Collection 1986 - Night Over The Solomons (v5.0) Read Free

they were in a gray fog layer, and Mike stopped, glancing back. They were in the low clouds now, over four thousand feet above the sea.
    The girl came up to him. He glanced at her curiously.
    “What in the world are you doing in these islands?” he demanded. “At a time like this?”
    She smoothed her hair and looked at him.
    “My father was here. He persisted in staying on, regardless of everything. But he told me that if the Japanese did come to the Solomons, he would leave Tulagi and come here. There was a place we both knew where he could hide. And he didn’t believe they would bother with Kolombangara.”
    “That’s just the trouble,” Mike said grimly. “Nobody thinks they will. That still doesn’t tell me how you got here.”
    “I flew. I’ve had my own plane for several years. I learned to fly in California, and after I returned here, it was easy for me to fly back and forth, to cruise among the islands. I was in Perth when the Japanese came, and they wouldn’t let me come back after Daddy.
    “Then, three days ago, I finally succeeded. I took off and landed here at Bambari Harbor, and when I went ashore, the Japanese were waiting for me. I got away, but they have the plane.”
    They moved on, working their way among the crags, still heading onward and upward. They left no trail on the lava, and the jumble of broken rock and blasted trees concealed them.
    Once, on the very crest of the ancient crater, where the lip hung over the dizzy spaces below, they came upon a tangle of huge trees, dead and dried by sun and wind, great skeletonlike fingers of trees, the bones and wreckage of a forest. They were worn out and panting heavily when they reached the other side.
    Then Mike Thorne saw what he was looking for, a curious white streak on the face of a great, leaning boulder. He walked toward it, skirted the boulder, and, without a word, squeezed into a narrow crack behind it. Following him, the girl saw him turn sharply to the left, in the passage, then to the right, then suddenly they stood in a small open place, green with soft grass. Beyond, the black entrance to a cave opened, and, from a crevice in the rock near the cave mouth, a trickle of water fell into a basin about as big as a washtub.
    “You knew this was here?” she asked, staring about wonderingly. “But the water, where does it come from?”
    “Seepage. It seeps down from a sort of natural reservoir on top of that peak. Rain collects there in a rock basin and seeps down here. There is always water.”
    “They would never find us here.” She looked at him. “But what now? What will we do?”
    “Sleep. We’ll need rest. Tonight, I’m going back down the mountain.”
    “It would take hours!” she protested, glancing at the lowering sun.
    “Not the way I’m going!” His voice was grim. “I’m going down the inside of the crater.”

----
    M EMORY OF HER one glimpse of that yawning chasm gripped her. The idea of anyone suspended over that awful space was a horror.
    “But you can’t! There’s no way—”
    “Yes, there is.” He smiled at her. “I saw it once. I’ve often wondered if it could be done. Tonight, by moonlight, I’ll find out.” He smiled, and his teeth flashed white. “Say, what is your name, anyway? Mine’s Mike Thorne.”
    She laughed. “I’m Jerry Brandon.”
    Hours later, she awakened suddenly. There was a stealthy movement in the cave, and then she saw Mike Thorne standing in the entrance. He bent over and drank at the spring, then straightened, tightening his belt. She moved swiftly beside him.
    “Be careful,” she whispered.
    “Don’t worry,” he replied softly. He pressed her hand gently. “So long.”
    He moved off. One moment he was there beside her, then he was gone. Remembering that almost bottomless chasm, she shuddered.
    Mike Thorne moved swiftly. He had no plan. He knew too little about the enemy dispositions to plan. He must make his reconnaissance and attack at one time.
    When he reached