by Barry Reese
When the deed was done and Jimmy had passed out, the Peregrine stood up and activated his radio receiver. “Evelyn, you listening?”
His wife’s voice answered immediately. She was back at the house, watching over the couple’s two children. “I’m here, Max. Did you find out anything?”
“Yes. The Warlike Manchu is headed to Africa. I’m going straight to the airfield and warm up the plane. I’ve tweaked its engines so that it’s faster than just about any other airship in the world. With luck, I might beat them there.”
“Sounds good,” she replied. “I’ll meet you there.”
“No.” The Peregrine exited the building, frowning. “You just had a baby a little over two months ago. You’re not ready for this.”
“You thought I was ready enough to play bait for the Six-Fingered Demonness,” she reminded him.
“That’s different. That’s not the Warlike Manchu. Besides, he tried to kidnap little William once before… what if he decides he wants him and Emma? You need to stay here to protect them.”
“I’m already packed, Max. I don’t want you facing this man alone.”
“I won’t be alone. I’m flying to Bordia. I plan to send word to Sally that I’m coming.”
“Oh, yes… I’m really going to let you take off to face the most dangerous enemy you have, with that cute little angel as your only protection? No thank you.”
Max sighed, knowing she didn’t really think he’d do anything untoward with Sally, but he also knew that when she set her mind to something, it was damned near impossible to dissuade her. “Fine,” he relented. “But you’re going to follow my lead, understand?”
“Of course, darling. See you soon.”
Max couldn’t help but laugh as he slid behind the wheel of his car. He’d married one hell of a woman.
CHAPTER VI
African Nightmare
“Twelve men, women and children. All dead.”
Beneath the mask of the Revenant, Sally Pence felt a sense of growing revulsion. Knowing that it wouldn’t do to show such weakness before one of Bordia’s greatest warriors, she maintained a mask of stoicism. She was standing beside the Bordian warlord G’banna, looking at the strewn bodies of several dead tribe members. The sun in the sky was still shining bright, but it had begun its descent, meaning that night would be coming soon.
“When did you find them?” the Revenant asked, moving to examine the bodies. Each had tiny holes in the sides of their necks, and even without a forensic analysis it was clear that they’d been completely drained of blood.
“First thing this morning. Then I sent word for you. Last night several of our men said they saw a massive shape in the sky, like the moon itself was coming down to earth.”
Sally, who had just returned from an adventure outside of Bordia when the call had reached her, paused thoughtfully. In addition to this matter, there had been a transmission from Max, warning her about the Warlike Manchu… and a possible horde of vampire Nazis. “I think I may know what did this,” she said, standing up again. “I want your men to take these bodies and burn them. Quickly. Before night falls. Then all of you should huddle together, with any of your animals that you want to protect. Do not go outside at night until you have heard back from me. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Revenant, I understand.”
The Revenant turned and sprinted back into the jungle, moving with an animal grace. It had scarcely been three months since she had adopted her fallen father’s mantle as guardian of these people and already she felt she had earned their respect… but this threatened all of that. Twelve people had died on her watch, and more could follow.
Sally returned to her private lair, a cave whose natural formation had led it to resemble a human skull. It was her family’s ancestral home, dating back to when the first Revenant prowled Bordia’s jungles. As she approached, she immediately sensed that she was not alone. A quick scan of the grounds confirmed this. There were footprints of at least four men with heavy treads.
The Revenant drew the pistols she wore at her hips and moved closer, cautiously looking about. She froze, raising her weapons, as a man moved into view. He held up his hands, a smile frozen on his face. He wore a white suit, a yellow handkerchief tied about his neck. His beard was sparse, giving him a rat-like appearance.
“Esteban,” she murmured with distaste. “What are you doing here?”
The Spaniard pushed his hands into the pockets of his jacket as his companions joined him. They were two husky brutes with bulges in their coats, where their handguns rested. “I know you have no love lost for me,” Esteban began, “but seeing as how you have changed genders since last we met, I thought perhaps you would more willing to hear me out.”
Sally said nothing. Her father had clashed with Esteban more than once and believed the man to be behind a thriving slavery ring. Unfortunately, the previous Revenant had never been able to prove anything.
Esteban took her silence as a cue to continue. “Late last night or early this morning I received a threat. A note pinned to my front door, along with the dead body of one of my bodyguards. His throat had been ripped out. It was quite a nasty way of waking up for me. My delicate sensibilities are still strained.”
“What did the note say?” the Revenant asked, thinking back to what Max’s message had said: They’re coming to Bordia looking for a local collector. They think he has an occult artifact called the Rod of Aaron.
Esteban waved away a swarm of gnats that had descended upon him. “These brutes want something from my private collections. An old stick of some historical interest, but little else.”
“Then why not just give it to them? If it’s not important, why risk dying over it?”
Esteban’s lips curled in a smug grin. “Because it’s mine. I shouldn’t have to give up my property just because I’m being threatened—that’s nothing more than thievery. And you’re the local hero, so you have to do something about it.”
“I don’t think I’m bound to help you,” Revenant responded. “Especially not since you’re so crooked you can’t walk straight.”
