The Peregrine Omnibus, Volume Two (17 page)

The white girl, Grace, grinned. “I want to do it. I want to kill him.”

The Spook nodded. “Enjoy yourself, my pet. I—”

The sound of breaking glass made everyone in the room jump. The Spook whirled about in time to see a masked figure crouching on the floor, a long black cape lying about his shoulders.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” the stranger deadpanned, “but a friend of mine from Atlanta asked me to stop by and keep things in order until he could get here himself.”

The Spook straightened, regarding the newcomer with skepticism. “And you are?”

The masked man jumped towards the Spook, looking graceful and dangerous all at the same time. “Men call me the Black Bat!”

CHAPTER IV

In Battle Joined!

The man in the dark mask and costume was known to law enforcement and to the underworld as the Black Bat, but his true identity was that of attorney Anthony “Tony” Quinn. The attorney’s face had been badly scarred by a criminal, leaving him with horrific scratches across both eyes, as if a large jungle cat had taken a swipe to him. In the aftermath of this, the suddenly-blind Quinn thought his pursuit of justice would come to an end… until a secret operation changed everything. Receiving a double eye transplant from a murdered police officer, Quinn found that not only had his normal vision been restored, but he now possessed perfect night vision. His other senses had been enhanced as well, giving him uncanny hearing, pinpoint accurate smell, and acute touch.

With those talents added to his brilliant mind, Tony Quinn adopted a double life. During the day, he pretended to be blind, operating as best he could within the legal system. But at night, he donned a black bodysuit equipped with crepe-sole shoes and thin nylon gloves with rubber tips for better gripping ability. Strapped in holsters under his armpits were two large .45 automatics, and around his waist was a utility belt containing a wide variety of tools and gasses. A black hood hid his identity, though his strangely penetrating eyes remained visible.

The Black Bat had become a scourge to criminals throughout the city, though his often lethal methods had left him wanted by law enforcement. Approximately two years ago, the Black Bat had found himself in an alliance with the mystic detective Ascott Keane and the Peregrine, a partnership which had led to a harrowing victory over Doctor Satan and the Bleeding Hells. Since then, the three men—along with other vigilantes like Leonid Kaslov and the Domino Lady—had called upon each other as needed.

The Black Bat’s flight towards the Spook was interrupted by the quick action of the woman called Grace. She threw herself in front of her master and absorbed the impact, allowing her body to roll to the ground. She shifted her weight immediately, moving about until she was on top of the Bat. To Quinn’s astonishment, she was able to evade his attempted blows with ease, answering with a hard chop to the side of his head that left his ears ringing.

Mercy, took advantage of the Black Bat’s situation, grabbing hold of one of his wrists and bending it back until it threatened to snap. Quinn howled in pain but refused to back down.

The Bat twisted his hips, successfully dislodging Grace from atop him. As she tried to catch herself, the Black Bat shoved his twisted wrist towards Mercy, driving her chin up and back. He then yanked his arm free and drove his fist into Grace’s nose, shattering it. Blood spurted from the pale woman’s face and she growled in anger.

The Black Bat barely dodged a kick from Mercy, which would have caught him in his mouth. He threw himself back to his feet, wincing as the pain from his injured wrist threatened to overwhelm him.

Quinn drew his pistols, evading another blow from Mercy. He directed the barrel of his gun towards her and fired, the bullets tearing through her upper chest and through her neck. The woman staggered back and fell to the ground.

The Black Bat sighed, regretting having to kill her—he didn’t enjoy murder, whether it was of a man or a woman, but somehow the loss of life seemed worse when it was a female.

Grace hissed like a she-cat as she came in for another go at the masked vigilante, and Quinn could only assume that seeing her friend gunned down had pushed her over the edge. With blood streaming down her chin, Grace jumped into the air, spinning around in an attempt to deliver a powerful roundhouse kick to the Black Bat’s head. Quinn threw an arm up to knock her askew and he successfully drove her past his head and into the wall. She screamed as her leg broke upon impact and she landed hard, writhing on the floor.

“Such a beast you are,” the Spook said, mockery lacing his words. “Striking ladies like that. And all to save the life of a man who’s already dead.”

