by Barry Reese
Before Mitchell could say anything, she was gone, having leaped out of the window.
“You’re the craziest woman I ever met,” Mitchell muttered under his breath.
BACK AT HENDRY Hall, the group gathered in the study, each taking their usual places. Gravedigger sat in her uniform, sans mask, at the desk that once belonged to Josef. Mitchell sat to her right, his chair facing hers. Cedric and Li were side-by-side next to the fireplace, whispering to each other. Mortimer, always the odd man out, stood by the door, his back pressed against it.
The Silver Skull had been retrieved from its spot in the safe and was now resting on the desk. It seemed to have taken hold over the minds of everyone in the room, for their eyes kept drifting back to it.
“Tell us again what the runes said,” Li asked, turning away from Cedric and focusing on the task at hand. Whatever he had just said to the young Asian girl had brought a flush to her cheeks. From the twinkle in her eyes, it had been some sort of suggestion that she had found most agreeable.
Gravedigger sighed. They had been over these details again and again since her return. “The ageless woman sleeps in The Silver Skull. To awaken her is to begin the end of times. The woman who digs graves shall be her other.”
“We need to destroy that thing,” Mortimer said. When everyone turned to look at him, he gave a shrug of his shoulders and added, “Every Gravedigger has an ‘Other.’ That’s the person who mirrors you in some way. They’re your equal not only physically but also mentally and emotionally. Every time you face them, it’s a deadly confrontation. If your Other is in there, you don’t want her getting loose. I was lucky to have killed mine, but I’d guess that the majority of Gravediggers who don’t survive their three-year tenure are done in by their Other.”
It was Li, always the clever girl, who asked the obvious question. “So if The Voice empowers Gravedigger, then who’s the power behind The Other?”
“Whoever or whatever it is,” Charity responded, “They work in opposition to what I’m doing. That’s all that matters. From what I’ve gathered, though, it works a bit differently than the Gravedigger thing. There’s no three-year limit on them, they’re bound to their master forever and are used as specific foils for the Gravediggers.”
Mitchell nodded. “Then I guess I’m in agreement with Mortimer. No need to let her out, not if we can help it.”
“That’s the problem,” Gravedigger replied. “How do we do that? It’s not easy to simply destroy this thing,” she said, tapping The Silver Skull. “If it was, it would have been long ago. And if we did destroy it, who’s to say that wouldn’t just release Pandora anyway?”
“So then we dig a big hole, fill it with concrete and let it sit.” Mitchell grinned. “Let her rot in that Skull.”
“You have something else in mind, don’t you?” Li asked, staring at Charity. The two women had known each other longer than anyone else in the room and their bond was a strong one. With a devilish grin, Li clapped her hands together and exclaimed, “This is going to be very dangerous, isn’t it?”
“You’re a strange woman,” Mortimer murmured, still unnerved by Li’s willingness to throw herself into the flames of danger.
“She’s brave and smart – and beautiful,” Cedric retorted, glaring at Mortimer.
“I’m not arguing any of those points,” Mortimer said. “But it doesn’t change my point at all.”
Gravedigger stood up and all conversation ceased. She was the team’s leader and the only person who might have possibly challenged that role had recently been put into his place. As such, there was a definite feeling that whatever Gravedigger decided would be the path they would take, regardless of individual concerns.
“Whoever sent this to me wanted me to take it to the museum. They wanted me to find out the truth about The Skull. That’s why they stole the information I was carrying.” Gravedigger picked up the Skull and stared into its gleaming eye sockets. “I’m pretty sure they think I’m dead now, which means they’ll want The Skull back.”
Mitchell tensed in his seat. “You’re saying they’re going to make a raid on Hendry Hall, aren’t you?”
“I’d bet my last dollar on it.”
“Then we’ll be ready for them! Once we’ve captured them, we’ll make them talk.”
“I don’t want the rest of you here.”
