the wireless, rushed in. My age, although I felt centuries older, he was one of the few men who had survived the Venture's last journey into the seas west of Sumatra. "Here's the latest, Skipper." He handed Captain Englehorn a slip of paper.

"Thank you, Jimmy," he murmured absently as he studied what was written on the page.

"I don't like the looks of it, Skipper. If you don't mind my sayin' so."

"It does look nasty, doesn't it? Well, no need for us to worry, since we won't be sailing into those waters."

"Phew! That makes *me* happy! I'll just leave you to your lunch then." The young man went back to his station.

"Is something wrong, Skipper?" Mr. Denham tried to bite off a chunk of bread, and his expression became irritated when it proved to be more of a struggle than he'd anticipated. He banged it on the corner of the table, where it made a solid 'thunking' sound, but he had no success in breaking off a piece.

"Not really." Captain Englehorn's smile was rueful. "It seems there's been some serious volcanic activity recorded in the region of..." He rattled off coordinates that held no meaning to me, but obviously rang a bell with Mr. Denham. He raised his head slowly, and there was a faraway look in his eyes. "We aren't going back there, Carl!"

"No, of course not, Skipper."

"Back where?" I examined my bread carefully to make sure there were no unwelcome additions in it.

"Back to Skull Island, Johnny."

"Kong's island? How far away is it?"

"It could never be far enough away," Captain Englehorn stated flatly. "We left too many good men on that island. I'll never sail those waters again!"

Carl Denham and Captain Englehorn had returned from 'those waters' a little more than a year ago with King Kong. The giant ape, billed as the Eighth Wonder of the World, had broken free of his chrome steel chains and run amok in Manhattan. He'd gone after Ann Darrow, the woman who had been taken by the natives of Skull Island to be sacrificed to him, their god. Her fair skin, so different from the dark-skinned women who were usually offered up to him, attracted him as nothing else ever had.

He'd finally taken refuge on top of the Empire State Building, and the Army Air Force had sent up planes to shoot him down.

King Kong had been destroyed by the machine guns mounted on the aircraft that buzzed him, but Mr. Denham saw it differently. "It was Beauty killed the Beast," he always insisted.

He'd been on the point of being sued by everyone and his brother when Captain Englehorn tracked him down at Mrs. Hudson's rooming house. The authorities were after the Skipper as well, since his ship had been used to transport Kong to the States.

"She's mine, free and clear, Carl. I won't let them take her from me!" He told Mr. Denham of his plan to sail the Venture back to the South Seas, and invited him along to be his partner.

When Carl Denham left New York, he had taken me with him. I'd been a down-on-his-luck kid who too often had to barter his ass for the price of a meal. My winter coat was so threadbare that a good yank by Mr. Denham had torn it in two. But that was after he'd gotten me out of a jam with a saloon keeper who didn't like my looks, fed me at the Automat, and then taken me back to his rooming house where he'd shown me the difference between being fucked and making love.

I didn't care if he'd taken me along because he felt sorry for me, or if it was because my curly blond hair and blue eyes reminded him of the woman who had willingly gone into danger for him. All that mattered to me was that I was with him.

****

I was taking the tray with the empty bowls back to the galley, when Red waylaid me.

A wharf rat who'd gotten in dutch with a gang that ran bootleg hooch and dealt in white slavery on the side, Red had been 'thisclose' to wearing cement overshoes when he'd stowed away aboard the Venture just before she'd set sail.

The way he looked at me always gave me the heebie-jeebies.

"C'mere, kid."

"Don't call me that."

"Why not? It's what the landlubber calls you."

"He's the only one who calls me that."

Red leered at me. "Yeah, an' I wonder why." He blocked the passage that led down to the galley. "You two sleep in the same cabin. What else d' you do in that cabin?"

"Look, I have to get this tray back to Charlie, or he'll skin me."

"You a-scared of that Chink, *Johnny*?" His use of my first name was almost as bad as him calling me 'kid'.

I wasn't afraid of the Chinese cook, who had always been nice to me, but I was leery of Red. I'd known men like him back before I met Mr. Denham. "Get out of my way. Please." I forced the last word out, trying to placate him.

"I bet you beg *real* good, Johnny." He took a step closer, and I backed away, only to find the bulkhead preventing any further retreat. I used the tray as a barrier between us, and he knocked it aside, leaning against me. He pulled a lock of hair free of the tie I used to restrain it and rubbed it between his fingers, making a hungry sound. His breath was sour in my face, and his erection pushed insistently at the notch of my thighs. I wondered wildly if his aim was to have me in plain sight of everyone on the ship. I fumbled in my pocket, and my hand closed on the shiv I'd started to carry early in the voyage.

"Red, ain't you got some work to do?" Dutch, the first mate, growled from across the deck. Red recoiled as if he'd been jabbed with an electric wire.

Dutch kept order among his men with his fists and a truncheon, and Red didn't dare disobey. The look he sent me promised vile things if he ever caught me alone, and he had every intention of catching me alone. He disappeared down the gangway.

"Thanks, Dutch." I let out a shaky breath. "He was getting a little pushy."

"Yeah, well, what can you expect when you shake that ass of yours around my men. Stay away from 'em, Smith, or I ain't gonna be responsible for what happens."

A hard flush crept up my cheeks. It wouldn't matter if I told him I hadn't been shaking anything around any of the men. Red wasn't the only one who believed I could be had for the taking. So far the only thing that kept them in line was the fact that Mr. Denham had winged one of the crew when he'd tried to jump me, and the Skipper had put the man off at the next port.

Avoiding Dutch's contemptuous gaze, I gathered up the tray and broken bits of crockery, then edged past him and went down to the galley.

"Johnny, where you been? I need you help me." Charlie looked up from the pan of mealy potatoes he'd been peeling and swore in Chinese when he caught sight of the tension in my face. "You aw right? What happen?"

"I'm fine, Charlie. Please don't tell Mr. Denham. Red just got a little too enthusiastic." I dropped the broken bowls in the bin Charlie used for the trash, then tidied my hair.

"Stay 'way from him, Johnny. He bad man who hurt you just 'cause he can."

"I know. The world is full of men like that." I pushed the worry from my mind. "We'll be sailing into Dakang soon, and I think the Skipper is giving most of the men shore leave. You won't have to cook tonight, Charlie."

His yellow face lit up with a grin. "That sound good to me, Johnny." He took the pan of potatoes and tossed them out the porthole. "I gonna find place with good Chinnee cooking, you bet! I got make list of supplies we need, but then you want play Mah Jongg with me?"

"Thanks, Charlie, another time, oke? Captain Englehorn wants me to practice my navigation."

Charlie nodded, but he was already poking through the larder, muttering to himself.

I slid my hand into my pocket and idly caressed the handle of my shiv. I went back up to the bridge.

****

The SS Venture drew quite a bit of water, and Dakang had one of the few harbors where she could ride comfortably at anchor in port. She was tied up at the dock, and the Skipper had assigned Dutch a skeleton crew to keep watch on the cargo of tea and rubber that was being loaded in exchange for a number of the crates of weapons the Venture still carried from her last, ill-fated voyage.

Charlie intended to make a bee line for the marketplace, a list in Chinese clutched tight in his hand. Captain Englehorn was going along. "Charlie will wind up buying birds' nests for soup and hundred year old eggs if I don't keep an eye on him," he murmured around the pipe in his mouth. His hand rested on the cook's shoulder, and I saw the smile they shared.

I had to look away. It was so private, so personal. Why had I never seen the abiding... friendship between the two men? I glanced up at Mr. Denham. His dark eyes were on me, and they were alight with satisfaction. He winked. "C'mon, kid. Let's go see the sights."

Away from the waterfront, where the breezes off the ocean kept it cool, the air was like a wet blanket that threatened to suffocate us. The heat was overwhelming, and sweat quickly stained the material under the arms of my shirt and down my spine.

"I really oughta get my hair cut," I groused as I ran my hand under the hair that grew almost to my shoulders.

"I like your hair, kid."

Which was why I wouldn't cut it. I sighed and pulled out a handkerchief, and mopped at the dampness that gathered at the back of my neck.

There really wasn't much to see in Dakang beyond a couple of temples and the local whore house, and as the sun set, we found our way to a bar that served food as well as drinks that were guaranteed to eat the enamel off a person's teeth.

"We'll stick with the local beer, kid. It's the safest thing to drink. And you don't want to ask what this is," Mr. Denham told me as he carried the dishes with an unnamed meat on them, grilled and buried under a mound of vegetables, to an unoccupied table, and I brought our glasses of beer.

"I'm not fussy. I've eaten some pretty strange things, Mr. Denham." I set the glasses on the table, then pulled up a chair and sat down.

Under the guise of passing me my dish, his fingers lingered on the back of my hand, and my eyes rose to his in surprise. He didn't usually touch me in public.

"Let's eat and then get back to the Venture. It's been too long since I've had you."

"But Mr. Denham, what about this afternoon?" I kept my face serious, but my eyes crinkled in silent delight. Shortly before we'd sailed into Dakang, I'd gone down to our cabin for a quick wash and to change into shore clothes. My lover had followed me and found me just pulling on my trousers. He'd yanked them back down, scooped up some Vaseline from a jar that he kept on hand, and while one hand was stroking me to full arousal, the fingers of the other were stretching and preparing me for his invasion. When he finally slid into me, it hadn't taken very long before I was panting and trembling under him, and then pouring myself into his hands as he climaxed with a groan.

"Like I said, too long." His eyes were hot as they leisurely traveled over my body.

My prick quivered, and I licked my lips and peeked at him through my lashes. "You promised me a night on the town," I teased.

"This is the sum of the nightlife in Dakang, Johnny." He gazed pointedly around the scruffy bar, and I laughed. "I like when you laugh, kid. You don't do it often enough. Say, it looks like the floor show is about to start! I guess we're going to see some whoopee now!" he said dryly. "Come sit beside me."

Tables had been moved from the center of the floor and equipment was brought out to make it look like a miniature three-ring circus. A grizzled old man in a shabby ringmaster's coat came staggering out with a pair of monkeys riding the epaulets on his shoulders.

"Ladies," he bowed to the raddled whores who sat with their clients, "and gentlemen, and children of all ages!"

Mr. Denham leaned toward me and whispered, "Any parent who allows his kid in a place like this has no right being a parent!"

I nodded my agreement, although I didn't know much about that. My old man had always been too busy to do more than acknowledge my presence with the back of his hand. I went back to listening politely as the old man continued.

"Welcome to the final, farewell tour of Maestro Peterson's World Famous Acrobatic Simians!" He bowed expansively, almost falling on his face, and even from where we sat, we could see he was drunk.

"The old fool been havin' a farewell tour for the last six months!" a voice behind us slurred, and Mr. Denham stiffened.

"Well, I'll be a monkey's uncle," he said, slowly turning to face the heckler. "If it isn't Nils Helstrom."

"Yah, I'm Nils Helstrom. Who... *Carl Denham*?" He was shocked into sobriety.

"This is the man I won the map from, Johnny. The map that showed the way to Skull Island."

I studied the Norwegian. It was hard to judge how tall he was with him sitting, but I'd wager he was approximately the same height as my lover. His Scandinavian heritage was obvious in his fair hair, although it was greasy and unkempt, and in his pale blue eyes. He was rather gaunt, as if he hadn't been eating on a regular basis. His clothes hung on him, and they were shabby and none too clean. He needed a shave. Badly.

"What are you doin' in this part of the South Seas?" he asked.

"Let's just say that things got a little hot for me back in the States, and I decided to leave."

"You ain't blamin' me for that, are ya? I coulda made a fortune on that map if I'd'a had a chance to sell it. I still think you cheated."

"Mr. Denham doesn't cheat!" I snarled, whipping out my shiv and slapping it down on the table.

He must have realized how serious I was, because he gave a sickly smile. "No. 'Course not. No. I was just jokin'," he whined. "Don't your friend got no sense of humor, Denham?"

Mr. Denham was enjoying his discomfort. "Doesn't look like it, does it, Helstrom? This is my associate, John Smith." The Norwegian didn't offer his hand, and neither did I. "What are you doing here? I thought you were run out of every port from Taiohae to Fatu Hiva."

"I lost my ship." He wasn't going to tell us why. "I been in Dakang six months now, lookin' for another one. I gotta get out of this hell hole! Listen, Denham, maybe you got a spot for me on your ship?"

I waited tensely for my lover to say something. I had a bad feeling about Nils Helstrom. I didn't like him, and I didn't want him on the Venture with us.

"No."

"But..."

A scattering of applause indicated that the performance had come to an end. I didn't much care that we'd missed the monkey riding a unicycle or the one swinging on a trapeze. I took a last swallow of my beer and pushed my chair back, about to suggest we leave.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, the highlight of my farewell tour. The jewel of Dakang and all points east! The lovely, the talented: Mademoiselle Helene!" The old man placed a stool in the center of the room with a flourish and waved his hand.

The room became silent, all attention focused on the new performer. Helstrom's face flushed an unhealthy shade, and he made a sound deep in his throat. I turned to see what had caught his interest.

Mademoiselle Helene was beautiful.

The dress she wore was gauzy; it slipped off her shoulder, exposing a fragile collarbone. Long, blonde ringlets were pulled from her piquant face to cascade down her back. Her eyes, set off in a frame of unusually dark lashes and brows, were a deep blue. They were calm under the scrutiny of her audience.

She was beautiful. And she couldn't have been more than seven years old.

Several of the men sat forward, watching her avidly, and I could almost hear them salivating.

She curtseyed, climbed onto the stool, and accepted the guitar the old man gave her. Offering a sweet smile, she struck a chord and began to sing. "'When the only sound in the empty street, Is the heavy tread of the heavy feet That belong to a lonesome cop...I open shop...'"

Mme. Helene had a surprisingly strong voice for a child, but she was a little girl. She shouldn't have been singing about whores. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Mr. Denham flinch. None of the other patrons seemed to care, they were too busy staring at her. The old man watched her perform with inordinate pride.

"Mr. Denham?" I whispered.

"Yeah, kid. Let's go. So long, Helstrom."

The Norwegian grunted absently, devouring the girl with his eyes. We got up and left, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. I paused at the door, glancing back at her. Mr. Denham squeezed my shoulder. "There's nothing we can do, Johnny. It's not our business."

"I know, but..."

"Come on. I know of a little beach at the end of this road. What do you say we go for a moonlight swim?" The road was deserted. He slung an arm over my shoulders, and we strolled through the balmy night. "It should take us about a quarter hour to get there."

"How did you find out about it, Mr. Denham?" Frangipani scented the warm air.

"I gave one of the kids who swarm the dock two bits to tell me the best spot to go swimming at night with someone you... like very much."

"So that means you... like me?"

"Yeah, kid, I guess it does." His arm tightened around me. "Very much."

I tucked those words away in my memory, for a time when they were all I had. I knew there would come a day when he would no longer want me, but that day hadn't come yet.

The beach was small, not more that a dozen yards from one end to the other, and about half that to the water's edge. It was secluded, shielded by native plants that grew densely around its periphery. Gentle waves lapped at the shore, their soft rushing the only sound that disturbed the night. We took off our shoes and socks and began to cross the sand, which was silvered in the moonlight. It was cool beneath our feet.

I watched appreciatively as my lover shed his clothes and ran headlong into the water to cut the surface neatly in a flat dive. He emerged, waist deep, shaking his hair out of his eyes. "Come on in, Johnny! The water's fine!"

"Are you sure there's nothing in there that will eat me?" I was thinking of the sharks that I'd seen over the Venture's railing from time to time, as Charlie would dispose of the bloody remains of the fish that had been caught and cleaned for a meal.

"Only me, kid," he teased.

My blush went unseen in the dark of the night.

"C'mon, Johnny. Let me teach you what it's like to make love in the ocean!"

"Just don't let me drown, Mr. Denham." I stepped into the water tentatively, but it was as warm as bath water, and I took a deep breath and dove into the oncoming waves. I'd been tossed into the East River too many times not to have learned at least the rudiments of swimming.

I could tell from his movements that he had no idea where I was, and I swam underwater toward his legs. They were like two muscular columns, bracing his weight, rising up from the sandy bottom, and I itched to run my fingertips over the hair that covered calves and thighs, and... higher. I found I couldn't resist.

My lover's startled shout was muffled by the ebb and flow of the water I was submerged in. His prick was quiescent but quickly swelled, as if he knew I was watching, as if he knew I wanted to drag my tongue over the crown, dip it into the slit, and suckle it until he climaxed in my mouth, but he'd given me no indication that he wanted that.

I had to surface for air sooner than I liked.

"Rascal!" he growled playfully and pulled me into his embrace. I laughed out loud. The last thing I expected was the kiss.

Although Carl Denham had been the first person, the only person, who had ever kissed me, I could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times he had done it. I knew that was one aspect of our lovemaking he wasn't comfortable with, so whenever he chose to include that, I savored it.

He licked my lips, tasting the salt drops that lingered on them, then nudged them apart. His tongue didn't surge into my mouth, as I was anticipating, but lingered just within, rubbing over the edges of my teeth, lapping at my tongue. My breath hitched, and suddenly I was sucking on his tongue frantically, on fire for him.

My lover's fingers squeezed my ass cheeks rhythmically, and I could tell he was as hot for me. He backed me out of the surf, leaning me against a rock that was hidden by the shadows of the palm trees surrounding the beach, and then he worked my prick until I filled his hand with my seed. He coated himself with it, and I lay back on the rock and pulled my legs against my chest, opening myself to him. Knowledgeable fingers smeared semen over my hole, into it to lubricate his way, and he buried himself balls deep in my back passage with one smooth thrust.

Mr. Denham painted my torso with the remains of my climax, rubbing it onto my nipples until they hardened to pinpoints of maddening sensation. His hands encircled my throat, and his thumbs pushed my chin up. He murmured something, but the blood was roaring in my ears, and I couldn't understand his words. It didn't matter, because his mouth came down on mine, his lips brushing back and forth until I parted my lips with a helpless moan. This time his tongue took my mouth, filling it as surely as his prick filled my ass. I sucked on it, the fingers of one hand digging into his hip so hard I was sure to leave bruises, while the fingers of the other flexed in his hair.

He pulled his mouth free, gasping for breath while he fucked me, pounded into me, sweating, swearing, biting down on the side of my neck, until he finally reached orgasm, pulsing against my sweet spot. My prick, trapped between our bodies, attempted to rise to the occasion, and would have if it hadn't already been satisfied.

I lay beneath him, boneless, sated, the rough edges of the rock digging into my back, willing to stay like that for the rest of our lives, if that was what he wanted.

Finally he let out a contented sigh and murmured, "We'd better get back to the ship, Johnny."

"Oke, Mr. Denham." I ran my fingertips along the curve of his jaw, the stubble of his beard tantalizing under my fingers. I made no move to get up.

"You planning to move any time soon, kid?" His prick was softening.

"In about ten or twelve years?"

He chuckled and slipped out of me. My inner muscles clamped down, trying unsuccessfully to hold onto his prick. He pulled me to my feet, and we staggered a bit, then went into the ocean to wash ourselves clean, propping each other up. We used our BVDs to wipe off the excess moisture, dressed, and started back to Dakang and the Venture.

Part 2

Note: A ladder, on a ship, refers to a set of stairs.

"Enjoy the moonlight swim, Johnny?"

"Yeah, Mr. Denham." I leaned into his side. "I'd never have known what I was missing if I hadn't met you." Only I wasn't talking about swimming. I wondered if my lover knew it. "I didn't realize we were gone so long."

"What?"

I pointed to the sky ahead of us. "The sun's already coming up."

"That's the West! Jesus, Johnny, that's not the sun! Something's on fire in Dakang!"

"Not the Venture, Mr. Denham!"

"No." He broke into a run, and I followed on his heels. "It doesn't look like it's coming from the harbor. Oh, sweet ..." A tent behind the bar where we'd dined was burning fiercely. "That's Peterson's tent!" Simian shrieks filled the night. "Oh, those poor little bastards!"

The fire raged out of control, and the bucket brigade had given up on the tent. Men were frantically wetting down neighboring structures in hopes of saving them from the inferno.

"Help me! Please, help me!" The little girl, clothed in a nightdress streaked with soot, was trying to drag an inert figure from the blazing canvas. Mr. Denham and I jumped forward to each grab an arm and pull the old man the rest of the way out. His clothes were a charred ruin, and the odor of burnt flesh almost overcame me.

I stared in horror at my hands, which were covered in the ash that had been his shirt and skin. "Is there a doctor in the village?"

Mr. Denham had his ear pressed to Peterson's chest, listening for a heart beat. He sat back on his heels, caught my eye, and shook his head. "It's no use."

The little girl burst into tears. "Daddy! Daddy, you can't leave me!" Her little hands fisted in his shirt, and she shook him. "You can't leave!"

Mr. Denham put an arm around her and urged her to her feet. "I'm sorry, Helene."

"Hildy." Her eyes glittered with tears.

"Excuse me?"

"Daddy said 'Helene' sounded more professional, but my name is really Hildy."

"Is there anyone you can stay with, Hildy?"

She sniffled and ran the heels of her hands under her eyes. "No. It was just Daddy and me."

"Mr. Denham, who's going to look after her?"

"I can take care of myself." The little girl's voice cracked on a sob. "I'm... I'm very self-reliant." She burst into tears again.

A large woman dressed in a sarong stepped forward. "I take little missy. She come home with me."

My lover looked relieved. "Good. We'll take up a collection so she has a little money. Where are you staying? I'll bring it to you in the morning."

The woman gestured to a row of ramshackle houses. "Just ask for Mai Ling." She put her arm around the little girl and hustled her away.

One of the men in the group snapped his fingers and pointed to the body on the ground. "Bury him. Bodies no keep in this heat."

My lover was gazing intently into the shadows. "Is that Helstrom?"

"I don't see anyone." I stared after the Malay woman. "Does she look familiar, Mr. Denham?"

"Hmm?" He brought his attention back to me. "Oh, they all look alike, kid. You probably saw someone who looked like her when we were sightseeing."

But I didn't think I had seen her in the streets of Dakang.

****

"It really isn't much, Mr. Denham," I murmured as we walked through Dakang late the next morning. "What's she going to do?"

