by Barry Reese
“Out cold,” she answered, flexing her left wrist. “He’s got a hard head,” she pouted.
Max laughed and brought her injured hand to his lips. After a brief kiss, he gestured towards his own car, parked just out of sight. “We’d better get out of her. I’ll summon the police for these two.”
“Did you find out where Satan might be?”
“No… but I was right. It all ties in to something Bane Industries is up to. And I did get one new clue from Bostiff. Satan wants something called ‘the Un-Earth.’”
“What is that?” Evelyn wondered.
“No clue,” Max replied with a sigh. “But whatever it is… we can’t let Satan have it.”
CHAPTER III
Other Worlds, Other Lives
1936, Boscastle Beach
“The water’s awful. Frigid!” Claire ran towards Nathaniel, shaking out her long brown hair before collapsing onto the towel next to him. The weather was nice today, with temperatures soaring into the upper 60s Fahrenheit. It gave Claire a nice excuse to reveal her lithe young figure in the new swimsuit she’d bought last fall—and Nathaniel was glad of it. She was gorgeous, with her every move sending little tingles of excitement through him.
“Yes… I can see that it’s a bit nipply. I mean nippy,” he laughed.
“You crass little pervert,” Claire replied, though her eyes revealed that she found his teasing to be more flirty than insulting. “You would notice that, wouldn’t you? Can’t keep your eyes on anything else.”
“Not true.” He rolled over onto his side, putting one arm around her waist. His somewhat long hair fell into his face, just the way she liked. “I also like your bum.”
“Cad.”
“You love it.”
“I think you’re horrid.”
They kissed… and for one long, wet moment, everything was fine with the world.
And then insanity took over.
The ground shook as an impact rattled all the beachgoers. Nathaniel grabbed Claire and pulled her closer, opening his eyes to see a blue-skinned brute dressed like a schoolboy pulling himself out of a massive hole. “We’re in serious trouble, luv,” he whispered.
The madman known as Tweedledum glanced around, his eyes twinkling. He caught sight of Nathaniel and Claire, who were nearest to him, and his beefy hand shot out at amazing speed. He gripped Claire about the ankle and hefted her right out of Nathaniel’s grasp. “Oi! Oi!” he cackled, his misshapen teeth flashing in the sun.
Nathaniel tried to scream but he found that his voice produced no sounds. He struggled to his feet, staring mutely at the villain before him. Tweedledum was whipping her about in what would have been a comical fashion, if it hadn’t involved the mutilation of the woman he loved. Her head banged against the beach repeatedly, smearing her features in a bloody mess.
“You murdering scum!” someone yelled from above, drawing the attentions of both Nathaniel and Tweedledum. Nat slumped back to the ground, his eyes wavering back and forth from the brightly clad figure coming from the sky and the disfigured body of his lover. Her hands were twitching, opening and closing spastically. She’s dead, he thought. She has to be. Nobody could live through that.
Dan Daring, massive and brave, rammed straight into the body of his old foe, knocking Claire from his grasp. She landed like a limp little doll, her arms and legs splaying about in an unnatural way. The rich man’s hero, Daring didn’t even bother to check on her before launching into a powerful assault on his opponent. Daring was a genius at gadgetry, having invented the rocketpack that rested on his back even now. He wore brown leathers, the front pocket of his uniform emblazoned with his own trademarked symbol—interlocking D’s. He’d become a media darling in his few years of service to the British people, becoming their own version of the heroes whose exploits dominated the papers and newsreels in the United States, with flamboyant names like Prof. Stone, the Peregrine and the Black Bat.
Nathaniel crawled towards Claire and brought her into his arms, ignoring the fight going on around him. His tears fell warm and salty against her flesh and he felt the unsettling shift of her bones beneath his hands. She felt… broken, as if her skin was now just a bag holding shattered components.
How long he sat there, holding her against him, he didn’t know. He knew she wasn’t breathing, knew she was beyond hope… but he couldn’t quite bring himself to let her go. The mere act of releasing her seemed too final.
