Chapter Ten | Claws of the Cat | Cliffhanger Case Files

BY CURT FERNLUND

- Claws of the Cat Credits -

Jennifer Higgins limped along, hurrying as best as she was able, trying to keep the fleeting form of Karl Braun in sight. Her ankle was killing her, sending a jolt of pain up her leg with every other ginger step that she took. She was hot and sweating, despite the relative coolness in the dank caves. The humidity was oppressive however, making every breath, every step a new lesson in agony.

They had both survived the short fall down into the cavern hidden beneath the jungle floor. When the ground had given away, Karl had grabbed hold and twisted her about so that he would absorb most of the force of the impact, putting his own body under hers. They had not fallen too far, but far enough, and both were stunned when they had hit the dirty rock floor of the cavern that had been beneath them. They had lain there stunned, gasping for breath in the darkness as dirt and debris had rained down about them. Jennifer did not know how long it had taken them to move, but it was Karl that had finally gotten her to her feet.

They had rested for a bit, just long enough to get their bearings and regain their strength. They had fallen into a cavern she saw, a big cave that stretched far away into the darkness in all directions. Jennifer could hear running water, a river echoing somewhere in the distance, and the squeals of bats somewhere in the dark. She had shivered. Jennifer hated bats.

Before long, Karl had urged them on. The hole they had fallen through was far too high to reach again and climb out of, but he had surveyed the cavern while she had rested and found two slim tunnels leading, hopefully, out. Jennifer agreed that they had to get moving, to find some way out of the caves, so she leaned on Karl as he led the way, confident that he knew what he was doing.

Jennifer did not know how long they had been walking before they heard the first of the screams. It had seemed hours, and she was totally lost by then, turned all around in the confusing maze of dark, dank tunnels. More, she was aching and tired, and wanted nothing more than to collapse to the floor and curl up and sleep. Karl had kept her moving though. He seemed almost driven.

When the first scream had cut through the silence he had cursed, calling Angela's name automatically. Jennifer had tried to hang on as he hurried ahead, but he was determined and too fast, suddenly full of unbridled energy. He pulled free of Jennifer's grip, swiftly leaving her behind as she struggled to keep up. She could hear the clack of his heels echoing down the tunnel as he faded in and out of sight, rounding corners far ahead in the darkness. She called out for him to slow down, and soon started crying when she realized that he was not going to. He probably could not even hear her anymore.

Jennifer Higgins fell to the ground, stumbling and falling in the dirty passage. She felt her knees scrape in the gravel again, ripping open old wounds from just hours before. She lay there in the darkness, sobbing, tired and sore as Karl Braun's footsteps faded away in the distance. She was alone.

She did not know just how long she lay there before she heard the screams again. It was women, she was sure, and they were terrified beyond belief from the sound of it. Jennifer snuffed back her tears, trying to sit up as she wondered what could scare someone so, suddenly worried that whatever it was might come for her as well.

She sat there in the darkness, cross-legged in the dirt, rubbing her injured ankle as she waited, hoping Karl would return. The screaming went on and on and at times she thought that she heard the sounds of a fight as well, the clank of metal. Terrified to be alone, it finally became too much and Jennifer cried out as well, clamping her hands over her ears, trying to silence the noise—

"Stop it!" she screamed, and again, "Stop it!"

After some time she lowered her hands again, and was miraculously greeted by silence. Somehow though, that seemed worse than the screams there in the lonely darkness. She waited, listening, wishing that Karl would come back for her.

Something clattered across the floor, bouncing off of the rocky walls, like stone striking stone. She glanced up, listening intently, but despite the time she had spent in the dark tunnels she still could barely see a few feet ahead of her. She heard what sounded like footsteps shuffling closer. She sighed, smiling. It was Karl. It had to be—

"Karl?" she called out, then suddenly wished that she had not. The foot falls stopped. Jennifer listened, swallowing a lump in her throat, wondering suddenly why she had not heard the distinctive clack of Karl Braun's cowboy boots on the dusty stone floor of the cave.

Jennifer cursed, trying to rise without making too much noise. She winced as pain shot through her ankle, biting her tongue to keep from crying out. She staggered against the wall, trying to flatten against it. She suppressed a giggle, thinking of the profile she was striking, trying to hide against the wall with her breasts sticking out and heaving with fear. It was absurd—

Something slammed into her, pushing her back against the wall. She felt her head loll back striking the rocky wall with enough force that she saw stars. She felt the breath rush out of her lungs with a 'huff'. She almost passed out, but hung on, clinging to consciousness, knowing that if she went out, she might never wake up again.

