The Nostradamus Scrolls

by Preston William Child

  Julian shot him a cold look and writhed his arm out of Purdue's grip. “Wait? What are we waiting for exactly?”

  Purdue ignored him. Julian could be as impatient as he wanted, but his sadistic blood lust would have to wait.

  “Why did you come after us so hard? Once I took charge of the Order of the Black Sun, you came stampeding out of the shadows, so what the hell did I do to piss you off, aye? It feels personal.”

  “Everything is personal,” the Old Lady said. “When you...if you get to ever see as many years as I have, you will understand that yourself. But it wasn't personal toward you specifically. No. I was tired of seeing the Order of the Black Sun become more and ore of a hollow shell of what it used to be—what it should have been. Once a madman like Julian took charge, that was the first sign. He abused the relics that the Black Sun had just to settle vendettas. He made everything that was wrong with the Order so much worse. Then there was you...the globetrotting billionaire settling scores of his own. You weren't much better. You both were unfit and it was becoming a cycle of incompetence. I figured we could just be rid of the Order of the Black Sun altogether. Make a fresh start. A clean slate...but of course men like you wouldn't let that happen. Your egos wouldn't allow it. Your generation is a stain, and history will continue to be defiled under your watch.”

  “You sound rather...crotchety, don't you?” Julian said confidently. “I think it's more the fact that you have spent your very long life amassing more and more influence and power but now...as you are in your golden years, you have come to realize that all of that is waning. Everything that you've done is coming to an end, and you're not going to leave any lasting impact on the world. To someone like you, that has to be hard. You want to feel important, like you meant something to this world. You are just trying so hard to hold onto it, to hold onto your life. But, here's the hard truth. We all die someday—well, except me. Now I think you should enjoy the short time you have left in this life and it's time that you retired...stepped aside for the new generation. I suppose what I'm saying is..it's time for you to get the hell out of the way you old hag.”

  Julian suddenly revealed a pistol from within his jacket. Before Purdue even had a chance to try to stop him, Julian aimed at the Old Lady and pulled the trigger. The Old Lady fell backward, her eyes rolling up to the hole that had been made above her brow. She fell onto her back, lifeless, as the scrolls written by Nostradamus rolled around the dark room in a mess of parchment.

  INTERLUDE: THE FINAL MOMENTS OF A LONG, LONG LIFE

  Agatha always had a feeling that she wouldn't die from natural causes. Even as she got older and older, she had a feeling that normal complications from old age wouldn't be what did her in, in the end. She lived far too exciting of a life for an end that would be mundane. She never had a family to surround her bedside as she died in her sleep. She never expected there to be a priest saying one final prayer over her dying body. That wasn't her. It didn't matter how old and feeble she was, she wasn't like most old ladies—she was the Old Lady, and she knew her death would be something unusual for a woman her age.

  It was already too late.

  Her final seconds stretched out as a lifetime of thoughts passed through her brain as the bullet started to break through it. She would be dead in moments, but strangely, everything seemed to slow down as she processed what was about to come and looked back on the choices that put her in that position, with a gun aimed right at her head. Part of her wished she had made better choices, especially when it came to this most recent conflict with the Order of the Black Sun. In her younger days, she would have seen to it that David Purdue, Julian Corvus, Nina Gould, and all of their friends would have all met quick, swift ends that would have stopped them from ever being a problem for her again. Maybe she had lost a step or two since then—no, she definitely had.

  There was a time when no one would have dared oppose her, when people were scared of that mysterious spectral old woman that was seemingly pulling so many strings behind the scenes. Even the late elders of the Order of the Black Sun grew to accept that fear, and to live with it. Even Julian Corvus had been afraid of her once, but not anymore. She doubted David Purdue was the type of man to ever fear some scary story about her but she didn't expect him and his friends to come at her with so much tenacity.

