The Adventures of Gravedigger

by Barry Reese

  Gravedigger struck expertly – her knife swept up, catching her foe between the breasts, where Gravedigger dug the blade deep. Her sword then came down, decapitating the horrible monster in one fell swoop.

  Splattered with blood, Gravedigger stepped back, letting the corpse hit the soft earthen floor. After putting her weapons away, she immediately began looking around the room once more, convinced that this locked room had to be more than a mere prison: the naked woman-thing was a guard of some sort. But what was she protecting?

  Kneeling, Charity began poking at the earth. Since there was nothing to be seen above ground, could there be something beneath?

  After scooping out several small holes, Gravedigger suddenly yanked her fingers back. Something was moving in the dirt! After forcing her hand back into the ground, she felt her fingers close around something slimy and undulating. She yanked it up into the light, revealing a horrible white worm, one end open with a sucking mouth. The creature was as blind as the woman who had guarded it.

  Gravedigger shoved it into a pouch on her belt, shivering at the thought of carrying the disgusting creature on her person. It wasn’t that she was squeamish about bugs or snakes but something about this thing was unnatural. Further digging showed that there were more of the things, many in various stages of development.

  “It’s a nursery,” she realized with a start. Meeks was cultivating these… things.

  Realizing that she’d spent too much time on this affair, Gravedigger sprinted up the stairs, not bothering to turn off the lights. Meeks would know she’d been there when he discovered the corpse, regardless. Despite that, she did shove the clock back into place, covering up the doorway.

  Then she was out into the night, scurrying off to meet Mitchell. Perhaps Goldstein would recognize this worm that she was carrying and would have advice on how to proceed from here.

  Though she was loath to admit it, she was going to need his help on this one.

  Chapter V: Death Moves Quickly

  Gravedigger and Mitchell knew that something was wrong as soon as they reached the front door. It was partially open, something that Goldstein never would have allowed.

  “Miss Grace, let me enter first.” Mitchell drew a pearl-handled pistol, his dark face lined with concern.

  Charity had changed out of her uniform in the backseat of the car, shoving the weapons and garish clothing into a large bag that was now slung over her shoulder. “I’m not some helpless little girl,” she pointed out, setting her bag down and fishing out a curved blade. “You move around back and make sure that no one gets out that way. I’ll go through the front.”

  Mitchell nodded and vanished into the gloom.

  Gravedigger swung open the door, slowly creeping inside. It was quiet inside, save for the ticking of the large grandfather clock in the hall. She resisted the urge to call out Goldstein’s name, fearful that the old man might not be alone.

  She found herself in the study soon enough, having noted that everything appeared to still be in place. If there was theft involved in this, whatever had been taken wasn’t immediately evident.

  Catching sight of Goldstein’s feet, she dropped her weapon and sprinted to his side. He was sitting on the floor, his head tilted downward and his back against the bottom of the window. His face was a dripping mess and Charity fought against the revulsion that suddenly washed over her.

  Checking for a pulse, Charity noticed something peculiar. His ruby ring, which had always shined so brightly, was missing.

  “How is he?” Mitchell asked. The big man had entered the building and made his own way to the study. When Charity shook her head, he turned away and sighed. “Bloody old fool,” he said at last. “I told him that he should always carry a gun but he’d say to me, ‘I’m a former Gravedigger, my boy – the day I can’t take care of myself is the day I need to die.’ I guess he had to be right, didn’t he?”

  Charity stood up. “His ring is gone.”

  Mitchell grunted. “Mr. Goldstein told me that it was very old, dating back at least to the Middle Ages. He took it from a black magician in Germany during The Great War.”

  “Looks like it was the only thing taken so I think whoever did this came here just for that.”

  “Do you think it was Meeks?” Mitchell asked. He’d listened to Charity’s description of the villain’s home and remembered how dangerous Goldstein had considered him.

  “If it is, then I feel even more terrible. I should have listened to Josef and gone off to kill this guy!”