Dazed and confused, Jennifer felt a warm, sweaty body press up against her own, holding her in place against the wall. She wanted to scream as something cold and sharp was pressed into her throat, but she could barely draw a breath. She smelled foul breath as someone leaned in close, a shadow passing in front of her—

"Where is the man?" a voice hissed in her ear. Jennifer heard the harsh accent, like Spanish, but not quite, struggling with the English. Jennifer tried to answer, but her voice choked and broke, and all she emitted was a startled squeak. She felt the sharpness at her throat dig deeper. Something warm trickled down her throat.

"Where, girl? Tell me!"

"I…I…" Jennifer tried to speak, but she was too afraid to gather her wits or her breath. She could just barely make out a female face before her own. It was little more than a pale patch in the darkness, but she could make out the dark eyes locked on her own, the cruel curl of lips just showing a hint of teeth. It was not Gloria, or the woman she had thought to be Gloria Swann before. The woman that had killed Alice Simmons and had tried to kill her. Would have killed her if not for Karl Braun. Now, however, Karl was no where about. Jennifer was alone with a madwoman that apparently wanted Karl, and probably her dead. Jennifer wanted to run. She wanted to scream or hide, but all she could do was stare wide-eyed into the darkness and babble—

Another scream echoed through the tunnels. Jennifer felt the woman's grip on her relax, felt the pressure of whatever sharp thing she held to her throat ease off if only slightly. Jennifer realized that this was probably the only best chance that she was going to get. The woman's attention was distracted, focusing on the fading scream. Jennifer drew her knee up with all of her might.

It was not as effective as it might have been against a man. Still, Jennifer knew that the area between a woman's legs was almost as tender, if only a little better protected. Her knee slammed up with enough force that she heard her attacker yelp in surprise and pain. Jennifer had actually lifted the woman up onto her toes with the force of the blow. She felt a knife tumble from the woman's hands as she came down and stumbled back, releasing her grip on Jennifer.

Jennifer knew that she had to press her advantage, so she screamed as loudly as she could and lunged forward. The bit actress, an amazon extra in the latest Gloria Swann vehicle, thrust her arms out before her and charged. Her palms slapped against the fleshy mounds of her assailant, but Jennifer paid the strange sensation no heed. She pushed, feeling the woman stagger backward under the force of her shoving. Jennifer hoped to slam her attacker back against the far wall with enough force to knock her senseless. With a final, mighty thrust Jennifer heaved and promptly tripped over a jutting stone unseen in the dirt.

Jennifer Higgins fell to her knees again, sprawling into the dirt. She heard another scream suddenly, a terrified shriek that slowly faded away into nothing. Jennifer felt a chill wash over her as she suddenly realized that her outstretched arms were hanging over the edge of a cliff.

Jennifer eased herself forward, pulling her body up to the lip of the precipice. Slowly, cautiously she peered over the edge, surprised that she could even see. There was a faint glow far below illuminating a vast gorge. Jennifer could see the sparkling reflections of the river that she had heard before, rushing through the darkness. It seemed a raging torrent, even from her vantage, and was a deafening roar as she hung her head over to look. There was another cliff, and another trail on the far side of the gorge. If there was ever a way across, it must have long since crumbled away because Jennifer could not see it.

Jennifer backed away from the edge of the cliff, the realization of what she had just done slowly dawning on her. When she felt her foot touch the wall behind her, she curled up onto her knees and wrapped her arms tightly about herself. Tears filled her eyes and her throat started to close as she choked on her sobs. She had just killed a woman. She had just killed another human being. She had not meant to of course, but that did not matter. She had killed the woman, pushed her to her death—

Jennifer clamped her hands over her mouth, trying to hold back the screams of horror over what she had done. Her eyes grew wide, hearing the sound of the woman's own fading scream over and over in her mind. She had not seen the cliff in the darkness. Neither of them had. Jennifer gasped—

"Karl…" she choked.

What if Karl had not seen the cliff either?

Jennifer Higgins started to scream, then slumped back against the cool rocky wall and promptly fainted dead away…

Angela Morgan cursed as she jammed the golden stickpin she had found into the locking mechanism of the heavy manacle still firmly attached to her wrist. She was sweating bullets in the humid confines of the cavern, and panic rapidly rose and fell within her in rhythm to her fluttering heartbeat. Her eyes were wide as she bit into her lower lip, trying to concentrate. It was hard, what with Gloria Swann's constant, endless screaming.

