by Barry Reese
“There’s a spell on this city,” Holmes explained. “If it sinks beneath the waves, the Great Old Ones must sleep. My calculations are that this bomb will cause a fracture in the city itself, driving it beneath the waves. At that point, Cthulhu and the others will enter their hibernation state once more.”
Holmes took the bomb from Jackdaw and set it down on the ground. He quickly armed it and a counter on the side began counting down, the seconds ticking by. Revenant saw it was set to go off in less than five minutes.
“We’ll never get far enough away—” she began, but Holmes took her by the hand and began rapidly moving towards the yacht.
“The most important thing is that these creatures don’t escape the island city. All of our lives are worth surrendering if we save the rest of the world from the fate that awaits them!”
The heroes found that their way back to the yacht was not unopposed. From the shadows emerged a plethora of bizarre and dangerous creatures. Had Holmes been alone, the great detective would have been overwhelmed, but with the Claws of the Peregrine at his side, he felt confident that they would reach their goal.
The Peregrine used the Knife of Elohim to great effect, and Revenant kept up a line of strafing fire on their enemies, allowing Stone and Vincent to concentrate on carrying the injured Catalyst and Esper.
The Claws team, along with Jackdaw, Stone, and Holmes, eventually ascended the ramp onto the moored yacht and quickly drew up anchor. The women on board said nothing, recognizing that their master was no longer among them. Some still felt loyalty to him, but it was obvious from looking at the likes of Vincent that none of them could stop these men and women from taking the vessel.
The yacht’s motor exploded to life as the Peregrine found his way into the control booth, and he quickly began aiming the ship away from R’leyh. He pushed the engine as hard as it would go, knowing that every second counted.
The rest of the team crowded around their fallen members and stared back at the island. Four massive figures could now be seen, Cthulhu largest amongst them. Each bore the same awful signs of being unfit for existence in this world—they were abominations, blights to the human senses.
“Everyone should look away,” Holmes said, though he himself continued to stare at the risen city of R’leyh. The bomb detonated, creating a massive mushroom cloud that sent the seas into a churning frenzy, and which illuminated the skyline, casting everything into hazy shades of orange and red. Holmes calculated how far they needed to be to avoid the full effects of the bomb and thought that they would be close, if not past, the outer limits of the bomb blast. Indeed, as a wave of hot wind finally assaulted them, knocking Revenant to the floor and even making Vincent stagger back, Holmes knew they were safe. He reached out and grabbed hold of the ship’s railing.
R’leyh was sinking back beneath the waves, carrying the corpses of both Doctor Satan and the Warlike Manchu with them.
“So it’s over?” Jackdaw asked, looking back at the cloud of smoke and fire that loomed over the water.
“For now,” Stone said. “At least until the next monster decides he wants to try and resurrect the Great Old Ones.”
Revenant knelt at Nathaniel’s side, reaching out to take his hand. “Nat… can you hear me?”
Catalyst nodded, looking deathly pale. “I’m going to be okay… and I think Rachel will be, too. It just… it hurt.”
“The understatement of century, I bet.” Sally laughed as Nathaniel grinned. She dropped his hand and stood up, facing the others. Even the Peregrine had joined them now. “We need to talk to the crew aboard the ship. Make sure they understand that the Manchu is dead. Once we’re back at the Aerie, we can sort out everything else. Professor, you’re welcome to join us, if you’d like.”
Stone smiled but shook his head. “I appreciate the offer, but I was here only to hunt down the killers of poor Captain Hazzard. Now that he’s been avenged, I have pressing affairs of my own to consider.”
“Well, you’ll always have a place with the team, if you change your mind.” Sally looked towards Holmes, who suddenly looked as ancient as he truly was. “Mr. Holmes, are you going to be okay?”
The detective pursed his lips and nodded thoughtfully. “I am, indeed. Today is an auspicious occasion, my friends. We have witnessed the demise of two of the world’s greatest criminals, and I was proud to be present at the birth of a new hero.”