The looks of surprise on the faces of the men were only dwarfed by the extreme disappointment evident on Li’s.
Mitchell sprang to his feet, fists clenched. “That man left you for dead, Charity. You’re in no shape to take on him and whatever army he might have with him!”
Gravedigger placed a hand on her lover’s chest. “They think I’m dead, remember? If we have you guys out of the house, they won’t be expecting any trouble at all. I’ll take them completely by surprise.”
“Doesn’t mean that it’s not crazy.” Mitchell covered her small hand with his own, which covered it completely. “Besides, you don’t know when they’re coming. What do you want us to do? Stay away for however long it takes?”
“They won’t waste any time, I’m certain of that. They also won’t come during the day.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because the guy who shot me told me his name.”
“Why didn’t you tell us that?” Mitchell asked, his mouth falling open. He didn’t bother asking why she hadn’t mentioned that fact to the police. He knew that she’d want to deal with the would-be murderer herself.
Ignoring the question, Gravedigger said, “His name is Hiroshi Tamaki. He’s a Japanese immigrant who moved to this country several years ago. His family was once close to the Imperial throne but factors never conspired to allow them the chance to seize power for themselves. Now they’ve fallen on hard times and Tamaki fled to the United States along with what was left of their fortune. He literally abandoned his own parents to a life of squalor.”
“Sounds like a real peach,” Cedric said.
Gravedigger nodded and continued. “Since coming to Sovereign, he’s gotten his fingers into a lot of organized crime, mostly bankrolling other operators and then skimming the profits. It keeps him out of the eyes of the police but on top of the action.”
“Let me offer up a guess here,” Mitchell said. “He’s not just your average criminal. He has an interest in the occult and wants to become immortal or something, right?”
“I don’t know about that last part but he does have an interest in the occult. He was a frequent customer of Bingwen and bought up his property after the old man died.”
“I’ve seen him!” Li exclaimed. “There’s a Japanese man who comes and goes from there. A few others visit him pretty regularly but I’m not sure who they are. I’m not in Chinatown as often as I used to be.”
Gravedigger shrugged her shoulders. “There’s no telling. Tamaki has a lot of contacts. I think he came across The Silver Skull at some point and maybe even had some theories regarding Pandora but he wasn’t sure. He needed someone to verify it all for him. All of you heard about the breakout at the prison earlier today. Well, the man who escaped was Dr. Jonah Craig. He was serving a prison sentence for attempted theft of some items from the museum and he’s written a number of papers about the historical accuracy of the Pandora myth.”
“So why not just break out this Craig guy and avoid bringing us into it at all?” Mortimer moved closer to the group now and Gravedigger was suddenly glad that he was present. He thought of things in a similar manner to how she did and, even though the conclusions they drew were often different, she could perfectly understand how and why he got to them.
Cedric interrupted, asking, “Wait, do we know for sure that the breakout is related to Tamaki?”
“Too big of a coincidence for it not to be,” Mitchell answered, eliciting a nod of agreement from Gravedigger.
“Mitchell’s right. So we have to ask ourselves the very same question that Mortimer just raised: if he knew that I was going to get the answers to The Skul
l’s history, why break out Craig? Obviously, he has another purpose in mind for him. Given the manhunt that’s out there for both Craig and his accomplices, Tamaki isn’t going to waste any time. That’s why I think he’s going to send someone to get The Silver Skull tonight.”
“And because some of his key henchmen were involved in the prison breakout, he won’t want to send them out in broad daylight to do something like this,” Mortimer said. “Which leads you to assume that they’ll make their move tonight.”
“Exactly.”
Mitchell sighed, still looking unhappy. “If you want us out of here, that’s what we’ll do. You know that. But at least let us stay within earshot so you can call us if it comes to that.”
Cedric snapped his fingers. “I know just the place. We can make a big show of driving out at sundown, just in case anyone is watching the house. Then we double back around and park at the old groundskeeper’s place at the edge of the property. We’d be able to hear any gunshots that were fired.”