She chanced a glance up again, cursing as she felt the pin slip off of the tumblers one more time. She sighed, breathing deeply, trying to calm down as she stared at the nightmare come to life, rampaging just a few feet away. It was still hard to believe. Angela believed in magic, but the more simple prestidigitations of the likes of Mandrake, and the escapology of Houdini. Giant statues that came to life were far beyond her humble imaginings.

Angela stared at the hulking creature, the massive obsidian statue of the cat-man come to life. It had been the last desperate ploy of the now dead Queen of the Amazons, a final spell that with her blood had caused the idol to stir and move. Angela did not know why the Amazon queen would go to such lengths, or why she hated them so. Perhaps she hated any that came to her land. Maybe she was just afraid and wanting her people to live in peace in the jungle, untouched by the outside world. Maybe that was how she maintained her rule- through fear. Whatever, the secret would never be revealed. The Queen of the Amazons had died bringing her beast to life, and it was now intent on fulfilling her final wish – killing them!

Angela jammed the pin into the lock again, twisting until she felt the tumblers once more. She concentrated on the manacle, maneuvering the pin about inside the lock, but watched from the corner of her eye as the great beast stalked Gloria Swann across the dark chamber. Gloria was screaming to high heaven, scrambling through the dirt like a crippled mouse. Her ankles were still bound as the Amazons had tied her. She had not had the opportunity to catch a breath let alone free her legs. The giant cat-man seemed to know this and stalked Gloria, playing with her as a cat would a mouse. Every time it seemed that Gloria might crawl beyond its clutches and escape, the creature would spring through the air, landing with a graceful thud blocking her path. Or it might simply snake its tail out to wrap about Gloria's legs, dragging her back within easy reach. Sometimes it simply batted her down, then waited for her to try and crawl away again. It was a sick little game, but the cat-man seemed to be enjoying it.

Angela had no doubts that the beast was watching her as well. Its eyes were emerald jewels, faceted like a fly's, and Angela was certain that it was not missing a trick. Which was why she did not try to hide what she was doing. She noted that the cat-man was always within a quick stride or two of her. She was sure that it was confident that she would not escape, even if she threw her leash, the confining manacle about her wrist.

Angela heard a click and felt the manacle finally loosen about her wrist. She was careful not to show any elation. She showed no response in the fact that she was suddenly free, for in truth she was not. If she moved away from the totem, she was sure that the statue come to life would swat her down as it did Gloria over and over. It might tire of the game then, and kill them both on the spot. Still, she had to do something. Gloria was battered and bruised, and slowing down. And Angela saw that the starlet's eyes were wild and staring, her mind unable to come to grips with what was happening. Angela thought that her heroine might be going stark raving mad.

She watched as Gloria Swann scrambled through the dirt, trying in vain once again to crawl away from the stone beast. The creature watched as it had before, waiting, and at the last possible instant its tail snaked out from between its legs and wrapped about Gloria's bound ankles, dragging her back to it. It flung her back to the ground at its feet, cackling some cat laugh as it flicked a finger at her, making her squirm and squeal. Angela had to do something—

Screwing up her courage Angela charged forward, immediately wishing that she had not. She winced in pain as she stepped too hard on her twisted ankle, then gasped as she staggered forward, bending low to pick up the spear of the fallen Amazon – the first victim of the cat statue. Angela glanced across the chamber, spying the crumpled body of the Amazon warrior lying dead against the far wall that the creature had flung her into. She felt no pity, really, as the woman had been intent on killing she and Gloria, but still—

Angela ran forward, holding the spear high and trying to ignore the pain. Her ankle was throbbing. Her shoulder was bloody and raw from where the Amazon had shot an arrow just hours before. Her wrists were chaffed and bleeding from her struggles against the rusting manacles. She was hot and exhausted and just wanted it all to be over. But she had to help Gloria.

The creature snarled, watching as she ran towards it. It still held Gloria to the ground, crouching as though about to attack, but its emerald eyes were focused on Angela limping across the cavern carrying a spear. Gloria kept screaming and squirming in terror, though not really trying to get away. The movie star feebly beat her fists on the creature's arms, but it ignored her best efforts. It seemed to eye Angela with amusement—

Faster than she could follow the cat thing swatted her aside. It was like being hit by a sledgehammer she imagined as she was suddenly flying across the cave. Her arm went numb from the blow, but she somehow managed to hold onto the spear with her other hand. This gave her some comfort and satisfaction as she slammed against the wall. She saw stars, stars that slowly faded to splotches of gray as she bounced off of the wall and on top of the body of the broken Amazon. That final fright was the only reason she did not immediately fade away into unconsciousness.

