The Peregrine Omnibus Volume One (28 page)

“I prefer you’d call me Ian… and I’ll pass now. Thanks.”

“Suit yourself.” The Peregrine closed the door and the room was once more dark and foreboding. “Why have you been seeking me? Answer quickly.”

Ian swallowed, sensing that his answer was somehow important.
Is he going to kill me or just destroy my videos and recordings? Or both?
“When I was a kid, you were my idol. I used to dream about you swooping in at the academy and bashing little Nigel Rushford’s head in. He was a bully… Even when I got older, I always remained a fan.” He pointed into the living room, where a
The Peregrine vs. the Six-Fingered Demoness
poster hung on the wall. “I always wondered why you became darker as the years progressed, adopting the whole branding thing and the special saying…”

“There was a part of me that wanted to really punish criminals,” the Peregrine murmured. “I never enjoyed doing it. Made me feel dirty… but it marked them for life. If I couldn’t kill the bastards, then at least I could make sure they never forgot that they were spared by the Peregrine. I’d prefer that people didn’t dwell on that part of my career… but for that I blame the bastards who fictionalized my adventures.” The Peregrine laughed softly. “Evelyn used to say it was cruel… but she never pushed the issue. She’d seen the horrors those people were capable of. If Benson hadn’t talked me into stopping the killing, I would have kept doing it. That’s the only way to really make the world safe—make sure the bad people can’t keep coming back. Not that death stops some of them, mind you.”

Ian thought he heard a hint of madness in his hero’s voice, but he ignored it. His heart was still pounding in his chest and he found himself eyeing the pistols that the Peregrine wore. Were they the famous ‘specially modified’ weapons that hardly ever ran out of bullets? He hoped so… “When I heard that you were active again, I started snooping around… discovered how you used to pass on some of your exploits to your friends for use in the novels and serials, like you were just saying.”

“And?”

“And I think people need to remember that there are heroes out there. People who do the dirty work that the cops wouldn’t dare touch. The whole world’s gone crazy and they need to know that there are men and women out there who’ve been fighting these kinds of horrors for years!”

The Peregrine grunted and then coughed. The cough became deeper and more frightening, wracking his entire body. Ian started to reach out to him, but stopped himself. The vigilante straightened up again, but there was something different about him now. Something more vulnerable. “I’m dying, Morris. But the world still needs a night watchman… and I don’t have time to sire another heir.” The Peregrine paused before speaking again. “I had a son and a daughter. Both did their time in the mask, Morris. Both ended up in a grave, along with every other friend I’ve ever had. That’s why I came back here… to where our honeymoon took place. Good memories… not that the visions didn’t come here, too. Ended up becoming the Peregrine again… will be the Peregrine until I die, I suppose. I used to blame my father for that. Stupid. It was bigger than him, bigger than me.” The Peregrine looked away, as if staring at something that only he could see. “Evelyn and my father are both waiting for me… on that mountain in Tibet. It’s been too long since I saw them.”

Ian hesitated, not sure where this was going. Hope began to flare in his heart. “You want to give me a last interview?”

The Peregrine’s laugh was cold as ice. “I’m giving you something better than that. It’s in your bedroom. Trust in the mask.” He moved past Ian, heading towards the door.

Ian’s hand shot out and gripped the Peregrine’s arm, but the vigilante whirled about, chopping at the unwanted touch. Ian cried out and yanked away.

Rubbing his injured hand, Ian said “Why did you do that? I was just going to ask you to stay!”

“I don’t like being touched.” He leaned close and Ian found himself unable to look away. The odd bird-like beak that adorned the man’s domino mask was inches from his nose and Ian flinched in the face of the vigilante’s gaze. “I’m about 43 minutes away from dying. I think you’re a damned idiot who has too much time on his hands, but the helmet thinks you have potential, so here we are. So get your ass into the bedroom and try it on.”

Ian didn’t make a move to stop him this time. The Peregrine disappeared with a dramatic flourish of his long coat, leaving Ian Morris standing in his kitchen feeling disconnected from reality. He looked about, noticing that the vigilante had helped himself to a plate of fish while he waited. Ian wondered at the Peregrine’s words… about dying in 43 minutes. How could he know the exact instant he would die…?