Gravedigger smiled at Mitchell. “See? We both get what we want.”
Mitchell wasn’t budging, however. “Let me get this straight, though. You’re going to be lying in wait for them, not knowing if they’re coming with two people or twenty. We’re going to be at the far edge of the property which means by the time we get here you could have been shot or stabbed a good dozen times and you’re doing to be fighting them with a gunshot wound in your belly that’s less than twelve hours old?”
“That’s the plan.”
The two lovers stared at one another for a long moment. It was finally Mitchell who relented, exhaling slowly and saying, “If you do end up dead, I’m going to say I told you so.”
Chapter V: Pandora Rising
“They’ve been gone for over an hour. I say we make our move.”
Locke stood a few feet away from Quick Dan, who was nervously puffing on a cigarette and staring through a pair of binoculars. She had initially offered to spell him occasionally but after staring at the gloomy structure of Hendry Hall for more than a minute, she’d shivered and shoved the binoculars back into his hands. The place sent a spike of fear straight into her chest. It looked like something out of a Bela Lugosi movie.
A group of eight men were with them, huddled together next to the cars they’d brought. The thugs were the sort for whom rape and murder were almost second nature. They didn’t ask any questions about what the job entailed. All they cared about was getting paid. If it required them to break into somebody’s home and possibly kill once they had done so, they were more than willing to do it.
“You’re the boss of this one,” Locke said to Dan. “Whenever you say jump, we’re ready.”
Dan glanced at her, his beady eyes staring into hers. “I won’t forget the way he’s treated you, baby. Eventually he’s going to get his.”
Locke was almost touched. She and Dan were sexual partners but she’d never loved him and never would. She didn’t think he really loved her either but he knew a good thing when he saw it and was willing to go to great lengths to have their affair continue. In a sorry place like Sovereign, that was sometimes the best you could hope for. “Don’t let your mouth write checks that your body can’t cash, Danny boy. Hiroshi doesn’t take lightly to backtalk.” She reached up and touched her bruised neck. “I ought to know.”
Dan yanked open one of the car doors and raised his voice. “Let’s go, boys. Place should be empty but we ain’t takin’ no chances. We’ll kick the door down and start ransacking it until we find what we’re looking for.”
“And what’s that?” one of the men asked.
“You’ll know it when you see it. It’s a Silver Skull.”
Several of the goons exchanged looks but Locke thought they were mostly laughing to themselves. Let them, she reasoned. The less they knew about how important The Skull was, the better.
AMAZINGLY, THE INTERIOR of Hendry Hall was even more foreboding than the exterior. The heavy oak door had resisted the group’s attempts at breaking it down, finally succumbing only after two of the men had grabbed hold of a heavy log and turned it into a makeshift battering ram.
Locke and Dan led the way, finally ordering the men to spread out. The house was quiet, the long shadows giving everything a supernatural air. This was worsened by the fact that the décor seemed chosen for the express purpose of frightening visitors: an Egyptian sarcophagus was propped up in the hallway; a series of shrunken heads were displayed in a shadowbox mounted on the wall; and there was a painting of what looked to be androgynous spell casters placed above the fireplace in the study.
Dan was staring at the painting so intently that he failed to notice The Silver Skull that was sitting on the desk. Locke caught sight of it and gasped aloud, drawing her partner’s attention. He followed her gaze and let out a whistle. The ugly grin that spread on his face did nothing to improve his appearance.
“This is going easier than I expected it would!” he admitted.
“Something’s wrong here.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, looking around. All was still quiet and dark.
“This is too easy.”
“Nobody’s home. It’s supposed to be easy.”
“Their friend gets gunned down in the middle of the street and they all take off, leaving The Silver Skull sitting out like this? It’s not even in a box, Dan! Doesn’t that seem strange to you?”