  “You never know how things will go,” Mitchell counseled. “I’ll be right back.” The big man left the room and returned with a sheet. He spread it out on the floor and then lifted Goldstein’s corpse, setting it in the center of the sheet.

  “We shouldn’t move him,” Charity pointed out.

  “Why not?”

  “The police….”

  Mitchell looked up at her and smiled, despite the grimness of the situation. “You really think we should call the cops in on this? I imagine they’d ask a few questions about Mr. Goldstein’s past… and mine. Not to mention yours. Then you have all the weapons and weird books that are lying around here. Trust me,” he added, beginning to wrap his employer’s body. “This is what Mr. Goldstein would have wanted.”

  “What are you going to do with him?”

  “I’m going to put him in the car and then I’m going to drive out to the cemetery. I’ll bury him in your grave.”

  Charity nodded. It made sense, though it still seemed wrong not to have a ceremony of some kind for Goldstein. Yes, he’d been annoying, and she couldn’t forget that he had shot her and buried her in a coffin – but at his core, he’d been a good man. “I’ll come with you.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’m a Gravedigger, right?”

  “Yeah, I guess you are.” Mitchell stood up, lifting the corpse over his shoulder. Charity noticed that the sheet was already beginning to stain with blood. “Listen, luv, I’ll make the same offer to you that I did old Goldstein: I’ll work for you and with you, doing the best that I can to assist. But I can’t be the man that he was. I don’t have his knowledge or his skills.”

  “That makes two of us.” Charity put a hand on Mitchell’s arm. “I appreciate that. I’m going to need all the help I can get.”

  “The house is bought and paid for. Goldstein also told me all the pertinent information about his bank accounts and I know that he put your name on them, as well.”

  Charity couldn’t quite hide her surprise. She hadn’t even been sure how much Goldstein liked her, but apparently he’d been making preparations to leave his fortune in her name.

  “You’re going to do fine, luv,” Mitchell said, as if sensing her thoughts. “You and me, we’re going to make the next three years count.”

  “Why?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why did you work for him? Why are you offering to work for me? Were you ever a Gravedigger?”

  Mitchell shook his head. Up close, he was a handsome man, Charity realized. “No, can’t say that honor ever belonged to me. I met Mr. Goldstein in England. Like you, I didn’t have much growing up and I fell in with a bad crowd. One day, we were roughing up a shopkeeper, taking protection money… and then there he was: dressed up like a Halloween spook and swinging a blade like nobody’s business. That was one terrifying bloke! He killed my friends and then chased me down an alley. I turned to face him, half hoping that he did kill me. I was sick of living like that. To this day, I’m not sure what he saw in me but whatever it was, he held his killing stroke and told me that I could live, as long as I swore myself to his service.”

  Charity could tell from the emotion in his voice that Mitchell held a tremendous respect for Josef. It made her feel somewhat guilty for her treatment of the old man, though the memory of him shooting her brought up feelings of confusion.

  “Let’s go, Mitchell. We have a long night ahead of us – and in the morning, I think we should get st
arted finding out if Meeks is our murderer.”

  ***

  The Sovereign Museum of Natural History was a sprawling structure. It stood in the heart of the downtown area, and was comprised of twelve interconnected buildings. The Museum housed well over a million specimens, only a relative few of which were on active display. With a scientific staff of over a hundred, the Museum funded nearly four-dozen scientific expeditions each year, sending explorers out all over the globe. The Museum was divided up into numerous displays but the most popular was the ever-present Start of Sovereign Hall, where the origins of the city were examined. To access this, visitors had to stride through the huge entranceway, where they could stare up at a full-size model of a Blue Whale, which hung from the ceiling.

  Meeks stood directly under it, staring up at the model, which was built from papier-mâché, iron and basswood. It had been damaged about a year previous but the repairs were such that no one could spot the difference1.

  “I could get into a lot of trouble for this, Mr. Meeks.” The security guard said. He was a portly retired police officer named Dinkins. He stood off to the side, shifting his bulk uneasily.

