by Barry Reese
Max nodded quickly, already formulating plans for how the Peregrine could launch his investigation. “I’ll call McKenzie and get started.” He paused before the window, looking outside. Nettie, the old woman who kept house for him, was retrieving the last of the day’s wash from the line. She was a good woman, though of a somewhat testy bent from time to time. “Nyarlathotep cursed me, Benson. He marked me, both physically and spiritually. Ever since I’ve been heading down some dark paths… and I can’t seem to stop. How do you keep yourself from going over the edge? The things you’ve seen… the people you’ve lost… how do you make sure you don’t become as evil as the men and women you hunt down?”
“I don’t sit around and whine about my situation,” Benson replied. When Max turned in surprise, Benson locked eyes with him. “Do what you must to soothe your conscience, Max… but never forget that you’re putting criminals away for life. You’re protecting the innocent. Never forget that.”
Stunned by the power in the man’s voice and eyes, Max could do little more than nod. “I… won’t. I promise.”
CHAPTER IV
Hands of the Abomination
McKenzie stared at the mummified hands in mounting disgust. They smelled like they’d been pickled at some point in the recent past and they gave him the honest to god creeps. He’d called the Davies house earlier in the night, wanting to show these things off to Max. It had turned out that the Peregrine was in some sort of meeting but Nettie had promised to pass on his request for a midnight get-together as soon as Max was free.
“Working late, Chief?”
McKenzie looked up from his desk and nodded at one of his subordinates. “Perils of being the boss,” he said with a laugh. “Go on out on patrol. I’ll watch things here at the station.”
“Whatever you say,” the man agreed.
McKenzie watched him go, running a hand under his hat and through his hair. The youngest police chief in the nation, he had earned the respect of his men through his fearlessness and dedication to his profession. It certainly hadn’t been for his skill in housekeeping, however, as one glance at the messy office would attest.
He sat down behind his desk, wondering what was keeping Max. Working with the Peregrine had given McKenzie some real frights but it had also allowed him to see things that a normal man would never conceive of. The whole affair with the Kingdom of Blood still woke him up on some nights… but whether it was from terror or excitement was unclear even to him.
Movement outside the window brought a smile to his handsome face. Young and fit, there were many in the city who thought he could have been a movie star if things had gone differently. Enough people had said it to prompt McKenzie to think about asking Evelyn her thoughts on the matter. As he rose to move to the window, he said aloud “‘Bout time you showed up. I was beginning to wonder if I was being stood up tonight.”
As the policeman pulled the curtain to the side, however, he received one of the biggest shocks of his life. On the other side of the window was not the mysterious vigilante known as the Peregrine but rather a group of four men dressed in black clothing. Their faces were obscured by cloth masks that covered their mouths and chins but McKenzie could see from their eyes that they were of Asian descent.
McKenzie barely had time to back away before one of the men slammed a small baton of some sorts through the window, sending shards of glass flying. The sound was terribly loud in the quiet police house but McKenzie was the only officer still on duty.
The four men—ninja, McKenzie thought they were called, though he was far from an expert on such things—climbed through the window with incredible speed and grace. Each of them produced small curved blades and looked about the office, their eyes coming to a halt on the bizarre hands that lay upon the desk. McKenzie swore under his breath, wishing that Max had gotten here faster.
McKenzie drew his service revolver but was far too slow against the trained assassin. The first of them knocked the officer’s hand aside with the flat edge of his blade and a second ran forward, leaping into the air to deliver a kick straight to McKenzie’s head. The blow knocked him onto his back, scattering a number of papers.
The one who had struck him first then knelt over him, putting the edge of his blade to McKenzie’s throat. In heavily accented English, the man whispered “Prepare to die, Imperialistic dog.”
“Wait!” another hissed. McKenzie turned his head as far as he dared and noticed that this ninja had picked up the hands and placed them into a small box. “Someone approaches!”
One of the ninja ran to the window and looked out, nodding. “It is the Peregrine. How did you know?”
“His car is made to be silent,” the ninja explained, “but the master thought to have me place small sensing devices all around the area before we approached. When his car approached, he ran over one of them.”
