The klaxon blared throughout Castle Wewelsburg as the guards tore through the filing room in search of the spies. They pointed their flashlights and their machineguns under the desks and behind the filing cabinets, and then stormed through the stately glass doors to make sure no one was hiding on the balcony or the ledges surrounding the room. Their search was swift and efficient, but the castle was a large place with many other rooms to search, and the Nazis departed the room as suddenly as they had entered it.

As soon as they slammed the heavy oak door behind them, Dr. Mortimer Scott clicked on his pen light and began reading the files surrounding him. The three of them had tucked themselves away inside filing shelf cubby-holes and pulled boxes of files in after them. Reggie had grumbled about the tight squeeze, but the slender Dr. Scott found it almost comforting to be confined to such a small space with such important reading material. As luck would have it, he had stumbled across some very important information.

Clem was the first one out of hiding and he pressed his ear to the oak door to hear what was happening in the hallway.

“They’re a-crawlin’ all over this here castle,” he said. “Ain’t no way we’re getting past them.”

Reggie pushed and shoved and wriggled his way out from his shelf, making noises that made Dr. Scott think of a grizzly bear giving birth to overweight cubs. Dr. Scott, still clutching the fat file folder, was out on his feet before Reggie finished extracting himself. It gave Dr. Scott another moment to skim through the papers he held. His German was a bit rusty, but he felt a thrill as he read on.

“Gentlemen,” he said. “You won’t believe what I’ve found. It’s got to do with—”

Reggie shouldered past him to the balcony door where he threw back the heavy curtains and aimed his flashlight out into the darkness, covering and uncovering the light with his palm at regular intervals.

“What in the sam-hell are you doin’?” Clem whispered sharply. “They see that light in this room and they’ll know right where to come get us.”

“Relax,” Reggie said. “I’m signaling the pilot.”

“And what’s the pilot supposed to do? Last I talked to her, she ain’t got a ‘get out of jail free’ card that works at Nazi prison camps.”

“Gentlemen!” Dr. Scott raised his voice just over a whisper. “You need to see what I’ve found. This file contains the Thule Society’s information on portals into the Hollow Earth. Including  their suspected location.”

“And what good is that?” Clem said. “I ain’t packed any bags for a Hollow Earth expedition, you know.”

“Don’t underestimate the importance of this information,” Dr. Scott waved the thick file folder in the air. “This may be the key to finding the greatest scientific discovery of the twentieth century. More importantly, it may be the key to keeping that discovery out of the hands of the Nazis.”

The klaxon blared throughout Castle Wewelsburg as the guards tore through the filing room in search of the spies. They pointed their flashlights and their machineguns under the desks and behind the filing cabinets, and then stormed through the stately glass doors to make sure no one was hiding on the balcony or the ledges surrounding the room. Their search was swift and efficient, but the castle was a large place with many other rooms to search, and the Nazis departed the room as suddenly as they had entered it.

As soon as they slammed the heavy oak door behind them, Dr. Mortimer Scott clicked on his pen light and began reading the files surrounding him. The three of them had tucked themselves away inside filing shelf cubby-holes and pulled boxes of files in after them. Reggie had grumbled about the tight squeeze, but the slender Dr. Scott found it almost comforting to be confined to such a small space with such important reading material. As luck would have it, he had stumbled across some very important information.

Clem was the first one out of hiding and he pressed his ear to the oak door to hear what was happening in the hallway.

“They’re a-crawlin’ all over this here castle,” he said. “Ain’t no way we’re getting past them.”

Reggie pushed and shoved and wriggled his way out from his shelf, making noises that made Dr. Scott think of a grizzly bear giving birth to overweight cubs. Dr. Scott, still clutching the fat file folder, was out on his feet before Reggie finished extracting himself. It gave Dr. Scott another moment to skim through the papers he held. His German was a bit rusty, but he felt a thrill as he read on.

“Gentlemen,” he said. “You won’t believe what I’ve found. It’s got to do with—”

Reggie shouldered past him to the balcony door where he threw back the heavy curtains and aimed his flashlight out into the darkness, covering and uncovering the light with his palm at regular intervals.

