another sign. Horrors Of War Museum! Gruesome Scenes from Ethiopia! Spain! Poland! Children Admitted FREE!
“A little behind the times, that museum,” said the Avenger as he tracked the Iron Skull along the dead street.
The deserted amusement park was filled with silence and darkness.
There was a faint creaking to his right. Only the horses on the merry-go-round, frozen in their galloping poses, shaken now by the night wind.
Silence again.
Then all at once a thin beam of scarlet light came sizzling down from up on his left.
It hit a spot on the wooden front of a Coney Island Red Hot stand about five inches from Benson’s head. The words Red Hot burned away as the beam ate through the wood.
The Avenger flattened out on the snow and fired his pistol up toward the spot where the spurt of deadly light had originated.
Through the darkness and falling snow he made out the seated figure of the Iron Skull. He had wheeled himself out onto a balcony of the Sea Life Museum.
The Iron Skull cried out in pain as the Avenger’s shot creased his flesh shoulder. He wheeled himself back and out of range.
“Got a ray gun of some kind built into that metal hand of his,” said Benson, rising. He ran across the street to the main entrance of the museum.
Kicking the door open, he stood back.
Nothing happened.
The Avenger crossed into the dark building, alert.
There was still a strong briny sea smell in the big room. Large glass-walled tanks lined the high room, all empty and dried out.
Terrors of the Deep said a sign over the arched staircase which led upstairs.
“Stairs are too obvious.” Benson got used to the darkness and then ran over to a post which supported the cut-away second floor.
Shinnying up the pole, he swung over the wooden guard rail and onto the landing.
Something went rolling down a hallway up ahead of him. It was the Iron Skull’s wheelchair.
Ducking low, the Avenger inched toward the chair. It had come to rest near a high window which looked out onto a boat lagoon.
He had covered about fifteen feet when he realized that the wheelchair was empty. The Iron Skull was no longer in it.
Crackling out of the darkness on his right a wedge of burning light came. It cut across his cheek, burning away flesh, turning the left-behind skin black.
Benson fired twice into the dark.
Something fell.
Pressing himself against the nearest wall, the Avenger waited.
Nearly a half-minute later, the Iron Skull went tottering toward the high window. He grabbed hold of his wheelchair and sent it careening at the Avenger. Then he jumped through the window.
Glass went kaleidoscoping out into the night.
As he moved closer to the window the Avenger became aware of spots of something black on the dark floor. Blood. So he had wounded the Iron Skull.
He stepped to the sill of the broken window and peered out.
A burning shaft of light came shooting up from a few feet below.
Instead of pulling back, the Avenger threw himself out of the window.
The Iron Skull had apparently landed on a balcony a few feet below the window and had waited there to take another shot at Benson with the lethal ray from his metal hand.
The Avenger missed the balcony and fell on down into the black chilly water of the boat lagoon.
He stayed under for several seconds, frog-kicking away from the spot where he’d gone in. There were two flat-bottomed boats a few yards away. The Avenger came up on the far side of these, treading water.
The water was boiling about twenty feet in front of him. The Iron Skull was still on his balcony, using now the ray that emanated from his eye socket.
Then the glowing eye flickered and went dead. The Iron Skull’s lethal ray was apparently not capable of sustained power. This was one defective feature Blau-Montag could not blame on someone else’s stupidity. He pushed his way through a small window off the balcopy and went back into the museum.
Benson swam across the lagoon and pulled himself out on the boarding
“A little behind the times, that museum,” said the Avenger as he tracked the Iron Skull along the dead street.
The deserted amusement park was filled with silence and darkness.
There was a faint creaking to his right. Only the horses on the merry-go-round, frozen in their galloping poses, shaken now by the night wind.
Silence again.
Then all at once a thin beam of scarlet light came sizzling down from up on his left.
It hit a spot on the wooden front of a Coney Island Red Hot stand about five inches from Benson’s head. The words Red Hot burned away as the beam ate through the wood.
The Avenger flattened out on the snow and fired his pistol up toward the spot where the spurt of deadly light had originated.
Through the darkness and falling snow he made out the seated figure of the Iron Skull. He had wheeled himself out onto a balcony of the Sea Life Museum.
The Iron Skull cried out in pain as the Avenger’s shot creased his flesh shoulder. He wheeled himself back and out of range.
“Got a ray gun of some kind built into that metal hand of his,” said Benson, rising. He ran across the street to the main entrance of the museum.
Kicking the door open, he stood back.
Nothing happened.
The Avenger crossed into the dark building, alert.
There was still a strong briny sea smell in the big room. Large glass-walled tanks lined the high room, all empty and dried out.
Terrors of the Deep said a sign over the arched staircase which led upstairs.
“Stairs are too obvious.” Benson got used to the darkness and then ran over to a post which supported the cut-away second floor.
Shinnying up the pole, he swung over the wooden guard rail and onto the landing.
Something went rolling down a hallway up ahead of him. It was the Iron Skull’s wheelchair.
Ducking low, the Avenger inched toward the chair. It had come to rest near a high window which looked out onto a boat lagoon.
He had covered about fifteen feet when he realized that the wheelchair was empty. The Iron Skull was no longer in it.
Crackling out of the darkness on his right a wedge of burning light came. It cut across his cheek, burning away flesh, turning the left-behind skin black.
Benson fired twice into the dark.
Something fell.
Pressing himself against the nearest wall, the Avenger waited.
Nearly a half-minute later, the Iron Skull went tottering toward the high window. He grabbed hold of his wheelchair and sent it careening at the Avenger. Then he jumped through the window.
Glass went kaleidoscoping out into the night.
As he moved closer to the window the Avenger became aware of spots of something black on the dark floor. Blood. So he had wounded the Iron Skull.
He stepped to the sill of the broken window and peered out.
A burning shaft of light came shooting up from a few feet below.
Instead of pulling back, the Avenger threw himself out of the window.
The Iron Skull had apparently landed on a balcony a few feet below the window and had waited there to take another shot at Benson with the lethal ray from his metal hand.
The Avenger missed the balcony and fell on down into the black chilly water of the boat lagoon.
He stayed under for several seconds, frog-kicking away from the spot where he’d gone in. There were two flat-bottomed boats a few yards away. The Avenger came up on the far side of these, treading water.
The water was boiling about twenty feet in front of him. The Iron Skull was still on his balcony, using now the ray that emanated from his eye socket.
Then the glowing eye flickered and went dead. The Iron Skull’s lethal ray was apparently not capable of sustained power. This was one defective feature Blau-Montag could not blame on someone else’s stupidity. He pushed his way through a small window off the balcopy and went back into the museum.
Benson swam across the lagoon and pulled himself out on the boarding
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