Esteban shrugged. “Perhaps… but there are rumors that this object of mine possesses mystical powers. I don’t believe it myself. I’ve never gotten it to do anything unusual. But just in case it does, surely you don’t want a vampire to have it.” Esteban chuckled. “Can’t believe I said that out loud, but it’s true enough. My man was killed by a group of vampires. And you need to stop them.”
Sally was about to say something in response when something whistled through the air. Both of Esteban’s bodyguards went down, clutching at their necks, and Revenant spotted tiny blow darts protruding from their skin. She sprang forward, knocking Esteban to his back. A blow dart flew right past the spot where he’d been standing.
“Stay down,” she insisted, moving back to her knees and focusing her guns on the direction from which the darts had come. To her surprise, a man was standing there, right out in the open. He was tall and thin, with a long Manchu-style moustache. His Oriental robes, emblazoned with a dragon, looked oddly out of place in the African jungles.
“Greetings,” the stranger said with a slight accent. He was speaking in the local native tongue. “I had heard that the Revenant legacy was now borne by a woman. A pity. It is not a proper avenue for a lovely female. You should be a wife and a mother, not hiding yourself behind a mask.”
“Thanks for the career advice,” the Revenant deadpanned.
Esteban scrambled back, eyes wide with fear. He’d never learned the natives’ language, but he recognized the man before him. In English, he stammered, “You stupid girl… don’t you know who that is? That’s the Warlike Manchu! Shoot him!”
The Warlike Manchu laughed and shifted his own words into the same language. “Do you really think I would be standing here if I feared those bullets?”
Sally had already thought of that, but that didn’t stop her from firing her guns regardless. The bullets ripped through the Warl
ike Manchu’s body, sending splatters of blood onto the trees behind him. He staggered back but remained standing. He held up his left hand and whispered a series of words in Mandarin. The wounds on his body began to fade and the bullets which remained lodged within him suddenly reappeared, popping out with squishing sounds.
Esteban screamed and began running, but Revenant reached out and grabbed him by the collar, yanking him to the ground. “You’re safer with me,” she warned, her eyes never wavering from the Manchu, who was slowly approaching her.
“Once upon a time, I viewed such magical theatrics as the playthings of the weak,” the villain stated, talking to her as if nothing strange had just occurred—as if he were used to people opening fire upon him. “But in recent years, I have been forced to master the supernatural, and there are times such as these when they are almost required.”
“Why are you working with vampires?” Sally asked, keeping Esteban behind her. “That seems beneath you.”
“I quite agree, but war makes for strange bedfellows. Now, please step away from Mr. Esteban… I would like to question him.”
“No.”
The Warlike Manchu sighed, though the glint in his eyes indicated that he was actually pleased to be faced with resistance. “Then I shall have to mar your face, pretty flower.”
With stunning speed, the Asian master criminal rushed forward. He backhanded Revenant so hard that she flew backwards and landed in the dirt. He was upon her before she could recover, throttling her by the neck.
During this, Esteban stood up and began backing away into the jungle. He bumped into something hard and unyielding, making him stop in growing fear. He turned to face a tall man in the uniform of the SS.
“Greetings, Herr Esteban. I am Baron Gustav.” The man identifying himself opened his mouth to reveal the elongated teeth of the vampire.
“No… you can’t be here. It’s daylight…”
Gustav gripped the terrified man by the shoulders. “I’m old enough to know a few tricks. Now come… you and I have business to discuss.”
As Esteban was led away against his will, Sally Pence was fighting for her life. Already her vision was beginning to dim, and only the looming face of the Warlike Manchu could be seen. With tremendous effort, Revenant shifted her body so that she could kick up both feet, locking them around the Manchu’s neck. She twisted, knocking him off her body, and moved to sit atop him. She raised the butt of her pistol and slammed it down hard into his face, shattering his nose.
The Warlike Manchu uttered a curse under his breath. The woman fought like a she-cat, and not for the first time he recognized that perhaps he had been too hard on his own daughter. He had thought her unfit for carrying on his life’s work, but again and again he had met women who were just as deadly any male.
The Revenant sensed a possible victory and tried to keep from getting overconfident. It was too late, however. In her haste to finish off the Manchu before he could recover, she failed to notice the villain withdraw a small dagger from inside his robes. He stabbed upwards, catching her between two of her ribs. The attack caused her to scream in shock and pain, allowing the Warlike Manchu to dislodge her from atop him. He stood up, ignoring the blood streaming down his chin.
“You have wounded me, woman. I will not forgive that.” The Warlike Manchu brandished his weapon and made to plunge it deep into Sally’s heart, but the sudden whirr of a plane’s engines made him pause and look to the sky. A familiar black airship passed above and the Manchu uttered a short bark of laughter. “Oh, enemy… you never cease to amaze me. How did you find us so quickly?”
The villain looked back at Revenant and sighed. He bent down and wiped his blade clean on her dark uniform. “I will spare you,” the Warlike Manchu said through clenched teeth, “so that you might tell the Peregrine that I have been reborn, should he not already know that fact. And tell him this: I will kill him this time.”