  It was strange thinking about your murderer, especially when it wasn't who you hoped or expected it to be. If anyone deserved to be the one to remove her from her mortal coil, she kind of wished that it had been Dr. Nina Gould, killing her in some dramatic way to take her place. That would have been morbid but fitting, and Agatha could have accepted that. She could have accepted one of her associates betraying her even, whether it was the corrupt policeman Donatello Amaro or even those three fools, the Third Triumvirate. Someone with as much power as she had was always at risk of being undermined by her subordinates. She never expected that the person to kill her would be Julian Corvus of all people—and she hated that he was her murderer. She thought more of herself and knew she deserved better than to just be another in a long list of victims that that lunatic had killed. She hated that he had the satisfaction of defeating her when he shouldn't have even been there to begin with.

  It was David Purdue's fault. That man just didn't know how to back off and mind his own business. He didn't understand what it meant to take a vacation or to let someone else have something. Sure, she had tried to have him killed multiple times, but that should have just been more reason to deter him from coming anywhere near her. Instead, that madman threw himself headfirst at her and her associates, without even knowing what exactly he was fighting—and now, he was coming out on top of this whole fight—unless he didn't.

  The one passing thought of satisfaction at her death was that Julian Corvus wasn't exactly a friend of David Purdue's. As much as she hated to be killed by him, she knew enough about Julian to know that he probably wouldn't just stop with putting a bullet in her head. He would probably put one in Purdue's soon enough. Maybe that rich Scotsman would find a resting place for his body right beside her.

  As Agatha's body crumbled to the ground and she could feel all of her functions shutting down throughout her, she thought about how fitting it was to die in a place so full of history and full of thousands of other people that had lived in this world. They all had their own stories once, everyone did, and she was fascinated by all of them. She was happy that her unexpected tomb was an important piece of history. She was fine if she had to join the legions of dead around her.

  The Old Lady wouldn't exist anymore. The Dead Lady. The Corpse Lady. The Skeleton Lady. Those would probably be the monikers she would have to take up now, or perhaps nothing at all. Maybe for the first time in a long time, she could simply be Agatha again—maybe that would be enough for her.

  She had lived a very long life, longer than many others have the chance to live. She had seen countless things in the world and been responsible for so many decisions that she never received credit for. She had done what she could to change the world, but the world had a way of doing things in its own time. It didn't matter how long you lived on it, Earth didn't owe anyone a thing.

  Agatha tried to think about her legacy but realized that it was very minimal. That was part of the problem of keeping so secluded and so well hidden to do her work. Her need for discretion and to be an invisible influence meant keeping most of her work very close to her chest. There were no children to inherit the artifacts she had collected or the money she made. There were probably very few that would even mourn an old decaying woman that most people barely ever saw.

  That was the sad part—but she was okay with it.

  Agatha was just glad that her body would stop getting older. Finally she could be still, and she could rest.

  The final moment ended—and the Old Lady was gone.

  17

  THE BUZZING FLY

  Purdue stood in stunned silence, his mouth hanging open while Julian slowly lowered the weapon to his side. He
stared at the Old Lady with his gray eyes, looking disgusted by the sight of her fresh corpse. Suddenly, that sharp demented smile returned, pushing his visage apart, and he showed how he really felt. Julian slowly tilted his head in Purdue's direction, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Well, at least we are finally done with that old fossil.”

  Julian stepped over to the Old Lady's corpse; one of his steps callously pressed down on her like she wasn't there at all. Julian stepped over to move past her to get to the scrolls sprawled around her body.

  Purdue wanted to say something—to do something—but he wasn't sure how he was supposed to proceed. This was all spiraling out of control so quickly. This wasn't part of the plan at all; even more than that, Julian went out of his way to go against Purdue's attempts to interrogate the Old Lady. They were supposed to be in this together, but this might have been it—the moment that Purdue expected would eventually come. He had known that this was a possibility from the very beginning when they made their deal. This could be the moment when he and his allied enemy would finally stop playing nice. It was almost inevitable. He knew it had to come at some point, but he didn't expect it to be as soon as it was. He never had a chance to ready himself for Julian's betrayal. He couldn't prepare for it. Purdue never went so far as to trust Julian Corvus. He wasn't that stupid, but he expected to have more time before their ceasefire blew up in his face. He should never have stopped thinking about the possibility, but admittedly, he had.

