The Adventures of Lazarus Gray

by Barry Reese

  Sazar laughed throatily. "You amuse me, Malcolm. For that reason – and because I’ve fed recently – I won’t kill you. But don’t think that you’re my master any longer. I can come and go as I please."

  Goodwill cleared his throat and moved around her. "Let’s get going, shall we?"

  ***

  Lazarus Gray and his people were the first to arrive. He had chosen this site for several reasons: first and foremost, it had been abandoned for years, meaning it was unlikely that any innocents would be hurt. Second, Gray owned it, meaning any collateral damage that occurred would only cost him and not anyone else. Finally, he had set up the old factory as an emergency base for Assistance Unlimited, meaning that it had a stash of weapons and equipment hidden around the property.

  Gray had Samantha stand with him in the large parking area, which had a gravel surface. It was here that he planned to make the proposed exchange. Morgan was perched on the second floor of the nearby factory building, where he was waiting with a high-powered rifle. Eun was hiding behind some old mining equipment, ready to explode onto the scene if required.

  Five minutes before the agreed-upon meeting time, the Black Heart ninjas arrived. Eun spotted them first, watching with amusement as nearly a dozen of the men spread out, hiding behind any cover they could find. They must have parked their vehicles a mile or so away and come the rest of the distance on foot. He did nothing, though, remembering the plan. When one of the ninja tried to take his spot for his own, however, he quietly took the man by surprise, snapping his neck with a move so exquisite that few on the planet could have matched it. Of course, one of those men was his employer.

  The next to arrive was Goodwill, who drove himself in a small roadster. He parked thirty feet away from Gray, who stood with the papers clasped in his hands. Goodwill emerged from the vehicle and looked around in dramatic fashion. He smiled at Lazarus and took several steps toward him. "I confess, I’m surprised to see you here. I’d thought you were leading me into a trap."

  "And yet you still came," Samantha said.

  "Yes," Goodwill responded, frowning. He obviously didn’t appreciate having one of Gray’s underlings answering him. "So, Lazarus. I’ve brought you enough money to cover the transfer." Goodwill reached into the pocket of his slacks and Morgan tensed above. When Goodwill’s hand emerged holding a wad of bills taped together, Morgan’s finger relaxed on the trigger but he still remained ready to fire if need be.

  Gray caught the money when Goodwill tossed it to him. Without even bothering to count it, he handed the bills to Samantha. "I must warn you, Mr. Goodwill, you’re dealing with things best left alone." He held up the pages and his already grim face turned even darker. "You risk not only your life but your immortal soul."

  "I appreciate the concern," Goodwill answered, still using his faux British accent. "Now may I have my papers back?"

  "Why did you kill the young woman we found in Nance’s apartment?"

  "Because she knew too much." Goodwill extended his left hand. "The papers, Lazarus. Now."

  "Of course." Lazarus took several steps forward and pushed them into Goodwill’s hand. Before the transfer was fully complete, he stared into Goodwill’s eyes and said a series of words that sounded like gibberish, unless you knew that they were the ancient tongue of the demon world.

  Goodwill’s eyes opened wide, for he did recognize them. They were the words he’d not been able to remember, the words that bound the demon to whomever spoke them.

  Sazar suddenly became visible, standing just to the left of Goodwill. She stared at Gray with mounting interest, wondering what he would order her to do. Now that the spell had been spoken, she was his to command.

  "Blood demon," Gray said loudly, "capture him – but do not kill him!"

  Goodwill snarled, spinning away from Sazar. He held the papers in his hand – if he could just have the time to read the words on them, he could try to wrest control of her from Gray. Or banish her, if need be. But before he got more than three steps away, Sazar was on, throwing him to the ground and crouching over his chest. Her mouth was open near his neck, close enough that he could feel the heat of her breath and feel the spittle that dripped from her tongue. "No! Please!" he whispered.