At this, all eyes turned towards Jimmy, who had remained silent, hiding himself in the background.
The Peregrine placed a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “That offer that Sally made to Stone applies to you, too. We could help you learn more about that Mask of yours.”
Jackdaw considered it for a moment and then reached up, removing the covering from his face. Instantly, he was back in his Ten Fingers garments, looking sweaty and tired. “I just might take you up on that.”
Revenant noticed that Vincent was at her side. She leaned against him, grateful that he was willing to support her weight. “We did it, Vincent. We saved the world.”
“Are you surprised?”
“Not any more. It’s starting to seem like old hat, really.”
Vincent’s scarred face broke into a grin. “Looking for more excitement, are you?”
Revenant looked up at the stars in the sky and laughed merrily. “No, I don’t think my heart could take it. Want to see a movie when we get back?”
“I’d like that. What do you want to see?”
“Something light and funny. With no death in it all.”
“That can be arranged.”
“Good.” Sally turned and looked at him. “It’s a date.”
* * *
In the lost city of R’leyh, the Great Old Ones slumbered anew. Their time had not yet come, but it would… for they had all the time in the world to wait.
THE END
THE DEVIL’S SPEAR
An Adventure Starring the Peregrine
Written by Barry Reese
Prologue
January 8, 1946
His breathing was ragged, and there was a burning in his legs that threatened to overwhelm him. How had he come to this? he wondered. To achieve such incredible heights, only to be lain so low only a few years later… if it were the stuff of fiction, no one would have believed it.
The stocky man finally pulled himself over a large rock and stared down into a small valley. There was his ultimate goal: a place of such evil that no animals scurried by in its presence and no birds flew overhead. This was where the barriers between worlds were at their most thin. Here, a man could easily jump straight from reality, into the deepest recesses of hell.
As quickly as he could push his failing body, the German scrambled down the hill, approaching the foreboding structure with proper respect. It was built of black rock and seemed to absorb the moonlight, drawing it into itself where it was snuffed out completely. A large wall surrounded the inner buildings, and the man noted that the gate stood open, as if inviting him to stride in of his own free will.
He stopped just short of doing that.
As he peered into the gloom, he heard the crunch of soft earth beneath human footsteps. A figure slowly came into sight, wearing a dark suit and hat. The man who came to a stop just inside the gate held a walking stick in one hand, and though his features were mostly hidden by shadow, the German could tell that this new arrival was a dark-skinned fellow, though at this point, it was uncertain if he was truly a Negro.
The stocky man took a deep breath and then spoke in his native tongue. “Ich habe gekommene suchende Unterstützung.”
The black man laughed softly and responded to the invitation for assistance. His own German was perfectly flawless, much to the other man’s surprise. “You’ve come to the right place, mein Freund. In fact, I’ve been expecting you.”
The German nodded, accepting this very easily. This place was accursed, and the powers of those who called it home were legendary. “I am dying,” he said simply.
“And you’re too important to just die like any other man,” the Negro said with another chuckle. “Don’t take offense. I agree. People like you don’t come along every day.”
“Then you can help me?”
“Oh, yes,” the black man said, gesturing for the German to step through the gate. “I’m going to introduce you to someone who’s capable of not only curing you of your affliction, but who can help you gain what you’ve always deserved. Stand at his side, and you’re going to rule the world.”
“And what will be the price for this incredible offer?”
This brought a twinkle to the dark skinned man’s eyes. “You know the currency that’s used around here… all it will take is your soul.”
The German considered this and then took several steps forward, moving into the darkness-enshrouded structure. “A suitable price,” he agreed.
CHAPTER I
The Onyx Goddess
Peru
The sun shone through a deep notch located between two darkly-brooding mountain peaks, casting the mist-shrouded valley below in a ghostly half-light. As the Peregrine watched, a city seemed to materialize through the mist. A series of circular chalk-white buildings ringed a four-sided stepped pyramid and an adjacent acropolis.
