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.
Reggie Sparks scooped Dr. Scott’s special scrambled eggs into his mouth. Strangely, the others didn’t seem quite so eager to try the neon-orange eggs produced by mutant, carnivorous chickens.
Reggie watched Clem and Kate Boone daintily push their food around on their plates without actually eating any. (Evidently, Reggie noted, Kate Boone was not such a daredevil when it came to her food.) They hadn’t eaten any of the fried “chicken” at dinner the night before, either.
It just means more for me, Reggie thought as he speared another link of chicken sausage from the serving plate. It did, after all, taste like chicken.
“So let me get this straight,” he said through his mouthful of food. “You scientists have a secret society?”
“I wouldn’t call it that,” Dr. Scott said, dabbing the corners of his mouth with his napkin. “It’s not secret so much as it is…esoteric. Think of us as a professional organization. Invitation only. We call ourselves the Order of Prometheus. Professor Scrumtumbler was a member—”
“Is a member,” Kate cut in. “We’re going to find him and bring him home safely.”
“Yeah, anyway,” Reggie pressed on. “What you’re saying, Dr. Scott, is that this is why the Nazis are after you. They’ve been kidnapping or bumping off the other scientists and your name was next on the roster with the Order of—whatchamacallit—of the Phoenix?”
“Order of Prometheus,” Dr. Scott corrected. “These events are being driven by an organization within the Nazi party, a very influential group that calls itself the Thule Society. They’ve dedicated themselves to giving Hitler a monopoly on both technological and occult knowledge.”
“I gotta tell you,” Reggie waved the half-eaten sausage at the end of his fork. “This would make a dynamite screenplay. Any other secret societies out there we should know about?”
Before Dr. Scott could answer, Clem reached out with the hand bearing the eye-in-triangle tattoo and knocked over the carafe of orange juice. Everyone beat a hasty retreat from the table before the rivers of juice found their laps. Only Reggie managed to rescue his plate so that he could keep eating.
While Dr. Scott went to retrieve a mop from the kitchen, Kate scooped her food back into the serving dishes.
“We need to decide what to do next,” she said. “We slowed them down in Nevada, but it’s only a matter of time before these Thule creeps catch up to us.”
“But Dr. Scott doesn’t want to leave his research,” Reggie said. “He said so last night—hey, is that a car coming up the road?”
Popping the last of his sausage into his mouth, Reggie moved to the front room and peered out the window. He saw a large cargo truck pull around in the lawn so its bumper faced the house. Two men in grey business suits hustled out of the cab to work at the straps holding the canvas cover onto something large and lumpy in the truck’s cargo area.
“Looks like the Thule goons found us,” Reggie said, spitting a few flakes of sausage as he spoke. “What do you want to bet we don’t want to find out what they’ve got in the back of that truck?”
Kate strode past him and flung open the door. As soon as she did, machinegun fire ripped into the house.
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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