The Peregrine Omnibus Volume One (24 page)

Lycos stopped immediately, his breath sounding quite loud through the gas mask he wore. Smitty knew that a chemical accident had badly scarred Lycos’ features and some in the gang wondered if it hadn’t unbalanced his mind, as well. Lycos wore the mask 24 hours a day, even when there was no risk of being exposed to the gas they’d all dubbed the Gasping Death. It was said that Lycos had a terrible fear of people seeing his face—and had killed everyone who had. “Interesting. Perhaps they’ll keep each other so occupied that we’ll be able to proceed without further interference.”

“Uh, boss,” Smitty said, hesitating before bringing up what would be a thorny subject. “The cops… they recovered our guys from the blimp. And they got some of the Gasping Death solution, too—not much, ’cause the guys had emptied most of it before the Peregrine shot ’em down, but they do have some of it now.”

Lycos waved a hand dismissively. “The brutes they employ won’t be able to crack my formula. The Gasping Death is my life’s work—no, we have no concerns there. But as for our men… they may talk in hopes of getting lenient sentences. Something will have to be done about that.”

Smitty watched in confusion as his employer moved to a closet and retrieved a small radio transmitter. The hidden base that they called home had been paid for with dirty money and the authorities wouldn’t be able to trace Lycos to it… but he’d had the same fears about their boys talking to the cops. The question was what did Lycos think he could do about it?

“All of you enjoyed that feast I paid for after the bank heist, didn’t you?” Lycos asked, flipping a dial and activating the transmitter. An eerie hum filled the air.

“Sure we did, boss. It was the biggest meal some of us had ever eaten.”

“Implanted within the food were small capsules that can rest in the lining of the stomach for up to four years.” Lycos looked over at Smitty. “If any of the boys get out of line… this transmitter will cause the capsule to break apart, releasing highly concentrated does of the Gasping Death into their bloodstream.”

Smitty felt a shiver of revulsion go down his spine. He pictured those poor souls right now, their bodies seizing up in terrible agony. There would be no hope for them—not with the stuff already inside them. He placed a hand on his own belly as he thought about the full ramifications of the professor’s words. “You could kill me too, couldn’t you?” he asked.

“Of course… but I won’t need to do that, will I?” Lycos asked teasingly. “Because you’re going to be loyal to the end, aren’t you?”

“Of course I will, boss. To the end.”

Lycos nodded, finally turning off the transmitter. It only needed to be run briefly—once the order was received by the capsule in their bellies, things would proceed along their own course. “I have a package I want delivered to the police chief. I won’t be as nice from now on—this Peregrine has made me angry!”

Smitty moved to do as his master wanted—now that he knew just how far gone Lycos was, there was no alternative.

CHAPTER IX

Evelyn Returns

Max sat in bed, eyes tightly closed. There was a pounding in the back of his skull, a familiar sort of agony that had haunted him since his childhood. The act of seeing his father gunned down had set in motion a series of events that would eventually lead to the creation of the Peregrine. Foremost amongst these events was that Max’s father, Warren Davies, remained behind on Earth as a ghost. Warren haunted his son, helping to awaken the boy’s latent mental abilities in the hopes that he would grow into the sort of man who would take revenge on the types of criminals who had slain him. Through vivid, sometimes painful visions, Max’s father was able to give his son clues to the future… warnings of evil tidings that would threaten innocents.

Those visions were more painful than usual now. They seemed to cause a terrible ache in the demon-induced scar on Max’s left palm, making it burn horribly.

At the moment, however, Max merely gritted his teeth and rode out the vision, carefully sorting through its contents in hopes of discovering what direction the Peregrine should take.

Max saw himself standing in the middle of a burning building, expensive tapestries going up in flames. The Moon Man was there, his features hidden behind an odd helmet shaped of Argus glass, painted to resemble the craggy terrain of the moon. The third man there was obviously Prof. Lycos, for he wore a long overcoat and a gas mask, matching the descriptions given by witnesses to the bank heist. Max could tell that he himself was injured, for blood flowed freely from a wound on his left side… but far more painful was the intense throbbing in his palm. The scar given him by Nyarlathotep felt like it was about to split open…

Max gasped as the vision passed, leaving him covered in sweat and his heart hammering. In recent times, he’d come to some sort of relationship with his deceased father—in fact, he’d thought once or twice that they might actually become friends. But when he sent these damned visions it eradicated all the good will that Max felt for the man. Each and every one of them came directly from the realm beyond life, channeled from Max’s father directly into his son’s psyche.