"This is a lot of money for these islands, kid. She'll make out fine. Hey," he hailed a boy of around twelve, "where does Mai Ling live?"

The boy leered at us and pointed to a house whose roof was in dire need of repair. Mr. Denham frowned, but walked to the doorway.

"You give her to me, Mai Ling," we heard someone say in a low, harsh voice. "Her father promised her to me!"

"I no t'ink so! Little missy stay with me!"

"I told you she'd be oke, kid," Mr. Denham whispered. He rapped on the door-frame. "Mai Ling, I have some money for the little girl."

"I be one minute," she called, but it was longer than that. "So sorry, Joe. You give Mai Ling the dough."

"Who was that in here?" I asked her, seeing that there was no one else in the room.

"I no know what you talkin' 'bout, Joe. I all alone."

I studied her eyes, but they revealed nothing. "Where's Hildy? I'd like to say good-bye."

"Little missy still asleep, Joe. She cry long time for father. You go now. Mai Ling got t'ings to do."

"Let's go, Johnny. The cargo's been loaded, and we'll be leaving in half an hour." He gave the woman a polite salute and walked out. I followed him, reluctant to leave without seeing the little girl.

"Mr. Denham," I said urgently, "she's American. We can't just leave her."

"She can't come with us! The men on the ship are some of the worst scum I've ever come across. The Skipper didn't have much choice; he was in such a hurry to leave that he had to take what he could get to man her. We can't expose a little girl to riffraff like that!"

"But Carl..."

His head whipped around at my use of his name. "Johnny, we can't..."

"Denham!" It was Nils Helstrom, who'd captained the Norwegian bark, and I hoped he wouldn't keep us standing there long. If the Venture was leaving soon, I'd have to come up with some darn good arguments to take the little girl with us.

Mr. Denham studied Helstrom from the soles of his worn canvas shoes to the dirty cap on his head. "What?"

"You gotta take me with you on the Venture!" He grabbed my lover's arm and I could see his fingers digging in. My hand was in my pocket, reaching for my shiv. "Englehorn's a good man, he'll go along with it if you ask him."

"No." Mr. Denham shook off Helstrom's grip and stepped aside to walk around the edgy man.

"Listen, Denham! Listen to me!" He dogged after us. "I didn't tell you everything about Skull Island."

"No?"

"No! Behind that wall! I know what's behind that wall!"

"No fooling, Helstrom. And what would you know about what was behind the wall?"

"The native I found, he told me there's a treasure! Jewels! "

"What?"

Satisfied that he had caught my lover's interest, the Norwegian drew in a deep breath. He licked his lips, his eyes darting this way and that, almost as if he was trying to buy himself some time, I thought. "He... uh... he said there was a temple, an *old* temple, to their god, uh... before Kong... behind that wall, and... uh... in that temple was a fortune in jewels. Diamonds. Sapphires as blue as this kid's eyes. Rubies as big as your nose! Worth a king's ransom, he said!"

"A god before Kong? Why didn't you mention this when you wagered the map?"

"I thought I had the winnin' hand, that I couldn't lose. An' then when I did, I was sore, an' decided I wouldn't tell you. I figured I knew the latitude an' longitude, I'd maybe go sail there myself. Only I lost my ship before I could, an'..."

Mr. Denham's lip curled, and he turned and walked toward the pier.

"No, wait," Helstrom pleaded, and he ran after him.

I stood there undecided for a moment, then went back to the Malay woman's house.

****

"You're not hungry, Johnny?"

I gave a guilty start and stared down at my food, which I'd been pushing from one side of my plate to the other. "Not really, Mr. Denham. I grabbed a bite at the marketplace before I came back on board," I lied.

"So that's what held you up." He leaned forward and ruffled my hair. His action loosened it from the tie that kept it out of my face. "You nearly missed the boat, you know."

"I know," I said in a subdued voice, brushing my hair back behind my ears. "I'm sorry. Thank you for not sailing without me."

My lover frowned at me as if he found my statement perplexing, but it was Captain Englehorn who said, "Not at all, young man. Carl would have been unbearable to live with if you'd been left behind. However reticent he might be about it, I think you're good for my friend."

I risked a glance at the Skipper. He really thought that? But he was mopping up a bit of gravy with a chunk of fresh bread and didn't notice my hopeful expression. "Thank you, Captain. Um... I think I'll turn in, if you don't mind?"

"You going to leave your plate here, Johnny? Skipper and I will split your dinner. No need for Charlie to know you didn't want it."

"Oh. No. That's oke, Mr. Denham. I wouldn't want to hurt Charlie's feelings. I'll just... er... take it with me for later."

"If...you're... sure, kid?" His words were measured, and the way he was watching me made me nervous.

"Yes. 'Night." I hurried out of the cabin. How long would I be able to keep my secret? And what would Mr. Denham think of me when he found it out?

****

The lantern shed a dim light in our cabin. I stared morosely at the shadows that were cast on the wall.

When the door opened, I shut my eyes and tried to regulate my breathing, pretending to be asleep. I could feel Mr. Denham's eyes on me. "What are you up to, John Smith?" he whispered, running his hand over my blond hair. "And when are you going to tell me?"

"Hmmm? Huh? Oh, Carl." I pretended to waken. "You say something?"

"What's wrong, John?"

"Nothing. I swear."

His hands dropped to his belt, and he began to undress. "Why don't I believe you?"

I rolled onto my side, huddling in on myself, chilled in spite of the muggy night air. Suddenly I felt my nightshirt sliding up over the backs of my thighs, over my ass, to be abandoned over my ribs.

Warm palms stroked their way back down and pushed me onto my belly. They gripped my cheeks and parted them. I tried to hold myself still, uncertain what my lover had in mind for me, but my control was shattered by the touch of his tongue first licking delicately at my hole and then curling to penetrate it. I buried my head in my pillow to prevent my stunned cry from going any further.

He turned his head, and his lips caressed the curve of my ass. Teeth bit down into it, and then lips and tongue began to work, marking it. I knew when he was done there would be a deep purple bruise.

Slicked fingers probed my hole, finding entry made even easier by the actions of his tongue. I tried to get my knees under me so I could push backwards. "No. I don't want you to move. Do you understand?"

"Yes." I bit down hard on my lip to keep myself from crying. I was lucky he had taken the time to prepare me, but I understood. He was going to fuck me, to teach me a lesson for keeping things from him. I wondered if he'd put me off the ship, leave me behind at the next port we came to.

I held myself motionless, but I couldn't prevent the shudders that wracked my body.

"Easy, kid. Easy."

His prick thrust in smoothly, a huge intrusion stretching my back passage, and his body blanketed mine. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me snug against him, then twined our fingers together and eased us over onto our sides. My ass was cradled against his groin, and he started a gentle rocking motion. I would have sworn that I could feel each wiry hair that surrounded his prick brushing against my buttocks.

He changed the angle just a bit and hit my sweet spot, and I felt a tidal wave of heat rush over my body. I made a low, desperate sound. His laugh was just as low, just as desperate. I tried to free my hands so I could stroke my prick, but he tightened his grip.

Each time I came close to climaxing, he'd slow until the claws of need that tore at me would subside. Finally he placed my hands around my aching, oozing shaft, folded his hands around mine, and let me take control of the movements. I gasped out disjointed phrases, of want, and need, and ... It didn't take long after that. I was spilling my seed into our joined hands, and he was filling me with his heat.

I thought I heard him whisper something about... No, that was stupid. A man... like Carl Denham... would never lo... I fell asleep, the thought unfinished.

****

I was in the wheelhouse, trying unsuccessfully to plot out a route Captain Englehorn had given me, from the island of Tinian to Leyte. The Skipper was at the wheel, one hand cupped around the bowl of his pipe, and Mr. Denham was leaning against the hatchway, smoking a cigarette he'd rolled himself.

I watched him hungrily. His eyes were brooding as he stared at the ocean rolling away behind us. He'd been cool to me, hadn't touched me, since the night of our departure from Dakang more than a week before, and it was breaking my heart. I became tense whenever he was near me.

Something down on the weatherdeck drew his attention and he stiffened. "Uh oh. What's this? A committee of the workers in Russia?"

"What are you talking about, Carl?"

"Better come take a look, Skipper."

I suddenly had a funny feeling in my gut. I joined them on the companionway. Below us was about half the crew, men who weren't on duty.

"What's going on, men?" the Skipper called down.

"That's what we'd like to know!" They separated, and left standing in the center of the deck was the little girl. She stood quietly, her arms crossed over her chest, hugging herself. Her hair was braided down her back, and she wore a man's shirt, belted at her waist with a length of rope.

"That's Hildy Peterson, Skipper," Mr. Denham said, his hands clenched on the rail. "The little girl from Dakang. How did she get on board?"

"Dames is bad luck at sea!" Red hollered, shaking his fist and glowering up at us. "I say we t'row her over the side!"

My hand went to the shiv in my pocket.

"Nonsense!" the Skipper barked. "That's simply superstition, and foolish superstition at that! Come up here, little girl."

Hildy rushed up the stairs. Her eyes were huge, and they settled on me with every sign of relief. "I'm sorry, Johnny. Eddie came down to the galley for something, and he found me before I could hide."

I dropped to one knee, opening my arms to her, and she went into them. I could feel the tremors shaking her slight body and tightened my hold, trying to make it as comforting as possible. She slid an arm around me and buried her face against my shoulder.

"I brought her on board, Captain." My mouth was dry. "I'm sorry, Mr. Denham, I couldn't leave her there. Mai Ling was one of the whores who was in the bar that night; that's where I recognized her from. She was going to sell Hildy. She already had a plantation owner lined up. Seems he had a taste for little girls." I couldn't disguise the bitterness in my voice.

"Ah, hell. Why didn't you tell me, kid?"

"You told me no. I disobeyed you."

"Is that why you've been so skittish? And here I was thinking... You're a dope, you know that?" He tipped up my face and ran his knuckles under my chin. "We've got a partnership here, don't you realize that yet?"

"We do?"

"We do. Next time, come talk to me. Don't let me think... Never mind, you don't want to know what screwy things I was thinking!" He looked Hildy over, and his eyes narrowed. "Say, that shirt looks familiar." He rubbed the collar between thumb and forefinger.

"It's... uh... it's one of yours, Mr. Denham. I borrowed it. All Hildy's clothes were destroyed in the fire."

"Johnny..." He sounded exasperated, but he was smiling, and I knew everything was jake between us. He threaded his fingers through my hair and gave a little tug. I rubbed my cheek against his hand.

"Where have you been keeping her, Mr. Smith?"

"The first night I hid her in one of the lifeboats, but it was too dicey; anyone could have found her, so I talked to Charlie, and he let her stay with him, Skipper."

"So that's why he's suddenly developed a chronic headache!" the Skipper chuckled.

"All the men know he sleeps with that meat cleaver under his pillow. I thought that was the safest place for her."

"And were you ever going to tell us she was on board?"

I rose to my feet and looked away.

"Never mind. How do you do, Miss Hildy?" Gallantly he took her hand and kissed the back of it.

"I do quite well, thank you, Captain Englehorn. May I ask the same of you?" An adult's response. Had she ever sounded like the little girl she was?

The Skipper smiled at her, then turned to see the men still gathered around on the deck. "This was a working vessel, the last time I looked. You men get back to work."

"Yeah, well, what about *him*?"

This time Nils Helstrom was shoved forward.

"What the *hell* are you doing on this ship, Helstrom?" my lover demanded.

The Norwegian gave a sickly grin but addressed his words to the Skipper. "I had to leave Dakang, Englehorn, but I couldn't get a ship. I was goin' batty; the heat, the bugs, the liquor that tasted like donkey piss. An'... er... uh... They was blamin' me for that fire!" He licked his lips nervously, and his eyes darted to the little girl. "Didja ever hear such a load of hooey?"

Hildy clutched my hand, her grip strong for a child. "Johnny, he killed my daddy!" she said in a clear voice, her eyes glittering with anger. She had vowed she was done shedding tears a couple of days after we'd sailed from Dakang.

Every eye in the wheelhouse turned on Helstrom. "Is that true?"

"No! The girl's talkin' crazy, I tell ya! She don't know what she's sayin'!" He scowled at Hildy as if trying to will her mouth shut. "Why would I want to hurt her old man? I didn't hardly know 'im! An' besides, I wasn't even there!"

Her hand tightened. "He brought Daddy booze! Every night after a performance!" She tugged me down to her level again, and her breath was warm against my ear. "It scared me, the way he would look at me, and Daddy said I should never go with him, no matter what!"

"Ain't a man innocent till proved guilty?" Helstrom's tone was sulky.

The Skipper glowered at the man, working the stem of his pipe between his teeth. "You're here on my ship, Helstrom, and I can't very well toss you overboard. But I've heard of you; you're bad news, and I don't need your sort of trouble. I intend to put you off at our next port of call. In the meantime, you'd better watch your step. If I see you starting *anything* with my men, I'll have Charlie chop you up for fish bait! Have I made myself clear?"

"Sure, Skipper. Sure." Helstrom's lips were smiling, conciliatory, but his eyes were filled with resentment.

****

During the next couple of weeks, we seemed to have run into a streak of bad luck. Captain Englehorn came down with some sort of stomach ailment and was laid up in his cabin. While he was recovering, most of the day-to-day running of the Venture was left to Dutch.

We lost a man or two each time the Venture sailed into port, usually through run-ins with the local law, although a couple decided they preferred the easy-going life on the Spice Islands to the taut way the Skipper ran his ship.

Of course, none of the men left behind was Helstrom. The Norwegian was never anywhere to be found when we berthed, not turning up until after the Venture had sailed again and was safely out of sight of land. Captain Englehorn had recovered by that time. He didn't push it because we'd become so short-handed. Besides, it appeared as if Helstrom was pulling his own weight.

****

Something jolted me out of a restive sleep in the quiet hours after midnight.

Mr. Denham had taken to sleeping curled around me, his chin resting on my hair as it fanned out on the pillow. I savored the sense of belonging that embrace gave me, and I lay like that, trying to determine what had disturbed me. Finally I came to the conclusion it must have just been the urge to relieve myself. I slid out from under my lover's arm and made my way to the head.

I was too edgy to go back to sleep, so I decided to go up on deck and contemplate the constellations in the southern sky. Quietly I pulled on a pair of trousers, making sure my shiv was in the pocket, put on my shoes and tucked in my nightshirt.

Mr. Denham had kicked off the covers, and gooseflesh pimpled his arms and legs. I drew the blanket over him, rubbing my cheek against his before pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, and then left the cabin.

Before I had gotten very far, I heard footsteps pounding on the deck. It sounded like thunder, it was coming this way, and I got that funny feeling in my gut again. I slipped into a narrow stowage compartment where mops and buckets were stored, keeping the door cracked so I could see and hear what was happening. About half a dozen men came storming down the passageway, and they burst into our cabin.

"What the..." Mr. Denham demanded, groggy from being awakened from a sound sleep.

"Grab 'im, boys!"

He quickly came to full alertness. "What's going on? What do you think you're doing?"

"We're takin' over this ship! Get 'im up on deck with the Old Man!" I recognized Red's voice.

Mr. Denham was dragged out in his nightshirt, struggling. I started to go to his aid, and he saw me, although the others didn't. He gave a shake of his head, indicating I should stay put, and stopped trying to get out of their grip. "All right, boys. I guess you've got me," he said with the same tone of voice he must have used when he matter-of-factly announced that, 'It was Beauty killed the Beast.' "At least let me get some clothes on."

"Red?"

"What the fuck are you still doin' here?"

"He needs somethin' to wear."

"Fuck it. Here." A pair of trousers was tossed from the cabin.

"Shoes, Red?" Mr. Denham asked as he drew on first one trouser leg and then the other, tucking his own nightshirt in and buttoning the fly.

A stream of curses came from our cabin, and then a pair of shoes was flung out. "Now get 'im the fuck on deck."

They disappeared up the ladder.

I stayed hidden. Once I learned what was going on, I'd figure a way to rescue my lover.

There were sounds of the cabin being thoroughly searched. "Smith ain't here, Red."

"No shit."

"Dutch ain't gonna be happy, that's for sure!" one of the other men muttered. The first mate was involved as well? Bile filled my throat. What was happening?

Red growled. "Billy, Eddie, Snitch, go look for the fag! When you find 'im, don't beat on 'im *too* much. We get rid of the mucky mucks, an' I'm gonna have me some fun with his ass!" I shivered at the venom in his voice. "An' mebbe I'll even share, once I've had enough of 'im. I'm goin' back topside. Dutch wants to keep a eye on the Norwegian. Helstrom says he's only lookin' out for us, but Dutch an' me, we ain't so sure of that!"

Footsteps faded as they left the area and silence descended. I slipped out of the compartment, crossed to our quarters, and stared aghast at the disaster they'd left behind. Clothes had been yanked from cupboards and strewn all over our berth and the deck. Papers were ripped and torn.

I had to get to my lover. I made my way to the top deck, slinking through the shadows, taking care to remain unseen.

Captain Englehorn faced his men, endeavoring to conceal his anger. "What is the meaning of this?" He prepared his pipe, as if dealing with a mutinying crew was an everyday occurrence. Beside him were Mr. Denham, just stepping into his shoes, and Jimmy, who was holding a bloody rag to his forehead. I wasn't surprised to see him ranged with the Skipper. The wireless operator had always been staunchly loyal to his captain.

"I'll tell you what the meanin' of this is!" Dutch mocked derisively. "We're onto you! You was headin' this old tub back to Skull Island, you an' Denham! Helstrom told us what happened your last trip out, all the men that died, an' we got no intention of joinin' 'em!"

Twelve men, Mr. Denham had said. Twelve had died, one trampled underfoot by a horned dinosaur, another crushed between the jaws of a creature that lived in the lake that was almost an inland sea. Most had been shaken off a downed tree that had spanned a ravine by Kong, who had backtracked when he'd heard them following him. They had plummeted to the chasm floor fifty feet below. The lucky ones died instantly, from the fall or from being torn apart by a prehistoric spider so huge it made those 'station wagons' Henry Ford was mass-producing look like a boy's toy. But some... some had been cocooned by the spider as a source of food for her eggs, which she'd laid on their bodies. Mr. Denham had watched in horror from the other side of the ravine, helpless to do anything to save them.

I'd held him when he'd been tormented by the nightmares.

A sailor cried from the bow, "Bottom! Twenty fathoms!"

"An' youse planned the same t'ing for us!" Red sneered. "Well, not on your Nelly, Captain god almighty Englehorn! We's takin' over this ship! The Venture be ours now!"

Dutch frowned and gave him a sharp poke to shut him up.

"That's mutiny!" The Skipper sought to reason with them. "Do you all want to hang?"

"It's only mutiny if we get caught!" Dutch's eyes were shrewd. "An' I aim to see we don't get caught!"

"How will you do that?"

"Listen!" Dutch ordered, pointing to starboard.

"What are we listening for?" Mr. Denham looked from Dutch to the Skipper.

"Them's breakers! We's about a half a mile from Skull Island!" Red was only too ready to gloat, and Dutch glowered at him, irritated.

"*Skull Island*?" The Skipper sounded horrified, and that was when I really got scared. "We aren't supposed to be anywhere near that part of the South Seas! We're totally off course!"

"Bullshit! Like we'd believe anything you tell us! You were gonna do this all along!" the first mate insisted. "You're lucky we don't throw you to the sharks."

Again the voice floated back from the bow of the ship. "Bottom! Ten fathoms!"

"This ship draws six!" the Skipper said urgently. "Slow her down or she'll tear out her bottom!"

"Think I don't know that, Skipper? I been to sea since I was a snot-nosed kid." But Dutch shouted, "Dead slow ahead!"

The cry came back, "Dead slow, aye!"

 Part 3

"What are you going to do with us?" The Skipper's voice was once more contained.

"We's puttin' you off in a boat, and youse takes your chances with them critters what live on Skull Island!" Red continued to flap his gums.

I stopped listening to him. One of the lifeboat davits was empty, and I knew that must be the one the mutineers intended the Skipper, Mr. Denham, and Jimmy to use. I peered over the rail. The lifeboat was riding gently on the waves that slapped against the hull of the Venture. I swung a leg over the side, caught a rope, and shimmied down.

I sat down hard when I saw that, sitting huddled in the bow, were Charlie and the little girl. He put his finger to his lips to forestall my questions and raised a tarpaulin. Beneath it were three rifles, and five knapsacks and canteens; he'd never doubted that I would be one of their party. Later I learned that the knapsacks contained what food and other supplies he and Hildy could gather on the spur of the moment.

"Stay out of light, Johnny. This way they no know we here."

I nodded and crawled to the stern. The three of us waited in the darkness.

"G'wan, get over the side before we t'row you over!"

"Where's Johnny?" There was panic in my lover's voice.

"We's keepin' your Nancy-boy, Denham. Mebbe we'll let ya have 'im back. If ya still wants 'im when we's done with 'im." There was coarse laughter.

"You..."

"Carl, no!" There was a sodden thud. "Jimmy!"

"Aye, aye, Skipper! I got him!"

I surged to my feet, grabbing the rope and about to climb back up to see what had been done to my lover.

"No!" Charlie warned in a harsh whisper, diving toward the back of the boat and seizing my wrist in a bruising grip. "You stay! Skipper and Jimmy get your man down safe! You go up, they take you, we all die!"

"Why?" I asked sullenly. "I'd be the one going back."

"Mr. Denham no leave without you. Skipper stay for his friend, I stay for Skipper." He hefted his cleaver, which I hadn't seen before. "We all die."

"Me, too," piped up Hildy. "I don't like those men."

"All right." I gave in to their request, although that was the last thing I wanted to do. My fingers itched to grab a rifle and start firing, but I'd never used a gun before, and I knew I'd do no one any good with such a headstrong action.

Hildy scurried to me and burrowed against my side. "Thanks, Johnny. Those men scare me. They're like the ones in Dakang that Daddy wouldn't let come near me."

I was relieved to hear her father at least had some sense.

"Oww! Hey!" Red cried out as someone must have struck him.

Dutch snarled, "Let that be a lesson to you, Red! *I* dole out the punishments on this tub! All right, Skipper, you'd best be on your way!"

The lifeboat pitched as Jimmy dropped into it and struggled not to go over the side. Then the Skipper lowered Mr. Denham down. "I'll take him," I said in the wireless operator's ear, and he started, not realizing the lifeboat was already occupied.

