Night on Terror Island Read online

  ‘What’s going on?’ asked Mr Lazarus in his ear.

  ‘Didn’t you see? A man was going to shoot me only—’

  ‘The action has moved on,’ said Mr Lazarus. ‘Remember, I’m watching the edited version of events, but for you, it’s all happening in real time.’

  ‘Huh? I don’t really—’

  ‘You’ll get used to it. Right now, the camera is following Mr Dillinger. He’s somewhere behind you but I think he should go past you at any moment.’

  As if to prove the theory, a figure raced past Kip; a man in a heavy overcoat and a wide-brimmed hat. He was holding a Tommy gun and racing fearlessly towards the cops up ahead of him. Kip realised with a dull sense of shock that it was Russell Raven. No, he corrected himself, not him at all. It was John Dillinger. He had his head down, he was running for all he was worth and firing as he ran.

  ‘Wait!’ yelled Kip, but Dillinger didn’t seem to hear him. He kept right on going, his Tommy gun blazing.

  ‘He’s just run past me!’ yelled Kip.

  ‘Then get after him. We need that hat.’

  Kip gritted his teeth, got to his feet and went grimly in pursuit. He had only gone a short distance when he became aware of somebody else running up the road alongside him. Risking a glance, he saw that another gangster was racing towards the police, firing his Tommy gun as he ran, swinging it from left to right to lay down a deadly hail of bullets. Kip recognised him as Baby Face Nelson, one of Dillinger’s gang, a small man with a reputation as a cold-blooded killer.

  And that was when Kip remembered a scene from the film, one of its most shocking moments. A young mother pushing a baby carriage, was caught in the crossfire and killed. He glanced further up the street and sure enough, there she was, cowering in the middle of the road, her face a picture of terror as Nelson ran towards her, ready to shoot her down.

  There was no time to think. Kip lifted his own weapon, pointed it towards Nelson and pulled the trigger. The wooden stock thudded against his shoulder as he unleashed a flurry of bullets in Nelson’s general direction. The gangster stopped firing and dived behind a car that had stopped in the middle of the street. Glass exploded from the car’s windows as Kip’s bullets peppered the vehicle and Nelson was obliged to duck down for cover. Kip glanced up the street and saw to his relief that the woman had taken the opportunity to push the pram to safety on the far side of the road, where she dived into a shop doorway.

  Kip’s gun gave a harsh click. He was out of bullets. He dropped the weapon and went after Dillinger again, running as fast as his legs would carry him. To his right, a shopkeeper shouted to him to get off the street but he ignored the advice, intent now on getting hold of what he had been sent in for; Dillinger’s hat. Maybe if he got that, Mr Lazarus would tell him how to get out of here. As he closed in on his quarry, he wondered what he was supposed to do when he caught up with the gangster. He could hardly just ask him for it, could he? Dillinger was not known for his friendliness to random kids. The gangster came to an intersection and went around it, running for all he was worth. Kip went after him.

  He turned the corner and saw to his horror that Dillinger had run into even bigger trouble. He was slowing down, looking left and right for some avenue of escape. More cops were advancing along the street, firing their guns at pretty much anything that moved. Kip renewed his efforts, closing the gap between him and Dillinger, horribly aware of bullets ricocheting up from the sidewalk around him. Then he saw the gangster drop to his knees behind a line of rubbish bins and start firing back at the cops. They scattered in all directions, but Dillinger kept shooting. His bullets ran out and he was obliged to pause so he could pull out the spent magazine and replace it with a new one. Sensing an opportunity, Kip ran forward, grabbed the brim of Dillinger’s hat and whipped it off his head. For an instant Dillinger stopped what he was doing and looked up in surprise. He stared at Kip for a moment, his expression hostile. Then he relaxed and grinned. He reached up, grabbed Kip by one arm and pulled him down into cover.

  ‘Keep your head down, kid!’ he snapped. ‘Where the hell did you come from?’

  ‘You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,’ said Kip. A couple of bullets smacked into the far side of the bins, making him flinch. He lifted the hat. ‘Is it OK if I take this?’ he asked.

  ‘A souvenir, huh?’ muttered Dillinger. ‘So you can boast to all your pals that you met public enemy number one?’

  Kip nodded. ‘Kind of,’ he said.