“We’re here,” the Peregrine said to his companion. Max Davies was covered in sweat, his well-tailored suit plastered to his skin. He’d dispensed with his coat back at their plane, parked some thirty or forty miles back, but in hindsight he should have changed out of his slacks and white shirt into something more suitable for his surroundings. Still, wearing his mask and “work clothes” helped keep him in the right mindset: this was dangerous business, and the Peregrine flourished in those conditions.
The Peregrine’s best friend, police chief Will McKenzie, huffed and puffed his way up to Max’s side. Will was in excellent shape, but he’d barely been able to keep up with the Peregrine’s pace. Will was much younger than the forty-something vigilante, but you wouldn’t know it from the expressions on their faces. “That’s the lost city of Chancillo?”
The Peregrine heard his friend’s disappointment and grinned. “That’s it. A British explorer found the place in 1854 and barely got out with his life intact. He claimed he left his soul behind, though, and ended up drinking himself to death within three years.”
“Sounds like a scary place.”
“Aren’t they all?” the Peregrine said.
The rays of the sun were already touching the top of the Temple of the Onyx Goddess, which was the name given to the pyramid down below. The sunlight moved down the steps like rippling water, and it was said that when the light touched the bottom of the stairs, the location of the Onyx Goddess’s lair would be revealed to those brave enough to seek it out. The path could only be seen in the first few moments when sunlight first touched the site; after that, the secrets were lost again for decades. Four times a century the sun was in the exact right alignment for this, and Max couldn’t fathom waiting another twenty-five years for it come around again.
The Peregrine quickly began pushing through the rainforest undergrowth, using a machete to clear himself a path. “We’ve only got about fifteen minutes before the sunlight hits the proper spot. We need to hurry.”
Will stifled a groan and forced his aching legs onwards. He’d accompanied Max on this expedition as more of a lark than anything else. Things in Atlanta were relatively quiet for once, and both men had seen this as an opportunity to go on a new adventure. Will had pictured the two of them sneaking off to a beach somewhere to drink a few beers while staring at the setting sun. The wives would stay at home and get a respite from the boys, and in turn, the boys would ogle a few young girls at the seashore.
Unfortunately, Will’s best friend was a driven fellow by the name of Max Davies. Whereas most men were ordinary joes who enjoyed following sports, working around the house, and having a few drinks every now and again, Max was a different sort of beast. The child of a crusading philanthropist, Max had grown up with a social conscience. This had been hardened into something permanent after Max had watched his father being gunned down by criminals. Max had sworn to protect the innocent after that and, aided for years by uncontrollable visions of crimes that needed to be stopped, Max had done just that. He’d become the Peregrine, taking flight in pursuit of evil of all kinds. Just in the ten years or so since Will had first met him, the Peregrine had battled Oriental masterminds, dark cults, and even a few vampires and werewolves.
So it stood to reason that Max’s idea of a vacation was a trek through a Peruvian jungle.
As they hurried down the city’s main thoroughfare, delightfully named the Street of Punishment, Max thought about all the people who had once called this city home. They’d walked through these streets every day of their lives, some of them living long enough to see the sun’s revelations about the Onyx Goddess two or even three times. Some of them had died of natural means, but a goodly number would have been sacrificed to the cultists who ruled the city, who sought fresh blood to be fed to the so-called Onyx Goddess.
“There’s something up there,” Will said, gasping out the words.
The Peregrine slowed down to an almost-dead stop. Through the mist, he could see shapes moving up ahead. “They’re howler monkeys. I don’t think they’ll give us any trouble.”
As if on cue, a monkey dropped from the top of a nearby building, chattering noisily on the ground before them. It bared its fangs and took one hissing step towards Will, whose hand dropped to the gun he wore at his hip.
“Let me handle it,” the Peregrine said, sweeping his machete through the air before him. He stamped the ground as he did so, yelling, “Get!”
