The Peregrine Omnibus Volume One (31 page)

Max closed the small book and set it aside, his mind whirring. He wondered if Leopold knew about the connection between the Abomination and his father Eobard… but he quickly surmised that his friend was probably all too aware, given that Felix Cole had married into the family as well.
Such a small world we live in
, he mused.

“Mr. Davies,” Nettie said, making Max jump in surprise. The maid was so thin that her brown skin seemed to barely stretch across her bones but she was an amazingly strong-willed individual. “Sorry to bother you so, but there’s a man here and he… well, he seems to be quite an odd sort of fella.”

Max stood up immediately. Nettie had seen quite a bit since becoming part of his household and anything that she dubbed ‘odd’ was worrisome. “I’ll get dressed and be right out. Is he in the parlor?”

“I don’t think you should bother with the dressin’ part,” she said, rubbing her hands together. “He ain’t in the mood for waitin’.”

“Very well,” Max said, though he wondered at what could have moved her to say such a thing. Nettie was never one to have the Master or Mistress of the house appear less than perfect. She usually took it as a personal slight.

Max allowed the old woman to lead him out of the kitchen and down the hall to the parlor. When he stepped inside, after smoothing down the front of his pajamas as best he could, he stopped in place immediately. The man who stood with his back to the fireplace was a vision from Max’s past… from a time when Max had traveled the globe in the hopes of finding a way to avenge his dead father. The Peregrine had not yet been born—not truly—but the painful visions had already begun. The Asian man before him was tall and lean, like a powerful cat waiting to spring into motion. He wore a robe of green and yellow, his somewhat sallow skin set off by the darkness of his hair and moustache.

“Sensei?” Max asked aloud, gesturing for Nettie to leave the room. She did so, though her hesitation was palpable. “How did you find me? What are you doing here?”

“So many questions,” the Warlike Manchu replied with a smile. “Your inquisitive nature has always impressed me. A man should never be ashamed to admit that he is curious for that is how he may gain knowledge of the world around him.”

Max hesitated for only a moment, stunned by the sudden arrival of a man he had thought gone forever. The painful summer he had spent under the Sensei’s tutelage had been amongst the hardest days of his life. He had suffered physical and mental torment that seemed close to breaking him. But in the end he had mastered the arts he had sought to learn and left a more whole and wiser man. “You’re him, aren’t you? The one that Benson warned me about. That’s the only possible explanation for you being here right now.”

“Again, you reveal yourself to be a most challenging opponent,” the Warlike Manchu said with the briefest nod of his head. “I wish to give you one last sign of respect. You were the only Westerner to ever survive my tutelage.”

“What are you planning to do with the Abomination?” Max asked, moving closer to the man whom he now recognized as the foe he was.

“Merely fulfill my destiny. I will use him to conquer the world.”

“I’ll stop you.”

“No,” the Warlike Manchu said, “You will not. But I will give you this gift: the final component of the Abomination left for us to gain will be arriving in Atlanta this evening. It will come by train from Tennessee. Onboard will be a man named Kenneth Harvick. He believes he is going to sell the brain to us… but we have no intention of paying for it. The train will be boarded before it reaches Atlanta and Harvick will be killed, allowing us to steal the brain.”

Max blinked in surprise. “Why are you telling me this? You have to realize you’ve given me plenty of time to stop you. The Nashville train won’t even reach Atlanta until nearly ten o’clock.”

“I tell you this because I want to give you one opportunity to succeed. If you accomplish your task, I will be most saddened… but respectful… when I kill you later. If you fail, then you have lost all honor and I will kill you with glee.”

“You’re insane.”

“I am practical.”

Max started to lunge for the Warlike Manchu but a wave of nausea hit him and he staggered, his back coming to rest against the wall.

The Warlike Manchu remained where he was, watching as the Peregrine slowly slid to the floor. “I released an airborne toxin upon entering your home. I am, of course, quite immune to it. You will awaken with little time to spare this evening. Look for the place where we will most likely board the train and attempt to perform your usual heroics. This should prove most amusing, I would think.”