"You? You're here?"

"You think I'd stay on board without him?"

"I thought they'd got you." He squeezed my arm. "I'm glad they didn't."

"Thanks, Jimmy," I said gruffly. It never failed to amaze me, that he accepted me because Captain Englehorn and Mr. Denham did. "You're still bleeding."

"It's nothin'. Head wounds bleed like a bastard." He rubbed his sleeve across his forehead to mop up the blood. "It'll stop soon."

Just then, my lover groaned, and I sank down onto my seat with him in my arms.

"It's all right, Mr. Denham. I've got you," I whispered, pressing my lips to his ear.

"Johnny!" There was something in his voice... He turned in my embrace. "I thought I'd lost you!"

"Not likely. You know me, Mr. Denham. I'll always turn up like a bad penny."

His arms slid around me and tightened. "Johnny." The way he said my name was like a caress.

The boat rocked as the Skipper slid down the rope. "What about food? Weapons?" he barked at the men above him.

"We let you have your lives. Now, row for 'em!" Dutch turned away from the rail.

Someone laughed harshly and fired a pistol at us. The shot went wide. It was followed by the sound of blows. "You're a rotten shot, Red, and you're wastin' ammunition!"

"Oww! I'm sorry, Dutch! I was just tryin' to scare 'em, I tell ya. I'm sorry!"

"Yeah, yeah, tell it to the Marines! G'wan, beat it! I'm sick of the sight of you!"

"We better get while the gettin's good, Skipper!" Jimmy whispered.

"Excellent idea. You take the aft oars. I'll take the fore. What the... Charlie?" Captain Englehorn had almost sat on his cook. "Oh, my friend, were they insane to maroon you?"

"They no maroon Charlie. Charlie no stay with those bad men. I go with my..." He said a word in Chinese. "Let them eat their own cooking; they starve for sure, I tell you!"

"Thank you, Charlie. But I think we're likely to starve also."

The cook raised the tarp to display our provisions, and the Skipper gripped his shoulder.

"Good man! Johnny! Hildy! My, my. We have our own crew. Thank god." He cleared his throat and said briskly, "All right, Jimmy. Let's shove off."

With long, smooth strokes, the lifeboat pulled away from the ship.

There was the sound of material ripping, and then Hildy leaned forward. "Here, Jimmy. You can use this piece of my nightie to make a bandage for the cut on your forehead."

The wireless operator reached for it, flustered. "Thanks... uh... little girl." He tied it around his head; it would keep the blood that was still oozing from his wound from dripping into his eyes.

"My name is Hildy," she said shyly.

"Thanks, Hildy." He smiled, then picked up the oars and slid back into the steady rhythm of Captain Englehorn's strokes.

"Here, Johnny. You're going to need a strip too, to keep your hair out of your eyes." Hildy had torn off another piece of material and gave it to me.

"Thanks, honey." I gave her a light squeeze, pulled my hair into a short tail, and tied it back.

"No need to worry about starving, Skipper," Mr. Denham said, although he hadn't seen the knapsacks. "We'll get a warm welcome from the natives."

"Do you really think so, Carl? I hope you're right."

"What are you talking about? I freed them from the threat of Kong. They'll treat us like gods!

"I hope you're right," he repeated. "But that village was decimated that night. They might not look on us too fondly." He stared bleakly at the Venture as if trying to commit her lines to memory.

Suddenly there appeared to be a scuffle on board. There were shouts, a scream, and then a splash as the men threw someone overboard.

"Help me! I can't swim!"

"Come about, Jimmy."

"Skipper, d' you think that's a good idea? All right, all right, comin' about, sir."

We rowed back to pick up the hapless seaman.

"I'm gonna drown! Save me! Save..." His cries were becoming waterlogged.

There was raucous laughter from the Venture. "We got rid of a *good* captain, Helstrom. We ain't gonna replace 'im with the likes of *you*!"

"Oh, damn. It's Helstrom!" Mr. Denham straightened and rubbed the side of his head above his ear.

"Do we have to save him?" Hildy shivered against my other side. "He's a bad man, Johnny."

"I'm sorry, Miss Hildy, but in good conscience, I can't let him drown," the Skipper sighed.

"He might poison the fishes!" I muttered. Hildy laughed, but I could still feel the tension in her small body. She nestled closer to me. "It's oke, honey. I won't let him hurt you." My lover gave me a strange look. "Mr. Denham?" But he just shook his head.

Flailing hands found the lifeboat and clutched desperately. Jimmy grabbed the Norwegian by the seat of his pants and yanked him into the boat.

"Thanks. Oh, god, thank..." Helstrom coughed, spewing sea water all over our feet, and met our cold gazes with a weak smile. He sank down to the bottom of the boat.

"You better watch it, Helstrom," Jimmy snarled. "This is all your fault, y' know! If you hadn't got the men all riled up with those stinkin' lies about the Skipper and Mr. Denham really lookin' for a baby Kong on that island, and bein' willin' to sacrifice them to get it, none of this would've happened. I'd've told you, Skipper, but I didn't find out about it till just before all hell broke loose. And then Dutch slugged me, and I hit my head, and who'd've thought the men would be stupid enough to fall for his line of bull?"

"What I'd like to know is how the Venture wound up in these waters." The Skipper stared intently at Helstrom, who cowered before his gimlet eye.

Whatever the Norwegian might have said was cut off as the breakers lifted the small lifeboat high and hurled it toward the shore. Jimmy shipped his oars, jumped out into waist deep water and dragged it forward.

"Looks like we have a reception committee."

Lined up on the shore were at least a dozen native men. Some looked as if an arm or leg had been ripped from the socket, a couple had lost an eye, one had an ear shorn off, but they were all armed with spears and knives. The women, with children hanging onto their tattered grass skirts, looked only marginally more healthy.

"Skipper? Tell them who we are."

Captain Englehorn rose carefully and raised his hand in greeting, and began to speak. He was the only one on the original expedition who had known a dialect similar to their language, and he was able to communicate with them. "Bala. Bala! Friend!"

Jimmy tried to keep the lifeboat from drifting closer to shore until we knew what kind of welcome we'd be getting, but it was tough.

"Are you oke, Mr. Denham?"

"Yeah, kid."

"Hildy, move over a bit, honey." I swung around on the seat and went over the other side to give Jimmy a hand.

The natives faced Captain Englehorn, their expressions stoic and cold, and they parted as their chieftain came forward. The once-proud feathers of his headdress were limp and bedraggled. His eyes narrowed, and his response was harsh and guttural. He made a slashing motion with his hand, and his men began to heft their weapons restlessly.

"No need to translate that, Skipper!"

"Jimmy, we're getting out of here."

"Aye, aye, Skipper." The boat listed as we scrambled to get back into it, and it took on a couple of inches of water. "What'd he say, though?"

Captain Englehorn waited until we were safely out of range of the spears. His face was haggard.

"Jimmy," I poked his back, "take the Skipper's oars. I'll take your place."

"Thank you, Mr. Smith. They do remember us, only too well, I'm afraid. The chief said when we came to their island, many of his people died. We took their god, and those remaining have nothing to believe in. We took their god, and they have nothing to live for. We took their god, and..."

"I get it, Skipper," Mr. Denham said with a short, unhappy laugh. "I took away Kong, and their civilization fell apart. They have nothing to live for except, maybe, killing us. Oh, hell. We're in trouble. You're going to be sorry you came along, Charlie."

"Not so, Mr. Denham."

"Even when I tell you that the beach we just left was the only way to come ashore on this misbegotten island? According to the map I had from Helstrom, the rest of it is sheer cliffs. We're doomed to row until we drop."

"No! There is a small place on the other side..."

"What are you talking about, Helstrom?"

In the early light of dawn, we could see the flush color his cheeks. "I... er... I didn't give you that information."

"Just like you didn't tell me there was a king's ransom in jewels on the other side of that wall, either?"

"You cheated me..."

I dropped the oars and lunged for him.

The boat rocked, and he tumbled backwards off his seat in an effort to avoid my attack. "All right, all right. He didn't cheat; it was an honest game!" Helstrom kept a wary eye on me, waiting to see if I'd jump him again. He relaxed marginally when I didn't. "I was gonna sell the information to you, Denham, I swear it, but then you was gone, an' I..."

"Yeah, you lost your ship." Mr. Denham grabbed his collar and hoisted him up, nearly strangling him. "I believe you about another place to land as much as I believe you about the treasure. Find the spot for us. And it'd better be damned soon, or I'll have no qualms about pitching you over the side!"

"I told you I'd tell you, didn't I?" he asked sullenly. "We just have to be on the look out for it. It juts out into the sea, an' when you're past it, if you look behind you, you see there's a narrow passage that leads into a small bay."

"Do we have anything to bail with?" The Skipper was looking his age. Hildy pulled a collapsible canvas cup from a knapsack and held it up. "That will have to do, I'm afraid."

We settled down to rowing again.

****

There were a lot of points that jutted out into the sea, but none of them concealed a channel that opened into a bay.

The sun rose higher and hotter, and still there was nothing.

Hildy tugged on my sleeve again.

"What is it, honey?"

She leaned close to my ear. "I think something is following us, Johnny."

"What...?" I looked behind us. "Oh, no. Oh, no!" I swallowed. "Mr. Denham, we've got company!" A dorsal fin was cutting neatly through the water to our port side. Dozens of yards back, a graceful tail swished side to side, propelling it forward.

The sound that came from Helstrom's mouth was indescribable, a bastard cross between a frenzied gasp and a shriek. "Sh-sh-sh- *shark*!" His eyes seemed to be swallowed up by the whites, and his face turned a sickly shade of yellow. I thought he'd piss himself. "Get it away from me! Get it *away*!"

"Shut *up*, Helstrom!" Jimmy snapped, and we put our backs into the oars and rowed, but the shark kept leisurely pace with us.

"Holy smokes!" Mr. Denham exclaimed, unable to tear his eyes from the shark. "It's as big as this boat!"

"Bigger, Carl. It must be forty-five, maybe fifty feet!"

"I ain't never seen a shark that big before," Jimmy muttered to himself.

"Neither have I." The Skipper's teeth were tight around the stem of his pipe.

"Of course! This close to Skull Island... It must be the remnant of some prehistoric species! If only I had a camera to film this thing!" my lover mourned, the showman in him coming to the fore.

"Steady on, men." Captain Englehorn spoke calmly, although he knew, better than any of us, probably, that if that shark chose to ram the tiny lifeboat, we were done for. "Keep your strokes smooth and even."

The shark seemed to study us with its flat, expressionless eyes, and then it submerged. For long minutes we sat tensely waiting for it to return. When it did, it was on the far side of the lifeboat, and it seemed content for the moment to just watch us.

Helstrom scrambled from one end of the lifeboat to the other, climbing over us, desperate to put some distance between himself and the monster shark. A couple of times he nearly caused us to founder. A nod from the Skipper, and Charlie took action. With the side of his hand gave Helstrom a chop to the back of the head, and the Norwegian dropped like a stoned crow.

"I just stun him," the Chinaman announced. "We get some peace for little bit now."

The Skipper dropped his hand on Charlie's shoulder. "Good work, Charlie. Someone keep Helstrom's nose out of the water at the bottom of the boat. We wouldn't want him to drown."

"We wouldn't?"

"This is a dangerous situation we find ourselves in, Mr. Smith. I won't lie to you. We're going to need every hand we can muster."

"If you say so, Captain. I just hope we don't regret it."

Jimmy growled something under his breath that sounded like agreement and bent his back to his oars.

"Look! Look!" Hildy pointed excitedly toward the island. She gave a single bounce, and then subsided, casting an apologetic glance at me. "Look! There's the passage!"

"Thank god!" I said fervently. "Good girl, Hildy."

We angled the boat toward the spot Hildy was pointing to, and within a matter of minutes we were pulling away from the shark and entering the channel that would lead us into the bay, and to safety.

****

There was no spot where we could beach the lifeboat. The horseshoe-shaped bay was surrounded by ferns, vines and brush which grew in profusion to the lichen-covered stone that formed what looked like a natural pier at the water's edge. Something that didn't seem as densely covered, that looked almost like a ghost of a path, led inland, and that's what we rowed toward.

Helstrom had come to his senses a short time before, and he didn't wait. As soon as the lifeboat was close enough to land, he jumped out, a leap that would have rivaled Nijinsky. His foot skidded in the slippery moss, and he fell face forward. Scrabbling on his hands and knees, gibbering in panic, he finally got his feet under him and bolted into the undergrowth.

"He won't go far," Mr. Denham said sourly. "He doesn't have a gun."

"And I don't intend for him to have one!" Captain Englehorn's tone was stern. "After what he pulled on the Venture..."

My lover clambered out and staggered a bit, and I was out right behind him, catching him before he could keel over, keeping him steady. "Mr. Denham!"

"Thanks, kid. I'm oke. For such a little guy, Red really packed a wallop. That blow to the head has made me a little woozy, that's all."

Once I was sure he was firm on his feet, I let him go. "I should have shivved him when I had the chance."

"Johnny." I could see he remembered the time I'd volunteered to make Ann Darrow a widow, and he realized I was deadly serious.

Suddenly, there was a low rumbling, and the ground felt as if it was shimmying for a brief instant. Through the canopy of fronds and leaves, we could see a thin curl of off-white smoke.

"Didn't Driscoll say Kong's mountain appeared to be an ancient volcano?" Captain Englehorn asked.

Mr. Denham looked thoughtful, then nodded. "That's right, Skipper. He talked about the vents that provided enough steam so he could follow Kong without being seen."

"The islands in this part of the South Seas belong to a volcanic chain. Most of them have been inactive for centuries."

"Skipper, are these the coordinates of that chain that had become unstable?"

Captain Englehorn hesitated a moment, then nodded reluctantly. Had we gone from the frying pan into the fire? I remembered Jimmy giving him that piece of paper, and his palpable relief that we wouldn't be sailing into these waters.

"Do you think it's getting ready to erupt, Mr. Denham?"

"Nah, kid. Skull Island has been here a million years. It'll be here another million." My lover spoke with the utmost confidence. Suddenly he stumbled. "What the ...?" He bent down and brushed the lichen away. "What the he..." He caught himself just in time and shot a glance at the little girl. "... heck is this?"

Captain Englehorn stepped carefully onto the slick stone. He crouched down to examine it. "That's the kind of cleat used to secure boats to a pier. Strange metal. However old it is, it certainly isn't showing its age. No rust or wear!"

"How do you explain it, Skipper? This isn't the inhabited part of the island!"

The Skipper shrugged and rose to his feet, dusting off his hands. "An earlier civilization, no doubt." He turned to give Charlie a hand out of the lifeboat.

"The one that built the wall?" Mr. Denham looked intrigued. "Maybe there is something to Helstrom's story of a treasure here somewhere." He winked at me. "Stick with me kid; we'll be rich as Rockefeller!"

"Sure thing, Mr. Denham." It didn't matter much to me, as long as I was with him. I tied the boat to the ring, then reached down and swung Hildy across to stand beside the three men.

"Jimmy, pass those rifles here."

"I don't know how to shoot a gun, Skipper," I reminded him.

He nodded. "Jimmy, you'll take the last rifle and follow up the rear."

"Got it, Skipper." He retrieved the rifles from the bottom of the lifeboat and handed them to Captain Englehorn.

The Skipper took them and gave one to Mr. Denham. They wiped the moisture from the weapons with the tails of their shirts. "We don't want to waste what daylight we have."

"Gimme a hand with these, Smitty." Jimmy picked up the knapsacks and tossed them to me one at a time, followed by the canteens. I grabbed them out of the air and placed them at my feet. "Skipper..." Jimmy started to say. "Oh, *fuck*!" He scrambled out of the boat, knocking me back on my ass, and I stared in shock at the long, sinuous neck that rose ten feet above the placid waters of the bay.

A frond of some sea plant dangled from its mouth, which worked rhythmically chewing it. Its eyes were large and liquid, almost bovine, and it blinked as if in surprise to see us. As gracefully as it rose, it sank back into the water.

"What... what was that?"

"That was some kind of dinosaur, gentlemen," my lover said calmly. Of course, he'd seen animals like that, and worse, the last time he'd been to Skull Island.

Jimmy was pale. He glanced toward Hildy, who was staring in awe at the spot where the creature had been. "Sorry for the bad language, little girl."

"Hildy," she reminded him and smiled. "That's oke, Jimmy. I've heard worse in twelve different languages."

"Say, do you think one of us should warn Helstrom about the critters that live on this island?"

"Why would we want to do that, Jimmy?" I demanded. "You saw his reaction to the shark. And you'll notice he didn't hang around to help."

The Skipper ran his hand through his grizzled hair, and then settled his cap back on his head. "All right, let's get a move on. Carl and I will take the lead. Mr. Smith, would you mind keeping young Hildy with you?"

"Not at all, Captain. Let me help you with your pack, Hildy." It was a child-size version that Charlie had somehow rigged together. "Mr. Denham, I'll take your knapsack."

"Thanks, kid."

"Charlie has our packs and his cleaver. Are you armed?" I showed Captain Englehorn my shiv, and he nodded. None of the men who bore a rifle was encumbered with a pack; they needed to have freedom of movement.

We kept a cautious eye on the surface of the water, but no other dinosaur came to inspect us, and we started out, following the path Helstrom had taken. It would have been hard to miss that trail; he'd left crushed undergrowth and broken branches behind him.

Massive ferns, banyan trees, palms and, surprisingly, evergreens towered over us, meeting above our heads to form a canopy. It was claustrophobic. The plant life grew almost to the edge of the path, thick and dense.

The air was so humid we could have wrung buckets of water out of it, and so oppressive it felt like a foretaste of hell.

Before too long, our clothes were drenched with sweat. I blotted the stinging moisture from my eyes with a shirt sleeve. The knapsacks and canteens I had shouldered kept thumping uncomfortably against my sides.

Mr. Denham dropped back to see how we were holding up.

"The birds are really strange," Hildy told him, pointing out the flying creatures. "What are they?"

"They're not pterodactyls. Jack Driscoll told me he saw a pair near Kong's mountain." Mr. Denham didn't notice how tense I became at the mention of his one-time lover. "One tried to take Ann, and Kong mopped the floor with it, twisted its skinny neck and broke its back!" His expression became thoughtful. "He was a possessive Beast. Can't say I blame him." My lover's eyes were warm on me, and I relaxed. I was the one here with him, not Jack Driscoll. For the first time since I'd left our bunk in the small hours of the morning, I felt myself grow hard. He glanced back at the little girl. "I think those are the ones that are called archae... um... " His brow furrowed in concentration.

"Lizards with feathers," I murmured, and my lover laughed aloud and ruffled my hair.

Hildy laughed as well, lightening the tension of the situation we found ourselves in. "Pretty."

He smiled at her enthusiasm, then turned to me. "How are you doing, kid?"

"I'm doing oke, Mr. Denham. It'd be nice to have a bath, though." I rolled my shoulders, trying to get the knots out of them.

"You can say that again!" He lowered his voice. "I'd put my arm around you, but I'm sweating like a stuck pig!"

"I don't mind." But he didn't appear to hear me.

"Mr. Denham!" Jimmy had been disturbed by some noise in the brush behind us, and had called softly to him. "I think we've got some company!"

My lover tightened his grip on his rifle and started to double back on our trail. "Stay put, Johnny."

I grabbed his sleeve. "Be careful."

"Always am, kid." He rubbed his knuckles against my cheek. "Always am."

Part 4

Notes: The song Hildy sings is Them There Eyes, which hit the charts at #7 in 1931. Although the story is set in 1933, it would take a while for the latest music to reach that part of the world. Jente is Norwegian for 'girl'. For anyone interested, this link will give you an idea what banyan roots look like. (They're what Tarzan swung from, not vines.) http://www.roddyscheer.com/banyan_akaka.html The "I'd rather be in Philadelphia" quote was by W.C. Fields, in 1925 in Vanity Fair. Asked what he wanted on this tombstone, Fields stated, 'Here lies W.C. Fields. I would rather be living in Philadelphia.'

Mr. Denham and Jimmy began to walk quietly back the way we had come. I could hear a coughing grunt and the sound of brush being crushed underfoot. "Charlie, keep an eye on Hildy!" I dropped the knapsacks and canteens and headed after them.

"Hey!" she whispered, indignant, "I can keep an eye on myself! I'm very self-reliant, you know!"

"Sure you are, honey." I pulled the shiv from my pocket. "Stay with Charlie."

The two men had parted the undergrowth and were observing the cause of the noise. I peeked over Mr. Denham's shoulder and gulped. "What is that?" I kept my voice low.

The creature was the size of a caboose. Its head was ludicrous, tiny in proportion to the rest of its body. Bony triangular plates ran down its spine in twin rows. On the end of its tail was a quartet of nasty-looking spikes.

"Stegosaurus, Johnny. What they call an armored dinosaur."

I swallowed hard. I didn't know anything about dinosaurs. "What does it like for dinner, Mr. Denham?"

"It's a plant-eater, but that doesn't much matter. If it takes a swing at you with that tail, you're just as dead as if one of the big meat-eaters decides to take a bite out of you. I wonder what got it all riled up."

"I don't think I wanna find out." Jimmy was a sickly white. His eyes blinked rapidly, and his adam's apple bobbed like a yo-yo. He wiped a sweaty palm on his thigh and took a firmer grip on his rifle. This was bravery, confronting one of the things that had been the death of so many men he had known.

"It has poor eyesight. Back up slowly, and we'll beat it out of here," Mr. Denham ordered softly.

Something was pitched in our direction and just missed clipping us.

"What the...?"

"Denham! Psst, *hey* Denham!"

"Helstrom!" Mr. Denham patted my shoulder and pointed toward a towering tree-like fern that was a few yards away from us. "What are you doing up there?"

"That goddamned *thing* chased me up this tree! What took you so long?"

Jimmy's jaw had dropped. "How'd you get up there? The lowest branch has to be ten, fifteen feet up!"

"I dunno, I tell ya!" There was tension in the harsh whisper. "I seen that thing, an' it come after me. Next thing I know, I'm up this tree. I been waitin' here forever! You! Denham's Nancy-boy! You go distract it so I can get down!"