Without another word, the Manchu moved away, leaving Sally Pence to bleed in the dirt.
CHAPTER VII
The Rod of Aaron
Gustav found himself mildly impressed by Esteban’s collection. His home was situated atop a high mountain and slave workers toiled on the grounds, ensuring that the collector lived in as much as luxury as possible. The interior walls were lined with expensive paintings, ivory carvings, and photographs depicting Esteban shaking hands with various dignitaries.
But best of all, the Rod of Aaron lay atop the desk in his Esteban’s study, looking for all the world like nothing more than an ordinary walking stick, with a Hebrew word inscribed upon it.
Gustav stared at it for a long moment before approaching it. In the front room, Esteban was begging for his life while the Warlike Manchu ignored him. It was still several hours before nightfall and the rest of the VSS were slumbering; only Gustav was old enough and powerful enough to resist the sun’s effects. It was a skill that few vampires ever mastered and it was very tiring, but Gustav didn’t trust the Manchu enough to let him be alone during the day.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the Manchu said.
Gustav hid his surprise—he hadn’t heard the Asian man approach at all. The vampire glanced over his shoulder to see the Manchu standing in the doorway to the study, watching him. “Where is Esteban?”
“Sleeping. I grew tired of his prattling.”
Gustav nodded. “You think the Rod will reject me because I’m a vampire?”
“I’m not certain, but it seems very likely. You should allow me to handle it.”
“So you can turn the weapon against me? I think not.”
“There would be benefit to me doing that,” the Manchu responded. “Your men still hold the key to holding my hungers in check. Without regular treatments, I will fade back into my inert state, and I doubt they would aid me if I harmed you.”
“You might try to take me hostage and force them to turn over the key to your survival.”
The Warlike Manchu smiled then and he offered a brief shrug. “Then by all means… touch the Rod.”
The baron hesitated for only a moment before he reached out and grasped the staff. He braced himself for a burst of pain, but none came. Instead, he felt a rush of pure power, as if he were suddenly two feet taller and much stronger. His eyes blazed with white light and he turned the now-glowing orbs back upon the Warlike Manchu. “You did well. You brought us to the object I’ll need to wrest control of the Reich from Hitler.”
The Warlike Manchu straightened, wondering if Gustav was now preparing to end their relationship… with prejudice. It was an eventuality that the Manchu had tried to prepare for, but had yet to find a way of exploiting the vampire’s weaknesses. “Obviously,” he began, “I could be of great use when it came to organizing your power base.”
“Why, Manchu, are you actually begging for your life?”
The Warlike Manchu narrowed his eyes and his voice took on a sharp tone. “Kill me if you wish. Death holds no terror for me… if anything, my deaths have confirmed for me that I am more special than other men. I shall return and will continue breathing long after your name has been forgotten.”
Gustav laughed coldly. His eyes glowed even brighter and the Rod began to emit a humming sound. The Warlike Manchu held his ground, refusing to back down, but when strange scuttling sounds reached his ears he was compelled to glance about the room. Insects of all sizes and types were emerging from cracks in the floors and the walls, through windows…
They all crowded around the two men, stopping less than a foot away. They seemed to remain where they were, as if awaiting orders.
“It works,” the vampire declared. “I can summon plagues of insects. The other stories must be true as well.” Gustav slid the Rod under his belt, letting it hang next to his hip. The insects began to retreat, having been dismissed by their master. “We should leave this place. Return to Germany and continue our work.”
The Warlike Manchu relaxed, realizing that he had narrowly escaped with his life. “W
hat of Esteban?”
“I’ll drink from him and leave his corpse behind.”
“The Peregrine is here.”
Those words from the Warlike Manchu stopped Gustav in his tracks. “How do you know?”
“I saw his plane before we left the skull cave.”
“And you didn’t bother saying anything to me until now?” Gustav’s hand drifted back to the Rod of Aaron. “You’re beginning to make me wonder about your loyalties.”
The Warlike Manchu shrugged his shoulders. “I thought perhaps you would not mind the opportunity to encounter him… especially if his wife might be present.”
Gustav had to fight down the urge to lose his temper. “And what does that mean?”
“You just seemed very much taken with her when I showed you her photograph.”
“Don’t play games with me,” Gustav warned. “I have the Rod. I could easily let you turn back into a statue and be done with you.”
Gustav moved towards the front room, where Esteban’s unconscious body lay on the floor. He was furious, not just at the Manchu but also at himself. He should have known that his reaction to Evelyn’s photo would be noted by the criminal.
Still, Gustav mused, if she was here, then perhaps things could take a turn for the better.
As he began to savagely feed on the slumbering Esteban, Gustav began to make plans.
CHAPTER VIII
A Plague of Enemies
Sally woke up with a start, sitting up quickly. Evelyn was at her bedside and the older woman gave her a comforting smile, reaching out to pat her wrist. “It’s okay, Sally. You’re at home.”
Sally glanced down to see that the bottom of her shirt had been tied into a knot, allowing most of her midsection to be exposed. Her wound from earlier had been bandaged. “I screwed up… again,” Sally said with a shake of her head. “You can’t imagine how tired I’m getting of having Max come in and save me.”