Max coughed, rolling over onto his stomach so that he could crawl towards the hall. He reached it with great effort, seeing that Nettie was lying face down halfway towards the kitchen. “I’ll stop you,” he whispered, as the Warlike Manchu stepped over him and exited the house.

CHAPTER VII

Terror Train!

Ben Gallagher had worked on the railroad for over twenty years and he loved his job. A slightly pot-bellied, genial fellow, Ben strolled from one end of the passenger car to the other, taking tickets and ensuring that everyone had a pleasant stay while on board. He liked to think he was good at the job but tonight he’d met his match when it came to dealing with surly passengers.

Kenneth Harvick was the source of Ben Gallagher’s confusion. The thin-faced little man had demanded to have a car all to himself, despite the fact that his ticket allowed for other passengers to ride with him. Ben had done his best to placate the man but to no avail. In the end, Harvick had returned to his cabin, clutching a small bag to his chest. Ben had offered to help put the bag into the overhead compartment but Harvick’s snarling refusal had left him flabbergasted.

It takes all kinds
, Ben mused.
And given the European accent that Mr. Harvick has, I can’t blame him for being a little tense. Things are going so rough in that part of the world… those damned Nazis are going to—

An unusual feeling crept over Ben’s spine and he stopped in place as he made his rounds. The dining car was usually empty at this time of night but there was a group of four men standing together at the rear of the hall, near the door that connected to the adjacent car. Ben usually had a good memory for things like faces and clothing, but he couldn’t recall anyone onboard dressed like these fellows. Each of them wore hooded robes that were a dark gray in color, with gauzed-covered hands protruding from under the sleeves.

“Excuse me, fellows,” Ben said, moving forward. This trip had already been an odd one and he had the feeling it was only going to become more so. “But I’m going to have to ask to see your tickets.”

The nearest of the men turned with a hiss that sounded like a cornered cat. His face was heavily lined and sunken-featured, as if all the water had been drained from it. Up close, Ben could smell the stench of the grave from him. “Prepare to meet your gods,” the man whispered, reaching out a hand to clutch at Ben’s neck.

* * *

The Peregrine piloted his helicopter low over the moving train, unstrapping himself so that he could move towards the open door. A small mechanized device would serve as the autopilot in his absence, with orders to keep pace with the train. Anything more sophisticated—such as evading an enemy—would be beyond the device’s capabilities, but the Peregrine hoped that it wouldn’t be necessary.

Max seethed inwardly, still furious that he had been bested so easily by his old teacher. Both he and Nettie had been found by Josh within a few moments of falling unconscious but nothing could rouse them from their drug-induced slumber until nature took its course. By then, Evelyn was beside herself with worry and the Warlike Manchu had worked for hours on his nocturnal plans.

The Peregrine pulled his cloak tight against his body as he leaned out of the moving helicopter. He was flying as low as he dared but it would still be a risky move… girding his loins, he threw himself from the helicopter, coiling himself into a tight ball for acceleration before throwing his arms and legs open wide for impact. He landed in a roll, coming to a stop perilously close to the edge of the car’s top. He held on for dear life and finally released his grip when he felt comfortable enough to attempt movement. He slid across the surface of the train until he came to a spot where he could swing down and land on the narrow walkway between cars.

The Peregrine slowly opened the door, peering inside. He was in one of the passenger cars but saw no one in the hall. All the doors leading to the passengers’ rooms were closed, and the porters were obviously off taking care of other business, so the Peregrine slipped inside and moved stealthily down the passage, checking door numbers as he went. A careful examination of train records—courtesy of a bedridden McKenzie—had allowed Max to figure out that the man he sought was staying in berth 17-B. Max silently thanked the gods that he’d ended up on the right car by chance. Given how long he’d been delayed in taking action, he was fearful that the Warlike Manchu had sped up his own timetable and already made off with the Abomination’s brain.

When he came to the right room, Max was disturbed to see that the door gave indications of having experienced a forced entry. The area around the handle was cracked, despite being built of steel. The Peregrine drew one of his specially modified pistols and pushed the door open gently. He felt secure going into any kind of battle with the gun in his hand, for it could reel off several dozen shots without need for reloading, and each of the bullets was encased in pure silver.