“The bedroom,” he whispered. He nearly ran to that area of the flat, flipping on the light switch as soon as he’d entered. There on the bed was a uniform of some kind, super lightweight body armor from the looks of it. It was purple and black, looking like a more modern version of the classic Peregrine attire. Resting next to the uniform was the helmet that the Peregrine had mentioned… a form-fitting device that bore a bird motif. Unlike the Peregrine’s mask, this one was a full face version. “Try it on, he said.” Ian moved over slowly, lifting the helmet in his hands. The eye lenses gleamed at him.

“Try it on.”

*Contact*

Ian rolled over onto his back, his breath coming in quick heaves. At his side, Fiona Grace lay with a contented smile on her face. They were both nude, the covers sticking to their sweating forms. Outside, the waves lapped up on the shores of a beach.

He turned his head to face hers and was rewarded with a stunning megawatt smile. “You are so gorgeous,” he whispered. “

Fiona rolled onto her side and placed her head on his arm. “I love you, too… It’s amazing how quickly we’ve become inseparable, isn’t it?”

Ian nodded. “Seems like just yesterday I was visiting the Nova Alliance for the first time, learning that I wasn’t the only one carrying on a legacy. You were dating that contractor… what was his name?”

“John.” Fiona sat up a bit, looking at him. Her eyes twinkled and her long blonde hair fell about her shoulders invitingly. “Are you going to stay in bed with me tonight?”

“Probably not,” he said. “You know I’ll be awake again in an hour… and lying here staring at the ceiling isn’t very exciting.”

“Okay.” She kissed him on the nose. “Go work out, then. I’ll be here when you get back.”

Before Ian could respond, a tremendous explosion rocked them both. The wall in front of their bed shattered inwards, showering them in dust and bits of stone.

The two moved quickly, each rolling out of bed and falling into battle mode. Fiona reached under the bed and drew a gleaming sword, one that was lined with mystic runes. Ian, meanwhile, made a lunge for a helmet which rested on the nightstand. A well aimed bullet knocked it out of his grip, however, and caused him to cry out. Ian glanced towards the sizeable hole that had appeared in their bedroom wall, his heart skipping a beat as he saw the figure standing there.

“No, no! Don’t want to go and hide that pretty face away, do we, sweet Peregrine? I mean, I went to all the trouble of watching your predecessor’s face go all blue and pulpy when he died… I’d hate to miss the chance to do the same with you!”

Ian stared up into the face of pure evil. Dark skinned and flame-eyed, the being known as Nyarlathotep was a horror to behold…

*End Contact—Future Probability 68.4%*

* * *

Ian yanked the helmet off his head, tossing it across the room. It landed in a crash, knocking over a pile of videotapes. “What the hell was
that
?!” he screamed. It had felt so real… the feel of that woman’s flesh against his all the way to the sense of mounting terror when that Suture thing had come to him…

“Nyarlathotep. How did I know his name? And what in the hell is the Nova Alliance?”

He sat down on the bed, waiting for his pulse to slow back down. The uniform seemed to beckon to him, like a new lover. He felt an urge to try it on… He knew it would fit him perfectly.

Forcing himself to be calm, Ian thought back to the things he’d seen. Fiona Grace… he was familiar with her, if only from the television. Descended from Eobard Grace, a man who had made the trip over to the World of Shadows again and again, Fiona was the most recognizable woman on Earth these days. It was from the World of Shadows that the power behind the Black Mass Barrier had come. Fiona had appeared on CNN numerous times, trying to explain how it had happened, how the so-called Wheel of Flesh had been turned just right, plunging Earth and the Shadows into some sort of merged situation. Some folks blamed Fiona for all the current problems that faced the world, but most recognized her for what she was: a flawed but heroic woman, one who struggled hard to save as many lives as possible.

On somewhat shaky legs, Ian retrieved the helmet. One way or another, it was the key to all this. The Peregrine had said it was the reason he’d come here… that it had led him to Ian. He stared into the lenses for a long moment, making his decision.

He was ready this time.

* * *

*Contact*

Ian Morris stared at a younger version of himself. The eight-year old Ian was seated on his bed back home, earphones turned up so loud that they vibrated from the noise. His walkman cd player was lying in his lap, blaring out the sounds of a Peregrine adventure entitled
The Return of Prof. Lycos
. It was one of his favorites and Ian still had a re-mastered version of it sitting in his car, even today.