“Mate… I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner.”
Nathaniel looked up to see Dan Daring staring down at him. The big man seemed uncertain of how to behave, shifting uneasily from foot to foot. Daring was a larger than life figure in the flesh, his dimpled chin, clean cut blond hair and dazzling blue eyes making him look like a matinee figure.
Nathaniel noticed that the hero avoided looking at Claire. “I’m not your mate. Not now. Not ever.” He looked up at Daring then, his eyes full of fury. “You and your kind killed her. You sodding bastards. You just killed her!”
* * *
1942
“He was a clean bloke, you have to give him that.” Charlie walked through Neville’s office, running a hand over a couple of sculptures. They were expensive and far nicer than anything that a police officer would be able to afford.
“Superficially, I suppose. But he wasn’t so clean on the inside.” Nathaniel flipped through file folders, scanning the contents of each envelope. Most of them contained invoices or memos, unrelated to the prey that he was truly hoping to find.
“May I ask where in the hell you get off barging in here like this?”
Both men turned to see a woman standing with arms crossed in the doorway to Neville’s office. She was an attractive woman in her mid-thirties, with strawberry blonde hair and a trim figure.
“Ms. Sherrilyn McLemore, I presume?” Charlie asked, offering up his brightest smile. He’d seen McLemore on the cover of UK Business and had taken quite a fancy to her. She was one of the few women in England who was considered the equal of any man when it came to the actions taken in a Board room. Nathaniel resisted the urge to grin as his friend ran a hand through his sparse head of hair.
If Sherrilyn noticed the adoration in Charlie’s eyes, she gave no indication of it. Her icy glare never wavered. “I thought you were here to investigate a suicide, not perform a check on our business records.”
“He threw himself out his office window. Makes sense that his death might be related to his business dealings,” Nathaniel responded.
“That’s fine, Inspector… but I would have liked to have known you were coming in here. Many of the files here are private, with information related to our many contacts and consumers.”
Nathaniel sighed, resisting the urge to lash out at her. Following a communion with the dead, he frequently felt lethargic and short-tempered. “Mr. Burke had no family to speak of… Did he ever mention to anyone here that he was feeling stressed? Suicidal?”
“Mr. Burke kept his personal affairs to himself. As do we all. Bane prides itself on maintaining a business-like atmosphere at all times.”
Nathaniel nodded, casting his eyes about the office. The images he’d gotten from Neville had been so profound that he’d had trouble making sense of them all. Some of them, in fact, seemed more like fantasy than reality. Another world… a woman in torment… it was like a sick work of fiction. But Neville had believed them.
And so did Nathaniel.
“I understand that,” he said, “but surely someone would have noticed if he’d been under the weather? Was he working on any stressful accounts, for instance?”
“We’re an international company, one whose worth and importance has only increased with the current war. Everyday is stressful, in its own way. But Bane only hires the best and brightest, Inspector. That’s the way we do things. We handle them.”
“Best and brightest… That’s right,” Nathaniel said, snapping his fingers as if the pieces were falling into place. Beside him, Charlie watched in admirat
ion. He loved watching Nat work. “You people were tied in with that whole Bloodwerks group, weren’t you? Nasty bit of business, that.”
Charlie tried to hide the wince that suddenly came to his eyes. The Bloodwerks affair was something that had been mostly kept out of the newspapers. It had involved several businesses which had turned out to be fronts for a cult more interested in demon worship and human sacrifice than the services they had allegedly been offering. Bane had turned out to have several ties to the group, in terms of shared members of both organizations. The affair had been hushed up considerably but rumors had reached the general populace—not that it had slowed Bane’s progress any.
McLemore’s eyes hardened even more as Nathaniel was speaking. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave, Mr. Caine. I’m not certain I appreciate the insinuations you’re making.”
“I didn’t realize I’d insinuated anything… I was just wondering aloud. Do you think that black magic could have played a part in Mr. Burke’s demise?”
“Don’t be daft.”
“Don’t be evasive.”