  Meeks flashed a smug smile. “I paid you well, didn’t I? And if anybody causes any trouble, I’ll do the same to them. Money talks in Sovereign – am I right?”

  Dinkins laughed, his mood brightening. “Want me to show you where the exhibit hall is?”

  “I can find my way. I’ll see you on my way out.” Meeks waited until Dinkins returned to his desk in the security office. Then he set off down the hall, moving quickly towards his destination. He would, indeed, see Dinkins before he left. He planned to kill the man and pocket the money he’d given him – there couldn’t be any loose ends that would tie him to this crime. The worst possible scenario would be for the authorities to arrest him before he had a chance to summon the Old Ones.

  Meeks found the urn in a display on ancient Roman artifacts. It definitely didn’t look like an object of tremendous occult power. It was cracked in places but remained solid despite its age.

  Meeks started to reach out for it when a voice brought him up short.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Shocked, Meeks turned quickly and found himself staring into the lovely face of Kelly Emerson. Though many in the city thought of Kelly Emerson as merely “the curator’s daughter,” she was in fact much more. A graduate of Sovereign University, Kelly held doctorates in archaeology and anthropology. Standing nearly six feet tall and possessed of flowing red hair, she looked like a modern Amazon, with enough curves to unsettle even the most ardent of playboys. Her glittering green eyes and full lips had made her one of Sovereign City’s most sought-after figures.

  To the amusement of gossip columnists everywhere, however, Emerson’s heart belonged to local hero Lazarus Gray. Their love affair had titillated the city before Gray’s career had torn them apart. Rumor had it that neither had ever truly moved on.

  “Arthur Meeks,” Kelly said before he could respond. “I know you. You were here for the unveiling of the Scarab collection last month.” She strode towards him, her heels clicking on the floor. “Start talking before I call the police!”

  “Dinkins let me in….”

  “And he’s going to get fired,” Emerson replied. “Make it quick.”

  Meeks seethed internally. He’d planned to get away with only killing one unimportant security guard. Emerson, on the other hand, was a prominent figure in the city. Her father would rest at nothing until her murder was solved and the killer behind bars. Beyond that, Emerson’s death would bring Lazarus Gray and his Assistance Unlimited team onto the case.

  “I can explain,” he said, realizing that he had no choice. Within his mind, a wall was sliding into place, signaling a shift from the man he had been born to be – Arthur Meeks – and the man that he now believed himself to be – Thanatos. “I’m fascinated by Roman pottery and I wanted to get a better look at this urn. I was only planning to handle it for a few moments and then put it back.”

  “You’re lying,” she replied. “You could have made a sizeable donation to the Museum and my father would have let you look at it. You know that. You were here to steal it, weren’t you?”

  Thanatos sneered in response and lunged for her, his hands wrapping around Kelly’s throat. She staggered under the unexpected assault, her back slamming against the wall. As she fought for breath, the madness in her enemy’s eyes struck home.

  Thankfully for her, Lazarus Gray had insisted that she learn the art of self-defense. Refusing to give in to the terror that was beginning to mount, she struck back, boxing Thanatos’ ears. He cried out but refused to loosen his grip, forcing her to take more drastic measures – she drove her leg up into his crotch, causing his eyes to bulge.

  Blessed oxygen flooded her lungs as he backed away, hands over his privates. Knowing that her life was on the line, she took off for the exit, hoping to make it back to her office, where she could call for help.

  Thanatos saw her flight and knew that his plan was now at risk. He quickly grabbed a small goblet that was resting next to the urn and threw it. The metal object bounced off Kelly’s skull and she slumped to the ground with a pained sigh.

  Grabbing the urn, Thanatos was now torn. Should he flee with the object – or kill both her and Dinkins?

  His decision was made easier by the lights that suddenly began to come on throughout the museum. Thanatos heard Dinkins’ voice, high-pitched and nervous. “I haven’t seen her, Mr. Emerson… Are you sure she’s still in her office? I thought everyone had gone home.”