“What in the sam-hell are you doin’?” Clem whispered sharply. “They see that light in this room and they’ll know right where to come get us.”

“Relax,” Reggie said. “I’m signaling the pilot.”

“And what’s the pilot supposed to do? Last I talked to her, she ain’t got a ‘get out of jail free’ card that works at Nazi prison camps.”

“Gentlemen!” Dr. Scott raised his voice just over a whisper. “You need to see what I’ve found. This file contains the Thule Society’s information on portals into the Hollow Earth. Including  their suspected location.”

“And what good is that?” Clem said. “I ain’t packed any bags for a Hollow Earth expedition, you know.”

“Don’t underestimate the importance of this information,” Dr. Scott waved the thick file folder in the air. “This may be the key to finding the greatest scientific discovery of the twentieth century. More importantly, it may be the key to keeping that discovery out of the hands of the Nazis.”

This post is part of an ongoing story set in the pulp-era world of Hollow Earth Expedition. If you are new to this series, I suggest starting at the beginning.

Reggie Sparks listened carefully as the others peered through the binoculars at Castle Wewelsburg.

“They have hangars in the field out back,” Kate had observed. “That means they have some kind of air support.”

“There’s soldiers all over those walls,” Clem pointed out. “This place is meant to look like an innocent little palace, but it ain’t.”

“Dr. Wurmhausen runs this operation,” Dr. Scott said. “That makes this the primary research facility of the Thule Society.”

“Relax, everyone,” Reggie told them. “I got a plan.”

Thirty minutes later, he was standing at the front gates of the castle’s outer wall with Clem and Dr. Scott carrying his camera equipment behind him.

“That’s right,” he said, forcing an air of indignity into his voice as he spoke to the obstinate gate guard. “We’re American. So what? We’re an American film crew sent here to make a documentary for your fuehrer. Glory to the Reich, and all that jazz. Your fuehrer loves films, or hadn’t you heard about that?”

“Nein, nein, nein,” the soldier shook his head. As he did, the guardhouse telephone rang, and a second soldier answered it.

While he spoke, Reggie peered past them at the castle. The windows were dark and empty, but inside one of them a figure in a white coat stared down at them through binoculars. Looking at that figure in the window made Reggie’s palms itch, which is what happens when he gets nervous. He had to put it out of his mind to focus his attention on the guards in front of him.

The second guard hung up the phone and whispered something to the first guard, who suddenly smiled at Reggie. With exaggerated slowness, he undid the lock on the gate and swung it outward.

“Hereinkommen,” he said with a grin and an inviting gesture.

Reggie looked smugly back over his shoulder. “See? I told you my plan would work.”

Clem and Dr. Scott exchanged uncertain glances.

They passed through the outer wall, crossed the courtyard, and entered the castle where they found a squad of soldiers, all aiming their submachine guns at their new prisoners.

Reggie, reluctantly, put his hands in the air and his companions followed his example.

“Turns out yer plan stinks,” Clem offered.

“Shut up,” Reggie answered.

This is an ongoing story about a lost world of hungry dinosaurs, sinister villains, and non-stop action. If you’re new to Hollow Earth Expedition, I suggest starting at the beginning.

Kate Boone dove to the floor as the bullets tore holes in the door and shattered the windows above her. Reggie kicked the door closed and then crouched down, carefully balancing his breakfast plate in his hands.

The men by the truck opened up with another burst of machinegun fire that almost cut the door in half. Wood splinters and glass shards rained down on them—and onto Reggie’s plate of food.

“Those guys aren’t kidding around this time!” he said, staring in horror at the mound of scrambled eggs now made inedible by the debris.

Dr. Scott stepped in from the kitchen, the mop still in his hands and a horrified look on his face. Kate sprang to her feet and ushered the doctor back the way he came.

“My research!” Dr. Scott yelled, pushing past her on his way to the stairs.