A soft rapping at his hotel room door made him jump, but he was soon on his feet, pistol in hand. “Who’s there?” he asked, raising his voice so that it could be heard clearly through the walls.

“Open the door and find out,” a familiar voice answered and it filled him with pleasure to hear it.

“Evelyn,” he exclaimed, pulling open the door so quickly that he forgot that he still held the pistol in his grip. He followed her surprised gaze and tossed it away, pulling her to him. She looked ravishing, her auburn-tinted hair full of curls and her eyes sparkling. “How on earth did you find me?”

“I heard about the Peregrine on the radio,” she explained, kissing his cheek and breezing into the room, several small bags in her arms. “And since filming ended a bit early, I took the train to Great City. And here I am, ready to help.”

Max grinned, setting his gun down on the nightstand. Ever since she’d discovered his dual identity, Evelyn had served as his makeshift sidekick—or “partner,” to use the term she preferred. In truth, she’d come a long way in that regard and had actually saved his life on several occasions. “I actually have a dual purpose at the moment: I’m supposed to tracking down the Moon Man, but there’s also the matter of this Prof. Lycos.”

“All the more reason to have a partner about,” Evelyn said. She put her hands on her hips and regarded him. “You look simply awful.”

“Why thank you, dear,” he deadpanned. “I had a vision. I think this Lycos fellow is more dangerous than I would have first thought. His Gasping Death gas has the entire city in an uproar and I can’t blame them. It’s a horribly gruesome way to die.”

Evelyn nodded, absorbing his words before speaking. It was one of the things he loved most about her—the way she analyzed every situation before acting. “Then I’d say deal with Lycos first. He is a sadist and a murderer. The Moon Man’s a simple thief.”

“My thinking as well. In fact, I…”

Max’s words trailed off as both husband and wife heard a small thumping sound against his hotel room window.

“What was that?” Evelyn asked, watching as her husband moved to open the curtains.

“I have no idea… but it sounded odd, didn’t it?”

Max pulled the curtains apart and blinked in surprise. What he saw seemed patently absurd at first, but a rapid realization hit him that this was no dream or joke. Balanced perilously on the small ledge outside the window was the Moon Man… and he held the muzzle of a gun tight against the glass, pointed directly at Max’s head.

“Mr. Davies,” the domed figure said, his voice sounding oddly distorted by the strange mask. “May I come in?”

“I don’t see where you’re leaving me any choice,” Max replied, unlatching the window and swinging it open. “If you’re looking to steal from me, you’re out of luck. I’m traveling light.”

The Moon Man paused when he realized that Davies wasn’t alone… but there was no turning back now, not with Sue lying ill in the hospital and that maniac Lycos still on the loose. “Actually,” he began, dropping to his feet on the carpeted floor. “I wanted to discuss the Peregrine.”

CHAPTER X

Clash of Heroes

It was Evelyn who acted first, surprising both men with her actions. She sprang forward, throwing her left leg up in a deadly arc. Her foot struck the Moon Man squarely on the side of his helmet, knocking him off-balance and causing his aim to drift.

Max moved to take advantage, grabbing hold of the vigilante’s wrist and wrestling with him for control of the pistol. He didn’t harbor any doubts about whether or not the Moon Man knew of his dual identity—it was quite obvious from his presence that he knew Max and the Peregrine were one and the same—so he threw caution to the wind and yelled “Evelyn! My gun!”

Max’s wife was already there, pulling the specially modified weapon up into her grip. She pointed it at the struggling men but held off on firing for fear of hitting her lover.

“Mr. Davies,” the Moon Man hissed, his voice sounding oddly distorted by the helmet. “Don’t do this.”

“You’re the one barging into another man’s apartment,” Max pointed out.

The Moon Man suddenly relaxed his grip, allowing Max to momentarily take control of the gun. Using boxing techniques taught him by Angel, the Moon Man belted his opponent hard in the chin. Max flew backwards, the gun landing on the floor, where it slid under the bed.