"Johnny, you move one foot toward that thing, and I'll whip your ass."

As if I believed my lover would strike me. He didn't have to tell me twice, however. Helstrom could rot up in that tree for all of me. I wasn't about to forget he was the reason we were in this jam.

"Carl!"

"Yeah, Skipper?" Mr. Denham called over his shoulder.

"What's the delay?"

"We found Helstrom. He's got himself in a tight spot."

"For the love of..." We could hear Captain Englehorn grumbling as he stared back along the trail, "Damn it all to hell!"

Jimmy licked his lips, keeping the dinosaur's movements under close scrutiny. "Those gas bombs we had on the last trip would've really come in handy about now, Mr. Denham."

"And how!"

The Skipper came to a dead halt when he reached us and saw the stego-whatever-it- was. "Well, if this isn't a fine how do you do!"

"That settles the question of telling Helstrom about the creatures that live on this island." Mr. Denham tucked his rifle in the crook of his arm, stuffed his hands in his pants pockets, and rocked back and forth on his heels, staring up at the man who was clinging precariously to the trunk. "What are we going to do about getting him down? Anyone have any suggestions?"

"Leave him there?" I offered.

Helstrom objected vehemently. He didn't find my proposal helpful.

My lover swallowed a grin and sent a wink in my direction. If I were a puppy I would have wriggled from pleasure at his approval.

Various ideas were tossed around ranging from plausible to wildly ridiculous. The dinosaur finally solved the problem itself by losing interest in the man it had treed. It turned and lumbered away, its movements graceful for such a huge beast. I said as much, and Mr. Denham grinned at me. "You think he's big, wait till you see his daddy, kid."

The Norwegian somehow managed to slide down the trunk of the fern, and a new color joined the rotted yellow-green that stained his damp clothes. He tugged his jacket into place. "I'll take one of those rifles." His gaze shied from the Skipper to Mr. Denham to Jimmy, and Helstrom reached for Jimmy's.

"Nix!" the wireless operator growled. "Put your mitts on my rifle, and I'll blow you from here to kingdom come!"

Mr. Denham gave a choke of laughter. "Jimmy, you're a seaman, not a hood! You've seen too many moving pictures when you've been on shore leave."

With the dinosaur gone, the younger man was his optimistic self again, and the corner of his mouth curled into a cheerful smirk. "Keeps me out of trouble, Mr. Denham."

"Englehorn, I'm senior officer to this man!" Helstrom griped. "Order him to give me the gun!"

"I don't believe I will, Helstrom. However, if you don't belay your nonsense, I do believe I'll let him... er... blow you to kingdom come. Let's get back to the others. I want to find a place to camp for the night before we lose the light. The sun goes down early in these latitudes."

We returned to where Charlie and Hildy waited for us, the knapsacks and canteens beside them. They sat leaning against the shattered stump of an evergreen. The break looked fairly recent. Sap had oozed down one side, and the scent of pine filled the air, an incongruous reminder of Christmas where we would least expect it.

Hildy was sucking on what looked like a piece of bamboo. "Charlie found a stand of sugar cane! We got one for everyone. Well, except him. He can get his own." She sniffed at Helstrom.

I didn't like the look the Norwegian threw her way, and I liked even less the amount of time it took before he turned his back to her.

"Here, Johnny." Hildy handed me a stalk of sugar cane. "And here's yours, Jimmy." With a sweet smile she extended one to him.

"Thanks, Hildy." He walked back a few paces and took up a watch toward our rear. "I'm gonna keep an eye out to make sure nothing creeps up on us."

The creatures were so large they would have been hard put to take us by surprise, but if it made him more comfortable to feel his actions gave us an edge, I had no quarrel with it.

I put the end of my sugar cane in my mouth and sucked, but got nothing.

Captain Englehorn and my lover were a few yards to the fore, examining the faint path that continued on into the jungle.

"What do you make of this, Skipper?"

"It looks like some sort of paving material."

"It's not concrete or macadam. I've never seen anything like it."

"Neither have I, Carl. It's barely overgrown by the moss or whatever it is that's covering it. And look at this here!" They walked on a bit, making the odd comment, intently studying the ground.

I glanced uncertainly from them to the Norwegian to Hildy, then left them to their exploration and sat down beside the little girl. I tried sucking on the sugar cane again and still got nothing. I frowned at it and muttered a swear word under my breath.

Charlie laughed. "Like this, Johnny." He notched a hole in the length of sugar cane, raised it to his lips, and his cheeks hollowed. He swallowed and grinned around the stalk. "Now you try."

I did as he had demonstrated, and this time I was able to suck out the sweet juices. I hummed in pleasure.

"That's the ticket, Johnny!" Hildy leaned her head against my arm and stared upward dreamily. "That's so pretty."

I followed her gaze and traced the lacy patterns the sun etched through the foliage. "Yeah, it is."

"You know something, Johnny? You're my family now," she confided.

"Yeah, honey?" I said absently. Her words suddenly registered, and I dropped the cane. "Oh, no, hold on, Hildy!"

"What?" Her expression was concerned.

"I'm... I... you can't want me for family!"

"Yes, I can."

"No, you... Hildy, you're not old enough to make a decision like that."

"Yes, I am," she said with a stubborn tilt to her chin. "I'm eight years old!"

"Hildy, you're seven!"

"And a half!"

"That isn't eight."

"Well, it's *almost* eight," she pouted.

"Listen, in four years I'll be twenty-five. That doesn't make me 'almost' twenty-five!"

"Johnny, that doesn't make much sense."

No, it didn't, and I wondered if I was suffering from heatstroke; I could barely think straight. I was floored by her announcement that she wanted me to be her family. No one had ever wanted me for that before. "Hildy..."

"There's a Chinese custom," she interrupted me. "If you save someone's life, that life is yours. I belong to you, Johnny. " She said it as if it was the most logical thing in the world.

"Where did you hear that?" This conversation was taking one strange turn after another.

"Daddy told me."

I groaned. "I didn't save your life, Hildy."

"Johnny, I may be little, but I've traveled all over the South Seas with my father since before I learned how to walk." She sounded unexpectedly mature. "I know what Mai Ling planned for me, what that planter was going to do to me. White kids don't live long on that peninsula. You saved my life. You're my family now."

She had a point, and I couldn't see a way of arguing around it. I didn't think I was fit to take care of anyone, but it was obvious she thought I'd make the perfect big brother.

"All right, honey." I dropped a kiss onto her hair.

"I knew you'd see it my way." She twinkled up at me and gave my hand a light squeeze. "Kid."

"You've been listening to Mr. Denham!"

"I like him, Johnny. I think you like him, too."

"Well... well, sure, he's a good man."

Her eyes were shrewd, but she didn't say anything. Instead she started to sing softly, "'I fell in love with you first time I looked into Them there eyes.'"

"Hildy!" My jaw dropped and my eyes widened.

"Yes?" The face she raised to mine was as innocent as an angel's.

The little girl couldn't know how deep my feelings for Mr. Denham were. Even my lover didn't know.

I happened to glance up in time to catch Helstrom scowling at us. His eyes flickered between the little girl and me, and there was something in them, a kind of sick, vicious hunger, that had chills running up my spine. My hand crept into my pocket. Finally, curling his lip, he unbuttoned his trousers, took out his prick, and began to relieve himself. I angled myself to block Hildy's view.

Jimmy saw what was going on. He swore and strode over to us, squatting down to make sure the little girl was spared the spectacle of the man pissing in plain sight. Fortunately, she was distracted by the return of Captain Englehorn and my lover.

"Helstrom, come over here," the Skipper ordered, and the Norwegian hastily righted his clothing. "I want you where I can keep an eye on you. Everyone ready? Then let's move on, shall we?"

I shouldered my knapsack and my lover's, as well as our canteens. Hildy had hers. She took my left hand in a tight grip; she hadn't missed the avidness in the Norwegian's face. We fell into line and continued following the barely perceptible path.

After a couple of hours, Hildy began to wilt, and I scooped her up. Before I could drape her over my shoulder, she was out like a light.

****

For the last hour I'd been carrying her. My shirt was plastered to me from where she clung, and my hair hung in sweaty tangles, having escaped from the tie. She was drooling against the side of my neck, and her lips made little kissing movements every so often.

We entered a clearing, and the contrast to the closed-in space we'd just left was remarkable. It almost felt cool.

"Want me to take her, kid?" My lover had his hands on her waist, ready to transfer her weight to his arms.

"No, you need to have your hands free so you can be ready to shoot." I staggered, and his eyes narrowed.

"Skipper, I think it might be time to take a breather. What do you say?"

Captain Englehorn glanced back at us. "Good idea, Carl. This clearing is a good place to stop. We'll take a break here and have some breakfast. Charlie, see what you have in your knapsack, all right?"

I put Hildy down, and she knuckled the sleep out of her eyes and yawned. "Johnny? Is something wrong? Why did we stop?"

"Breakfast, honey."

She tugged me down to her level. "I have to... you know."

"You can't go alone." I didn't want to frighten her, but there were... things in the brush.

"I go with the little jente." Helstrom was reaching for Hildy.

I knocked his hand away from her. "No."

"Listen, Nancy-boy..."

"You don't have a rifle, Helstrom," my lover said easily, stepping between us. "I'll go with her, kid."

"Thanks, Mr. Denham."

They left, and I stared into Helstrom's pale blue eyes and waited to see how he would react. He raised a fist as if to strike me, and Captain Englehorn's hand shot out to seize his wrist.

"You might want to keep your hands to yourself, Helstrom." The anger in the Skipper's eyes belied his mild tone. "I'm a very easy-going fella, but you know Denham. He can be a hot head. And for some reason, he doesn't like you."

With a pained grunt, the Norwegian twisted his wrist free and grabbed a tin that the Chinese cook was handing out. He went to the far end of the clearing, muttering under his breath, a sullen expression on his face.

Among the provisions Charlie had been able to throw into the packs were tins of various meats and fruits, and packages of hardtack. He'd forgotten a can opener in his rush, but that was oke; I had my shiv, and that worked fine.

Hildy had returned and settled herself between Jimmy and Charlie. I opened a tin of fruit and handed it to her.

"Drink the juice when you're finished, honey. It will give you some extra energy."

"Thanks, Johnny." She smiled gratefully.

"Go easy on the supplies, men," the Skipper advised. "We don't know how long these will have to last us, and until we can find a reliable source of food and fresh water, we're going to be on strict rations."

"Me too, Skipper?" Hildy asked.

"You're a little girl, Hildy. I don't think you eat enough for there to be a problem." The Skipper peered into his own tin and sighed. "Salt pork. Why did it have to be salt pork?"

"That ain't fair!" Helstrom complained from where he sat. He was using his fingers to scoop out the contents of his tin. Something about that bothered me, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

"It isn't fair that we've been marooned on this island because of you," the Skipper snapped, losing patience with the man. "You were the one who changed our course; no one else on board knew the coordinates to Skull Island!"

"I don't know what you're takin' about, Englehorn." The Norwegian's eyes darted away from his.

"I became ill at a very opportune time for you, Helstrom. What did you do while I was laid up in my cabin? Slip into the wheelhouse to alter our course by a fraction of a degree every night, until we were headed the way you wanted us to go? It wouldn't take much."

"I don't know what you're talkin' about!" Helstrom insisted stubbornly, his eyes becoming hooded.

"Don't you? You convinced the men it was my plan to return to Skull Island. Your intention was to take over my ship, to once again have a ship of your own. The only reason why you didn't succeed was because the men decided they'd be better off with no skipper than with you!" Captain Englehorn spat on the ground and started to stalk toward him.

Charlie caught his hand. "You sit here, honorable one. Charlie no be happy if that round eyes give you indigestion."

The Skipper gripped his hand and sat down next to him. A little more relaxed, he took a sip from his canteen and passed it to his friend to share.

I observed them for a moment, then went to join my lover.

Mr. Denham was sitting a little away from the others. I'd gotten my second wind and was feeling better. I crossed my legs and sank down beside him, and offered him a slice of peach from the tin I had selected. He looked around quickly, and when he saw that no one appeared to be paying us any mind, he dipped his head, parted his lips and took it from my fingers.

"Mr. Denham, what are you..."

He grasped my wrist to keep me from withdrawing my hand, and I stared in disbelief as he took my fingers into his mouth one at a time, sucking the juice from each one. He'd never done anything so blatant around other people. My prick hardened, and I could feel the heat in my face. I shifted, hoping my arousal wasn't noticeable.

"I'm glad you walked into that saloon that day, Johnny Smith." He bent his knee and rested his forearm on it, never releasing his grip on me. His thumb rubbed idle circles on the thin skin above the pulse in my wrist. "Say, is that even your real name?"

"Of course it is, Mr. Denham. I'd never lie to you."

"You wouldn't? Fair enough." He regarded my fading blush pensively. "Tell me, then, what do you think of Kong's island, Johnny?"

I'd torn a page out of an old magazine once, to stuff a hole in my shoe, and I remembered what I'd read. I pretended to pick at a loose thread on my sleeve, hiding a grin. "On the whole, I think I'd rather be in Philadelphia." I risked a quick peek through my lashes, to find he appeared troubled. "What's wrong?"

His voice was very low. "You know the odds of us getting off Skull Island aren't good?"

"I know," I said quietly.

"You're in a tight spot because of me, John."

"Because you took me with you when the Venture sailed from New York? Mr. Denham, you've been nothing but... but swell to me from the very beginning. I wouldn't have missed these last months, even the time I was seasick, for the world. And... and if these *are* my last months, then they've made my whole life worth while."

"Aw, kid..."

There was a rumbling, and the ground shimmied. It felt a little stronger than the last tremblor at the bay. Reactions varied, cries, swearing, nervous laughter, audible gulps.

Captain Englehorn cleared his throat and said brusquely, "All right, no point dallying here." He studied his watch before replacing it in his vest pocket. "Let's be on our way."

****

Sometime in the afternoon we caught a lucky break. We found a banyan tree whose roots grew close enough together to form a shelter. Hopefully, it would also provide us with some protection from the prehistoric creatures who called Skull Island home. As well as the armored dinosaur, we'd seen a few of the great beasts that Mr. Denham assured us were harmless except for their tremendous size. We'd frozen in place until they'd passed us, but we had heard others crashing their way through the underbrush in the distance.

"Skipper, I'm going to scout out the lay of the land, see if I can find some fresh water, maybe a game trail."

"Good idea, Carl. If you do, set some snares. I'd like to keep the tinned goods as a back-up if it's at all possible," he reminded us. "Go to the East." He tossed him a compass, and my lover's raised eyebrow questioned him silently. "We'll be following the path, but don't worry. That's a spare. I have no intention of getting lost, and I don't want you to, either. Be back before nightfall, all right?"

"Aye, aye, Skipper. Johnny, come with me."

"Oke, Mr. Denham." I propped our knapsacks against the base of the tree, but kept the canteens looped around my neck. "Hildy, I want you to stay here." She cast a nervous glance toward Helstrom. "Jimmy," I lowered my voice. "Keep Hildy close to you."

"Sure thing, Smitty. Because of ..." he nodded toward the Norwegian.

"Yeah. The Skipper said it. Helstrom's bad news. Whatever you do, make sure you don't let him anywhere near her."

A fleeting look at the Norwegian and the way he was eyeing the little girl, and Jimmy nodded again. He swung his rifle to his shoulder. "I'm gonna look for stuff to make us beds. Hildy, you wanna come with me?"

She nodded happily, relieved.

"Would you mind gathering some wood for a fire while you're with Jimmy, Miss Hildy?" Captain Englehorn asked as he paced off the perimeter of the camp.

"Aye, aye, Skipper!" She gave a skip and caught Jimmy's free hand, and they left, making sure they gave Helstrom a wide berth.

Captain Englehorn stared around the camp a final time, then nodded to himself. "Helstrom, I want you to come with Charlie and me. We're going to head west and see what we can find in that direction."

"Someone should stay in camp an'... " The Norwegian's eyes lingered on the spot where Jimmy and Hildy had disappeared, and his expression became sly. "An' keep an eye on things."

"With *us*, Helstrom! Charlie, you have your cleaver?" The Chinaman nodded. The Skipper checked the chamber under his rifle's hammer, then cradled it in his arm. He spoke around the pipe stem in his teeth. "Very good. Let's go."

"But I'm a captain!" Helstrom protested, reluctantly following them.

"Yeah, one who couldn't get a boat," Mr. Denham snorted. "I wonder how he lost that bark of his. Let's move out, kid. Say, what's that tune?"

I'd been whistling the same song Hildy had sung earlier. I chopped it off. "Uh..."

"Never mind." We walked in silence for a few minutes, and then he stopped and faced me. "The fact of the matter, kid, is that I really just wanted to get you away from the others."

"You know that's always jake with me, Mr. Denham."

"I do know." He tipped my chin up and kissed me, taking me by surprise once again. It was brief but thorough, and when he was finished I knew the grin on my face was sappy. He looked up at the sun. "We'd better get moving. The Skipper will have kittens if we come back empty-handed."

But instead of moving on, he ran the pad of his thumb over my lower lip, which felt swollen from his kiss, then brought his thumb to his mouth and licked it. I leaned toward him, eyes closed and lips parted, and he kissed me once more.

"Oh, god, I..."

"What, Johnny?"

I gave him a lopsided grin. "I think we'd better get going."

For a second I thought he was going to challenge me, but then he touched my hair and smiled, his smile as lopsided as mine had been, and we started walking toward the east again.

We must have gone a mile or so when I suddenly caught a whiff of something and sniffed the air.

"Are you trying to hint I need a bath, kid?"

Only if I got to scrub his back. "No, Mr. Denham. I thought I smelled... I dunno, some kind of fruit?"

"Hey, bananas! Well, what d' you know!" We stared up and *up*. The stand of trees rose over thirty feet high. "I don't remember seeing banana trees the last time I was here."

"Maybe you were preoccupied with something else, Mr. Denham?" I teased gently, thinking of King Kong.

"Maybe you're right, kid," he chuckled. "Think you can get up that tree and cut a bunch down for us?"

"Duck soup, Mr. Denham." Although I didn't think any such thing.

"On our way back, then. No sense dragging them along with us now. I want to explore a little further." He took a bearing on that spot so we could find it on our way back, and we pushed on through the undergrowth.

Part 5

Notes: A grand is a thousand dollars. The Cyclone roller coaster that Johnny rode opened in Coney Island in 1927. Black Tuesday was October 29, 1929, the day the stock market crashed, signaling the start of the Great Depression. Quiff is slang for slut or cheap prostitute. Johnny didn't have much regard for his old man's lady friends. Jiminy Crickets has been used as an expression of surprise or bewilderment since at least 1848.

A constant drone assaulted our ears, and it abruptly occurred to me that the dry, high-pitched sound was caused by the creeping, crawling, leaping, slithering inhabitants of the brush.

I had a thing about creepy-crawlies, and it wasn't a good thing. The mere thought of one of those things finding its way under my trouser leg tied my stomach in knots and made my skin feel as if it was ready to do some crawling of its own.

"Johnny, are you listening to me?"

I forced my mind away from the image of insects the size of the rats that ran in the sewers of New York. "Sorry, Mr. Denham. You were saying?"

"What's the lowdown with Hildy?"

I'd wondered if he'd noticed. "She's kind of... well, adopted me."

"Say again?"

"She has this idea that I saved her life, so now it belongs to me." I waited for him to laugh at the notion that I could be responsible for anyone.

He just looked thoughtful. "The Chinese believe that. Kind of makes sense, if you ask me."

"Not you too, Mr. Denham," I protested. "I'm no good at taking care of myself. How can I take care of a little girl?"

"You don't give yourself enough credit, kid. You'd do a great job." The smile that lit his face was warm. "But if you want some help, I wouldn't mind."

That would make us a... family. I was so astonished I couldn't get a word out. His smile deepened, and he ran a knuckle over the curve of my cheek, then pulled me against his side, and we proceeded in companionable silence.

The path began to narrow, and my lover took the lead, the rifle at the ready, only to come to a dead halt. "Holy smoke!"

"What is it?" I reached for my shiv.

"A pool, Johnny!" He stepped aside so I could see. "And from the looks of it, a thermal pool!" Thin streamers of mist rose from the surface. "We're going to have a bath!" He paced off the area and made sure it was safe, then put the rifle down and toed off his shoes. In a matter of seconds he had stripped off his clothes and jumped in. "Ah, this is great, kid! Come on in!"

He didn't have to tell me twice. I dropped the canteens, then kicked off my shoes, unbuttoned my trousers, and pulled my shirt over my head. Somewhere along the way I'd lost the tie that held my hair back. I'd find something to make due after my bath. I went into the pool.

The water was warmer than I'd expected, and it took a couple of seconds before I grew accustomed to the temperature. I submerged myself, and surfaced to the feel of strong fingers in my hair, massaging my scalp. I made a pleased sound at how good it felt.

"Like that, kid?"

"Oh, yes!" I whimpered.

He raised the hair at the back of my neck and ran his teeth over the skin, then bit down gently and sucked. I whimpered again, and he let me go. "Damn. That's going to leave a mark! I'm sorry."

"Don't be." I turned and carded my fingers through the pelt of brown that covered his chest. "My hair will cover it. And anyway, I like having your mark on me."

I didn't know what he would have said to that. At that point I was almost overcome by the heat of the pool, and I staggered. He caught me before I lost my balance and went under. "You're looking flushed, Johnny. We'd better get washed up and get out."

I nodded, not wanting to tell him that I was actually feeling a little faint.

The bottom of the thermal pool was sandy, and we scooped up handfuls to scour away the sweat and dirt of the last hours. Once that was done, we washed our clothes, climbed out of the water, and laid them over bushes to dry. In that heat, it wouldn't take long.

Nearby, dappled by the sun splashing through the leaves, was a patch of grass that looked and felt like lush velvet. I finger-combed my damp hair as I studied it to see if it harbored any unwelcome inhabitants, then lay down, stretched my arms over my head, and gradually began to feel cooler. Mr. Denham settled himself beside me, and we closed our eyes against the glare of the sun.

"There's something I've been curious about, Johnny." He had one arm folded behind his head while his other hand absently fondled my hip.

"What, Mr. Denham?" I frowned. The sun seemed to have suddenly gone behind the clouds, but when I opened my eyes, the sky was cloudless.