Gloria Swann screamed as panic welled up within her once again. Through a haze of madness she saw the Morgan girl go flying across the cave and smash against the wall like a bird hurtling into a window. The creature had simply swatted her aside, then snarled its delight before turning its burning gaze back on Gloria. It was horrible. Horrible!

Gloria screamed again and the cat thing leaned in close, growling in her face, showing her a mouthful of jagged teeth. She did not feel its breath, though she should have. It was unbelievable, and she could not begin to comprehend how such a thing could be. Gloria's mind drifted back as she considered the cat creature considering her. She had done a film once; Attack of the Zombies or some such drivel. In it however there had been something called a golem in the script; a statue given life. Life it seemed was imitating art.

Then suddenly it was clear. As clear as crystal, or emeralds at least. Gloria giggled with the sudden simplicity, remembering that two-bit movie some twenty years before. The golem in the film had had a weakness; a jewel that was imbedded in its forehead. The cat creature had two similar jewels, emeralds for eyes.

Gloria squirmed, beating on the monster's arm as it leaned in close once more bearing ivory fangs in a fearsome snarl. Gloria's eyes went wide, thinking maybe that she had pushed the beast too far that time, but it just hunkered close, toying with her, scaring her. Gloria swallowed, and in a flash she reached up, snatching one of the emeralds from its housing…

Angela snapped out of her daze hearing the creature's agonized howl. She stared wide-eyed, watching as the beast reared back, clutching at its eye and staggering to the side. It smashed up against the totem that she had been chained to not so long before, lashing out blindly and shattering the old, solid wood with a forceful blow. Angela watched as it howled again, then lowered its paw. It was trying to focus, but Angela saw that it was having a hard time, and with good reason. One of its emerald eyes was missing.

Angela sat up, her head reeling with pain as she looked about, trying to figure out what had happened. The creature was staggering, howling and lashing out at empty air. She saw Gloria crawling away as quickly as her arms would drag her. The creature seemed to ignore her at last, too intent on its own pain. Angela saw something in Gloria's hand as well, something green that sparkled in the torchlight, but for just a moment it did not connect. Gloria entered the circle of light then, beaming down through an opening high above in the center of the cavern's dome-like roof. The green in her hand caught the light, suddenly exploding in a dazzling brilliance. It was the emerald, Angela realized. The cat's eye—

The creature howled and shambled forward, straight for the light, and Gloria! Angela struggled to her feet, her every movement agony. She braced against the slick rock wall, using the spear as a crutch, trying to stand. She heard the cat thing's anger, felt the ground tremble with every step it took –

"Gloria!" she shouted, staggering forward, knowing that she would never reach the starlet in time. "Throw away the jewel, Gloria! The emerald-"

The creature reared back, claws extended, ready to strike!

Angela screamed! Gloria screamed! The creature screamed—

There was a flurry of motion and suddenly Angela saw that someone had run forward out of the shadows and leaped onto the creature's back. The cat-thing howled, reaching back to claw at the new attacker. It staggered into the circle of light, and only by blind luck managed to avoid crushing Gloria as she stared up in horror, too stricken to move.

Angela Morgan ran forward as fast as she could, ignoring the pain that shot through her leg with every step. Her shoulder pulsed as she hefted the spear, though what use it might be against the thing she had no idea. The monster flailed about, groping for the person on its back; the man clinging with his arms wrapped about the creature's throat. Angela gasped, feeling her heart rise into her throat—

"Karl…" she whispered, running forward all the faster.

It was Karl Braun, clutching to the creature's back like a maniac, hanging on for dear life. Karl Braun, Angela's mentor, the man that had taught her most of what she knew in the trade; stunts, acting, escapology. He had been like a father to her for more years than she cared to count. More of a father than her own had been able to be. Angela screamed—

"Karl!"

She saw Karl Braun's gaze turn her direction, and just for a moment their eyes locked. She saw the love, the delight in the knowledge that she was still alive. He must have thought she had died in her fall from the biplane, the stunt that had been sabotaged by the Amazons. They all thought that she was dead. That was why no one had found her, or even come looking for her. No one but Karl—

Angela screamed and fell to her knees as she saw the creature reach back and rake its claws across the width of Karl's back. Karl cried out in agony as his eyes rolled up into his head. Angela saw his grip about the creature's neck falter, but with his last ounce of strength he managed to hold on. At least until the monster reached back again.