Max wiped at his bloodied lower lip with the back of a hand before retaliating. Unlike the Moon Man, Max had traveled the world, training under many of the greatest fighters known to man. He parried another attack from the Moon Man, feinted to his left, and then kicked the vigilante’s legs out from under him.

The Moon Man, however, was not so easily foiled. He rolled out of the way of a finishing blow, managing to drive the back of his elbow into Max’s side. “I don’t want to hurt you, Davies. Honestly. I’m not the man you think I am! “

“Really? And what kind of man
are
you exactly? “

The Moon Man backed away, gasping. Evelyn had a clean shot now, but something held her back. She wanted to give this helmeted figure a chance to explain himself. “The kind who risks his life on a daily basis, Mr. Davies. The kind of man who takes the ill-gotten gains from those who profit off the suffering of others and makes sure that those monies end up in the hands of the needy.”

“You’re wanted for murder, remember?” Max retorted.

The Moon Man sighed, raising his hands in submission. “I’m innocent… but that’s going to haunt me for the rest of my days. Look… sometimes you have to go outside the law to see justice done. You have done it often enough, haven’t you? Why would you even try to bring me in?”

“It’s… a favor to a friend.” Max relaxed his stance, shaking his head as he did so. “You’re right, though. My actions as the Peregrine aren’t much different than yours. I wonder if Benson knows that. Maybe he wanted me to come here to learn some lesson about myself.”

“Honey,” Evelyn whispered. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“That thing where you think out loud and disturb people.”

“Sorry.” Max rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “So… let’s start over. What did you come here for?”

The Moon Man knelt, reaching under the bed to retrieve his pistol. He put it away carefully, aware that Evelyn was still watching him, her own gun held at the ready. “I can’t afford to waste time worrying about you hunting me down… not when Lycos is out there killing people. I need you to either get out of Great City and leave me be or work together with me to bring in this killer!”

“Do it,” Evelyn urged. “There’s no point in the two of you working at odds with one another when you have so much in common.”

Max nodded, offering a hand to the Moon Man. “I’m game for it. The Peregrine’s at your side, Moon Man.”

The Moon Man hesitated before reaching up to remove his Argus glass helmet. When his handsome and slightly disheveled features came into view, he grinned. “Call me Stephen.”

CHAPTER XI

New Allies

Ned “Angel” Dargan sat in the dingy top room of the tenement flat that the Moon Man used as a base of operations, impatiently wondering where his employer was. He’d received the call less than an hour ago, telling him to meet at their usual location—but there had been sign of the Moon Man in the time since.

Angel looked out the window, noticing the clouds that obscured the lunar surface above. He truly believed in the work that the Moon Man did but he also knew it was only a matter of time before the long arm of the law finally snaked its grip around them both. What would happen to poor Mr. Thatcher? His career would be ruined… it was one thing for a palooka like Angel to go to the Big House, but it’d be a shame to have such a thing happen to the Moon Man.

A tell-tale squeak from below made Angel’s ears perk up. The downtrodden building was perfectly suited for the needs of the Robin Hood of Crime—and several of the floorboards below had carefully arranged to provide ample warning of someone entering the establishment and making for the room upstairs. Angel moved to stand next to the door, his slab-like fists closed. There were multiple footsteps ascending the stairs and Angel knew that only the Moon Man knew of the place’s location.

When the door creaked open, Angel sprang into action. The figure who had emerged first was wearing a long coat and some sort of odd mask that ended in a bird-like point over his nose. “Say yer prayers, pal!” Angel warned, drawing back a balled fist.

The stranger was quick, however, leaning back to use Angel’s bulk against him. The former prizefighter tumbled over, landing hard on his back.

“Hold it!” a familiar voice yelled from the doorway and Angel peered up to see the eerily garbed Moon Man entering. “It’s my fault, Angel! I should have come in first. These folks are on our side!”

Angel accepted the Moon Man’s help back up to his feet, gazing suspiciously at the masked figure and the stunning beauty that had also entered the room. “Who’s the dame?” he asked, finding her somewhat familiar in appearance.