"You knocked Helstrom's hand away from Hildy, and you told Jimmy to take her with him. How come?"

I cleared my throat, my attention brought back to him. "Remember when we went to give Mai Ling the money we'd gathered for Hildy, and we thought we heard someone in her house with her?"

"Sure. We must have been mistaken. She said no one was there."

"Yeah. Well, she lied." I'd persuaded her to tell me the truth. "It was Helstrom. From what I could learn, he'd been trying to get Hildy's father so drunk he'd make him the little girl's 'guardian'. The old man may have been a rummy, but he was sharp enough to know that if he did that, Hildy would wind up..." Like me. "... as a... a ..."

"A whore?"

"Yeah." I looked away from him. "Peterson threatened to shoot Helstrom's balls off if he ever went near his daughter."

I debated telling Mr. Denham what else I had learned.

After Mai Ling had reluctantly given me that information, I'd gone to fetch Hildy. She'd been lying on a filthy bed that smelled of stale sex. I'd examined her quickly and had been relieved to find she hadn't been... that she was all right. I wasted minutes trying to wake her up before I realized she'd been doped. Finally I just picked her up and carried her out of the cramped bedroom. We had to go back through the main room, and I thought I might have to... persuade... Mai Ling not to give me a hard time. Instead, I found the Malay woman lying on the dirt floor, her throat cut from ear to ear. The only sound in the room was the buzzing of the flies, black and biting, that were already gathering, drawn by the blood that pooled under her.

I was pretty sure I knew who had killed Mai Ling, but I didn't have any concrete proof, and I didn't think Malay cops were any more on the level than the bulls I'd run up against back in New York, so I took it on the lam and got Hildy out of there and onto the Venture. If any of the Malay woman's neighbors saw me leaving, they weren't likely to rat me out. In Dakang, in most places in those islands, anyone who poked his nose into things that didn't concern him was liable to wind up in the same condition as Mai Ling.

In the end I decided not to say anything.

He had turned on his side and was leaning on his elbow, waiting for me to continue.

"Mai Ling wasn't going to give Hildy to Helstrom. Why should she let him have the girl for nothing, when she planned on getting a grand for her?"

Mr. Denham whistled. "That's a lot of dough!"

"I told you the planter liked little girls, the littler the better, and he was willing to pay. I hope someone cuts his prick off and shoves it up his ass someday!"

"Johnny!" It always seemed to surprise him when my violent streak came to the fore. "I can understand you being sickened by someone like that." He suddenly reached out and brushed the hair back off my forehead. "Did you have a little sister?"

"I have no kin, Mr. Denham."

"Hmmm." He said nothing more, and when I glanced at him, his eyes were closed again. There was a furrow between his brows, but I assumed it was from the stray sunbeam that seemed to have found him. I nudged him, and he grunted and rolled over. I relaxed and drifted into a light doze.

****

I was dreaming of the grey autumn day when I'd learned that my old man had not only jumped out the thirtieth floor window of a downtown skyscraper, but had neglected to pay the fees to the school I'd been attending since I was five. Mr. Phipps, the headmaster who had a penchant for brunets, which had spared me his attentions, had reluctantly dismissed me. At the age of fifteen, I'd found myself facing the world alone and with no means to support myself, since the country had been plummeted into the Great Depression.

Before the dream could wind to its dark conclusion, I was yanked abruptly out of that unpleasant state, and I jack-knifed into a sitting position, my head whipping from one direction to another as I scanned the area.

Mr. Denham had the rifle cocked and ready to fire. "What is it, kid?"

I hunched a shoulder. "All of a sudden it felt as if... I dunno... as if I was being watched." Tensely I peered into the dim light that filtered through the trees and brush that surrounded the pool, but I saw nothing. I lowered myself slowly back onto the grass. "I must be getting antsy, I guess, Mr. Denham. I'm sorry. I thought my nerves were better than this."

"Your nerves are fine." He put the rifle down, but I noticed that he kept it close at hand. "I've been watching you while you sleep." I turned my head to stare at him, and he burst into laughter at the disbelieving expression on my face. "There's no one else here, is there?"

"Well, no. But..."

"Johnny, I haven't been able to take my eyes off you." My lover moved closer to me and ran his palm up and down my thigh, going a little higher each time. "You know something? I've never seen you in the sunlight. The hair on your body is so fair, so fine, it almost looks as if you don't have any at all," he murmured. "Except for here." I gasped as he drew a finger over the curls that clustered at my groin. "My own hoard of gold."

My mouth went dry, and my prick twitched. "I'm not a girl," I said gruffly.

"I noticed." He waggled his eyebrows lasciviously, and I would have smiled only he chose that moment to circle the pad of his forefinger around my nipple. "Doesn't make it any less true. I wasn't what you might call a romantic kind of guy. I never brought a dame flowers or candy, or wrote poetry about her golden hair, or blue, blue eyes." His lips a whisper from mine, he was threading his fingers through *my* golden hair, staring into *my* blue eyes.

It took me a second to catch my breath. "I meant, you don't have to sweet talk me, Mr. Denham."

"I think I do." He was half lying over me now, a hand on my knee, gently parting my legs. "Know what's funny, Johnny? I never wanted to sweet talk a woman. Never really had the inclination; never wondered about it either. Not until I met you and..." His smile was self-conscious, and to my surprise, dull color crept up his cheekbones to his hairline. He wound a lock of my hair around his finger, unwound it, wound it again. "Would you tell me something, kid?"

"Well, sure, Mr. Denham."

He searched my eyes intently. "Do you remember the first day I met you, Johnny? I brought you back to my rooming house. I told myself it was just because you were down on your luck and needed a break."

"I really was in a bad way." My nose had been broken, and I hadn't had a decent meal in too long. I didn't count what the missions grudgingly dished out The dogma that went with the thin soup and stale bread made them almost unpalatable. On top of that, if Mr. Denham hadn't placated the saloon keeper with a dollar bill, I'd have been looking at a stretch up the river for trying to steal some pickled eggs. My stomach still churned at the thought of how that day could have turned out.

"I didn't expect you to do what you did."

I'd have done anything for him. I still would. "What I did wasn't a big deal."

"It was a big deal." He became lost in a reverie. "You knelt on the floor in front of me, and you took my prick in your mouth, and you sucked me and licked me and did things I didn't know were possible until I came, and then you swallowed. I liked you doing that, Johnny. I liked it lot."

"I'm glad." I lightly touched his cheek, feeling the stubble under my fingertips. "So did I."

"But you... uh... you never did it again."

I felt color heat my own cheeks. "You never told me to."

"I never... jesus, mary and joseph, kid! I never had to tell you to make love with me either, but... Oh, fuck." He stared at me, the color of his eyes grown even darker with shock, and I wondered what I had done wrong. "It just dawned on me. You've never... never once touched me!"

I let out a breath of relief. That was just plain silly. "Mr. Denham, I've touched you plenty of times. I touch you *all* the time!"

"Not sexually, Johnny. Not unless I've touched you first. Why?" It was a cry of distress. "Have you even liked what I've done to you?"

"Of *course* I've liked what you've done! How can you ask me that? You're the *only* one who's ever... that I've ever...!" How had this gotten so twisted around? I sat up, hesitant to reveal my feelings, but knowing he deserved nothing less than the truth. "Mr. Denham, I know what I am, what I've had to do in the past. I know you're happy with me now, that we're partners, like you said." My voice was shaky, and I had to pause a moment to take a steadying breath. "But I know just as well that there'll be a time when you *won't* want me any longer. I was afraid that if I told you I wanted things I really couldn't have, you'd... " My voice broke, and I looked away. "I just didn't want that time to come any sooner than it had to."

"Aw, Johnny..." He cupped my cheek to turn my face, but I wouldn't meet his eyes. I jerked free and scrambled to my feet, needing to put some distance between us, or else I'd be begging him to keep me, as a lover, as a pet, as whatever he wanted me to be.

"When we first met, Mr. Denham, you told me you weren't like this, that you liked girls. I never expected this to... "

"Sometimes I talk too much." He was beside me before I realized it, and I found myself yanked into his arms. His lips were a hairsbreadth from mine. "Kiss me," he ordered. He took my hand and dragged it down the front of his body to where his prick lay flaccid against his thigh. "Touch me."

I stroked my fingers over him and was gratified at how quickly he hardened. I cradled his balls in my palm, weighing them, rolling them, testing their texture with my thumb, and he moaned.

"All you had to do was tell me," I whispered against his mouth.

"*Not* because I tell you. Because you *want* to!"

"Ah, Mr. Denham, I always want to! You letting me know that this is what you want as well... well, that's just icing on the cake!"

I had become so hard that my prick ached with the need to be stroked. I wound my arms around his neck and brought myself flush against his body. He slid his thigh between my legs and rubbed it against the vee of my body. I sifted my fingers through his hair and brought our mouths together, and I traced the seam of his mouth. When he opened to me, I slid my tongue past his lips to glide against his tongue. I could taste the peach I had fed him earlier.

His hands dropped down to cup my ass. The hair that dusted his thigh teased my balls and the sensitive skin behind them, and he urged me to ride him harder. I moaned into his mouth. "Let me... Please let me..."

My lover groaned and stepped out of my embrace. "No. Let *me*!" He crowded me back against a tree that bordered the pool and knelt before me. I watched, stunned, unable to believe what was happening. In our time together, he had never done this, never given any indication that he might even want to.

A drop of pre come beaded at the tip of my prick. His tongue flicked out to gather it up and taste it. I wondered if he would like my taste, and then he answered my unasked question; he hummed in approval and swallowed me to the root, sucking hard. I flinched when his teeth scored over my shaft, and he let me slip out of his mouth. "Sorry, kid."

"'Sokay, Mr. Denham." I stroked his hair. "Cover your teeth with your lips."

"Like this?" He took me back into his mouth, this time careful not to scrape me.

"Ye... oh, yes!"

His tongue curled around the crown, probed the slit, danced over the large vein on the underside, but the touches were too light, too teasing. I needed...

"More. Please!" I was finding it difficult to breathe.

He sat back on his heels, freeing me momentarily, and I groaned. His grin was smug. "You bet, Johnny." He wasn't experienced, but then neither was I. No one had ever done this for me.

My fingertips kneaded his scalp, and I rocked forward. Every once in a while I'd thrust too deep into his throat and he'd gag. Every once in a while he'd forget to watch his teeth, and I'd whimper, but when he remembered, his mouth was like hot, wet silk encasing my prick.

He tickled my balls, then slid a finger past them and dipped into my hole.

"M... Mr. Denham!" My breathing was a harsh whine, and that was the best warning I could give him before I started to come. He pulled off and milked my spit-slicked shaft, catching some of the creamy fluid that exploded from me in his hand. The back of my head hit the tree, and I closed my eyes, seeing rockets and pin-wheels and roman candles.

When I opened my eyes again, he was panting and staring intently at the liquid that coated his palm. He touched the tip of his tongue to it, his dark eyes snaring mine, and then he started lapping at it.

"You taste good, Johnny," he said hoarsely, and my legs almost gave out from under me.

He surged to his feet and leaned full length against me, which kept me from sagging to the jungle floor. The urge to pour out my feelings was overpowering, but his mouth on mine kept me silent. I tasted myself on his tongue, and my breath hitched in a tiny moan.

His lips brushed over my cheek to my ear, and he nuzzled and nipped at it. "Why didn't I ever do this before?"

I didn't know how to answer that. Instead, I reached for him. "Mr. Denham, you didn't..."

"I did, kid." He looked down at my legs, a little bemused, and I realized there was some semen spattered on them, as well as on the tree behind me and on the ground. He'd jacked off while he'd pleasured me? "You were a bit distracted, Johnny." He tugged a lock of my hair.

"I must have been. I didn't even hear you come."

"You didn't, did you?" He sounded proud of himself, and I had to smile. It had been some time since he'd made me climax so hard I'd lost my senses. "I think you had to be the only one who didn't hear me. I made enough noise to scare off the birds. Or whatever the things that live in the trees here are."

"I should have taken care of that for you," I murmured.

"Johnny, you always take care of me. It was high time for me to repay the favor. Now let's get cleaned up again." But before we went back into the pool, he pulled me into his arms once more. Another aspect of our relationship that was changing. Before we'd left Dakang, he'd seldom wanted to hold me, or be held, for that matter. "You... you're really something special, you know that, kid? Last year I didn't know you existed, and now, I don't think I can live without you! Fuck it, John Smith. I don't care what the rest of the world thinks. We're going to be together for the rest of our lives."

"But..."

"No." His hands were warm on my shoulders, and he gave me a little shake. "No 'buts'. It's you and me, partners, from now on. Is that getting through that thick skull of yours?"

I leaned forward and kissed him. "Loud and clear, Mr. Denham." I held on tight for a moment longer, then released him, but again he didn't let me go.

"And the next time, you won't wait until you think it's what I want; you'll touch me because it's what *you* want?"

"I promise." I looked into my lover's dark eyes. Skull Island was a dangerous place, and he had as much as admitted we'd never get off it. We might not have much time, but what there was *would* be ours. I cleared my throat. "You said something about getting cleaned up?"

His palm stroked down my arm to my hand, his fingers closed around it, and he squeezed. He led me into the pool, which oddly enough, felt warmer. We stayed in only long enough to wash the residue of our passion from our bodies, and then got out.

Our clothes were dry for the most part, and we used the tails of our shirts to wipe off the moisture. I finishing buttoning my trousers and looped the canteens over my shoulders, then stepped into a shoe. "Mr. Denham, have you seen my other shoe?"

He looked around and pointed toward the other end of the pool. "There, Johnny." He began to laugh. "How did it get all the way over there?"

"It must have landed there when I kicked off my shoes. I was in a bit of a rush." I hobbled across the grassy area. "You were naked, and I was in a hurry to join you." I whistled innocently and slid my foot into my shoe. My hair fell into my eyes as I finishing lacing it up, and I pushed the hair impatiently behind my ear. There was a flowering vine growing nearby, and I broke off a thin, flexible stem. I stripped off the leaves and captured my hair in both hands to tie it back, when something floating on the water's surface caught my eye.

"C... Carl!" I backed away from it, away from the other carcasses that were at the pool's edge.

He was at my side, his arm around me. "What the...? Jesus!" He was as horrified as I was. "Oh, my god! Oh, my dear god!"

"What?" I'd never heard panic in his voice before, and it scared me.

"This wasn't a thermal pool!"

"But... but the water was warm!"

"Too warm! A fissure must have opened up on the bottom, allowing steam to escape from the island's core. This was a regular pond! Look!"

More bodies of fish and other creatures that had made the pond their home were floating belly up, the scales and hides peeling off.

"The water did feel hotter the second time we went in."

"The temperature must have been rising gradually. If we hadn't gotten out when we did..."

The pool was beginning to bubble, and steam rose like a blanket from it. My stomach heaved at the thought of how close we had come to being boiled alive.

"Talk about your close calls!" My lover was trying not to appear disturbed by it; after all he had a reputation of looking death in the face and making it turn tail and run. But he was gnawing on his lower lip.

"Why didn't we see the bodies?"

"Who knows, kid?" He picked up the rifle. "Maybe it was just because we were busy with... other things." He forced a smile to his lips and pulled me against him. "We probably didn't smell them because they were literally cooked!"

I held him closely. "Mr. Denham, you're shaking."

"No, Johnny. *You're* shaking." His arms tightened, and he whispered against my hair, "It's oke, kid. We're alive!"

Yes, we were.

"Let's scram out of here."

****

We didn't waste any time getting away from that spot, but we hadn't gone more than a few hundred yards when the ground began to shake, only this time there was a deafening roar as well, like a hundred freight trains barreling out of control.

A couple of years before Black Tuesday, when the stock market crashed, and my old man did a swan dive out a skyscraper, he'd been in one of his rare, expansive moods, and had taken me to Coney Island, where he'd let me ride the Cyclone while he dallied with his latest quiff.

Its drops and hairpin turns were nothing compared to the roller coaster ride Mr. Denham and I were on now.

The ground seemed to rise up to terrifying heights. Trees toppled, torn up by the roots or snapped like twigs. Abruptly the ground fell out from beneath us. We were flung forward into a scrub brush. As quickly as the quake had started, it stopped.

"Damn," Mr. Denham growled as he spat leaves from his mouth and plucked them from his hair. "Nothing like an earth tremor to scare the piss out of you!" Involuntarily, my eyes dropped to his crotch, which was dry. "It's a figure of speech, kid," he grinned wryly.

It almost hadn't been for me. "Are... are you oke?" I asked cautiously from where I had landed between his legs.

"Yeah, just watch where you put that knee, kid." It was a feeble attempt at a joke.

I backed off my lover carefully and rose to my feet, then extended a hand to help him up as well. My foot skidded out from under me, and I landed hard on my back. "Ooof!" The breath was knocked out of me, and I landed on our canteens.

"Johnny, what happened?"

"That's... that's what I'd like to... like to know! What'd I st... step on?"

My lover was studying the ground. "Holy smoke! Would you take a look at that?"

I levered myself up and blinked dazedly as I tried to see what had his attention. "That looks like a... Is that a banana peel?"

"I'll tell the world, kid!" Mr. Denham was crouching down, carefully fingering the discoloring skin. He whistled between his teeth. "It's the length of my entire arm!"

The fruit had been bitten off about three quarters of the way down, and then the banana had apparently been tossed aside. "I don't think I want to find out what was eating it!" I shivered, thinking of King Kong. I must have said something aloud.

"I don't think that's a problem. Don't worry, Johnny." He smiled at me and stood up, and this time he extended a hand to help me to my feet. "There was only one Kong."

"You want to put that in writing, Mr. Denham?"

"Don't you trust me, Johnny?"

Only with my life. "Sure... what was that?" I spun around. It sounded like whimpering.

"Let's go take a look see." There was excitement in his voice, and he didn't wait for me to answer. He scooped up the rifle and grabbed my hand, pulling me along after him.

I was winded from my fall, but not too winded to follow him. Branches slapped at me, and I had to keep an arm across my face to avoid having my eye poked out. The trail curved, and as we rounded it, he skidded to a halt. I ran into his back. "Ooof...!"

He staggered, then steadied us both. "Shhh!"

We were on a small plateau. He eased close to the edge where a gouge revealed damage done by that last quake.

"Carl! Be careful!"

He winked at me, then dropped to a knee, braced himself on his hands, and peered down. I balanced my weight carefully on his shoulder and followed his gaze.

Below us was a bog. On the outskirts were cat-tails and strange-looking reeds whose ancestry had to date back to prehistory. Grasses had grown over its surface, disguising the deadly spot, probably luring unsuspecting creatures to their doom, thinking they were crossing solid ground, finding differently too late, when it gave way beneath them.

A large area had been disturbed, revealing the true nature of the quagmire, and trapped in the center was a creature that resembled an ape. A HUGE ape. It was hard to discern his color because he was covered with the muck of the bog. He was struggling futilely to free his legs but only succeeded in sinking deeper.

"Well, what d' you know? A baby Kong!"

"*Baby*? Mr. Denham, that thing must be eight feet high!"

"That's just what you can see of him above the quicksand, Johnny. He's got to be more like twelve!"

The ape-like creature chose that moment to look up at us. His eyes were filled with almost human fear.

"Aw, hell, kid." My lover's expression was rueful. "I can't leave him there. I can't do that to him, do you understand? I owe his old man!" He slid down the side of the plateau, being careful to avoid the edge of the bog, and I skidded down after him. "See that chunk of rock that's sinking? It must have broken off. I'll bet he was standing on it, and that's how he wound up in the quicksand. What can we...? There! That dead tree there! If we can push it over, it'll give Little Kong something to hoist himself up with."

The creature's mouth was open in a grimace of terror, and his teeth seemed the size of tombstones. My mouth was dry with anxiety. "Oke, Mr. Denham. I just hope you know what we're doing."

"Johnny, you don't have to..."

"I'm not going to let you go into danger alone." The tree was on the other side of the bog. I made sure there was plenty of space between us and Kong's offspring as we skirted it and approached the tree. "Jiminy Crickets! Talk about being dead!" That close, it was easy to see the tree had been lightning blasted. "This should be a push over!" I tried to joke.

Mr. Denham began to speak to the young animal, hoping to calm him, I supposed, or maybe just to calm us. "Hello there, young fella. My name's Denham. I'm the know-it-all who got your old man in dutch. I took him from this island where he was king and sailed him across the ocean, and it's my fault the old boy is dead. See, I introduced him to a skirt, and he fell for her. Literally. You can't trust dames, know what I mean?" He was rambling, and I wondered if he was as scared as I was. "Oke, now we're going to help you, youngster. Just take it easy and stop struggling."

Maybe it was the soothing tone of my lover's voice. Maybe Little Kong actually understood him. For whatever reason, the young animal stopped fighting the pull of the muck, and stopped sinking as well. He watched with interest, the intelligence in his dark eyes almost human.

"Put your back into it, kid." Mr. Denham grunted from the exertion.

It took a few tries, but we finally tipped the tree over, and it fell crosswise in front of the young Kong. He flinched and blinked, and began to sink again, but he seemed to realize that he could use the tree to get himself free. He braced his arms on it and pushed himself up. Inch by agonizing inch he fought the quicksand to free himself, and I stared in unwilling fascination. A heavy hand dropped on my shoulder, and I jumped.

"C'mon, kid, let's give him some room!"

"Uh... good idea!"

We scrambled back up the plateau and watched from a safe distance. Soon the creature had himself out of the morass and balanced on the downed tree trunk. He stood there swaying on unsteady legs for a minute, then shook some of the muck off and gazed up at us. His eyes were wide and curious and... something else that I couldn't name.

"Attaboy!" my lover cheered, then frowned. "Don't just stand there!" he exhorted the young animal. "Get off that thing before you fall back in!"

Little Kong stepped onto solid ground and sat down heavily, grunting as he apparently hurt his ass. The aggrieved look on his face was almost human.

I chuckled. "Maybe we'd better be going now, Mr. Denham."

He paused for one last look behind. "Good luck to you, Little Kong."

The ape was still watching us as we faded back into the brush.