Inside the car, Max came face-to-face with four creatures from out of a nightmare: shriveled husks of men cloaked in gray garments that left them looking like Egyptian mummies with exposed faces. They stood over the crumpled form of Kenneth Harvick, one of them pawing a small box that the Peregrine knew contained the final component of the Warlike Manchu’s awful plan.

To Max’s surprise, the one holding the box was capable of speech. The few animated undead that the Peregrine had encountered during his career had been able only to grunt or moan unintelligibly. “So, Atlanta’s resident mystery man has shown his masked face,” the zombie whispered harshly. The thing gestured to the other three. “Kill him.”

The Peregrine didn’t wait for them to respond. He discharged his pistol, death shooting from the barrel of the gun like lightning. The bullet struck home, embedding itself deep between the eyes of the zombie. A small gush of a blackish-red fluid jetted from the wound and then the creature went down to the floor, flopping like a fish on dry land.

One of the others struck during this time, flailing out his stiff limbs until one of them slammed into the side of Max’s head. The vigilante saw stars for a moment but regained his footing enough to dodge a second blow. He fired again, point-blank, into the monster’s midsection and a chunk of flesh and gore rocketed outwards as the bullet passed through the body. Max drew his golden dagger and stabbed it into the thing’s neck. As the third reanimated creature shambled forward, the Peregrine jumped into the air, nimbly vaulting over his attacker. He landed just behind the creature and stabbed back with his blade. The knife, potent against all things magical, cut right through the flesh and bone.

The Peregrine then turned to the last of his foes, the obvious leader of the group. The creature was backed up against the far wall, the box containing the brain clutched tightly in its grip. “Give it up,” Max warned, sheathing his knife and pointing the gun at his foe. “If there’s any way to help you in your current condition, I’ll try to do it.”

Outside in the hallway, a commotion had sprung up as men and women responded to the sounds of gunfire. Several of the braver men peered inside and then backed away quickly as they saw the multiple bodies on the floor.

“There’s no need to ‘help’ me, Peregrine,” the monster replied. “I am more than fine. In fact, my armies of servants are going to help me finally gain the power I deserve! This shell you observe now is but the merest expression of my abilities!”

Max blinked at the thing’s words for they implied that this creature was being spoken through, that he was being used as a mouthpiece for some more malevolent force. Keeping in mind what Benson had told him, he jumped to the logical conclusion and voiced his thoughts. “You’re Ibis, aren’t you? The one who works for the Warlike Manchu?”

“I don’t work for that buffoon! I am my own master!”

“Odd. That’s not the way he described it.”

The animated monster snarled, tossing aside the box so that it bounced off the seating unit. He lunged for the Peregrine and the two men went to the ground, landing atop one of the sprawled corpses. The Peregrine was surprised by the thing’s strength but he managed to get the barrel of his gun under the creature’s chin. He fired the weapon, causing the back of the thing’s head to explode outwards.

Max moved slightly so that his glowing signet ring could press against what remained of the monster’s skull. He hissed out the words that had become his recent mantra: “When the good is swallowed by the dark, there the Peregrine shall plant his Mark!”

After the deed was done and the Peregrine began pushing the body off of himself, he heard a harsh voice from the doorway. “Drop your weapon and put your hands in the air!” someone commanded.

Max saw one of the porters was brandishing a small pistol, holding it in a shaking hand. The Peregrine stood slowly, snatching up the box in a fluid movement. He rushed the door, sending the porter scrambling back in surprise and fright. “Sorry, friend—but I have someplace I have to be!” he yelled after himself. He ran down the hall, not fearful of being shot as he fled—the porter would never dare discharge the weapon with so many passengers on the scene. One or two of the men looked like they were ready to slow the Peregrine’s progress, but a steely-eyed gaze from the vigilante caused all to reconsider that course of action.

The Peregrine made it back outside, crawling to the roof of the train car. Once there, he pulled out a small radio transmitter that ordered the helicopter to land nearby. He would have to jump from the train and make his way to it but there was no other way to return to his escape vehicle.