Downstairs, his parents were fighting again. Ian remembered this day very well, for it was the day his father had walked out on them. Over twenty years later and he’d never come back…

“You’re weaker than I thought. This is how you react to emotional heartbreak? You lose yourself in fantasy.”

Ian turned to see the Peregrine standing behind him. The young version of Ian didn’t seem to notice either his older self or his masked hero. “What the hell’s going on here, Peregrine? Why am I seeing something from the past?”

“Because it’s one of your formative memories.” The Peregrine moved through the room, stopping now and again to pick up some piece of Ian’s past. “You’re the one who shapes the Looking Glass, not the other way around. Remember that.”

“The Looking Glass…?”

“The lenses of the Peregrine mask. They’re shards of a mystic orb. I took them from a bastard who was hypnotizing young women into lives of prostitution. “

“
The Case of the Stolen Maidenhead
. I remember that one… the mystic was an Oriental mastermind named Lu Chang.”

The Peregrine grunted. “Yes. I’ve had it in my possession since 1953, but it took years for it to really regain its power after it was shattered. It eventually led me to you.”

“For what? I don’t understand—”

“Listen, Morris. I’m dead. But I can’t leave the night undefended… According to the helmet, you’re the perfect candidate. Driven. Athletic. Tireless.”

“You want me to be the new Peregrine…” Ian whispered, feeling a surge go through him. How many times had he dreamed of this, as a kid? Of course, he’d never imagined it would be in a world filled with wizards and the undead, but none of that mattered in the end. He was talking to the Peregrine…!

“You don’t have to use that name, if you don’t want. I’m dead, remember? You can be something else for all I care. Something more suited to this god-forsaken age of MTV, cell phones and pixies.”

Ian shook his head in confusion. “Look, I work out, but I’m not ready to take on psychopaths and mob lords!”

“You have the basic tools. Everything else will come later.” The Peregrine gestured to Ian’s body, indicating the uniform that had appeared upon him. “The suit will enhance your natural abilities and the helmet will give you brief flashes of what your opponent is intending to do. It’ll help you avoid their attacks.” The Peregrine drew his guns so quickly that Ian barely had time to register the sudden move.

Ian jumped backwards, doing a handstand that twisted in midair. The bullets seemed to pass by in super slow-motion and Ian was able to land in a crouch before any of them struck the wall behind him. To his surprise, they blew huge holes in the plaster, but the younger Morris just kept listening to his compact disc.

Ian felt the helmet guiding him as he pointed his right hand at the Peregrine, who was rolling to his left, still firing. Ian fired several bullets from a device housed in his gauntlet, striking the Peregrine on the side. The Peregrine cried out, falling to the floor in a bloody heap.

Ian paused, blinking in horror and surprise. “Why are you acting like you’re hurt? You’re not even really here. It’s all some sort of… holodeck scenario, right?”

The Peregrine coughed—it was a wet, painful sound. “Bloody Star Trek. No one can go a day without comparing something to it. Rotted the collective mind of the planet.” He looked up, seeming to shimmer and grow dim. “My time’s up, Morris. Try to make something of yourself.”

“Wait!” Ian called, reaching out for the other man. It was no use, however, for the Peregrine was gone.

*End Contact*

The new Peregrine took to the streets over the next few weeks. He began with small excursions, breaking up some of the drug rings that he’d come into contact with during his research. Gradually, he became more confident and with that confidence came greater and greater risks.

Ian had scanned the papers for any sign of the Peregrine’s death, but there was never any mention of it—not that he truly expected there to be. He wasn’t sure how the original Peregrine could possibly still be alive anyway—he had to be over a hundred—but Ian had no doubt that the man who had visited him was the same one who had originated the Peregrine identity.

Out of respect for the elder hero, Ian had abandoned the film project, much to the chagrin of his financiers.

Finally, on the eve of the Black Mass Barrier’s anniversary, Ian decided to take a major step.

Moving stealthily through the darkened streets of London, Ian followed the woman of his dreams. She’d figured prominently in a number of visions that the helmet had shown him, with a 97.1% probability that she’d offer him membership in the Nova Alliance. He didn’t really care about that… but sharing her bed was definitely something that intrigued him. It had been a long, long time since he’d been with a woman in any capacity… there were few who could keep pace with his current schedule and even before the Barrier, he’d felt like a man adrift… seeking purpose. But now he had that in spades.