  Julian Corvus was always his enemy but for the briefest of moments, Purdue had mistakenly thought of him as an asset and not as a hindrance.

  Now he was just standing there like a fool, while Julian had all of the power and was about to have their prize for himself.

  Julian scooped up the parchment and looked around for any more of it in the darkness of the room. Purdue took a step toward him, glancing at the Old Lady's body in front of him.

  “What do you think you're doing?” Purdue asked. “The scrolls are going to the Order of the Black Sun. You better just be offering to carry them back to the compound.”

  “Of course I'm not going back there,” Julian said casually.

  Purdue felt his blood boiling.

  This was it—the inevitable moment of a broken truce.

  “The hell you going on about?”

  “My future is going to be somewhat longer than yours, Mr. Purdue. It only makes sense that I hold onto these. They will do me quite a bit more help than they could for you. It's only fair. Either way, the Old Lady doesn't get them, and that's what matters in the end, right? She loses, we win. Our alliance has been a brilliant success, I must say.”

  “Aye,” Purdue said flippantly. “We all just live happily ever after. I'm probably even more uncomfortable with you getting it than I was the Old Lady getting it. She's bad, aye, real bad, but you were the one who burned my home to the ground.”

  “Are you still help up on that?” Julian said with a click of his tongue. “After all we've been through together since then? I admit I might have been a bit excessive in my treatment of you, but don't pretend that your hands are clean. You destroyed everything I built, took what was mine, took my purpose and my Order, and then didn't even strip me of my immortality when you had the chance to. I would have thought keeping me in a glass box as your trophy would have been enough to make us even.”

  “No,” Purdue glowered. “We are not even close to even.”

  “I'm disappointed, Mr. Purdue. I thought that we were starting to make real progress. I told you when we first met back on Rhodes...you and I could accomplish so much if we just put aside all of this feuding and worked together.”

  “I've accomplished plenty without a bastard like you.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Purdue glanced at the scrolls in Julian's grasp. “So this was the angle you were working the whole time? You were planning on taking the scrolls of Nostradamus for yourself once we got the Old Lady out of the way.”

  Julian shrugged. “Everyone needs agendas of their own. Freedom from the glass case you stuck me in was nice and all, very appreciated, but a brief vacation is not quite enough to get me motivated. Taking down the Old Lady was also a nice thought but again, not quite enough on its own to get my passions flowing. I'm like you. I need to have a goal, something to pursue, to attain. It's why I have always been so good at finding things like this. We both have a knack for that. I was rusty from my time in that cage but these scrolls were enough to get me moving again...to make me feel alive. Who doesn't want to know what's coming in the future? It was so exciting. Too exciting to pass up, that is for certain.”

  “Well, I hope you enjoyed it because this passion-filled joyride of yours is over. You are going to give me the scrolls. And then you are going right back into your box. And this time you are going to stay there for good.”

  “No,” Julian said venomously. “No, I don't think that I'm going to do either of those things. Why don't we check to see what I'm actually going to do.” Julian cackled and glanced down at the scrolls, ready to read an excerpt of the future.

  “Don't.”

  Julian smiled at Purdue's attempt to stop him. His wicked smile flickered on his face, and he suddenly tossed the pistol through the air until it landed in Purdue's hands.

  “You want to stop me so badly, Mr. Purdue. Stop me then. Do it.”

  Julian went back to looking at the scroll. Purdue instinctively fired the weapon and the bullets struck Julian. They just made him flinch before falling out of him seconds later. His self-healing body pushed them out during its repair. Julian smiled but still had his attention on the scrolls.