The beast yelled its rage. Angela heard it but tried not to look, too afraid of what she might see. She forced her legs to start moving again, planting the butt of the spear into the dirt to lever herself up. She started running, faster and faster, ignoring again the pain in her ankle, the pains shooting all through her body. She could hear the cat-man raging. She could hear Karl's moans as he struggled to hold onto the beast, and Gloria's cries as she tried to get away. Angela hefted the spear in her hands and looked up, wishing she had not—

Gloria Swann had managed to scurry away and was finally unloosing the ropes coiled about her ankles. As soon as she was free, Angela knew that she would be up and running, and out of the way. Karl still clutched at the statue's neck and shoulders, but just barely. Angela could see his strength fading, his face growing paler with the monster's thrashing about. The back of his shirt was soaked with blood, and Angela knew that he would not be able to hang on much longer. It was up to her then, and she had to hurry.

"Karl!" she shouted, charging right in front of the creature and brandishing the spear. "Let go, Karl! Jump off!" Angela jabbed up with the spear, wincing as the polished flint tip scraped across the slick black stone that was the beast's skin creating a shower of sparks. The monster turned its one-eyed gaze on her, snarling its annoyance, but otherwise unaffected. It swatted a massive paw at her, but she ducked, trying to deflect the blow with the spear over her head. The force of the swing almost tore the staff from her grip, and she felt the wood crack with the glancing blow.

"Engel—" Karl cried out, his voice weak and cracking. Angela felt her heart skip a beat as she looked up, seeing the anguish on her old friend's face. "Run, Engel! Run—"

Angela watched on in horror as the beast snatched Karl Braun's limp form from its back. The stunt master's grip slipped free easily at the creature's tug, and all at once Karl was dangling in the grip of the beast trapped between its claws. She cried out, reaching for him, but the cat-thing ignored her pleas, throwing her mentor to the ground between them, like a rag-doll. Angela saw his body bounce, heard his bones shatter. Then in a flash, the creature smashed its paw down, driving its sharp claws through Karl Braun's chest, pinning him to the floor like a butterfly to a board. Angela heard Gloria's new fit of screams as she watched Karl's body convulse from the pain and shock. He coughed; spitting blood as the panther statue slipped its claws back out, ripping Karl's chest even more. Karl Braun coughed once again, then lay still.

Angela screamed her pain and loss, her anger spewing forth as she rammed the spear forward. She jabbed the spear up into the panther's face, trying to drive it back as she stepped across Karl's body trying to protect it. The creature roared, batting at the stick as it flailed about its face. Angela saw the monster's ears lay back, its muzzle wrinkle as it bared its fangs. It was done toying with them, she thought—

The monster lurched forward; dropping to all fours then sweeping at Angela, claws splayed. Angela blocked the panther's attack with the shaft of the spear, but the force of the blow splintered it in two and sent her flying back. She landed hard on her buttocks in the dirt, unseen bells ringing in her ears. The cat-thing reared above her, jaws wide, ready to strike—

Something snapped against the creature's stone skin, shattering on impact with enough force to give the beast pause. It looked up and about as another – an arrow – bounced off of its rock-hard neck. Still, the cat-thing yowled, more annoyed than anything. Angela scrambled back; crab walking away as the panther sniffed the air, trying to find the new attacker. Angela craned her neck as another arrow bounced off the creature's hide, and finally saw Gloria Swann.

The movie star was across the temple chamber, standing where the Amazons had set up their makeshift camp. She looked an awesome, awful sight standing in her brassier and silk slip, her hair a tangled matted mess, drawing back a long arrow on a short wooden bow. It was the very bow that the Amazon had used against Angela she guessed, the Amazon now dead against the wall of the cavern. Angela could see Gloria trembling as she let fly another shaft, and was surprised to see it strike its target. She had not missed yet, but unfortunately the arrows did little damage and only angered the beast. Still, any help was better than none.

Angela Morgan scrambled to her feet once again. She still had the two halves of the spear in her hands, but figured them to be useless. The cavern was littered with archaic weapons, however. It was simply a matter of finding one that she could lift and use. She cast a quick worried glance at the creature, crouching and batting at Gloria's arrows in annoyance. It eyed her, but was distracted as Angela cast her gaze about for a new weapon – another spear, or a sword—

"Angela!"