  ‘OK, kid, take it, I got plenty of others.’ Dillinger risked a peek over the top of the rubbish bins. ‘Doesn’t look like I’m gonna be needing it, anyway,’ he said. ‘I reckon they’ve got me cornered.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry,’ said Kip. ‘You escape from this. Some of your men will be along in a minute in a stolen police car.’

  Dillinger gave him an odd look.

  ‘How would you know that?’ he growled.

  ‘Oh, I saw the … I mean, I … it’s … just a feeling.’

  Dillinger slapped another magazine into his gun and lifted his head cautiously over the top of the bins to look up the street. The cops were creeping out from cover. He lifted the Tommy gun and unleashed a barrage of bullets at them, sending them running back again.

  ‘I see you’ve got the hat,’ said a voice in Kip’s ear.

  ‘Huh? Oh yes. Now how do I get out of here?’

  Dillinger stopped firing for a moment. ‘Who are you talking to?’ he asked.

  Kip ignored him. He was too busy listening to Mr Lazarus giving instructions.

  ‘Remember the Retriever? The thing you are wearing around your neck?’

  ‘Oh yeah, right.’ Kip reached under his T-shirt and pulled the gadget out. ‘Got it,’ he said.

  ‘Pull back the metal cover,’ said Mr Lazarus. ‘It’s hinged. Underneath, you’ll find a button marked EXIT. Press that.’

  ‘OK,’ cried Kip. ‘As easy as that?’

  ‘Yes. Hurry now, there isn’t much time.’

  ‘Who the hell are you talking to?’ asked John Dillinger again.

  Kip glanced at him. ‘A friend,’ he said. He jammed Dillinger’s hat on his own head and tried to pull back the metal cover, but it was hard to open.

  ‘What’s that?’ asked Dillinger.

  ‘It’s a … lucky charm,’ said Kip.

  ‘Yeah? Maybe you should lend it to me. I think I’m going to need it. Tell you what, I’ll trade it for the hat.’

  ‘Er … no, don’t worry, your friends will be here any minute.’

  ‘Think so? Those cops are getting awful … oh rats!’ Dillinger suddenly leaped to his feet and started racing back the way he had come. ‘Run, kid!’ he yelled over his shoulder.

  Kip was puzzled. He turned and peeped over the top of the bins.

  A truck had been driving along the street alongside him, but now Kip could see that it was mounting the pavement and heading straight towards him. It was only now that he remembered the scene from the film. He caught a brief glimpse of a shattered windscreen and the driver slumped over his wheel, his face a mask of agony.

  ‘Oh hell!’ muttered Kip. He jumped to his feet and started to run after Dillinger, fumbling with the Retriever as he did so. The metal cover had a latch that just wouldn’t seem to come undone. He heard a loud crash behind him as the truck’s front bumper smashed into the bins and flung them in all directions … Desperately Kip forced his thumbnail under the Retriever’s metal cover, revealing the EXIT button, which was pulsing with a dull red glow. Kip turned his head to look back.

  Too late, he thought. The truck’s metal grille was towering above him, only inches away and his head filled with the roar of an engine, his nostrils with the sharp stink of gasoline. In the same instant, his thumb closed on the button. For a horrible moment, absolutely nothing happened. Then he was melting again and a brilliant light filled his head, mingling with the fading roar of the truck’s engine.

  Suddenly, he was yanked backwards and he was crouched on th
e wooden platform, his arms held up to cover his face. He was back in the projection room and Mr Lazarus was smiling down at him.

  ‘Nice job,’ he said.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  KIP GOT UNSTEADILY to his feet. He was shaking from head to foot.

  ‘Good boy,’ said Mr Lazarus. He lifted the hat gently from Kip’s head. ‘You’ve done very well. Quite the little action hero. I saw some of what happened on screen but, unfortunately, when Dillinger ran from the truck, the camera stayed with him.’ He took Kip’s arm and helped him down from the platform. Kip opened his mouth and tried to say something but for the moment he was speechless. ‘Here, sit down a while,’ suggested Mr Lazarus. He helped Kip over to a packing case and eased him in to a sitting position. ‘Are you all right, my friend?’ he asked. ‘You seem a little … overwhelmed.’

  ‘I … I was nearly killed,’ whispered Kip.