“Bully for you,” McKenzie hissed. He struck out while the ninja were distracted, knocking away the one who had been perched upon him. The officer scrambled to his feet quickly but not before one of the other ninja had speared him through the side with his sword. Pain flared throughout McKenzie’s body and he cried out as the world began to swim around him.
As the police chief sagged to his knees, the ninja hurriedly abandoned the office, fleeing through the window once more. They had vanished into the stillness of the night long before the Peregrine reached the station. He took immediate notice of the broken window and the flurry of footprints outside in the damp soil.
With his pistols in hand, the Peregrine sprang through the window, landing in a crouch. When he saw that McKenzie was alone and that the man was badly wounded, he holstered his gun and rushed to his friend’s aid. “McKenzie!” he exclaimed, checking to see that the wound, while deep, would not be a fatal one. “What happened?”
McKenzie coughed as Max lifted his head and cradled it in his arms. “Wanted to show you something that was picked up from a small-time crook… think he was going to sell it to someone on the black market. But those ninja decided they wanted it first.”
“I’ll get you some medical attention,” the Peregrine said. “And then you’re going to tell me everything you know about those… what were they again?”
“Hands,” McKenzie said with a groan. “Only they weren’t with the rest of the body anymore, if you catch my drift.”
The Peregrine merely nodded, turning over the facts in his brain. Ninja… so soon after Benson had warned him about an Asian warlord loose in Atlanta? The connection was stunningly obvious. You picked the wrong town to come into, Mr. Warlike Manchu…
CHAPTER V
Council of Evil!
Ibis ran his hands over the girl’s supple flesh, admiring the curves of her nubile young body. She was freshly dead, having been pulled from a car wreck less than two hours ago, and still had some of the appearance of life. “She will do very nicely,” he purred, turning her head to the side so that he might view the wound that had killed her. From all appearances, she had been thrown forward and smashed her skull against the windshield. The injury did little to mar her features, which marked her as having Egyptian ancestry… exactly the kind of girl that Ibis had specifically requested.
Mr. Li watched all of this with hidden distaste. He wore a finely tailored suit that emphasized his fit nature and his hair was smoothed back from his prominent forehead. “If you are capable of making slaves out of people as easily as you did your cab driver, why do you still require the use of corpses?”
Ibis glanced up, having almost forgotten the little man was present. They were in the quarters set aside for Ibis, a set of rooms located in the heart of the Warlike Manchu’s headquarters. The furnishings were spare with only the minimum of furniture, but Ibis had made do quite well. The girl was spread out over the dining table, a long wooden rectangle that had creaked slightly under her weight. “I desire more than mere soldiers, Mr. Li. I desire companionship as well.”
This time, Li could not hide his horror. “You mean to bed th
is… corpse?”
“Do not judge the things you cannot comprehend,” Ibis responded. He marched towards Li, sending the other man scrambling away. “Get out of my quarters! Now! Leave me alone with my bride-to-be!”
“You speak harshly to your betters, Mr. Ibis.”
Ibis stiffened in surprise. He turned to see the Warlike Manchu standing behind him, on the other side of the table. How he had entered was beyond a mystery but equally surprising was the fact that Manchu was speaking to him in a dialect that few living men outside of Ibis could understand. Ibis let his eyes roam over the man’s lithe physique and startling green and gold robes, upon which the image of an Oriental dragon was rampant. “I did not realize,” Ibis replied, continuing to speak in the secret language of the Pharaohs, “that your servants were considered my superiors.”
The Warlike Manchu reached a gaunt hand to stroke at the long moustache he wore. “Mr. Li has distinguished himself over years of service. I will not have him threatened again.”
Ibis considered making an angry retort but he held his tongue. Though he could summon his mummified followers with a mental command, they would take precious seconds to enter the room. By then, he knew, the master criminal before him could strike with deadly skill. “I will attempt to restrain my anger in the future.” Changing the subject, Ibis asked “Have your men recovered the hands?”
“Yes,” the Warlike Manchu answered, reaching out to squeeze the dead woman’s leg. His touch left deep imprints in the flesh. “They narrowly avoided a confrontation with the Peregrine. He is a deadly foe and should be met only when we have no other alternative.”