Angela looked up at Gloria's warning, just in time to see the cat-man pounce. It was in mid-air, almost upon her, its arms spread wide like one of the great jungle cats it emulated. Its ivory claws and fangs were truly dazzling in the torchlight, its one emerald eye crackling like fire. Angela cried out in a sudden panic and fell back. With pure survival instinct, she brought her hands up to shield her face as the creature dropped upon her. The claws slashed at her sides, her legs. She felt the creature's teeth as they grazed past her ear, snagging in her hair. Its growl deafened her, its hulking stone mass covering her like a blanket, wrapping her in darkness…

"Angela…"

Angela Morgan gingerly opened her eyes. The light was dim, the air still thick with the smells of smoke and incense, so she suspected that she was still in the cavern – the Amazon temple. But she was still alive, and of that she was surprised. She craned her neck, trying to focus on the soft sounds of the voice she heard and promptly moaned as her muscles protested the sudden movement.

"Oh, Angela. Thank god…"

Angela looked up and saw the laughing, tear-streaked face of Jennifer Higgins smiling down on her. She was crying, but happy tears of joy streaking the dirt that was dried and caked on her face. She looked a right mess.

"Lord, Jennifer," Angela croaked, coughing. "What happened to you?"

Jennifer grinned and leaned over her friend, giving her a tight squeeze that made Angela moan all the more. Angela suddenly gasped however, and sat up, pushing her friend aside—

"The panther!" she cried out, trying to get to her feet. Her abused and aching ankle gave way though, and she was soon back on her butt. She felt Jennifer's hand on her shoulder—

"Easy! Easy, Angela. It's dead." Angela followed where Jennifer was pointing and saw the creature, or what was left of it. Gloria Swann was standing amidst the crumbled remains of the cat statue. In her hands she held one of the archaic weapons that had been littering the floor; a Spanish battle-axe, by the look of it. She was wielding it like a sledgehammer, striking the larger chunks of obsidian with all the force that she could muster, breaking up what was apparently left of the creature, turning it to gravel and dust. Angela was confused—

"What – what happened?" Angela looked at Jennifer, hoping for an answer, but her friend simply shrugged.

"I stumbled in here just at the last of all the action. That – that thing was attacking you. I thought it was gonna rip you to pieces. I started to run forward when I saw Gloria over there with a bow." Jennifer pointed. "She fired an arrow and it hit that thing right in the head. It screamed, and grabbed at its eye about the same time I saw you ram a stick at it. Then it just seemed to tremble and break apart. It collapsed right on top of you. Me and Gloria ran over to help, to dig you out, and we dragged you over here. Then Gloria picked up that axe and started bustin' the thing up into little pieces. I never heard nobody curse like that, lemme tell you."

Angela stared at the movie star for a moment. The woman had more gusto than she had given her credit. Gloria Swann looked a filthy mess, covered in dirt, dripping in sweat, but right then she looked awesome as well, and Angela remembered why the woman had been her heroine growing up.

"Karl…"

Jennifer shook her head with a frown. "He's dead, Angela. I'm sorry. Alice too. Karl and I found her, mauled to death. We thought that Gloria had done it. We saw her, but then Karl said that it wasn't her. I'm confused…"

"Me too, Jenn…" Angela said, leaning back and trying to relax. "Me too…"

It had taken the three women the better part of that night to walk back to the plateau and the film camp. They had tended their wounds and cleaned up as best they could in the water supply that the Amazon warriors had left behind. It had not taken long for them to find their way from the caverns with no one chasing them, and as it turned out, Jennifer had been only a few yards from an exit where she had fought and killed the final Amazon.

Jennifer had told her friends of her travails in the jungle as well as in the caves. How she had come upon the Amazon queen – still disguised as Gloria- in the act of killing poor Alice Simmons. How Karl Braun had saved her, but then how they had both fallen into the caves. She told how Karl had run ahead upon hearing the screams of Angela and Gloria, and how she had then pushed the Amazon warrior over the cliff in the tunnels after a short but fierce struggle. Angela could tell that Jennifer was upset over that, and she and Gloria both tried to comfort her, and told her that it was not her fault. The Amazons had been trying to kill them in the end, and it was self-defense. That eased Jennifer's conscious a bit, but Angela knew that what Jennifer had done would haunt the girl till her dying day.