Reggie blocked the way with his husky frame “Sorry, doc. We gotta get out of this house before we end up looking like Swiss cheese.”

“Everybody out to the plane!” Kate ordered.

“Where’d Clem go?” Reggie asked. Nobody had an answer.

Kate dashed out the back door and over the open ground. The gunmen noticed her as she rounded the corner of the barn, and a hail of bullets kicked up the dust just behind her feet.

The airplane was parked behind the barn, but now the gunmen were watching that side of the house. Reggie knew he would never make it across the fifty yards of open, sun-blistered ground.

“Cover us!” Reggie called to Kate.

Kate must have heard him, because she popped back around the corner of the barn, taking aim with her one good eye.

By the truck, one of the two men scrambled to undo the ties to the cargo cover while the other fired the last three bullets from his sub-machinegun and then fluidly ejected the magazine. Kate’s Mauser pistol used rifle-grade ammunition, which gave her the advantage at this range. Her first shot kicked up a dust cloud at the man’s foot as he readied his new magazine and sprayed bullets in her direction. His shots fanned out uselessly; her next two shots found his chest and knocked him to the ground. The second man seized another gun from the truck bed, but Kate’s fire drove him under cover.

Reggie ran for it, hauling Dr. Scott behind him by the sleeve of his white lab coat.

Then the thing in the cargo bed knocked the canvas off itself with a huge steel hand. When Reggie saw what it was, he stumbled and fell to the dry ground.

It was all metal, pistons, and rivets, and it might have been mistaken for an armored car except that it walked upright on two stumpy legs that kicked up clouds of dust with each heavy step. Its blocky torso was armor-plated and adorned with a Swastika-and-dagger motif, and where it might have had a head it bore only a flat hatch a series of view-slits. Its arms were steel and iron girders bound by complicated joints that hissed and hummed as they moved. One of those arms ended in a crude fist, and the other bore a multi-barrel machinegun.

The huge gun swiveled to point directly at Reggie, its barrels spinning to life.

“Unbelievable,” Reggie coughed. “Where’s my camera when I need it?”

Don’t miss any of the pulse pounding action! Get all the episodes of this story delivered to your inbox each month by subscribing to my free ezine!

Hollow Earth Expedition was created by Jeff Combos and is property of Exile Game Studio. For more Hollow Earth Expedition action, check out ExileGames.com

This is an ongoing story about a lost world of hungry dinosaurs, sinister villains, and non-stop action. If you are new to Hollow Earth Expedition, I suggest starting at the beginning of the story.

Inside the barn, Dr. Scott dangled a slab of bloody meat through the thick bars of a livestock pen. Within the cage were several creatures that resembled chickens in the way a shark resembles a guppy. These so-called chickens were four feet tall with heavy-set beaks that had elongated into spike-toothed maws. Their legs were muscular and built for running, and their tails stretched back to counterbalance their heavy fore-bodies. Their skin was layered with yellow-brown scales except for the few irregular patches of brown feathers that dotted their backs, tails, and vestigial wings.

Reggie Sparks took one look at them and rushed back to the plane to assemble his camera equipment, leaving Kate and Clem to speak with the doctor.

Dr. Scott dangled a strip of steak through the bars. The monsters inside slammed against the cage and slashed at each other savagely to get at the meat.

“These can’t be chickens,” Kate said. “What did you do to them?”

“An animal’s entire evolutionary history is contained within every cell of its body,” Dr. Scott said. “All I did was prompt them to display different traits of their ancestors.”

“I wouldn’t have thought that chickens had such monstrous ancestors.”

“You might be surprised,” the doctor tossed in another hunk of meat and watched his creations tear into it. “It is very probably that the chicken is the closest living relative of the tyrannosaurus rex. It’s a little sad, when you think about it.”

“Pardon me,” said Clem. “But why on earth would you want to create a race of monster chicken?”

“Why?” he exclaimed as though simultaneously offended by the question and delighted at the opportunity to answer. “The reason is simple: a larger chicken means more meat. I’m going to feed the world. The future is bright! You’ll see—the twentieth century will bring great prosperity and lasting peace for all humankind.”