  At that moment, the Black Heart ninja sprang into action. They had held off, waiting for a signal from Goodwill, but now it appeared that he was in no position to summon them. They rushed forward, leaping and spinning impressively. Their swords flashed in the murky Sovereign sunlight. Eun moved into view, clashing with several, but it was Morgan who did the most damage. From his vantage point, he was able to pick them off at will, pausing only long enough to reload his rifle. During the bloodshed, Gray remained exactly where he’d started out, though he now had Samantha clinging to him. The girl buried her face in his shoulder, averting her eyes from the mayhem. The Black Heart assassins died in droves, bullets riddling their bodies, save for the few that Eun killed by hand.

  When the sounds of gunfire had faded, Gray ordered Sazar to step away. She did so but was obviously hungering for a taste of Goodwill’s blood. Now that all remnants of his hold over her had faded, she saw Goodwill as nothing more than food.

  Goodwill rose to his knees, looking up at Gray in astonishment. "You’re not human, are you? You’re just as much of a demon as she is. Nobody human could stand there and be so calm."

  "I’m as human as you," Gray responded. "But I’ve chosen to live my life with meaning. For those who traffic in death, there is only more death. But those who live for others will find a richer meaning."

  "How trite," Goodwill said with a laugh. "You don’t really believe that, do you?"

  "I do. It’s a lesson that Harry Nance learned at the end. That’s why he risked his life to make sure that someone learned what you were up to."

  Goodwill glanced over at Sazar. "Kill me if you want but don’t let her do it. Please."

  "I don’t plan to kill you at all. I’m going to turn you over to the authorities. But before I do, I want answers. What do you know about Walther Lunt?"

  "Not much. He wanted to buy these papers. That’s it."

  Gray looked disappointed and Samantha knew that he was more troubled by Lunt’s resurrection than he’d let on. She could sympathize – here was an actual piece of his past and he couldn’t make sense of it.

  At that moment a crack rang out and Goodwill’s body lurched to the side. Blood sprayed from his head and Samantha instinctively looked up at Morgan, thinking he had fired the deadly shot. Gray, however, knew that someone else had been behind the blast. He pushed Samantha behind him and drew his own handgun, looking in the direction of the shot.

  There he saw him, standing beside a black sedan. The German held a Mauser in one hand and his walking stick in the other. It was Walther Lunt, who gave a mocking salute before sitting back behind the wheel.

  Eun sprinted up beside his employer. "Should I?" he began but Lazarus shook his head.

  "You’d never make it in time," Gray muttered as Lunt spun his vehicle away from them, kicking up gravel as he did so. "All you’d do is get yourself shot."

  "Why did he kill him?" Samantha wondered. "Goodwill didn’t know anything about him."

  "Maybe he was angry over not getting the papers," Eun suggested.

  Gray said nothing, not even when Sazar lunged on Goodwill’s bleeding corpse, lapping it lustily. He knew the real reason why Lunt had done it: because there was something dark and cold inside Lunt’s soul and he wanted Gray to know that he could have done that very same thing to Samantha or Eun or Morgan. It was a taunt, the proverbial ‘you can’t stop me.’

  "Chief? You gonna get rid of her?"

  Gray glanced at Morgan and then at Sazar. "Yes. You’re right." He walked forward and repeated the rest of the spell, this time banishing her from this plane. Unlike Goodwill, his sharp mind allowed him to remember such details. The blood demon howled in disappointment but she vanished in a puff of dark-tinged smoke, leaving the odor of brimstone in her wak
e.

  Gray bent down and plucked up the missing pages from the Codex Gigas. "So much death, all over these." He quickly ripped them to shreds, tossing the remains into the air, where they were quickly snatched up by the wind and carried away.

  "Those were priceless," Samantha reminded him. "Shouldn’t we have turned them into a museum or something?"

  "They were created by the devil," Gray retorted. When he stood up, Samantha shrank away from the fury in his mismatched eyes. It didn’t reach his features, which remained unmoved, making it all the worse. "When we find things like that, we have to destroy them. No matter the cost."

  "Sure, Chief," Morgan said. "We got it."