Part 6

Notes: In order to prevent the spread of syphilis, before a marriage license was issued, a blood test was required, with a three-day waiting period for the results. Maryland was the only state on the East coast where this wasn't the law, so couples in a hurry to tie the knot went there. Tarzan the Ape Man, with Johnny Weissmuller, appeared on the silver screen in 1932.

Carl Denham's POV

For a supposedly smart fella, it had taken me a long time to realize what was what.

We were making our way through the almost impenetrable undergrowth of the tropical forest after helping the little Kong free himself from quicksand. Johnny was slightly ahead of me, and I was able to study him without being observed myself.

I'd always been considered a man's man. Aside from taking risks that had gotten me labeled a lunatic while I was behind the camera, I fished the deep sea sports fish, hunted big game in Africa, went to bare-knuckle boxing matches where blood flowed as freely as the punches thrown, and could knock back bootleg hooch with the best of 'em. And I chased skirts, even though catching them always turned out to be more trouble than it was worth.

Then I'd met John Smith. He was blond and blue-eyed, saved from being too pretty by a broken nose. I didn't think he was much above seventeen, although I later learned he was actually older than that by a few years. Under the shabby clothes he wore he was so scrawny he looked as if a good breeze would blow him over. Once I'd seen to it that he had some square meals under his belt, he began to put on muscle, and he lost that hungry look.

He'd reminded me a bit of Ann Darrow, when I'd first found her. Ann Driscoll, she was now, having married Jack Driscoll, the Venture's first mate, the day after King Kong escaped and then fell from the Empire State Building. She and Jack had driven down to Maryland, where there was no three day waiting period.

I read about it in the Daily News.

I'd convinced myself I'd taken Johnny to bed that first time simply because of the resemblance to Ann, even though I'd never had any desire to sleep with her. And then I'd convinced myself that if he didn't come with me on the Venture, Big Louie, who ran the rackets on the Eastside, would see about outfitting him with cement overshoes for helping me.

Johnny shared my cabin on the Venture, and my berth. When we were around any of the men, I treated him casually, like a pal. When we were alone together, I treated him pretty much the same.

I didn't know much about him, and I never asked about his past, or about how he had gotten that broken nose. I figured if there was anything I needed to know, he'd tell me. I failed to take into account the way he'd been forced to live since the Depression hit the country.

All I knew was he was a good kid who let me fuck him whenever I wanted to, and I found I wanted to a lot. I remembered how surprised he'd been the first time I'd made love to him, and he'd come apart in my hands, and how cock-of-the-walk that had made me feel.

Every time afterwards, I always made sure he climaxed, but once we were done, I'd roll over and fall asleep. I never held him, rarely kissed him, and he never complained about it. He never asked for anything, and he never expected anything.

On a couple of occasions when I'd had nightmares of that time on Skull Island, I'd wakened to him holding me, stroking my back and murmuring soothing words in my ear, but as soon as he knew I was awake, he'd let me go. I'd wanted to stay in his arms, but I'd turned away from him, saying gruffly, "Sorry I woke you up. Go on back to sleep, kid."

I called him 'kid' because I couldn't bring myself to call him any of the meaningless pet names I'd have used for a woman.

I kept telling myself I couldn't be in love with another man, but the deeper we sailed into the South Seas, the more I searched for excuses to touch him or hold him.

I thought he was happy; I knew I was.

The night after we'd sailed out of Dakang, things changed. He was edgy and distracted, and I'd spent a long time making love to him, trying to show him by the actions of my body that he needed me. He'd moaned and shivered and filled my hand with his seed. I'd whispered impassioned phrases against his hair, but his only response was the slow, steady sigh of his breathing as he slipped into sleep.

Johnny became more and more distant after that. We shared the same berth, but we may as well have been on opposite ends of the ship. Sometimes I'd feel his eyes on me, but when I turned to glance in his direction, he'd be watching the horizon, or the dolphins playing in the Venture's wake. I was always too late to catch him watching me.

Cold fingers clutched my gut as it dawned on me that I could be losing him. I'd never been in a situation like this before, and I didn't know how to react, so I withdrew.

The Skipper would gaze from one of us to the other. His lips would clamp down on the stem of his pipe, and he would shake his head, but he didn't offer advice.

It was only when the crew gathered on the deck and demanded an explanation for Hildy Peterson's presence aboard the Venture that I learned what was behind Johnny's behavior toward me.

It turned out that Johnny had brought the little girl whose father had been killed in a suspicious fire on the ship. I thought she'd be better off in Dakang, and he'd thought otherwise. He'd been afraid that when I learned he'd gone against my wishes, I'd kick him off at the first available port.

He'd been wrong.

We got that misunderstanding straightened out, and the physical side of our friendship resumed. Things were going well.

And then the men mutinied. Dutch told us we were going to be put off the ship, and we'd have to row to Skull Island, which wasn't more than half a mile away. The Skipper had been distressed. We weren't supposed to be anywhere near Skull Island.

I hadn't been worried. Well, not *too* worried. I figured the natives would welcome us, and eventually we'd find a way to return to civilization. If the Venture found Skull Island, so could other ships.

But... "Where's Johnny?"

"We's keepin' your Nancy-boy, Denham. Mebbe we'll let ya have 'im back. If ya still wants 'im when we's done with 'im." Red was a mucker, a nasty piece of goods, and I knew if he got his mitts on the kid, he'd hurt him and enjoy every minute of it.

I'd gone after him, not the brightest move I'd ever made, and earned myself a blow to the head and a nagging headache. The Skipper and Jimmy had to lower me, half-conscious, to the lifeboat.

Careful hands took me from the wireless operator's hold. "It's all right, Mr. Denham. I've got you." It was Johnny. He was there and unhurt, and I sagged against him in relief.

****

In spite of the heat, Johnny hadn't rolled up the sleeves of the shirt he wore tucked in his trousers. They afforded some small protection from the brush, where the leaves could often inflict painful cuts. If the toss-up was between sweating or bleeding from a wound that might become infected, there was no contest.

The shirt clung damply to his back, and from time to time he'd push his hair up off his neck. I loved the way it curled, and the way it felt against my fingers when I made love to him, but I wondered why he didn't cut it. It was obviously uncomfortable.

He turned his head to smile at me, and I caught my breath. His blue eyes were unguarded, and for the first time they didn't have that wary tension lurking at their back; he looked like the kid I always called him.

"We're going to need another bath by the time we get back," Johnny groused good-naturedly. He ran a sleeve over his forehead to mop the sweat that was beading at his hairline.

"Maybe the Skipper and Charlie will find water closer to camp, a stream, a pond, something."

"As long as it's not like the one we left." He stopped abruptly, and I nearly stepped on his heels. "Did you hear anything, Mr. Denham?"

"Not a thing, kid." I'd been too distracted by my thoughts. "Y'know something? I'm glad we were able to get things sorted out between us. We have gotten them sorted once and for all, haven't we? You're not going to leave me, are you?"

"There was never a chance of that, Mr. Denham. You're stuck with me for as long as you want me."

"Guess I'll have you forever then." A warm feeling settled in my chest. It took me a little while to figure out what it was. I was happy.

Oh, sure, I'd been happy before, when I'd got good footage of an action sequence in the can, or when a film of mine made money, but not happy like this. I wondered if I was going soft. And then I decided I didn't care.

Johnny unscrewed the cap from the canteen and took a swallow. He pulled a face. "We're going to need water that's drinkable." He passed it to me. "Other than that pool we nearly got cooked in, we haven't found anything in this direction."

"Well, we did find King Kong's son. Listen, kid." I waited until he was looking at me. "I wouldn't mention seeing Little Kong in front of Helstrom. His nerves aren't too steady right now, and I got the impression he never believed there actually was a King Kong."

He made a rude sound. "Doesn't he read the newspapers?"

"Even if he did, I doubt he'd take their word for it."

"You mean he thinks Kong was simply a myth? Well, a myth ith ath good ath a mile," Johnny lisped, deliberately keeping his expression bland. I gave him a disbelieving look, and he burst out laughing. "Sorry."

I liked hearing him laugh, and I laughed softly myself. "Rascal!" I tugged a lock of his hair, and it all fell loose from the slender vine that kept it confined. I finger-combed it back from his face, then ran a thumb over his cheekbone.

He blushed a little and bumped his shoulder against mine. "He must think you're a dope."

I snorted. "Helstrom doesn't have a high opinion of anyone's intelligence, except, maybe his own."

"So he thought he was pulling a fast one on you?"

"Yeah. That was a sizable poker pot we were playing for, and I'd called his hand. If he wanted to stay in the game, he had to ante up."

"Do you think there really is a treasure here on Skull Island?"

I didn't even have to give that much thought. "Fat chance, kid. Sounded like he was just desperate to get away from Dakang, and he was willing to bet the lure of an adventure that resulted in fantastic wealth would be all that it would take to get me interested." I shrugged ruefully. "He might have a point."

"Why?" Johnny demanded hotly. "Because you went to Skull Island the last time? It wasn't your fault, the way it turned out! You didn't twist anyone's arm to go on that voyage, Carl. They all went of their own free will."

"A lot of them died." I was touched that he'd stick up for me so fiercely.

He shrugged in turn. "We're all going to die. You can't save everyone, Mr. Denham. I'm goofy for you, but even I don't see you as god."

I couldn't catch my breath. "What did you say?"

"Huh?" For a second he looked puzzled. "I said even I don't see you as..."

"No, no. Before that."

"We're all going to die?" His gaze darted away from mine, but I knew he was watching me from the corner of his eyes. I shook my head. "You can't save everyone?" he offered.

"Johnny." My tone was exasperated. "Are you deliberately trying to give the impression you're a dim bulb?"

His shoulders slumped. "I'm goofy for you?" Clearly he was hoping I wasn't familiar with the current slang.

"That's the one." I tipped his face up, but he refused to meet my eyes. I sighed. "Johnny. Johnny!" Finally, reluctantly, he raised his eyes. "So, you love me?"

"I didn't mean to say that; it just slipped out, honest." He held himself stiffly now, as if he expected a blow.

"But you love me, don't you?" My hands closed around his upper arms, and I pulled him up onto his toes.

He looked miserable. "Carl..." I could see the hesitancy in those blue eyes.

"Call me Mr. Denham." It had taken a while, but I'd finally caught on. His 'Mr. Denham' was equal to any skirt's 'darling' or 'sweetheart'. My mouth hovered just above his, and his breath warmed my lips with tiny, excited puffs. And then my lips were on his, brushing over them until he opened with a helpless moan, and I slid my tongue into his mouth and tasted Johnny.

****

When I finished kissing him, there was a dazed look in his eyes, and I wondered if his legs felt as boneless as mine, if his mouth tingled and felt as puffy. I propped him up against a tree.

I traced a finger over his lips. They were slick and moist from my kiss. I brought my finger to my mouth and licked it.

Johnny's blue eyes darkened, and he took my hand and brought it to his mouth. His lips parted, and his tongue came out to curl around my finger and draw it into his mouth to suckle it lightly. I groaned and pulled it away, and kissed him again.

Finally I straightened and shook my head. "Much as I'd enjoy more distractions like this, if we don't get going, we're going to wind up spending the night out here!"

"That would be oke with me."

"Whatever I suggest would be oke with you, kid." In spite of the fact that I'd so recently jacked off while I'd brought him to climax with my mouth and hand, my prick was hard, and I could feel the matching hardness in his trousers pushing against my thigh. I knew my grin had to reveal how smug and satisfied I was.

"Well, it would."

I wanted to drag him into my arms, but I knew if I touched him, I wouldn't be able to prevent myself from taking him to the jungle floor, and we really would wind up spending the night in the jungle. I picked up my rifle, pulled out the compass the Skipper had given me and took a bearing. "That way, kid," I pointed, and we began walking west. "We'll have to spell the Skipper and Charlie tomorrow, and keep an eye on Helstrom so they can have some time alone."

"They're good men, and I like them a lot. Too bad that shark wasn't around when Dutch tossed Helstrom overboard, though."

"Johnny! One would think you weren't fond of Captain Helstrom."

"One would be correct." He was serious.

I took another bearing. "We need to go in that direction to get the bananas. From there the path will be a couple of degrees northwest, and that will get us back to the camp in about an hour."

Johnny's footsteps slowed. "Wait a second. I'm *positive* I heard something that time!"

"No. As a matter of fact, it's... " I was about to say it was too quiet. My words were cut off as Johnny let out a yelp and was abruptly lifted off the ground. Long, thick fingers covered in white fur were encircling his body, and he shoved at them to no avail.

His face was pale, and his eyes were wide with shock. The young Kong had him in his grip. He brought Johnny closer to his face... his mouth... those teeth that looked like tombstones. I was positive Johnny was going to become his dinner, and I worked the bolt of the rifle.

"Hold on, kid! I'm going to ..." I had the rifle to my shoulder, but before I could shoot, Little Kong's lips seemed to wrinkle into a grin. He sat down, still holding Johnny, and very carefully stroked the tip of one digit over Johnny's hair. His touch looked surprisingly gentle as he took a lock between two fingers and learned just how soft and thick it was.

Little Kong's nostrils flared, and he inhaled noisily, but he didn't bring Johnny any closer to his mouth.

"Ugh! Banana breath!" Johnny continued to push at the fingers that held him captive.

"Johnny," I called softly so as not to alarm the young animal, "it doesn't look like he's going to hurt you. If it's oke with you, I don't want to blow his brains out just yet."

"Just... just don't wait too long, Mr. Denham?"

"Not a chance, kid! I'm not losing you now!"

Little Kong seemed to become intrigued by Johnny's clothes, and he made a pincer with thumb and forefinger. He tugged at Johnny's shirt, ripping it.

"Hey!" Johnny protested as the material tore apart, "I'm gonna need this!"

Little Kong uttered a tiny sound of wonder and moved the torn halves of the shirt aside, touching Johnny's chest. I watched intently, ready to open fire if I had to, as the pad of his forefinger explored the contours of Johnny's torso, the hills and valleys of his chest and abdomen, and then the young primate snagged his nail on the waist of the kid's trousers.

"Oh, no! This is the only pair of pants I have! I'm not going around naked because you're curious!" Johnny fisted his hand and pounded at the nearest finger as hard as he could. Little Kong flinched and whimpered and dropped the kid the few feet to the ground, then brought that finger to his mouth.

"Johnny!" I had him in my arms and was dragging him away from the giant ape.

"I'm all right. He didn't hurt me."

"Oh, christ, there's blood all over your shirt!" I was terrified, searching for an injury. If he was wounded, there wasn't much I could do for him, except maybe pray really hard. We hadn't thought to bring the first aid kit with us.

Johnny stared down at himself in surprise. "I'm not hurt," he assured me again. He opened his shirt to show me, and I ran my fingers over him in the same manner as Little Kong.

"If it's not your blood, then..."

"... it must be his!"

As if realizing we were talking about him, the young animal looked at us. He'd been nursing his hand to his chest and whimpering softly.

"Hey! He's pure white, Mr. Denham!"

"Yeah, kid. He must have found someplace to wash off all that slime."

"I just hope it wasn't that pond we found." Johnny stepped away from me. "Oke, little fella, let me see." He held out his hand, reaching for Little Kong's. He was reluctant to let Johnny touch him, no doubt believing Johnny was the reason he was in pain. "I couldn't have hit him hard enough to hurt him this badly, Carl! Something's wrong."

"All right, youngster," I said soothingly, leaning the rifle up against a tree, "let me take a look at that." I was surprised when he let me take his hand and turn it over. "Well, would you look at that? He's got a splinter!"

"D'you think he must have gotten it when he climbed out of the quicksand?"

"From that tree?" I was stroking the soft, pliable skin of his palm in as calming a fashion as I could. "I wouldn't be surprised, kid." I met his eyes. "This will have to come out."

He swallowed hard. "If you can hold him steady, I'll try to remove it."

"Sure thing." I held the finger in both arms and braced myself, watching with interest as Johnny pulled his shirt the rest of the way out of his trousers, then took his ever-present knife from his pocket, made a cut, and began tearing off a wide strip. When he was done, he draped it over his shoulder. "Can you distract him, Mr. Denham?"

"I can try." I began to sing softly. "'I fell in love with you first time I looked into Them there eyes... '"

Johnny stared at me, and I felt myself blush. I wasn't much of a troubadour. His lips twisted in a grin, but he didn't say anything, just bent his head over the injury and set to work.

I wouldn't have been able to do much if Little Kong decided he was unhappy about the way Johnny was digging into his finger, but the young animal actually held still for it. Finally Johnny had the splinter worked free. It was narrow but about the length of my hand.

"Geez, would you look at that, Mr. Denham? It's a tree trunk!" He tossed it aside. The wound was bleeding sluggishly, and he uncapped a canteen and poured some water over it, washing the blood out of the gash. Little Kong flinched again but didn't pull away. "Good boy." Johnny carefully wound the strip of material around it and tucked in the loose end.

He nodded for me to release the finger and stepped back. Suddenly it seemed to get dark. I realized it was Little Kong's hand descending on Johnny.

Time slowed to a crawl.

Johnny gasped as he tried desperately to backpedal out of the way. His feet tangled in something, and he tripped and landed on his ass. I lunged for the rifle. Maybe I owed King Kong something, but not the kid's life.

Little Kong picked him up and set him on his feet, then touched his hair very gently.

"Well, I'll be." I was stunned. I cradled the rifle so the muzzle pointed to the ground. "Like father, like son. Looks like Little Kong has a weakness for blonds too! Say, I wonder how long he's been following us."

"What... ?" Johnny asked in confusion, then sucked in air as it dawned on him. "All those times when it felt like we were being watched, when I heard something, or I thought clouds were blocking out the sun..."

Little Kong angled his big body forward. His nose scrunched up as he breathed in Johnny's scent. Johnny reached upward and absently scratched under the young animal's chin. Little Kong's eyelids drooped, lowering to half mast, his lips stretched wide, and he made little grunting sounds of contentment.

"Johnny," I said quietly, "he likes that! He likes the way you're touching him!" I chuckled softly. "Can't say I blame him. I like the way you touch me too."

"Mr. Denham, this isn't a good time to flirt with me." He was turned away from him, and I couldn't see the smile on his face, but I could hear it in his voice.

"Johnny."

He glanced over his shoulder, a pale eyebrow arching toward his temple.

"Any time is a good time." I wanted to put the rifle down. I wanted to push aside his hair and kiss the back of his neck, nuzzling the soft hair that grew there. I wanted to lick the skin where neck and shoulder joined, tasting the salt of his sweat, then blowing on it. I wanted to slide my arms into the torn front of his shirt and rub my palms over his nipples. As if he knew what I was thinking, his nipples became pebble-hard, and we both shivered. "We have to be going now, Little Kong." I patted the young animal's upper arm, and we backed away from him. "Don't take any wooden nickels."

I could have sworn he looked crestfallen.

****

It took about another half hour, forty-five minutes to reach the stand of banana trees. "You sure you can climb this, kid? It looks pretty high!"

He measured the height with his eyes, and he looked a little nervous, but he just nodded. The canteens would have interfered with his climb, so he pulled them off over his head and handed them to me, and I looped the straps around my neck. He licked his lips, then pulled out that knife of his and stuck it between his teeth. It took some careful maneuvering, but he hitch-crawled his way to the top.

My chest began to hurt, and I realized I was holding my breath. I forced myself to breathe, but my palms were clammy, and I cursed myself for allowing the kid to make that climb.

There was a bunch of ripe bananas that he seemed to be working toward, and I was relieved when he was finally close enough to it to grab the stem, pull it to him, and start sawing it loose.

"Hey, Mr. Denham, how do we get this down on the ground without winding up with mashed bananas?" Johnny called. He was about three quarters of the way through.

Before I could answer, two things happened at once.

A spider that looked to be the size of Rin Tin Tin, that German Shepherd dog, dashed out of the bunch of bananas where it had been hiding. Eight spiny-haired legs propelled the thing toward Johnny, and my stomach roiled as I was reminded of the spider in the ravine. Johnny's recoil was abrupt and violent, and his knife went flying out of his hand.

At the same time, another tremor rocked the area, and he lost his grip on the tree and fell.

"JOHNNY!"

He was going to die. I knew it. The fall was too great for there to be any chance of survival. I refused to squeeze my eyes shut tight, as much as I wanted to. I dropped the rifle and tried to place myself beneath him so I could break his fall.

A huge palm appeared out of nowhere, and Johnny landed on it so hard the breath was knocked out of him. Little Kong lowered him gently to the ground, and I could see that Johnny was hovering on the verge of consciousness, wheezing to take a breath.

I yanked him off the leathery cushion of Little Kong's palm and into my arms. "Johnny!" I swore in a harsh, tight voice. "Kid, are you all right?"

"Geez, I didn't... didn't know you... you knew words like that!" he laughed feebly. "I'm... I'm oke, Mr. Denham, just a little...little winded. Little Kong saved me!"

"Yeah, it looks like he..." There was a sharp crack, and we both looked up to see the bunch of bananas break free. I dragged him out of the way just in time, and it hit the ground with a solid thud. Johnny shivered, and my embrace tightened.

There was an annoyed, chittering sound, and the huge spider came scuttling out of the mass of squashed bananas. Four sets of eyes reflected our images malevolently, jaws opened and closed with evil intent, and the tips of it fangs glistened with drops of venom.

Before it could launch itself at us, there was a thundering roar, and a huge foot descended on it, flattening it with a sickening crunch.

Not satisfied with that, Little Kong put his entire weight on that foot and twisted it a number of times.

"Holy smokes!" We sat there staring in reluctant fascination at his actions.

"Yeah!"

Little Kong raised his foot and stared at the mess on his sole, his mobile lips twisted in a grimace of distaste. He scraped his foot over a leafy bush, clearing off the worst of spider ichor and guts. Johnny swallowed hard. I couldn't blame him, it wasn't a pretty sight.

"He saved our lives just now!" I climbed to my feet and reached a hand down to help Johnny up. I pulled him into my arms and held him.

"And he saved my life when I fell out of that tree." He pulled back to look into my eyes. "You're shaking, Mr. Denham!"

"Yeah, kid. This time I am."

He burrowed against me, his head under my chin, and we stood there rocking back and forth. "Do you think maybe he's trying to pay us back for saving his life?"

"Could be, Johnny. Gorillas are smart from what I've learned of 'em, and Little Kong's a mighty big gorilla. He'd be even smarter." I glanced over at him. "Uh, oh!"