  The curator’s response echoed to Meeks’ ears. “Yes, I’m sure she’s here. There’s no need for you to turn on every light in the place! I know this building like the back of my hand!”

  Recognizing that Dinkins was trying to alert him to the curator’s presence, Thanatos ran from the room, following one of the public halls until he came to an emergency exit. He shoved the door open and hurried to his car. Tossing the urn into the backseat, he started the engine and took off, knowing that his plans were now potentially in ruins.

  “I only have one chance,” he said to himself. “I have to go into hiding! And Mr. Black’s going to have to speed up the timetable!”

  Chapter VI: On Wings of Black

  Max Davies stepped off the train, adjusting his hat as he did so. He cut a dapper figure, with his handsome face, olive complexion and slightly wavy hair. At thirty-seven years of age, he could easily pass for a man ten years younger.

  The son of a crusading newspaper magnate, Max’s fortune was ensured from an early age. His good looks combined with his wealth to make him Atlanta’s most eligible bachelor for a period, though he had recently given up that status in favor of marriage to the actress Evelyn Gould.

  Max flashed a winning smile to a couple of newspaper photo-jocks. They were eagerly taking his picture, shouting questions about what business had brought him back to Sovereign. He moved on without answering, knowing that the gossip columns would be buzzing with guesses of their own, no matter what he said.

  What they didn’t know was that Max Davies was more than just a philanthropist. He was also the masked vigilante known as The Peregrine, driven by visions sent from beyond the grave by his dead father. Using those oft-unpredictable bouts of precognition, The Peregrine had battled monsters both human and demon for well over a decade. During that time, he’d met many important people, some of whom became his close friends.

  Just two years prior, he’d visited Sovereign for the first time. The incident had led to a partnership with Assistance Unlimited. Since then, he and Lazarus Gray had maintained a steady contact.

  But it wasn’t Lazarus Gray who had brought him away from his new bride.

  This time, it was Josef Goldstein.

  Max had met Goldstein in Germany back in the early 1930s, before the rise of Hitler. Their mutual interest in justice united them and they became fast friends, calling upon each other periodicall
y when the occasion arouse.

  Unfortunately, that would never happen again.

  Stepping out to the street outside the train station, Max’s eyes scanned the rows of cabs waiting for their fares. When he caught sight of Mitchell standing next to Josef’s old car, he buttoned his overcoat and headed over, a sad smile on his face.

  “You look like marriage is treating you well enough,” Mitchell said, shaking Max’s hand.

  “It’s made a new man out of me.” Max slid into the backseat of the car when Mitchell opened the door for him. “I’m glad you called me.”

  “I’ve spent most of the day making those kinds of calls. Hasn’t been easy, mate, I’ll tell you that.”

  “I’m just glad I had business in this part of the country – the train ride only took a couple of hours.”

  Mitchell got behind the wheel and within seconds, the car was navigating the rain-slicked streets of Sovereign. “Charity is expecting you,” the Englishman said.

  Max stared out the window, his gaze sweeping all the way to the docks. He could see The Heart of Fortune anchored just offshore and he reminded himself to take Evelyn to the gambling vessel sometime. “She doesn’t mind me being here?”

  “She wants to find the man who killed Mr. Goldstein. She’s willing to take any help she can get.”

  Turning to look at the back of Mitchell’s head, Max asked, “Does she know the truth about me?”

  Mitchell smiled to himself. It never failed. Every masked vigilante in the world liked to believe that the mask was their true face, while the one they were born with was nothing more than a façade. Sometimes that was true enough but for the most part, it was nothing but a conceit.

  “I only told her that you were part of the network of informants that Mr. Goldstein sometimes called upon.”

  Max nodded, pleased with the response. He closed his eyes, calling up the memories of what he’d seen on the way over. The painful wave of visions had nearly caused him to double over in his railway car, their intensity so strong that it had shocked him.