Angela and Gloria in turn told their tales on the long walk back to camp. Gloria, how she had been kidnapped, and how the Amazon queen had then stolen her face to infiltrate the film company. Angela, and how she had survived the plunge from the biplane stunt only to become lost in the caverns. How the two women had met up, and their battles then with the Amazons and their disfigured queen, and finally the statue of the cat-man come to life. It sounded ridiculous as the three women swapped tales, like stories out of a dime novel or pulp magazine, but it passed the time. They mourned for Alice, and especially for Karl, and wished that they could have brought the bodies out of the jungle, but they were all just too tired and injured. They could barely carry themselves, and more often than not the three women were leaning on one another every step of the way.

It was dawn as the women trudged up the trail that ran up the side of the plateau. A bloated orange sun just topped the jungle canopy to the east, scarring the sky a bloody red. It would be storming again, probably that night, as it was the start of the rainy season in Brazil. The three women all hoped they would be away from the damned jungle soon.

The camp was just coming awake as they staggered within sight. Stagehands were up and about, stirring the dying fires and readying the morning meal. Angela saw Pitt fussing over his plane far across the top of the plateau. They marched on, unobserved, and it was Jimmy Barton the camera operator, just coming out of the latrine, that finally saw them.

"Holy cow!" he shouted, staring in disbelief as the three women trudged by him, ignoring his exclamations.

His shouts had stirred the camp however, and within moments the three women were surrounded by the cast and crew. They were battered with questions, probing hands trying to support them and help them on the final leg of their journey, the last few yards. They were all filthy and smelling, and tired beyond endurance. Jennifer wanted nothing more than to collapse onto her cot in her tent and sleep for a week.

It was Kathy Parker, the crew nurse that finally brought some order to the mob surrounding the women. She had them taken to her tent, sending Jimmy off to rouse Jonathan. She drug Martha and Carol into her tent as well, then ordered everyone else out while they tended to the women and their wounds. It took some time, even with Kathy directing Martha and Carol, to clean the women up properly and bandage their wounds. It was some fifteen minutes later when Jonathan Harkins burst into the nurse's tent.

"My god!" he grumbled upon seeing the three women. Angela and Jennifer were lying on cots, their legs splinted and tightly wrapped. Angela had bandages wrapped about her ribs and wrists as well, and her shoulder was swathed in rags and gauze. Kathy Parker was hunched over Jennifer, plucking dirt and gravel from the scabs on her knees. Gloria Swann was half submerged in a tub of steaming water, Carol knuckling her aching back while Martha dabbed at the woman's wrists with alcohol. The tent was filled with cigarette smoke.

"Where the devil have you three been?" Jonathan snapped, striding into the tent, ignoring Gloria's nakedness. "We've all been worried sick!"

"What?" Angela started to rise, but Kathy held her back.

"Jonathan-"

The director waved the nurse off, wanting her to be silent. He turned, leveling a finger at Gloria Swann. "You, Gloria! You should know better. Why you went charging off into the jungle when we had shots to complete, I'll never know. Now where's Braun, and the Simmons girl? I suppose we'll have to wait on their sweet return, eh?"

"Karl's dead, Jonathan. So's Alice." Gloria stared at the director coolly, taking a drag off of her cigarette before tossing it aside. She stood up in the old metal wash tub, water dripping from her naked body and looked Harkins up and down. He seemed dumbfounded, thinking perhaps that he should have come into the tent with a bit more concern. Still—

"Well, I'm sorry for that, but we still have a film to finish, Gloria. Your film! You told me that no matter what we would finish this-"

"It is finished, Jonathan. It's over." Gloria Swann stepped shakily from the tub, accepting the towel that Martha handed her and quickly dried herself. "We'll take what we have and make do. Too many people have paid the price for my vanity. DeGrassi, Alice, Karl…that's enough. More than it should have been."

"Gloria…" Harkins pleaded. "Don't be stupid. We can turn this all around. We can-"

"You're fired, Jonathan." Gloria Swann shrugged into her robe as the other women in the tent stared on in disbelief. Angela had sensed that the movie star had changed since their shared adventure, but she had never expected this.

Harkins blinked. "You can't fire me!"

"I can, Jonathan. And I just did. Read your contract. I have final say on all matters. Everything! We are going to take what we have and get the hell out of this jungle. Swan Productions will put together what we have into something that will get us some money, but as far as filming, this movie is done." Gloria Swann lit another cigarette and took a long drag, staring all the while at Harkins.