"Carl, what is it?"

Little Kong had picked up the rifle and was inspecting it curiously. He studied it, peering into the barrel, and his nostrils wrinkled at the telltale odor of gun powder that lingered around it.

Somehow he managed to get the rifle to fire. The bullet went whistling past his ear. The explosion so close to his head irritated the young animal, and he let out a roar that actually rivaled his old man's and snapped the offending thing in two.

"Oh, no!" I groaned. "You big lummox!"

Johnny was leaning against me, laughing helplessly.

"It's not funny, you know!" I grumbled.

"I... I know, Mr. Denham, but..." He laughed harder. "The look on both your faces!"

"I guess," I said grudgingly.

Little Kong plopped himself down with a grunt and stared at the broken weapon, and I would have sworn the expression on his simian face was aggrieved. He sniffed and offered the pieces to me.

I felt a reluctant grin start. "Well, it looks like now we're down to two rifles, Johnny."

****

Johnny started going through the bunch of bananas, looking for some that weren't too badly damaged. He tossed one to Little Kong, who peeled it with finesse and then gobbled it down in two bites.

Johnny offered one to me, and I shared it with him, carving off slices with his knife, which I had found not too far off.

He took the knife back and had just cleaned it off and returned it to his pocket when there was another tremor. They were coming closer together, it seemed. As I turned to say something to that effect to Johnny, the ground split open beneath me, and I started slipping and sliding down a steep incline at an incredible rate of speed. Abruptly the bottom dropped out, and I fell. I heard Johnny's desperate cry, and then a large hand scooped me up and brought me back to the surface.

"Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck!" Johnny threw himself at me, hugging me as if he'd never let go. "I thought you were a goner!

"Hey, kid, it's oke!" But my legs gave out from under me, and I sank to the ground. He dropped to his knees beside me and held me fiercely, his body flush against mine, absorbing the shudders that rippled through me. We stared over the edge of the newly-formed sinkhole where we could see molten rock. It surged, sullen and restless. "Oh, my god!"

My insides turned to water. If Little Kong hadn't caught me in time, I would have gone into a pit of lava.

Suddenly, the young animal grabbed us up, one under each arm, and began running. "What... what's going on, Carl?"

I was able to get a look around Little Kong's upper arm, and I shuddered. "The... the ground's giving way, Johnny. It's just... just falling in on itself!"

Little Kong tucked Johnny into the same arm with me and used his other hand to drive himself forward at a faster rate. With a powerful bound of his legs, he took to the trees, swinging through them like that Tarzan the Ape Man. His muscles bunched and flowed, moving smoothly under his hide, and he quickly outdistanced the danger. Once we reached the low-lying hills, he dropped to the ground and seemed to follow a path that gradually took us higher and higher up into the mountains.

Finally, winded, he came to a halt, and I stared up in awe. "Holy smokes, kid! This is Skull Mountain! We're on Kong's mountain!"

Part 7

Note: To my knowledge, there was never a dinosaur, in any of the eras, such as I have described

Carl Denham's POV (con't.)

We were deep inside Skull Mountain.

"So this is chez Kong."

Johnny looked a little sheepish at having stated the obvious, but I just grinned at him and ruffled his hair. He leaned into my touch, and it occurred to me how much I liked him doing that.

"It was nice of Little Kong to carry us all the way here," I murmured as I gazed at our surroundings. We weren't in the dark, and we should have been. We should have needed torches, flashlights, some form of illumination; I couldn't understand why we didn't.

"At least it gave us a chance to catch our breaths. I wonder where he went off to." Johnny crossed to one of the walls and ran curious fingers over its surface.

"No doubt he had Kong things to do." That made him smile, and that made *me* happy. I unscrewed the cap of one of the canteens and took a deep swallow, then grimaced. The water was warm and stale, and I hoped we'd be able to find a cool stream eventually.

"Carl! Look at this!" Johnny held out his hand, and it seemed to glitter with flashes of light. "What do you make of it?"

I touched the shiny stuff in his hand, and the light was transferred to my fingers. I rubbed my fingertips together and stared at them. "Hmmm. Some sort of phosphorescent algae, maybe. Light without heat. Jack Driscoll didn't say anything about this, just that it was kind of steamy."

Johnny was silent for a beat before he said, "There's not much steam here now."

"I wonder if that might be because fissures are breaking through all over the island, allowing the steam to escape."

"You think there's a chance the island will explode?"

"Like I said, kid. It's been here a million years. It should be here a million more."

"If you say so."

I remembered how wrong I'd been about our reception by the natives of Skull Island, and I suddenly shivered, as if someone had walked across my grave.

"I'm going to see where that leads, Carl." On the far side of the chamber was a set of natural stairs that climbed up toward an opening through which the afternoon sunlight spilled. He jogged across the floor of the cavern, and then up the steps.

I recapped the canteen, dropped them both against the wall, and followed after him. No sense in letting the kid have all the fun.

"Hey!" His voice echoed down. "Mr. Denham! I found something!"

I rushed the rest of the way up, emerging out onto a terrace. The open area was bordered by a low wall that almost appeared to have been manmade. Considering the path the Skipper and I had studied on our trek to find a camp, I was reluctant to shrug the idea aside as improbable. I stepped out into the center of the terrace and turned in a slow circle. For a man, the spot was huge, for King Kong, it would have been a snug fit, but for a creature the size of the young Kong, it would have been just right.

"There's some kind of bed over there," Johnny pointed out, "made from grasses."

The air was cooler here; the scents carried by the breeze weren't quite familiar ones. It would have made a comfortable bedroom.

The grasses that made up his bed were flattened but seemed fairly fresh. Tufts of white fur were tangled in it. I picked up some strands and rubbed them between my fingers. "Soft."

"Yes. And look at this." He held a large square of material. "I'd swear it looks like part of a woman's skirt."

"Well, I'll be!" I took the piece of cloth from him. It was light yellow cotton, part of a shirtwaist dress, which buttoned down the front. "This is what Ann Darrow was wearing the night the natives kidnapped her! I could never forget that dress!" I had bought it before I found Ann, before we left New York for the seas west of Sumatra, and fortunately, it had fit the woman I was going to make a star.

"They wanted to sacrifice her to Kong, didn't they?"

"Yeah. They'd never seen a white woman before. Offered us our choice of a dozen women in exchange, including the chief's favorite!"

"I guess they weren't happy when you told them no."

I shook my head. "They decided to help themselves. They rowed out to the Venture after dark and took Ann. She fought back, which they weren't expecting, but which made her an even more worthy bride in their eyes. One of the wrist-guards they favored was ripped loose during the struggle. Charlie found it and started yelling fit to wake the dead. 'All hand on deck. Everybody on deck. All hand on deck.' By the time we figured out what had happened, got our weapons, manned the lifeboats, and made it to the island and the wall, it was too late. Kong had Ann."

"So you and... Driscoll... went after her."

"With twelve other men." I scrubbed my face with my hands. "Jack was on the other side of that ravine, and he was able to follow Kong. I had to go back to get more men and weapons. Jack brought Ann back before I could get the new search party together."

And when Jack had half carried, half dragged Ann through the doors in the enormous wall that separated the peninsula from the rest of Skull Island, she had been clothed only in a wet, torn slip.

"Kong would never have seen anything like this yellow dress." I fingered the material, which was frayed at the top where it had been joined to the waist of the dress. "I guess he was as curious about what was under Ann's clothes as Little Kong was about what was under yours, kid." I inspected the cloth more closely. It was smudged with dirt and covered with hairs, dark ones most likely from Kong, and lighter ones from his son. I sniffed guardedly. "This smells of monkey!" I'd become familiar with the smell on the voyage back to the States, when I'd observed Kong as he'd lain incapacitated by the gas bombs in the hold of the Venture.

"It was next to the bed, Carl. Maybe Little Kong slept with it?"

"I wouldn't be surprised. Could be it gave the little fella some comfort." I handed it back to Johnny, and he knelt on one knee and smoothed it across the bed.

"Do you think there are any more Kongs on this island?"

"Dunno, kid. King Kong was the only one we saw the last time. I wonder if Little Kong would have been as friendly to us if there were others of his kind around."

"Poor little fella. He must be lonely."

I walked to the wall, propped a hip against it, and folded my arms over my chest. While I studied the young man who had become my lover, who at one time had been so alone himself, I thought about what it must be like to be the only one of your kind left.

"It has a pretty nice view, Mr. Denham." Johnny joined me, his shoulder brushing against mine, and interrupted my morose thoughts. "There's a river that winds around the base of Skull Mountain, and there are some smaller mountains in the distance. Looks like there's some kind of nest there also."

I turned and glanced in the direction he indicated. One of the mountains appeared to be smoking, and as if on cue, the ground trembled. "Hmmm? Oh, pterodactyl, most likely. Jack said he'd seen a nest nearby." I braced my hands on the wall and leaned forward, and gazed down at the river far below. "Jack had to rappel down the side of this mountain with Ann clinging to his shoulders in order to get her away from King Kong. He was lucky; Kong was distracted by a pterodactyl that wanted Ann for supper, so Jack grabbed her, and they made a break for it. Kong took care of the pterodactyl and would have gotten Ann back, but Jack decided that they stood a better chance in the river. He let go of the... the root..." I held up one to demonstrate. "They dropped almost all the way down."

"Good thing they landed in the river, then," he snarled and turned away. He began to pace the length of the grotto. "I guess that makes him a fucking hero."

I stared after him in surprise. Before that day, I'd never heard Johnny use language like that.

Although now that I thought of it, he always did seem to poker up whenever Jack Driscoll's name was mentioned.

I'd slept with Jack once, years before I'd met Johnny. He had been attacked by a gang of bullyboys, and I'd waded in to give him a hand. Afterwards, we'd gone back to my rooms so I could patch him up, only I'd wound up having sex with him.

"Johnny." I waited until he paused in his pacing. "About Jack Driscoll. That one time with him..."

"I remember, Carl," he cut me off. The blue of his eyes was dark with anger and hurt. "You took him back to your room, the same as you did with me."

It hadn't been the same, I wanted to assure him. For one thing, Jack had been gone when I'd awakened the next morning.

"Driscoll was a dope to walk away from you."

"Johnny..." I took a step toward him.

"I'm not him." He looked away, blinking rapidly.

"I wouldn't want you to be." I was able to get a few steps closer.

"And *I'm* not a dope."

"No, you're not." I cupped his cheek in my hand. He needed to shave; the fine stubble tickled my palm. I liked the feeling. "Johnny, I fucked Jack. I *make love* to you."

For a moment I thought I was going to find myself with an armful of John Smith, but then his eyes grew huge, and he sucked in his breath. I hesitated to turn around.

"What is it?"

"What did you say that thing was that Kong killed?"

"Pterodactyl?"

"It looks like one is heading this way right now!" He swallowed hard. "We'd better get out of here, Mr. Denham!"

I whirled around and saw a creature with a wing span of over thirty feet approaching us. "I think you're right, Johnny!" I couldn't take my eyes off it, though. The prehistoric beasts that dwelled on Skull Island were so huge and unlike anything I had ever seen anywhere else on Earth. He grabbed my sleeve and tugged me relentlessly back into the passage. "If only I had my camera!" I bemoaned again as it glided closer. "What a shot this would have been!"

"You said the same thing about that monster shark, Mr. Denham," Johnny reminded me. He didn't relax until we were both safely inside Skull Mountain. We watched as the pterodactyl hovered a few yards above the terrace, then angled itself to the right and caught an updraft that carried it away in search of other prey.

"I could have made a fortune on newsreel footage of that flying critter."

"We'd still have to get off Skull Island. And that would be if that thing didn't eat us first!"

"Yeah. You have a point," I admitted sheepishly.

"And didn't you say the public wanted romance?"

"You'd have been in the picture, Johnny." I traced a fingertip over the blush that crept up from his jaw to his cheekbone. "Come on. Let's see what's on the ground floor."

"Gentlemen's shoes, leather accessories, shirts, ties, suits, and unmentionables," he intoned solemnly as we made our way carefully down the steps. He reminded me of an elevator operator reeling off each floor's inventory, and he made me laugh. He tossed a grin my way. "Hey! I hear running water!" He disappeared into a narrow passage.

"Johnny, wait! Something could be lurking around the corner!" I ran after him and emerged into a smaller chamber. "Oh!"

Three of the walls were lined with crystals of all shapes and sizes. The afternoon light poured down from an opening in the ceiling and splintered off them, sending splashes of color everywhere. The colors were rich as gemstones, ruby, sapphire, and citrine, emerald and amethyst. They were stunning, and I wondered if they were the treasure of Skull Island.

To our left a fourth wall was covered from ceiling to floor with a drape of thick, leafy vines interspersed with sweet-smelling flowers whose colors rivaled the crystals.

In a corner formed by that wall and one of the others was a wide, clear pool. Excess water spilled over the side, supplying the vines with the moisture they needed.

The opening that provided the light also provided the source of water for the pool. It flowed down in a gentle cascade.

Johnny stood beside it, enraptured. He held his hand under the waterfall, brought a handful of water to his mouth and sipped it. His eyes closed in bliss. "Oh, this is good! I swear I could get snockered on this! Try it, Mr. Denham!"

I walked up to the falls and stuck my hand under the water, then shook it vigorously. "Hey, you could have told me it was cold!"

"So sorry," he said, all innocence, and took another mouthful. I swatted his ass.

"Smart alec!" I cupped my hand to catch enough to drink, but Johnny stopped me. He wound his arm around my neck and caressed my lips with his. They were cool, and my mouth opened reflexively under the coaxing pressure. He filled it with the water, and I swallowed in surprise.

"You're right, this is good!" But it was Johnny's method of feeding it to me that made that drink of water the best I'd ever had. "Again!"

Johnny's eyes glittered, and this time his tongue followed the water into my mouth. I swallowed again and groaned at the contrast of hot and cold. His tongue glided in and out of my mouth, rubbing over the surface of my tongue. I was overwhelmed by the sudden tactile memory of his prick in my mouth, and I sucked on his tongue voraciously.

He fisted his hands in my hair, turning my head first one way and then another. I was wild for the taste of him. My fingers dug into his back, holding him close, trying to hold him closer. We were both panting heavily when we finally broke apart.

"I love the way you kiss me, Johnny," I whispered as I nuzzled the curls away from his ear.

"Really?"

"Really." I smiled against his throat, and his palms stroked my back. I glanced up at the opening in the ceiling, trying to gauge the time. "Unfortunately, we can't stay like this forever."

"Unfortunately, you're right." He kissed me quickly. "I guess we'd better start back to camp. I'm going to get the canteens."

"Oke, kid. I want to take a closer look at these crystals before we go."

He trotted back into the main cavern and retrieved the canteens, pausing for a second at the entrance of the chamber and glancing back into the cavern.

"Hear something, kid?" After our experience with the young Kong, I had no intention of doubting him.

"No, it must have been my imagination. I don't see anything." He spilled the contents of the canteens onto the ground, rinsed them thoroughly, and refilled them. "All set, Carl."

"Then we'd better get a move on if we want to make it back to camp before nightfall. I don't know how much daylight we have left, and the sun sets quickly is these latitudes." I turned my pockets out. "Red didn't think I'd have any need for my watch."

He handed me a canteen, and then we both heard it, a shuffling, slithering sound. Our heads snapped up, and we stiffened.

"Oh, god!" Johnny's voice was a dry croak.

The creature coming toward us must have been about fifteen feet in length. It had short, stubby legs, a tapered head at the end of a long neck, and an elongated, slender grayish-yellowish-greenish body. The snake-like tail whipped back and forth in agitation, and it waddled as it stalked us, its hind end moving first to one side and then the other. The mouth opened, revealing triangular teeth the size of shot glasses. The edges were serrated. It hissed at us, and its breath was tainted with the sour-sweet odor of carrion.

Johnny's hand went for his knife, and I looked around frantically and saw a loose piece of crystal lying near our feet. It was about a foot long, and I was careful how I grabbed it; the last thing I needed was to cut myself on the jagged edge. I moved to Johnny's side. We'd face this thing together.

"What is that?" Johnny kept his voice low.

"Beats the hell out of me, kid! Back," I whispered, and we began retreating in slow, cautious steps, not wanting to startle the prehistoric beast into attacking. The pool of water was to our left, and the wall of vines was at our back. We were as far from the creature as we could go.

It paused about a dozen feet from us, and its tongue flickered in and out, fat and slimy-looking, testing the air. Ropes of saliva dripped from its mouth.

"Johnny! The vines! Will they bear our weight?" From the corner of my eye I could see him tug on them, and he nodded. "Oke, start climbing, kid!"

For a second I thought he was going to argue with me. Instead he muttered, "You'd better be right behind me, Mr. Denham, or I'm coming back after you." He shoved his knife back into his pocket and started climbing.

"I'll be right on your tail, kid!"

Johnny swarmed up that wall. His feet were smaller than mine, and he was able to find toeholds in the interwoven stalks of the vines. The leather of my soles slipped a time or two on broken stems or torn leaves that oozed sap, but for the most part I was able to keep up with him.

I peered over my shoulder. The creature was almost directly below us, its head weaving back and forth. It shifted restlessly from one foot to the other, then settled its weight on its hind legs and planted its front legs on the wall. I bit back a curse. There were no more than a couple of yards between us and that open mouth.

The blood-red tongue shot out. It coiled around my ankle and began to drag me down to that hot, stinking maw.

Johnny screamed a protest, and I ordered between clenched teeth, "Stay *put*!"

The sudden pain in my hand reminded me that I wasn't totally helpless. I wound my left forearm in the vine I was clinging to, took aim, and hurled the shard of crystal into a pitiless yellow eye.

The sound the creature made was savage and pain-filled, but it didn't release its hold on me. I gripped the vine with both hands and struggled futilely to free my foot.

"Fucking bastard!" Johnny growled, and he released his grip on the vines and dropped like a stone past me.

"Noooo!" My fingers just missed him.

He landed on the back of the creature's neck and curled one arm just below where head and neck joined. A stray beam of light glinted off his knife as he wielded it with vicious intent.

Sawing through the stem of the banana bunch had dulled the knife's edge, but there was fury behind the hand that used it, and Johnny hacked through the creature's tongue. It recoiled, almost yanking me from the vines, but I held on. The creature's howl was a gurgle of pain and rage.

I stared down in revulsion. A length of tongue dangled from where it remained wrapped around my ankle. I kicked out, and it fell loose, landing on the floor with a sodden splat.

It dropped to the ground, swinging its head violently, and blood sprayed over the floor of the chamber. Johnny was flung off, sent flying to crash into a wall, and he slumped to the floor, unconscious.

The creature forgot all about me. There was someone closer for it to attack. It turned its head so its one good eye could find its quarry, and it began to slink toward Johnny, its tail thrashing, a trail of blood left in its wake.

I struggled to free myself from the vines, but I'd done too good a job securing my arm in them.

"Johnny! Johnny! Goddammit, kid, WAKE UP!"

Of course it was useless. I started biting at the vines, spitting out the bitter-tasting sap. I wouldn't be able to get loose in time.

And then, just like in one of those Perils of Pauline cliffhangers, Little Kong came to the rescue. He appeared in the opening of the chamber, took in the scenario, and with an ear-shattering roar, attacked the creature, leaping onto its back. He locked his legs around its body and pounded its head with clenched fists.

The creature bucked and reared in a desperate bid to rid itself of its tormentor, and blood splattered all over the chamber, but somehow the young Kong got his hands around its neck and twisted, and sank his teeth into the vulnerable throat. More blood began to pour down its chest to puddle on the ground.

Its struggles became more and more feeble, and finally it sank down, its legs splayed out, the stub of its tongue hanging from the corner of its mouth.

Little Kong climbed off the almost lifeless body. He shoved the piece of crystal that still protruded from the creature's eye deeper into its skull, and its tail quivered and went still.

Little Kong raised the head and let it go. It hit the ground with a solid, satisfying thunk, and the young animal dusted his hands.

Just then, Johnny groaned, and Little Kong bounded to his side. He sat on his rump and pulled the kid onto his lap. The way he stroked Johnny's hair was almost tender, but I was horrified to see red stain the blond locks.

I yanked harder at the vines, finally tearing them free, and I was able to slide down to the ground, but I'd no sooner reached the floor when a mass of vines came down on top of my head, and I was buried under them. I swore, which got me a mouthful of leaves, and I swore some more. I shoved the curtain of greenery off me, and surfaced to the sweetest sound in the world: Johnny laughing.

"Johnny!" I scrambled up and lost my footing again, and Johnny laughed harder. The sap that oozed from broken stems and ripped leaves made the ground as slick as a skating rink. At last I determined that the only way I'd be able to reach my lover was by crawling on hands and knees.

As soon as I was away from the vines, I was able to rise.

"Mr. Denham, are you oke?" Johnny was wavering on his feet, and I limped to his side.

"Are you nuts?" I demanded, turning his head this way and that to see where the blood was coming from. "You shouldn't be standing up!"

"Why not?" He raised his hand to touch me and stared nonplused at the blood that covered his hand. "Where'd this come from?

"That's what I'm trying to figure out!"

"Well, you've got blood all over you too."

"I'm oke. It belongs to that thing over there. Come on, let's get you over to the pool and get this washed off." I latched on to his upper arm and pulled him after me.

"You're limping, Mr. Denham."

I raised my trouser leg to reveal a band of mottled skin just below my calf. "Damned thing nearly ripped my foot off!" I dunked Johnny's head under the cascade, and the water turned pink, but after some minutes it ran clear, and I breathed a sign of relief. "I guess it must have been dino blood, kid."

"Little Kong has it all over his hands. He must have gotten it on me. C'mere, little fella. Let's get you cleaned up too."

As if he understood, the young animal approached us and allowed Johnny to wash the blood off him.

"I hope his cut doesn't get infected," he said as he removed the bandage and examined the wound. "Holy..."

"What is it?"

"Look at this! It's almost healed!"

"Are you sure you've got the right finger?"

His expression clearly showed what he thought of that remark. Before I could say anything further, Little Kong wiped his palms on the fur of his thighs and returned to the entrance of the chamber.