The monkey eyed him for a moment before its bravery began to waver. It took off at a fast clip, its squeals sending its brothers and sisters into a noisy frenzy.
“I could have done that,” Will muttered.
“You would have fired your gun and sent the rest of them into a killing frenzy.”
Will looked at him like he was insane. “A gunshot would have scared the rest of them away, Max. Monkeys are a little bit too smart to get themselves killed in the name of revenge.”
“They’re more like us than some people would like to believe,” Max responded. He looked back to the pyramid, kneeling as he did so. Following the path before him with his eyes, he tried to figure out which of the four doorways was the one the sunlight as angling towards. “The difficult thing about this is that we can’t wait for the sunlight to reach the bottom—by then the Onyx Goddess has been revealed and it’s too late. And the doorways change, meaning we can’t just follow through on someone else’s previous path.”
“Didn’t the British guy who came here before leave instructions?” Will watched as Max set down the pack that he’d been carrying, taking out a long length of rope and a high-powered flashlight.
“Yes. He did. We’re following them.” The Peregrine pointed to the doorways, saying “The sunlight’s tip seems to be heading to the doors on the left, which would leave the other two doors in shadow. Thus, the correct entrance has to be one of the illuminated ones.”
“But which one?”
“Call it a hunch, but I’m going for the one on the far left.”
“And if you’re wrong?”
“Then we got to see some nice jungle environments and we’ll head back home. If I’m right… I’m going to find the Onyx Goddess.” Max stood up and squeezed Will’s shoulder. “Wait for me here.”
“But…”
“If there are traps inside and I get hurt, I’m going to scream my head off. You have to rescue me. It won’t do any good for us both to get hurt in there.”
Will bit his tongue but shuffled his feet in annoyance. He watched as Max disappeared inside the stone door. The monkeys were beginning to emerge once more, watching the handsome lawman with intelligent eyes.
Inside the dark passage, the Peregrine moved forward in silence, grateful for the circular beam of ligh
t that illuminated the damp passageway. The floor slanted sharply downward and Max found himself brushing away cobwebs on a regular basis. The walls were unadorned by markings of any sort and the floor was composed of slickened, moss-covered blocks of stone.
The Peregrine moved forward cautiously until one of his feet slid across the stone. He fell flat on his back, the back of his skull coming down hard on the floor. His flashlight fell from his fingers, rolling down the slanting hallway until it disappeared out of sight. Down in the gloom, Max could hear the sound of water splashing, and he knew that his flashlight had reached the bottom.
Now surrounded by impenetrable darkness, the Peregrine struggled to his knees and slowly rose to his feet. His head throbbed horribly but he hadn’t lost consciousness, so perhaps he’d escaped a concussion.
Cursing his luck, the Peregrine continued forward, noting that not only did the hallway continue heading further and further beneath the pyramid but that it became progressively narrower. Eventually, he had dropped from a crouch into a crawl. By the time he began to see light up ahead, the passageway had begun to curve upwards again and Max was flat on his belly, pulling himself along by his hands.
His head eventually came out into a dimly lit chamber. As he slipped from the passageway, his feet came to rest in a pool of chilly blue water. The roof of the grotto was mostly hidden in shadows, but there was enough sunlight coming through to give him a little bit of visibility. He spotted his flashlight floating in the water, but without examining it, he could already see that its casing was cracked and the filament within was shattered.
Max stood still for a moment, soaking in exactly where he’d found himself. It was some sort of limestone sinkhole, forged ages ago. The pyramid had been built directly on top of it.
The Peregrine’s eyes fixed on several white bones that lay at the edge of the water. As he approached, he saw that they were distinctly human. One set of bones had belonged to a female, obviously someone of great importance from the jewelry that still clung to her skeletal wrists and ankles. The other set of bones of a man, around whose neck was an obsidian necklace adorned by a single red ruby.