  ‘Really?’ Mr Lazarus frowned. ‘Well, I did warn you it could be dangerous.’

  ‘There … there was this truck. It was coming straight at me.’

  Mr Lazarus smiled and put the hat down carefully on a worktop, handling it as though it was some precious relic. ‘The hat looks quite undamaged,’ he observed. ‘I was worried it might have been torn.’

  Kip glared at him.

  ‘Never mind about the bloody hat!’ he snarled. ‘What about me?’

  ‘Oh, you’re right as rain,’ Mr Lazarus assured him. ‘And please watch your language.’ He turned back with a sly smile. ‘So tell me, Kip. Wasn’t it amazing?’

  Kip nodded.

  ‘Yes,’ he admitted. ‘It was incredible … but … did you have to send me into such a violent scene? I mean, there were bullets flying everywhere.’

  Mr Lazarus shrugged. ‘I just thought it was the part of the film where you had the best chance of getting the hat,’ he said. He studied Kip for a moment. ‘I suppose it was pretty intense.’

  A thought occurred to Kip. ‘Hang on a minute,’ he said. ‘How come you already had the film cued to that scene? It’s … it’s almost as though you knew I’d turn up today. As though you planned this.’

  Mr Lazarus gave him a disapproving look.

  ‘Kip, has anybody ever told you, you have a very suspicious nature?’

  Kip frowned. He wasn’t convinced for a moment but decided to change the subject. ‘You were telling me before,’ he said, ‘about the Retriever.’

  ‘Was I?’

  ‘Yes, you were. You said that you didn’t know how it worked. But that doesn’t make sense. You invented it, right?’

  ‘Oh yes, back in the 1950s. To tell you the truth, I was trying to come up with an alternative to 3D … something that would rival the process without the need for those ridiculous cardboard glasses everyone was wearing. So I started experimenting with prisms. It was an accident, really. I wouldn’t have known about it at all if it wasn’t for Federico.’

  Kip frowned. ‘Who’s Federico?’ he muttered.

  ‘My pet monkey, a constant companion back then. I was working at the Fantastique in Paris. Do you know it?’

  ‘No. I suppose it’s a cinema?’

  ‘Of course.’ Mr Lazarus smiled as though recalling happy memories. ‘I had set up my equipment in the projection room and I was running a copy of Invasion of the Body Snatchers while I fiddled about with the prism. Federico just happened to wander into the beam of light. One moment he was there with me, the next he was up on the screen, being chased by an angry mob.’

  ‘Wow! Did you … did you manage to get him out?’

  ‘No. Oh, I wanted to, but I realised that if I just followed him in there, I wouldn’t be able to get out myself. I needed to invent an escape device.’ Mr Lazarus sighed. ‘That took me years of experimentation. And, when I was finally able to go into that copy of the film, I realised it was too late to rescue Federico. He’d been there till the closing credits, you see. The film even gave him his own credit. Federico as Frightened Monkey.’ Mr Lazarus smiled a sad smile. ‘I still have the original roll of film. I watch it sometimes just so I can see him. He seems happy enough. He is being chased by aliens, but they never quite manage to catch up with him.’

  Kip shook his head.

  ‘I’ve seen that film,’ he said, ‘and I don’t remember a scene like that.’

  ‘Of course not! It only affects the copy into which he was sent, and I made sure it never went back to the distributors. I told them it had been destroyed in an accident. ‘Mr Lazarus shrugged. ‘So, that’s how I came up with the Lazarus Enigma. I had invented an incredible machine. How it actually works doesn’t really matter. It’s what it does that counts.’

  Kip nodded. ‘It was the scariest thing that ever happened to me,’ he said. ‘And …’

  ‘And what?’ asked Mr Lazarus, moving a little closer.

  ‘It was also kind of cool. I mean, everything was so real, every little detail. Not that I had much chance to study any of it. I was only in there for a few minutes. And if I’d been a couple of seconds slower pressing the exit button …’ He shook his head. He didn’t want to think about that.

  ‘Hmm. Maybe next time, you’ll be able to spend longer.’

  ‘Next time?’ Kip glared at Mr Lazarus. ‘What makes you think there’s going to be a “next time?”’

  Mr Lazarus smiled.

  ‘Because you said it was cool. And it is amazing, you have to admit.’