Quick Dan paused, a frown starting to form on his face. “Okay, that is a little bit weird…”
It was then that the screams began.
IT WAS THE men known as Slick Phil and Screwball who first felt the deadly presence of Gravedigger.
The two men, longtime friends, were creeping up the stairs when they heard a rush of movement behind them. Screwball, so named because of his bald head, whirled about with gun at the ready. He never got to fire it because Gravedigger was rushing up the stairs, sword in hand. She wore her full uniform, her masked face half hidden by the raised hood over her head. In the dim lighting, she looked like a demonic figure come to life.
She jabbed her blade into Screwball’s belly and yanked upwards, disemboweling him. By the time Phil was reacting, her sword had cut deep into his throat, nearly decapitating him. They both hit the stairs and began to roll down into the foyer.
Leaping over their corpses, Gravedigger ran down one of the dark hallways, where three of the other men were just reaching Mitchell’s first-floor bedroom. She came upon them with amazing speed, cutting the arm off one of the men before she drove an elbow into the face of another. The third man gave a surprised shout even as his one-armed friend began howling in pain. Gravedigger silenced them both with a quick set of thrusts that sent the point of her blade digging deep into their hearts.
The man whose face had been on the receiving end of Gravedigger’s elbow had recovered enough to put some distance between himself and her blade. Backing up down the hall, he raised his gun and pulled the trigger.
Gravedigger dropped to the ground, avoiding the bullets. She slid across the recently waxed floor, squeezing between the bodies of the men she’d just killed. With her sword extended upward, she went right through the legs of the gunman. The blade caught in his groin, prompting him to howl in a high-pitched manner.
Yanking her weapon free, Gravedigger sprang back to her feet. Now behind the wounded man, she grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head towards her. A second later, her sword slit his throat. After shoving the dying man to the floor, Gravedigger saw three more men entering the hall. The cramped fighting ground seemingly made her a sitting duck as they opened fire but she managed to lower her shoulder and throw herself against the door to her left. It opened under her weight and she rolled into Mitchell’s room.
Scrambling back up, she saw the first of the men swing into the doorway. He yelped as her sword whipped out and took off the tip of his nose. As his hands came up to cover his wound, Gravedigger raised her weapon with both hands and brought it crashing down atop his skull.
Grabbing hold of the dying man’s collar, she shoved him back into the hall, propelling him ahead of her like a shield. His friend’s bullets slammed into the man but failed to reach Gravedigger. When she was close enough, she gave a mighty heave and the bloodied figure bumped against one of the other men, knocking him off-balance.
Flush with excitement, Gravedigger raised her right hand and activated the small device that controlled her mini-crossbow. The bolt flew forth, embedding itself in the eye of the closest of the gunmen. A fresh bolt automatically slid into place, moving up from a small quiver held under her wrist.
By the time the other gunman had freed himself from the bloody embrace of his former friend, it was too late. Gravedigger’s sword whistled through the air and sent his head bouncing off the ceiling.
In less than two minutes, eight men had died but Gravedigger knew that they were not the only ones who had entered her home. She strode quickly towards the study, pausing as she neared the door. The gunfire and sounds of battle would have attracted not only the attention of the other criminals but also her aides, who were no doubt on the way back to the house now. Knowing Mitchell, he would have kept the engine running for just such an emergency.
Keeping her back to the wall, she paused just outside of the open door and said, “I saw two of you go into this room and I’m betting that both of you are armed. Toss your weapons out into the hall and I’ll let you both live. I give you my word.”
About twenty seconds later, a single handgun flew to the floor next to Gravedigger’s foot. It landed with a thud and Gravedigger kicked it far down the hall before saying, “I don’t believe that you only have one gun between the two of you. Where’s the other one?”
Alerted by some sixth sense, Gravedigger dropped into a crouch. The act saved her life as a bullet passed right through the wall above her. If she’d remained standing, it would have hit her in the back of the neck.