“You are afraid of him,” Ibis countered, pleased to see that the Warlike Manchu was capable of human faults.
“I am wisely cautious,” the Warlike Manchu said. “We are on unfamiliar ground here, testing an enemy who knows how to handle himself. We should pursue the remaining component—the brain of the Abomination—with great haste.”
“My servants are ready for the task,” Ibis swore.
“Do not lose yourself in illicit pleasures,” the Warlike Manchu warned, casting one last glance at the corpse. He strode past Ibis, gesturing for Li to follow suit. When the two men were outside the room, the Warlike Manchu whispered in Mandarin. “It is time that I paid a visit to the Peregrine.”
Li blinked in surprise. “You are going to confront him directly, Master? That is not like you!”
“Have I not told you?” the Warlike Manchu said with a knowing smile. “I have met this man before… during his long travels in the Orient. He was younger then, filled with rage about the murder of his father. He sought to learn from the aged masters, he became an adept in all forms of martial arts and meditation.”
Li shook his head. “Then you know him well?”
“Of course. I was his Sensei.”
CHAPTER VI
An Evil History
“A package just arrived,” Evelyn said, setting a heavy envelope down on the kitchen table in front of Max. She was dressed in a very pleasant floral print skirt and blouse, her auburn hair falling in gentle curls around her shoulders. “And I’m off to see McKenzie at the hospital. I don’t suppose you’ll be coming with me?”
Max looked down at the rumpled pajamas he was still wearing at half past ten and shook his head. “I called in special favors to get this delivered so quickly. I owe it to McKenzie to find out what’s going on.”
“Why not just find the kid who was trying to sell the hands? He must know what’s going on.”
“Can’t. He was found facedown in a puddle of mud around six this morning. By me.”
Evelyn watched as Max tore open the envelope and withdrew a small leather-bound pamphlet. “So what is it?”
“An associate of mine—Felix Cole—handles rare books. Binds them himself when necessary. I called Leopold last night to see if he’d heard of anything like this… hands and such being traded on the black market… and he told me that Cole might know something. Turns out he does. There’s been several instances of body parts being stolen or even killed for in recent months. Turns out they’re all parts of the same being.”
“You make it sound like it’s not human.”
“I don’t think it was.”
“Well, I’ll leave you to it then.” She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. “Don’t run off to fight demons without me.”
Max nodded, already focusing on the book. There was a note attached—from Leopold—asking when Max was going to return to regularly attending Nova Alliance meetings. Max set the note aside. As much as he enjoyed the company of Leopold Grace, Clark Savage, Lamont Cranston and all the rest, he had no time for them at present. Of course, you’re still using them whenever it’s convenient, he reminded himself. You should really take a weekend and introduce Evelyn to your friends.
Max smiled. His inner voice was beginning to sound a lot like his father.
The pages of the book were old but in reasonably good condition, the handwritten script on their pages flowing legibly:
In the final years of the Pharaoh’s reign, the advisor known as Ibis came to full power. His command over the dark arts became the stuff of legend but nothing he accomplished—not the reviving of the dead nor the enslavement of the living—equaled the summoning of the Abomination. An entity from the stygian depths, the Abomination was the embodiment of all that was evil and chaotic in the world. The Abomination was too powerful to control, however, and he became a force unto himself. He raped or murdered all he encountered, using forces beyond human comprehension. Ibis attempted to restore his control over the creature but succeeded only in driving the entity into hiding. From the shadows the Abomination lurked for many years, becoming known by many names all over the world: the Bogeyman, the Walker of the Dead, the Chaos Lord. In the year 1724 A.D., the Abomination was at last trapped by a great sorcerer and his spirit was taken to the World of Shadows, which lurks just beyond the range of human understanding. There he became the most powerful warrior in a great army of demons but in time he encountered a human who had traveled to the World of Shadows. Eobard Grace did defeat the Abomination, using a magical sword known sometimes as Excalibur. Grace carved the monster into bits and had the body parts scattered far and wide, but in time they came to all reside on Earth once more. Should they be brought together, there is a spell that may be used to recreate the monster—and, it is said, that he will be weak enough for a strong-willed man or woman to finally bind him forever to their spirit.
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.”