  Gray nodded, walking away from them. He felt like this case had gone awry. They had accomplished nothing, save for destroying the cursed papers. Lunt was still free, as was Pemberley. Harry Nance and his girlfriend were both dead. It left a sour taste in his mouth but it did solidify his desire to see things through to the end. He would not rest until the monsters of the world were slain and the truth about his past had been laid bare.

  No matter the cost.

  ***

  Miya Shimada sat silently in the passenger seat while Lunt drove back to their rooms. She had hidden out of sight during their confrontation, knowing that it wasn’t quite time for her to confront her former lover. She had managed to sneak a peek at him and she was reminded again of all that she’d found so intoxicating about him in the past: his determination, his well-formed physique and his smoldering eyes. They were almost enough to make a corrupted woman believe in redemption.

  Almost.

  A smile touched her lips and she whispered to herself, "Lazarus Gray." She repeated the name a few more times, as if tasting it. "I wonder what you’ll do when you find out about yourself."

  She laughed then, startling Lunt, who looked at her as if she were insane. She sat back in her seat and closed her eyes, imagining the days to come. She wasn’t sure how it would resolve itself but she knew that it was going to be fascinating to watch.

  THE END

  THE CORPSE SCREAMS AT MIDNIGHT

  An Adventure of Lazarus Gray

  Written by Barry Reese

  Chapter I

  The Lady in White

  "God is dead."

  Samantha Grace shifted uncomfortably, casting a nervous glance at Morgan Watts, who sat beside her. They were the only members of Assistance Unlimited at headquarters, so it had been they who had been tasked with interviewing the young woman who had come to their door, seeking help. No one came to Assistance Unlimited unless they had exhausted all other means of aid, for Lazarus Gray and his followers were as feared as they were loved. This wasn’t because any member of Assistance Unlimited cultivated an aura of fear; it was simply a result of Sovereign City’s innate nature. The city was as corrupt as any in the United States and even good-hearted people tended to be distrustful of anyone who seemed to operate out of a spirit of altruism, as Gray and his people did. When everyone seemed corrupt, the virtuous were regarded with suspicion.

  "Could you repeat that, Ma’am?" Morgan asked, leaning forward. He was forty-two years old and pencil-thin. As always, he was dressed in a black suit and tie, his fedora hat resting on the tabletop next to his right hand. His dark hair was slicked back and his moustache waxed.

  The young woman in white visibly composed herself before continuing. She looked a few years older than Samantha, which put her somewhere in her mid-twenties. With dark hair, dusky complexion and large, liquid eyes, she was in stark contrast with Samantha, who had golden blonde hair, blue eyes and a peaches-and-cream skin color. The lady in white had the air about her of a woman used to getting her way. She had not been pleased to learn that Lazarus Gray was away on business, meaning that she’d have to reveal her private affairs to his employees. "I told you: God is dead. That’s what the corpse said."

  "That’s what I thought you said," Morgan muttered. "Think you could back up and start over? So far, what you’re saying isn’t making a whole lot of sense."

  The woman sighed loudly and closed her eyes for several seconds, obviously trying to steel herself for what was to come. "I’m sorry. I’m not normally so cross."

  Morgan somehow doubted that but he forced a smile. "It’s okay. We’re used to it. People come to see us in all sorts of states."

  "I’m sure," she answered. "My name is Lorraine Mitchell. My husband was President of the Sovereign People’s Bank. You probably heard about his death. It was in all the papers two weeks ago. He had a heart attack in his study in the middle of the night. I was sleeping at the time and was awoken by a terrible, blood-curdling scream. I sat bolt upright in my bed and looked at the clock. I distinctly remember that it was exactly midnight."

  "It must have been terrible finding your husband’s body like that," Samantha said, trying to be comforting.

  The withering stare she got in return silenced her immediately. Morgan could sense that Mrs. Mitchell didn’t care much for Samantha and he wondered why. Then again, some beautiful women simply had it in for other gorgeous dames, he mused. There could only be so many Queen Bees in some women’s lives, after all. "I suppose it was," Lorraine answered. "Though my husband and I had a marriage of convenience. It was based out of mutual need, not love."