The light suddenly seemed more diffuse, and I looked up at the opening in the ceiling. "Damn. It's almost dusk. We're going to have to wait out the night here. I hope the Skipper won't be too worried. Oh, well, there's nothing we can do about it right now. Let's see if we can find some grass for a bed."

"And something to eat too?" he asked hopefully. He'd gone hungry too often to take a meal for granted.

Little Kong returned to us. He had picked something up, and it dangled from his fist, a furry carcass that was small only in comparison to him. He offered it to Johnny, who turned green and backed up a step.

"Oh... er... thanks, Little Kong. Sorry, no matches. Can't cook it."

The young animal continued to thrust it toward Johnny, and I tried to swallow my laughter.

"It's not funny, Carl!"

"I know. I'm sorry, kid, but it... it really is funny!"

"You're doing this to get back at me for laughing at you before, admit it!"

"Aw, Johnny, would I do something that... that..."

He scowled at me and took the body, and the young animal left the chamber, dragging the deceased dinosaur by its tail. "I just hope you like Br'er Rabbit tartar."

Still chuckling, I held out my hand. "Let me have your knife, kid." He retrieved it and presented it to me handle first. I examined it and nodded in satisfaction. "I thought so." There was a silver band at the bottom of the grip. I unscrewed it, and a handful of lucifers fell into my palm. I gave him back the knife. "Voila. I'll find some wood to build a fire while you skin and gut Br'er Rabbit."

"Hey!"

I raised an eyebrow and gave him my most charming smile, which he returned reluctantly.

"Mr. Denham, I'm a city boy. I don't know how to skin and gut anything."

"All right, kid. I'll do it. You're just lucky I..." The sentence petered out as I was lost in the brilliance of his eyes.

"Do you?" His smile was incandescent. "In that case..." He kissed me, and when I raised my arms to embrace him, he backed out of reach. Instead, I found myself with his knife in my hand. I tested the blade with my thumb.

"You need an edge on this," I told him blandly.

"Charlie usually takes care of sharpening it for me."

"I may just have to skin this thing with my bare hands! All right, don't just stand there. Go get the firewood."

Before Johnny could leave the chamber to go in search of kindling, Little Kong returned with an armful of branches, which he dropped beside him. The two of them broke the kindling into manageable lengths, but it was Little Kong who actually laid out the wood within a ring of stones that bore scorched markings of other fires. We hadn't noticed that before. He produced some dried bits of moss and stuffed them under the wood, then looked at me expectantly.

This was becoming more and more intriguing.

I struck a lucifer and lit the moss, and soon the fire was burning hotly.

I'd dressed better carcasses in my life, I mused as I filched some twigs and skewered the meat, then laid them across the stones to roast.

A beam of sunlight struck something on the wall which had been freed from the curtain of vines.

"Carl! Look!"

"I see it, kid! What the...?" I approached it curiously. In the center of the wall, above our reach, hung a rectangular object that glittered and flashed fire. "Little Kong, come give me a hand over here!"

The young animal blinked solemnly and glanced at Johnny, then stood up and came toward me, for the first time walking like a primate, balancing on the knuckles of his hands. His intelligent eyes followed the direction I pointed in.

"Can you get that for me?"

He looked back over his shoulder at Johnny, who was watching with interest. "Go ahead," he encouraged, coming to join us. "What do you think it is, Carl?"

"I don't know, but it's putting the crystals to shame!"

Little Kong reached up and tugged at the rectangle. He grunted in irritation when the wall didn't immediately give up its prize, and he glared at it, then set himself to prying it loose. Finally, with a grating sound, he pulled it free, and with an expression of smug pride, presented it to Johnny.

He turned it over and over in his hands. The metal that formed the rectangle was soft, and he was able to bend it back to get a better look at what was inside. His eyes grew enormous.

"What did Helstrom say? Rubies the size of your nose? Sapphires as big as my eyes?" He handed the rectangle to me. "I think we've found the treasure of Skull Island!"

Part 8

Little Kong's POV

The dark-skinned people who lived on the other side of the wall were not the first men to inhabit Skull Island. They were not even the ones who built the wall.

King Kong had told Kai-lee-nda, she who became his mate, of the ancient ones, the golden people who had brought him, along with others of his kind, to this island, and she told the stories to me.

Kongs had been bred by the ancient ones for power and ferocity, and they depended on their savagery for protection. No matter where they went, a few of the Kongs went along.

On Skull Island it was no different, save for the end results. There was something on the island that altered the Kongs, and where normally they might be twice the size of a man, after they'd been on Skull Island a few hundred years, their height had more than doubled. And in the case of King Kong, tripled.

And they lived for countless years.

On Skull Island were stones that those people valued. They mined the mountains for them, sending them back to their homeland in vessels that would arrive periodically.

They built a system of roadways leading from the mines to the bay where vessels would come to take on a cargo of the precious stones. Inside the huge, hollow mountain that was shaped like a skull, they built dwellings for those who worked the mines and a temple to worship their gods, and kept a wary eye on the creatures who called Skull Island home, using the Kongs to safeguard them.

Ultimately, the threat of the strange beasts became too great, even with the Kongs to battle them, and the ancient ones were forced to abandon Skull Mountain and retreat to the stretch of land that jutted out into the ocean. They erected a wall to keep the creatures at bay, and when they were done, the Kongs were also on the other side of that wall.

It seemed the ancient ones had begun to fear them as well, uncertain if they could keep the giant animals under control.

And then, one day, the golden people were gone.

King Kong had watched from a vantage point I, myself, would use centuries later, as a vessel arrived at that spot, rather than the bay it had always come to before. The activity had been frantic, reminding Kong of a disturbed ant hill. There had been barely enough time to summon the workers back from the mines. Belongings were left behind, for there was no room to carry the vast quantities of stones as well as the people who had mined them.

When the vessel set sail, the Kongs were also left behind, to fend for themselves.

Most of the males were killed off by King Kong himself. The females died either birthing their young, or in battle with the creatures of Skull Island.

King Kong alone was left.

In time the darker-skinned people arrived on Skull Island, rowing their canoes onto the beach. They examined the area with interest and decided to make it their home, marveling at the wall that stretched across the width of the peninsula.

At first they disregarded the huge, barred doors, not realizing the necessity for them. They left them open and ventured into the jungle on the other side, and soon learned.

Kong told the tale with relish, of how they had run in terror from the sight of him, and how shortly after that, the sacrifices began.

****

My mother's people dwelled in a part of darkest Africa that was so remote no man had ever seen it.

I never understood how it came to be that she was abducted from her tribe. It was something of which she never wanted to speak.

She was quite small at the time, although not as young as she appeared, and the men who had taken her did not realize who they had; she was a princess and was in line to rule her people. They put a collar around her neck and kept her in a cage. Eventually they made their way to the coast and sold her to the captain of a sailing ship.

The captain was a good man, according to her. He freed her of the collar and allowed her the run of his ship, although he and his crew treated her as a favored pet. Along with her regular diet, they fed her bits of food that she had never tasted before, and they spoke to her until finally she began to understand the different languages, for there were men from all countries aboard the vessel.

Kai-lee-nda grew to be a she-ape of what to them would be unusual size, gradually dwarfing them, but because the men were so used to her, they had no fear of her.

They were deep in the South Seas when a typhoon blew up. The ship was tossed by the fearsome waves and slammed by the rampaging winds, and sustained such damage that the crew was forced to take to the lifeboats.

The captain and his cabin boy were the last to abandon the sinking ship, and they took my mother with them.

Most of the frail crafts were lost, but one managed to reach land. The three occupants staggered to the shore, but before the men could give thanks for being once more on dry land, they were fallen upon by the natives of that island.

The two men were slain, and their bodies taken to be enjoyed at a feast that night, but Kai-lee-nda was reserved to become a bride of Kong. It took almost all the men of the village to overpower her and hold her down while the witchdoctor forced her to swallow a concoction that rendered her helpless. She was bathed and her fur combed, and then she was decked out with beautiful, fragrant flowers. Necklaces of lustrous shells were draped over her neck, and she was carried up the steps to the altar and bound to the posts to await the arrival of their god.

Far inland, the giant ape heard the summons of the drums, informing him of their offering, of another sacrifice.

Over the centuries, King Kong had developed a taste for the native women. They were usually young, and tender, and so afraid that it added a piquancy to their flesh. He would bring them to his lair on Skull Mountain, dash out their brains on the rocks that were scattered throughout the caverns of his home, dine on their flesh, and pick his teeth with their bones.

Often, when I was quite small, my mother would tell me the story of their first meeting, and even Kong would loll nearby and listen with enjoyment.

The drums pounded, and just as twilight fell, the huge ape appeared, expecting to find another of the terrified women.

Instead, he discovered my mother.

By that time she had thrown off the effects of the potion. She bared her teeth at him and growled curses in her language, tugging furiously at the cords that bound her to the altar.

He freed her with negligent ease and brought her close to his face so he could scent her. It had been a very long time since he had had a mate, and he found her scent arousing. He touched her rich golden fur, stroked the firm muscles. She was beautiful and clean-limbed.

He cradled her against his chest, sneered at the puny natives who were hopping with glee on the wall they imagined would keep them safe from him, and sauntered away.

They had to cross a river to get to Skull Mountain, and Kong paused to let Kai-lee-nda drink her fill. He slew a furred creature that was unwary enough to cross their path, and gave it to my mother. She eyed him askance, but was too hungry to object to its raw state; she ripped into it with dainty greed. Once she had finished it, Kong licked the blood from her hands and cheeks and chest.

Kai-lee-nda liked the sensation. She also liked his scent and arched into his touch.

That pleased him. His thick lips curled into a grin, and he picked her up and ran to his lair. Once there, the events of the past weeks took their toll, and she fell into an exhausted slumber. When she awoke, it was to find him meticulously grooming her fur. She stretched out and permitted him to continue.

They became a pair. She explored Skull Island and often brought meals to the mountain that was their home, but only Kong accepted the sacrifices of the dark-skinned natives.

In due course she gave birth to me, their only offspring, a white-gold baby that Kong was surprisingly gentle with.

King Kong taught me how to hunt and how to fight for survival. He was very pleased the first time I bested one of the large meat-eating creatures that would have taken my kill from me and killed me in the bargain. It was almost the size of my father, with wicked, lethal teeth, and I had leaped to its back, pried apart its massive jaws, and stretched them until the hinges were torn and spewed gouts of blood. It lost interest in the battle after that, and wandered off, mewling in pain. A few days later I found its remains. Skull Island did not treat the weak or injured well.

But my mother taught me even more. From her I learned the languages of man, although I could not speak them. I learned the wonders of fire and to beware what seemed harmless.

And I learned that Skull Island was not the entire world.

Sometimes she would tell me stories of the land where she was born, and I yearned to see her people, for on Skull Island we were the only ones of our kind.

I grew older and larger, and King Kong was less inclined to have me around. With fearsome facial expressions and threatening posture, he would attempt to drive me away from our home, but I always returned.

One day, he was not there to challenge me, and I crept into Skull Mountain. I found him in the chamber he and my mother shared. Kai-lee-nda was lying on a bloodstained bed of grass, whimpering from time to time. A huge bite had been ripped out of her side. Kong sat beside her, holding her hand, stroking it. He looked at me, and I knew whatever had done that to my mother was dead.

Her eyes were fogged with pain, but they cleared momentarily when she saw me. "Ta-chi-nko." She held out her other hand, and I took it and held it against my heart until she died.

King Kong didn't have to drive me away any longer. I left.

****

The years flowed, one into another, for through my father I was given the gift of long life, and while I was into my second century, I had yet to reach full sexual maturity.

I knew there would come a day when I would have to battle my father. Not because I wanted to rule Skull Island, but simply because I wanted to stay alive. So far I had managed to avoid him, although I observed his activities from a distance.

It was time for the natives to sacrifice to him again. From a vantage point I had discovered long ago, I was able to observe as they prepared the terrified young woman, forcing something down her throat that rendered her helpless and unable to battle her fate.

Drums began to pound, and men dressed in animal skins in an attempt to look like their god chanted and shuffled around the woman. They threw their arms to the sky, brought them down to beat their chests, and then continued the chanting and shuffling, moving faster and faster.

Suddenly, at the edge of the village, I saw... pale-skinned people, similar to those my mother had told me about! The breeze was in my direction, and I could tell from their scents that while most of them were male, one was a female, with hair like the sun.

They parted the stalks of the tall reeds that grew at the edge of the village and peered through them, apparently intrigued by the natives' ritual. One of them took a strange box on sticks and set it up in the sand. He aimed it toward the square.

The excitement was reaching crescendo level when the chief realized they were being observed by outsiders. He became furious and shouted at the pale-skinned ones, waving his feathered staff of authority and declaring that the ceremony was ruined. That was until his witchdoctor leaned over and whispered into his ear, pointing to the golden woman. The chief's eyes became cunning, and he began to bargain for the woman.

The pale men refused and turned to leave, one going so far as to apparently stuff his hands into his sides and whistle a tune nonchalantly.

I watched with interest as they entered a small craft that carried them to a larger craft that rode the waves beyond the breakwater. It had no sails such as my mother had spoken of, and I marveled at it for a time, but I grew bored and turned my attention back to the natives.

The chief was furious, but there was nothing he could do. The ceremony was abandoned for the time being. Kong would get no sacrifice that day.

I left to hunt my dinner.

I had no idea that when I returned, it would be to find that I was the last Kong on Skull Island.

****

The doors in the wall hung at a crazy angle, permitting any of the creatures on the other side access if they so chose.

The village was in shambles. Huts had been knocked over, walls caved in and roofs torn free. Bodies were squashed, trampled on or partially bitten in two. The natives wailed and beat their breasts, making little or no attempt to right their village.

King Kong had been taken by the pale-skinned ones. I had no idea how that had come about. They were so tiny, and he was so huge.

And yet the fact remained: he was gone.

Skull Island was mine, as was our home in Skull Mountain. I cleaned out the bodies that I found there, one of the flying creatures, and a snake-like one that favored the nearby river. In the grotto where Kai-lee-nda would tell me stories of her people I discovered something that carried the scent of the golden woman.

It also carried the scent of my father, the only other creature like me. I decided I would keep it near my bed.

Shortly after Kong was taken from Skull Island, one of the smaller mountains began to smoke.

And from time to time the ground would shake.

Part 9

Notes: Baby Face was written in 1926 by Benny Davis and Harry Akst. I Can't Give You Anything But Love was written in 1928 by Dorothy Fields and Jimmy McHugh. Sonny Boy was also written in '28 by Al Jolson, B.G. DeSylva, Lew Brown and Ray Henderson.

Jimmy's POV

Hildy and I spent most of the afternoon gathering lush pine branches that would make pretty comfortable beds for six of us. As for the seventh, well, I didn't much care about Helstrom. The bastard could make do with the culls.

The rifle was never out of my reach, and Hildy carried the canteen.

Every now and then, the ground would tremble, and we'd look at each other nervously. We spoke of this and that to distract ourselves from their increasing frequency.

"Did you always want to be a sailor, Jimmy?"

"Yep. I wanted that so bad that I ran away from home when I was fifteen."

"That wasn't too smart, if you'll excuse me for saying so?"

"You're right, honey." I found myself falling into the habit of calling her that, like Smitty did. She seemed comforted by it. She'd become very attached to him, and he cared about her a lot, too. She was still just a little girl, even though sometimes, like now, she sounded so adult. "I was lucky, though," I told her. "I signed on with the Skipper right off, and he's the best captain in the world."

"I was lucky too, when Johnny came back to get me." She saw my quizzical expression. "Mai Ling was going to get a lot of money for me. She told me about it right after I drank that cup of tea she gave me. It must have had opium or something in it, because it knocked me right out. I should have known better." She sounded disgusted with herself.

"Aw, honey, you'd just lost your daddy."

"I know. But ..."

"And Smitty did get you out of there."

"You're right, Jimmy. But I've always had to be self-reliant. No one else was going to look after me." Her eyes were suddenly very old. "Daddy liked to drink a little, you see."

The poor little scrap. "Well, you've got us now, Skipper and Charlie and Smitty and Mr. Denham, and me."

"Oh, yes. I do have all of you now. Thanks, Jimmy." She sniffled a bit. "That makes me feel better."

"Say, you ain't gonna cry now, are you?"

She smiled up at me mistily, and shook her head.

"Howzabout a song?"

"Oke. What would you like to hear? I take requests, you know."

Most of the songs I knew were barroom ditties. I didn't think she'd know them, and if she did, she shouldn't. I shrugged. "Why don't you pick something?"

She gave me a grin and began to sing. I hummed along, or sang some snatches of the ones I did know.

"You have a nice voice, Jimmy. We could do an act together."

"Sing in front of an audience?" I shook my head. But I was flattered she thought I could sing well enough. "Are all the songs you know so adult?" She looked puzzled. "Don't you know any... I don't know... kids' songs?"

"You mean like, 'Baby face, you've got the cutest little baby face...'"

I couldn't help myself. I burst into laughter. "Um, not exactly what I had in mind, honey."

"'I can't give you anything but love, baby... '"

I shook my head and continued chuckling.

"'Climb upon my knee, Sonny Boy...'"

"Never mind."

We dropped the branches and went back to get another load.

We were sweating heavily. The heat seemed to press down on us, and we took turns sipping from the canteen she carried. I hoped the others would find some fresh water. Our canteen was almost empty. I hid my concern from the little girl.

We stopped beside a tree I wasn't familiar with, and I looked up at it. "Those branches look like they'll be comfortable. Wait here. I'll climb up and break some off, and drop them down to you." I looked at the angle of the sun through the canopy of the trees, trying to guess the time. It was later than I had realized. "Then we'll call it a day."

"I am a little hungry," she confided.

"Yeah, me too. I'll open a couple of those cans that Charlie packed. I don't think Skipper'll be too upset with us."

"Um... Jimmy? Do you have a way to open the cans? Charlie was in such a rush he forgot the can opener."

"Sure. Smitty used a shiv..." My words trailed off, and I stared at the little girl in dismay. "And he took it with him. That was the only one in camp, I think."

She sighed. "I was really looking forward to some of that salt pork that the Skipper doesn't like."

I echoed her sigh. "I'll tell you the truth, honey. So was I." I took another drink from the canteen and climbed up the tree. I was glad this would be the last of them.

All afternoon, I'd been keeping an eye out for danger, but there had been nothing, and I... I relaxed.

We were returning to camp with the branches, trying to sing a song in harmony, when all of a sudden one of those dinosaur-critters appeared a few yards down the path in front of us.

We stared at it. It stared at us.

It stood about six feet high. It had muscular hind legs and ridiculously short forelegs, ending in three-taloned feet. But it was the mouth that made me want to cry for my momma. That mouth was filled with rows of teeth. Lots of teeth. More teeth than there was tea in China.

I noticed all that in a split second. I dropped the branches and the gun, grabbed Hildy, and learned first hand how Helstrom had managed to climb that tree.

Maybe the critter was surprised by our presence. Maybe its brain was really small, and it didn't realize straight off that we could be a new source of food; whatever the reason, we were halfway up the tree before it started chasing us.

But once it began to move, jesus, it was fast. It launched itself up after us, and I put a hand on Hildy's seat and pushed her up higher. She clung to the trunk, her eyes huge as she watched that thing snap its jaws shut, managing to snag a tooth in my pants.

For a second it was touch and go, and then my pants gave up the ghost, and the seat was torn out. "Go, go, go!" I ordered, and we scrambled higher.

When we were safely out of reach, in a notch high up in the tree, we looked down at it. The critter had fallen back onto its ass, and was struggling to right itself, and from the sounds it was making, if ever a dinosaur was cussing, that one was!

"What is that, Jimmy?"

She hadn't seem the stegosaur that had treed Helstrom. "Mr. Denham said they were dinosaurs. Prehistoric beasts."

Hildy shuddered.

Time dragged by. The sun was setting, and Hildy was starting to get nervous. "Why hasn't anyone come back yet, Jimmy?" she asked in a tiny voice. By 'anyone', she really meant John Smith. "Do you think he... Do you think they..." Her lower lip quivered.

"I think they just lost track of the time and probably made camp somewhere for the night. They'll be fine, honey."

"Do you promise?"

Jesus, how could I promise something like that? I was whistling in the dark as it was. I felt sick, but I tried to keep my reaction from the little girl. I looked into her blue eyes. "I promise, Hildy. Now, don't you worry, or you'll get me in dutch with Smitty. He'll think I'm doing a really bad job taking care of you."

She leaned back against me. "How long is that thing going to stay there?"

"Not much longer, I hope, Hildy. It's a good thing you didn't drop the canteen like I dropped the rifle."

"The only reason I didn't drop it was because the strap was around my neck."

"Well, it's still a good thing."

"And the rifle'll still be there in the morning. You can get it then."

"Sure I can, honey." I dropped a kiss on her hair.

"The morning!" she suddenly squeaked. "Jimmy, suppose I fall asleep." Her eyes were enormous pools of worry. "I could fall out of the tree!"

Fuck. We both could fall out. "Don't you worry. I'll hold onto you. I won't let you fall out, honey!" I muttered to myself, "But I wish I had something to tie us to this tree!" I didn't realize she heard me. "Hildy, hold still. What are you..."

She wiggled and wriggled, and there was a tearing sound. "Here, Jimmy. Maybe this will help." She handed me a strip of material she'd torn off the hem of her nightie.

I was more relieved than I wanted to let on. "Thanks, honey." The strip should be long enough, I figured, with Hildy wedged in front of me. I slid it around my back and tied the two of us tight to the notch of the tree.

The critter paced beneath us, and its tail whipped back and forth like it was really unhappy that we were up there out of reach, and it was down there on the ground. It went back to the spot where we had crossed paths, caught our scent on the branches, and began making match sticks out of them.

"Well," I sighed, "there goes our beds."

And then I heard a sickening crunch, and realized the creature had stepped on the rifle. I shivered.

I didn't have much religion, but that night I said a prayer in thanks that at least we still had the two other rifles.

Notes: The Forbidden City is Peking , now known as Beijing . The first Open Door Note, authored by John Hay, was written in 1899, and gave foreign powers equal trading rights to China . Curses provided by http://www.tower.org/insult/insult.html . The Wanderer was the original name of Captain Englehorn's ship. Pogy bait is an immature or inexperienced sailor.