  “This is quite the joke,” Julian said. “It is quite an amusing one. We've been over this before, Mr. Purdue. Come on. I know you're a smart enough man to realize what I am. That gun is useless. Do you think I would hand it to you if it wasn't? It might as well be empty.”

  Julian took a step closer.

  “Go on, let it out if you have to. Venting is a necessary emotional tool sometimes...and this seems like one of those times, doesn't it?”

  Purdue knew it was pointless, but his frustration took control of his trigger finger. He emptied the remainder of the clip into Julian's face, but it was just a minor setback for an immortal like him.

  Julian stepped right up to him, holding the scrolls.

  “See?” Julian said. “There's no point, Mr. Purdue. You brought me down. I can admit that. You had your victory. Well...now it's my turn. Our cycle of wounding one another is going to end right now.”

  Purdue knew it was hopeless to kill Julian. It was physically impossible at the moment, but he could at least still stop him from getting the Nostradamus scrolls. That in itself would be a win if he could pull it off, even if he died in the attempt. There was only one way he could think of that that was going to happen.

  Purdue took Julian by surprise as he suddenly hit him in the face with the empty pistol. Julian staggered back, laughing at just how desperate Purdue seemed, but Purdue took the seconds of delay to pounce on Julian, tackling him to the floor. The scrolls that Julian was holding flew out of his hands and landed on the floor. The two men grappled one another but Purdue managed to hit Julian a few more times with the butt of the handgun until Julian slapped it out of his hands. Their struggle continued and the hits that Purdue landed on Julian's face were already healing thanks to his immortality. The fight was turning back in his favor.

  He couldn't let Julian win, that's what he had to keep telling himself. He needed to stop him from reading those scrolls. Purdue focused his attention on grabbing at the scrolls on the floor. Julian smacked his hand away before he could grab them and then elbowed him. The two continued to spar on the floor, keeping each other way from the scrolls until Purdue slammed his forehead into Julian's. His headbutt almost knocked him out but he managed to stay conscious while Julian was dazed enough for Purdue to roll away. As he rolled over the parchments, he snatched them up off the cave floor and held them
in his hand, rising to his feet.

  Julian stood up, laughing with his usual crazed cackles and held out his hand. “You really do surprise me, Mr. Purdue. Even when you are backed into a corner with nowhere to go, you will fight until the very end, won't you? I'm always so impressed by your tenacity. But you've had your fun, haven't you? Hand over the scrolls. Give them to me.”

  “That's not going to happen,” Purdue said.

  “No?” Julian shook his head. “Well then, I'll just have to take them from you by force, and believe me, I will. I am very done with this game we've been playing. You are going to give them to me, or I will pull them off your corpse.”

  “No you won't,” Purdue said confidently.

  Julian looked utterly perplexed. “Did that head slamming stunt you pulled hurt you more than me? Did that damage your fragile little brain, Mr. Purdue? Are you not listening to what I'm saying?”

  “I am,” Purdue said. “I can hear you loud and clear, Julian. But here's the problem, you won't be able to take the scrolls because you physically won't be able to. It won't be possible.”

  There was an annoyed vain protruding through Julian's forehead. His face was growing red with annoyance, and probably even from some embarrassment having been so close to ending this entire discussion when he had the scrolls. Now he had lost them—at least for the moment, but Purdue knew it would be for quite a bit longer than that.

  “Fine,” Julian said. “I'll bite. What the hell are you going on about?”

  Purdue smiled. “This.”

  With his free hand, he reached into his jacket and pulled out his zippo lighter. He snapped the case open with the flick of his wrist and then switched it on. He conjured a small, purposeful flame and held it beneath the old paperwork, ready to set the lost work of Nostradamus ablaze.

  Julian's eyes widened and his already manic expression grew wild and wrathful. He looked like a beast ready to lunge on its prey and tear them apart, like he had been threatened and backed into a corner. He took a breath and reined that inner beast in just enough to continue the conversation, but he looked ready to snap at any moment.