The Black Bat’s eyes drifted over to the prone form of Mr. Allen, who lay with an obviously broken neck. Quinn’s heart fell at the sight—while he’d been sparring with the girls, the villain had completed his work.

“You bastard,” Quinn hissed, pointing his pistol at the Spook’s chest. “Raise your hands. Now.”

“You don’t seem to understand the true situation,” the Spook said, his head tilting to the side. “I am not like the petty criminals you normally face. And neither are my girls.”

A strange sound made the Black Bat glance down to see that Mercy was twitching, her body impossibly starting to rise. The wounds on her neck and chest were closing up with wet sounds, the bullets being squeezed out. They appeared like silver embryos ready to be birthed, dropping to the ground with a clink.

“What the hell are you people?” the Black Bat asked, wondering just what the Peregrine had gotten him into.

The Spook seemed to cross the distance between them in a heartbeat, his cloak billowing out behind him as a cloud of smoke enveloped his lower legs. “I am the Spook!” he bellowed, before laughing maniacally. The sound echoed in the bedroom and out into the streets below.

CHAPTER V

Allies, Reunited

Tony Quinn opened his eyes, surprised to find himself still amongst the living. The last thing he remembered was seeing the Spook looming over him, his black cloak seeming to grow so large that it seemed like the nighttime sky.

The first thing Tony saw was the face of his friend, Max Davies. Max was sitting on the edge of Quinn’s own bed, dressed in the regalia of the Peregrine.

“Max…? How did I end up back at home?”

“After I made it to the city, I went to check on how you were doing. I found the mess at Allen’s apartment and you inside. I thought you were dead, at first.”

The Black Bat reached up and pulled off his mask, revealing the odd scars that marred his handsome face. “I don’t get it. They could have killed me easily. Why didn’t they? It’s not like they’re soft when it comes to murder—not after the way treated poor old Mr. Allen.”

The Peregrine pursed his lips thoughtfully before speaking. “I don’t really know. When they fought Kirsten in Atlanta, they had the same opportunity but didn’t take it. They left her alive, even though she was able to give me information about them.”

The Black Bat got up off the bed, swaying slightly from the pounding in his head. He led the Peregrine into his study, where he poured himself a stiff drink. After Max declined one of his own, Quinn downed his alcohol and shook his head. “You didn’t tell me they weren’t going to be human.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I shot one of those girls point-blank, opened up enough holes in her that she looked like a sieve. But then she got right back up, healing on the spot. And the Spook…! There’s something really odd about him.”

“I should say so,” another familiar voice stated.

Quinn looked around to see that Ascott Keane was standing in the doorway. He looked dapper as usual, his right hand resting atop a walking stick. The thin psychic detective had made his fame by engaging in a series of cat-and-mouse battles with the vile Doctor Satan, but he had been instrumental in a wide variety of other conflicts, as well.

“Ascott,” Quinn said with a smile. “Max didn’t tell me you were here.”

“I just arrived.” Keane entered the room and tossed his walking stick onto a nearby chair. He loosened his tie and let out a weary sigh. “I’ve spent the past seventy-two hours traversing the outer planes of hell, searching for a kidnapped little girl.”

“Did you find her?” Max wanted to know.

“Yes,” Keane said, looking distracted. “Unfortunately, she wasn’t completely intact.” The detective shook himself, visibly trying to move past such dark thoughts. “Max told me that the two of you have come across a man known as the Spook. Certain things that he has seen in his visions have led him to believe that perhaps this Spook isn’t a normal man, at all. Hence, I have come to consult.”

The Black Bat turned towards Max. “You’re having visions again?”

“No. Not like before.” Max filled them both in on the full details of his father’s visitation, though he didn’t mention the emotional turmoil his father’s appearance had caused for him. “The Spook attacked Kirsten McKenzie in Atlanta, getting the address for Mr. Allen from her, and now they’ve gotten whatever information they needed from him. I’ve got to stop playing catch-up before I fall too far behind to stop them.”

“So you’ll be heading straight to Kuelap?” Quinn asked, knowing that he’d be doing the same thing as Max. In fact, he was considering offering to go with him—getting his head handed to him by the Spook had left him angry and spoiling for a rematch.

Keane held up a hand, stopping the Peregrine from answering. “If I may… I have information that may prove useful to you in determining your next course of action.”