“I guess you don’t listen to the radio much,” Kate said.

Dr. Scott dumped the last of the meat through the bars and peeled off his gloves. “I don’t get radio reception out here. I’m afraid my communication with the outside world is limited to my telegraph line.”

Clem’s eyes widened just slightly at the mention of the telegraph. If he had been playing poker, he would have given himself away, but neither the pilot nor the scientist seemed to have noticed.

“Sir. Ma’am,” Clem said. “’Scuze me, if you don’t mind. I need to go freshen up.”

He left the two of them and passed Reggie, who was hustling his cinema equipment into the barn. That left Clem alone to enter the mansion, find the study, and locate the brass telegraph set on a side table. He dialed through to London, and began tapping out his message with the hand marked by the eye-and-triangle tattoo.

Don’t miss any of the pulse pounding action! Get all the episodes of this story delivered to your inbox each month by subscribing to my free ezine!

Hollow Earth Expedition was created by Jeff Combos and is property of Exile Game Studio. For more Hollow Earth Expedition action, check out ExileGames.com

This is an ongoing story about a lost world of hungry dinosaurs, sinister villains, and non-stop action. If you are new to Hollow Earth Expedition, I suggest starting at the beginning of the story.

As the propellers of the S-2 tilt-engine airplane spun down, Kate’s boots crunched onto the parched earth of the ranch outside of Tijuana. With her one good eye, she surveyed the old mansion. It a large residence, probably built by one of the land-owning tyrants who once ruled the area. Now it was dilapidated, with all its glamour and elegance bleached and cracked away long ago. Now it was like the land around it: forgotten, broken down, and dried out.

Clem and Reggie hopped out of the side door of the S-2 and joined Kate in surveying the area.

“I wonder if this guy will lend me these grounds for a remake of El Latigo Negro: The Masked Avenger,” Reggie said as he looked around. “We’d have to do something about that big barn, though. Too modern.”

He tilted his head to indicate the bright red barn next to where they had landed. It was clearly a new structure, freshly painted, larger than the mansion itself, and with large sliding doors that were shut and locked. It might have housed a hundred head of cattle, but the lands surrounding it were too barren to support livestock.

The back door of the mansion creaked open and a dark skinned man in a white lab coat stepped onto the broad front porch, a look of bewilderment on his face as he watched the guests who had literally dropped out of the sky. He wore bulky vinyl gloves, and in each hand he carried bloody slabs of beef.

“Doctor Montgomery Scott, I presume?” Kate called to him.

“Yes. Can I help you?” he asked in a voice that was uncertain but not unfriendly. His gaze shifted from them to their airplane, and then he asked, “Are you with the Prometheans?”

Reggie and Clem exchanged questioning glances, but Kate didn’t let herself slow down at the thought of not knowing what he meant. “Doctor Scott,” she said. “I’m afraid I bring some bad news. We recently apprehended a Nazi spy who had four names on a list. Three of those names belong to scientists who have disappeared in the last week. The third name belonged to Professor Scrumtumbler, who went missing two days ago.”

“Scrumtumbler is a good friend of mine,” Dr. Scott said. “Now, let me guess—mine is the fourth name on the list. You came to tell me that they are coming for me next.”

Kate nodded. “You don’t seem terribly surprised.”

“I’m disappointed but not surprised,” Dr. Scott said, shifting one of the bloody stakes to his other hand. “Would you care to join me? I was just heading to the barn to feed my chickens.”

Clem lifted the brim of his black hat and looked at the steaks in the doctor’s hands. “You feed your chicken raw meat?”

“Oh, yes. My chickens are the reason the Nazis are interested in my research. Come have a look for yourself.”

Don’t miss any of the pulse pounding action! Get all the episodes of this story delivered to your inbox each month by subscribing to my free ezine!

Hollow Earth Expedition was created by Jeff Combos and is property of Exile Game Studio. For more Hollow Earth Expedition action, check out ExileGames.com