  Kip had to think about that one. Somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to lie about it.

  ‘It could be great,’ he admitted. ‘Maybe if the film had been safer, a comedy or whatever, where the worst thing that could be thrown at you is a custard pie. That might be worth a go.’

  Mr Lazarus smiled triumphantly.

  ‘I knew you’d appreciate it,’ he said. ‘You’ve got cinema in your blood, Kip. The Lazarus Enigma was made for people like you. But we’ve got to make a deal, yes? The machine has to be our secret. You can’t tell anybody else about it. Agreed?’

  Kip nodded. ‘There’s no way I’d mention it to anyone,’ he said. ‘They’d think I’d lost the plot. Besides, if other people found out about what you’ve got there, who knows what could happen? There’d be idiots queuing up around the block wanting to go into a movie. We could probably charge admission …’

  He saw Mr Lazarus’s eyes widen as though this idea hadn’t occurred to him.

  ‘Oh no,’ said Kip. ‘No way! I want you to get a blanket and cover that thing up. If Dad ever found out about it, I don’t know what he’d say.’ The mention of his father made him look at his watch. ‘I’d better get home,’ he said. ‘Dad will be wondering where I am.’

  ‘You won’t mention what happened today?’

  ‘Are you kidding? I’m still not sure I believe it myself.’

  He opened the door of the projection room and he and Mr Lazarus walked out into the empty auditorium.

  ‘Kip. Aren’t you forgetting something?’

  ‘Hmm?’

  ‘The Retriever. I need to put it somewhere safe.’

  ‘Oh yeah, right.’ Kip reached under his T-shirt and pulled out the device. He unhooked it from around his neck and looked at it for a moment, marvelling at how a piece of Perspex with a single button on it could have saved his life. Then he handed it to Mr Lazarus.

  ‘And the Communicator,’ Mr Lazarus reminded him.

  Kip nodded. He unstrapped the leather holster and handed it over.

  ‘Thank you, Kip.’ Mr Lazarus slipped the Retriever into his waistcoat pocket and slung the holster across his shoulder. ‘I’ll make sure everything’s locked up before I leave,’ he said.

  Kip studied him for a moment.

  ‘But you don’t leave, do you?’

  ‘Hmm?’ Mr Lazarus attempted an innocent look, but it didn’t quite come off.

  ‘You live in the projection room,’ said Kip. ‘That’s what the bed’s for.’

  Mr Lazarus smiled sheepishly.

  ‘You are an observant boy,’ he said. ‘
I would prefer it if you didn’t mention this to your father.’

  ‘Oh, I’ll add it to the list,’ said Kip. He unlocked the main doors and stepped out onto the street. He stood for a moment, blinking around in the unexpected sunlight. After his trip into Public Enemy Number One, even the ordinary looked somehow weird. He glanced up and down the road, half expecting to see a line of rickety black cars speeding towards him. But everything seemed normal. He shook his head and started walking back towards home. By the time he’d reached his street, his mind was whirring. He realised it was wrong, and probably crazy, but he was already putting together a list in his head; a list of the films he wouldn’t mind making a brief appearance in.

  CHAPTER NINE

  KIP COULDN’T STOP himself from thinking back to his brief visit into the movie. It had all flashed by so quickly, he’d hardly had time to register what was happening to him. Now he thought that if the opportunity came up to visit a gentler, less dangerous film, he might just ask Mr Lazarus to send him in. How brilliant would it be to visit a fantastic world of science fiction? Or to spend a bit of time with one of his favourite movie stars, knowing that he had the Retriever with him to get him out of trouble if anything should go wrong? Mind you, the next scheduled film at the Paramount, Terror Island, wasn’t the kind of movie he’d be in a great hurry to visit. If actors dressed as flesh-eating Neanderthals were going to turn into real flesh-eating Neanderthals, he frankly didn’t want to be involved.

  Still, it was something to think about for the future – and the more he thought about it, the more appealing it became. He even thought about telling Beth what had happened, but chickened out at the last minute, telling himself she’d think he’d lost it big time.

  Meanwhile, Dad had started asking some awkward questions.

  ‘Have you any idea where Mr Lazarus lives?’ he asked Kip on Wednesday night, while they were waiting for the first customers to arrive.