The three men sat in the study, Max barely able to contain his nervous energy. Whatever weapon lay in Peru, it was obvious that a man like the Spook couldn’t be allowed to possess it.

“I know who the Spook truly is,” Keane began, adopting the professorial tone that both Quinn and Max had come to know very well. “His real name is Derek Taylor, and he is the son of actor Brock Taylor.”

Max felt a surge of recognition pass through him. He’d met Brock at one of Evelyn’s parties. They’d been costars in a few films before Max and she had become an item. He’d seemed handsome and funny, but his son—who had accompanied him to the party—had been sickly, with a dour air about him.

“The younger Taylor had suffered from many minor maladies since his childhood and this had led him to seek out alternative methods for improving his well-being.” Keane crossed his legs, visibly warming to the subject. Max couldn’t help but think that Ascott liked the sound of his own voice just a tad too much, but he couldn’t deny that the mystic detective was always a needed source of information. “Derek flitted through a variety of drug addictions before stumbling quite innocently into the world of occultism. He became a protégé of a man who hungered for Taylor’s wealth just as much as the young man hungered for magical cleansing. The man who became his tutor was Doctor Satan.”

Max let out a small curse and shook his head. Satan’s true identity was unknown, but he’d been a thorn in the heroes’ collective sides for far too long. His list of crimes was so lengthy that no one would ever fully know the horrors he had perpetrated. Not long ago Max had managed to defeat Satan, stopping the villain from gaining access to a Mayan artifact that foretold the end of the world. The criminal now lay in a jail cell, awaiting trial.

“As with all things where Satan is involved,” Keane continued, “there was quite a bit of deception. After taking Taylor for every cent he could, Doctor Satan offered the young man up as a sacrifice to a demon. The creature crawled up from the abyss and dragged Derek Taylor down into hell. That was sixteen months ago. Approximately two months ago, the Spook appeared for the first time. He slew several people who were former associates of his in his former life. He was accompanied by the two women you described earlier. I believe that Taylor escaped from hell, empowered by eldritch energies, and brought Mercy and Grace with him. What sins led to their imprisonment in the abyss I can’t fathom, nor do I want to. But the three of them are no longer human, as you’ve both attested to.”

The Peregrine digested this and then asked the question that had gnawed at him all along. “Do you know what the weapon in the Mummies’ Lagoon is? Kirsten had no idea, but supposedly it was so awful that Allen didn’t believe anyone should have it.”

Keane hesitated before answering. “I’m not certain. I do agree with Allen that the few clues I have found, both in his own writing and elsewhere, suggest that no good will come from that weapon being used. The best guess I can find is that it’s some sort of microwave weapon.”

The Black Bat leaned forward. “Microwave?”

Max answered the question, having become familiar with the ideas through his own research over the years. “Microwaves are electromagnetic waves with wavelength frequencies between 0.3 GHz and 300 GHz. They were first proposed by James Clerk Maxwell in 1864, but it was a few years later—1888—that someone successfully demonstrated their existence. Heinrich Hertz was the man responsible for that. The possibilities for weaponry are frightening—I’ve heard that a short burst of microwaves against a person could quickly cook someone from the inside out.” Max glanced back at Keane, his face drawn tight with worry. “I’m not sure I understand where this weapon could have come from, though: If Kuelap was abandoned sometime in the 1500s, who in world could have devised this kind of weapon?”

“I believe it might be extraterrestrial in nature,” Keane answered, drawing shocked states from both the Peregrine and the Black Bat. “We know that some of the elder gods who have tried to destroy our world have come from the stars… and I think this weapon did, as well.”

The Peregrine stood. “Then I need to warm up my private plane. I thought about just going straight there after what happened with Kirsten, but I still thought I might be able to stop them before they left the country.”

“I’d like to come along, if you don’t mind,” Quinn said. He rose but swayed unsteadily on his feet.

“Thanks for the offer,” Max replied. “But you need to rest.”

“And I, unfortunately, have other matters to attend to.” Keane plucked up his walking stick and joined his colleagues in standing. “Doctor Satan is scheduled for a hearing in a few days, and my testimony will be crucial if we hope to gain a conviction.”