Charlie cleared his throat, stepping between the two of them. “Perhaps we best be off for now, Nat. We can always come back later on.”
“You’re right, of course.” Nat flashed a cold smile at McLemore. “I trust you’ll be available later on?”
“I don’t plan to leave London, if that’s what you’re worried about, Mr. Caine.”
“Good show.” Nathaniel stepped out of the office, Charlie at his right. Lowering his voice, he said “I got what we needed… Her mind was like a steel trap, though. It’s so much easier when I can touch them… I barely managed to grab the bit of info I was looking for.”
“And that was?”
Nathaniel smiled at his friend. “Sorry, mate. I sometimes forget you don’t see these things with me… Like I told you before, I saw images of another world… and a girl, trapped. I wanted to know where those things were—and I know now. Fancy taking a trip with me?”
“Will I be home in time for the evening news on the telly?”
“Not even a concern. And I’ll buy you a pint for coming along.”
“You’re a good man, Nathaniel. The very best!”
CHAPTER IV
The Devil in the Details
Sherrilyn McLemore returned to her flat, anger seething within her. She’d known that Neville was growing weak, acting more and more cowardly as they all moved towards the ultimate goal… but to commit suicide? To bring the sodding police straight to Bane’s doorstep? “Bloody little wanker,” she whispered, speaking like a gutter tramp. She normally put on airs around her associates, but the truth was that she was common as they came and had risen to her position through tenacity, a few wellplaced seductions and a talent for recognizing weakness in others.
But that latter attribute had failed her in this case. She should have seen what was coming and acted appropriately… instead, Neville might very well have brought everything crashing down around their collective heads.
Sherrilyn glanced out into the early morning light. She had never been a morning person, instead preferring to stay up late into the night. She was usually still asleep at this hour, rarely going into the office until after lunch. As she moved into the living room, where a number of papers and books were strewn on the various chairs and tables, she skidded to a stop. Seated in front of the door leading to her bedroom was a man dressed in a flowing red cloak. His face was mostly hidden beneath a hood, but the lower half of his face—a sneering smile and a strong chin—was visible.
“Who the hell are you?” Sherrilyn asked, wishing she had kept her coat on upon entering the apartment. She’d tossed it aside immediately, leaving her unable to reach the small handgun she always kept in the liner pocket.
“My name is Satan. Doctor Satan.” The crimson figure gestured for her to have a seat. “Please come in and join me. I think we have a lot to talk about.”
“You broke into my home. I don’t have anything to say to you.”
Doctor Satan laughed, his voice echoing loudly. In the blink of an eye, he had gone from sitting in the chair to standing directly in front of her. She’d never seen him move.
Satan gripped her arms so tightly that she cried out in pain. “Ah, but you do! I want to know about the Un-Earth… I’ve heard so many wonderful stories. I simply have to know the truth!”
Sherrilyn blinked in surprise. “I don’t know what you…”
Satan threw her across the room. She fell across the table, causing her knee to crack on impact. She rolled to the floor, moaning.
Doctor Satan knelt over her back, gripping her hair in his gloved hands and bending her backwards so hard she thought her spine would snap in two. “Open and say ah, Miss McLemore.”
Sherrilyn felt Satan shoving something wet and slimy into her mouth. She tried to spit it out but whatever it was moved like a living thing, slithering down her throat before she could remove it. She retched but the disgusting object remained in her throat.
Satan released her, still chuckling. “You should feel honored. Not many people get to play host to a Teeklos.”
Sherrilyn clutched at her throat, feeling the creature moving wetly in her throat. She continued to feel vomit rising for a moment but then the sensation faded as the Teeklos took a static position within her. “What did you do to me?”
“Gave you a little pet, that’s all.” Satan rubbed his gloved hands together and Sherrilyn was suddenly reminded of the cinema villains. She could easily see him tying a young woman to a set of railroad tracks, cackling all the while. “The Teeklos is a octopoid-like creature. It wraps itself around the soft tissues in your throat and lays eggs. While it’s waiting for the little babies to incubate, it secretes a fluid that makes the victim remarkably pliable to commands.”
