n that must grind everything to bits! The island was
doomed! And Earth would be better without it.

If only they could reach the _Ariel_ first!

New strength flowed through him, and hugging Vilma close, he staggered
toward the spot where he knew the door must be. Somehow he reached it,
and reeled down the broken stone steps.

The plain of dead trees swayed like the deck of a ship in a storm as
Cliff started across it. A gale had arisen and swept in from the sea,
ripping dry branches from the skeleton growths and whirling them about
like straws. Yet somehow Cliff reached the crevice in the rock wall
with his burden, reached the deck of the galley, crossed it, and won
to the safety of the _Ariel_. Minutes later, with Diesel engines
purring, they crept out through the narrow channel into the open sea.

* * * * *

Ten minutes later the Isle of the Undead lay safely behind them. Vilma
had dressed; and now they sat together in the pilot house. Cliff had
one arm about her, and one hand on the wheel.

"And so," the girl was saying, "while Corio carried you to that
terrible old boat, I got loose. He hadn't tied me very tightly, and I
slipped my hands free. I had to hide, and I could think of only one
place that might be safe, where he wouldn't think to look for me. I
ran down to the room where those--those others lay; I undressed, and
buried myself among them. It was horrible--the way they sucked each
other's wounds...."

Cliff pressed a hand across her lips. "Forget that!" he said almost
fiercely. "Forget all of it--d'you hear?"

She looked up at him and said simply: "I'll try."

They glanced back toward the black blotch on the horizon. The seismic
disturbances continued unabated. At that moment they saw the barrier
of rock like a skull split and sink into the sea. Beyond, cleansing
tongues of flame licked the sky. They saw a single jagged wall of the
castle still standing, one window glowing in its black expanse like a
square, bloody moon against a bloody sky. It crumbled.

They turned away, and Cliff's arm circled the girl he loved. Their
lips met and clung.... And the _Ariel_ plowed on through the frothing
brine, bearing them toward safety and forgetfulness.... Together.

* * * * *

End of Project Gutenberg's Isle of the Undead, by Lloyd Arthur Eshbach

*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ISLE OF THE UNDEAD ***

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