Jonathan Harkins, one of Hollywood's most respected directors looked about the tent, meeting in turn the gaze of each of the six women gathered there and knew that he was totally alone. He sighed, not being a total fool, and turned to leave, but as he was about to duck under the tent flap he glanced back at the high and mighty Gloria Swann—

"You can't get away with this, Gloria. You'll hear from my lawyer!" and then he was gone.

The tent was silent for a long moment, none of the women quite sure what to say. It was Gloria, oddly, who finally broke the silence—

"Prick!" she smirked, then looked at the others.

"Ladies, I do need a drink…"

Mann's Chinese Theater, Hollywood
Later that same year…

It was one of the coldest nights on record, and the weathermen were actually considering snow in the forecast. Gloria Swann, star of stage and screen, the leading lady of Tinsel Town stepped out of the theater and turned her fur collar against the seasonal chill.

The glare of flash bulbs exploded about her as she smiled, waiting for Kaine to catch up with her. Off to one side she saw the newsreel cameras cranking and she waved happily, flashing her million-dollar smile. She was dressed to the nines; her long mink brushing along the red carpet they had laid for her premiere, her hair coifed just so, accentuated with the most stylish cap. Her hands were sheathed in the finest black kid leather, and she waved, showing off the gloves for her fans, those few that lived to see her and what she wore. They cheered, of course, the velvet ropes and security barely holding back the hundreds that had turned out to see her latest, final epic.

The Queen of Escapes was a success. The crowds in the theater had cheered when they were supposed to, and laughed and cried. They had shown the entire serial in one setting, editing together the twelve episodes back to back into one non-stop thrill ride that had lasted almost five hours. The fans had loved it. The critics had seemed pleased, jotting down notes in their little black books, and careful not to miss a moment of the action. There was applause when the final credits rolled, after she and Kaine had kissed, flying off into the setting sun. They had risen to their feet when they saw the final dedication to Alice Simmons, and Karl Braun, the greatest stunt master that had ever lived. Gloria smiled. It had been a nice touch, the right thing to do.

Adam Kaine finally came up beside her, waving to the crowd and smiling. Truly, he had had very little to do in the movie – just a cameo appearance really, but he had a name, and he drew in the young girls. He had been needed, and he was paid well if only for his name. He would have another hit to add to his list when the serial was released nation wide for Thanksgiving. There would be no awards, of course, but he would get his money, and his fame. They all would, though it no longer really mattered. Gloria had what she wanted, all that she needed, for herself as well as the others.

Adam Kaine took her arm and Gloria allowed him to walk her down the carpet towards the awaiting limousines. It was tradition, the star and starlet arm in arm walking through the crowds after the premiere. They waved and smiled, waved and smiled, almost going blind in the explosion of flash bulbs. When they reached the end of the red carpet, Adam kissed her hand, as was expected, then waited to help her into her car.

Gloria turned as a cheer went up through the crowd, suspecting somehow that it was not for her. Just coming out of the theater, at the lead of the lesser cast members she saw Angela. Angela Morgan looked beautiful, and Gloria sighed, seeing herself as she had been over a decade before. She was young, her hair styled fashionably, the white lock on her brow no longer hidden by a cheap theatrical rinse. She wore a gown that accentuated her bright green eyes, her own fur coat open to the cold night air. She had snagged Crabbe for her escort, as she was slated to be his leading lady in his next space adventure, 'Flash' something or other. Her first starring role. Gloria was pleased. She deserved it after all her hard work. After all that she had been through. Gloria waved to Angela, waved and smiled.

Angela saw and waved back, her own smile shining brightly. She had given Angela full credits in the film, the gentle nudge that the girl had needed to get her career going. The crowd had loved her, and cheered to see her name at the end of the movie. Gloria saw the starlet wink and finger a small pendant she had taken to wearing; a little chip of emerald set in gold. There were only two others like it in the world, cut from one of the two largest emeralds ever brought out of the South American jungles. Gloria had the second necklace, and the third belonged to a young woman named Higgins who had returned to St. Louis with Gloria Swann's good graces.

Gloria Swann smiled knowingly, and with a final wave to her fans turned and slipped into the rear compartment of her limousine. Kaine started to climb in after her, but she waved him back, dismissing him. She did not need him anymore. He looked a little shocked, but knew better than to complain as he backed out of the car and shut the door. She was Gloria Swann, after all.

Gloria Swann, the Queen of Escapes!

Claws of the Cat © Curt Fernlund 2002 - 2007. Original Logo, running cat and claw marks by Word Mill Optical (Used with Permission).

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