Sherrilyn felt her skin grow cold. “Eggs… what happens… when they hatch?”
Satan’s eyes seemed to flash with dark humor. “You really don’t want to know.” He swept his cloak dramatically around him, seating himself once more. “Let’s not waste time, shall we? The incubation period is actually quite short. Where is Lamar Bane?”
Sherrilyn hesitated, as if trying to resist the question… but something made her feel lightheaded and unable to mount a contrary response. “He… isn’t… on this Earth.”
Satan leaned forward, his voice lowering. “This Earth… so the Un-Earth is another world? Another one just like ours?”
“No… not just like ours.” Sherrilyn began to speak, unrolling a story the likes of which not even Doctor Satan had ever heard. As she came to the conclusion of her narrative, her voice became hoarse and somewhat wet sounding. She began to struggle to breathe, her eyes bulging and her tongue beginning to protrude from her lips. She stared at Satan in confusion, a silent plea for help in her face. She managed to squeak out a few more words, telling him where the Un-Earth could be found, before her voice was lost forever in a wetly slobbering din.
“What you’re feeling now is the Teeklos eggs beginning to hatch. It’s very uncomfortable, I would imagine… and it’s only going to get worse, since they have to eat their way to freedom.” Satan stood up, moving to leave. “Thank you for the information, Miss McLemore. I imagine it will prove quite useful.”
Left alone, Sherrilyn McLemore suddenly prayed for a quick death. It was not a prayer that would be answered.
* * *
Doctor Satan stood alone some twenty minutes later, not more than a few hundred yards away from the Houses of Parliament. The things he’d learned seemed far-fetched but of all the men and women on Earth, he knew better than any other that there were times when the most bizarre things imaginable were actually the only ones with any truth to them.
Unfortunately, there would be no assistance for the evil Doctor on this one. He had sought to contact Bostiff and Girse but his scrying had revealed that they were now in police custody… and that Bostiff had been branded by the Peregrine.
Though Ascott Keane
would always be his primary nemesis, Doctor Satan had begun to strongly dislike the Peregrine. There was something in the man’s manner that rubbed him the wrong way, a sort of confidence that seemed to imply that it was only a matter of time before Doctor Satan fell into the Peregrine’s grasp.
Satan looked up into the overcast gray skies of England and began to laugh, the mocking sounds carrying far and wide. Those who were unlucky enough to hear the cold laughter felt chilled to the bone.
“It’s going to end between us, Peregrine. One way or another, only one of us is going back to the United States.”
CHAPTER V
The Un-Earth
“I don’t like the looks of this, Nat… think we should call for some back-up?”
Nathaniel glanced over at his partner, who was staring at the dockyard warehouse with something akin to fear. There was definitely a foreboding air all about the place, making one feel as if they were alone in a graveyard after dark. “Don’t go losing the plot, Charlie—things are moving fine so far.” He tried the door, not being surprised when he’d found it locked. Casting a look about, he noticed that there were no cars parked nearby. From all appearances, no one had come here for quite a long time. “But Neville was here, weren’t you, old boy?” he said to himself.
Charlie watched Nathaniel raise both hands in the air, making some kind of arcane symbol with his fingers. “What are you doing now?”
“Opening the door.”
Green-tinted energy swirled about Nathaniel’s fingers, forcing open the lock. It burst apart, sending tiny metal shards flying.
“Is there nothing you can’t do?” Charlie asked. “You should be hanging out with Kaslov or the Peregrine!”
“Bollocks… Those aren’t real heroes, Charlie. They just like to play dress up and get their faces on the News of the World.”
“Right-o,” his friend said, knowing full well that his friend didn’t care much for the public’s heroes.
Together, they stepped into the warehouse—and Charlie gasped under his breath, while Nathaniel felt a strange sort of disconnection from reality. It was here… the strange images he’d seen in Neville’s mind, all arranged before him.