  "How so?" Samantha asked, dispensing with pleasantries. Her tone was now clipped and much more formal. It was the exact same tone she’d been using with Morgan lately. He’d invited her to see a film with him not long ago, swearing it was simply one friend wanting to spend time with another. But things had gone so well that he’d tried putting the moves on her afterward, leaning in to steal a kiss after the show. He was pretty sure he could still feel the sting of her slap to his face.

  "My husband inherited his position at the bank but his father was adamant that he find financial security on his own. As such, my husband was given a job but he wasn’t able to touch a penny of his family’s fortune. He tried to turn his salary into something more substantial in the stock market but as we all know, that’s not nearly as easy now as it was back in the Twenties. Eventually, he came up with an easier route to financial success: he married me. I’m quite wealthy and my husband found my checkbook just as desirable as the swish of my hips."

  "And what did you get out of the… partnership?" Samantha inquired.

  "I’ve never been one for romance, Miss Grace. I planned to have children someday and I wanted them to have plenty of opportunities. My husband’s family name would have provided those in spades. Unfortunately, he died without giving me a child. It was just like him. He wasn’t much of a success at anything, really." Lorraine opened her purse, taking out a cigarette. "Do you mind if I smoke?"

  Morgan retrieved a set of matches from the inner pocket of his jacket. He lit her cigarette and she took a few puffs before continuing.

  "One of my husband’s favorite ways of spending my money was visiting Europe. He cultivated a lot of friendships over there, especially in England. I think it made him feel very Continental." Lorraine chuckled coldly. "When he came back from his last trip, he’d brought back a trophy. He said it was for me but I knew better. What would I want with a moldy old corpse wrapped up in bandages?"

  Samantha reached down and smoothed out the folds of her skirt. She was aware of Morgan watching her movements and she tried to ignore it. She was still a bit angry over their evening out together, though most of her anger was actually directed at herself. She shouldn’t have put herself in that position, nor should she have laughed so hard at his jokes. She’d encouraged him and even though he was handsome and intelligent, they were coworkers. She couldn’t jeopardize her position with Assistance Unlimited over a romantic fling. Clearing her throat, she asked, "Where did he manage to acquire a mummy?"

  Lorraine waved her cigarette dismissively. "Oh, owning a mummy was all the rage in England a few decades back. Anyone who was anyone had at least one of the little Egyptians propped against the study room wall. They’d have unwrapping parti
es, where the owners could show them off to their friends. Ghastly, if you ask me. Anyway, my husband had a friend over there – a Mr. Garmont, I believe – who was in possession of three of the things. They were just stacked up like cordwood in the attic. Well, my husband fell in love upon seeing them. He simply had to have one. So he bought her and brought her back."

  "Her?" Morgan asked.

  "Yes. Garmont told him some cock and bull story about the mummy having once been a princess of some sort. He insisted we call her Femi around the house. The thing stank like old linen and formaldehyde. He was in the room with it when he died, which wasn’t a surprise. He spent most nights in the study with her."

  Morgan tapped his fingers on the tabletop thoughtfully. "And at what point did the mummy speak to you?"

  "Exactly three days after my husband’s death. It was the day of his funeral and I was restless that evening so I couldn’t sleep. I wandered around our home nursing a bottle of scotch until I ended up in the study. I happened to glance at the time and noticed it was 11:59. I had just sat down at his old desk when the clock struck twelve… and the mummy began to move. I was terrified, I’ll tell you that. The little bitch turned her head and looked right at me and I swear to you that I wasn’t drunk enough to have imagined that. She looked right at me and screamed. It was an awful sound, like someone was witnessing something so horrible that they couldn’t bear it." Lorraine’s fingers began to tremble and her cigarette dropped ash onto her white dress. She brushed it away and licked her lips nervously. "When the screaming was finished, it told me, ‘God is dead.’"

  "And has this happened to you since?"

  "Every three nights, like clockwork. The only differences have been slight. The second time it happened, she raised and arm and pointed at me. The third time, she took two steps in my direction. Every time she screams, she gets closer to being animate again. I think she killed my husband. I don’t know if it was intentional or not, but she caused the heart attack that killed him. I’m sure of it."