The Peregrine Omnibus Volume One (54 page)

After blinking a few times to wet the lenses, the Peregrine looked back down at Floyd and his companion. They were obviously arguing about something, but in the end the stranger passed several bills to the criminal, who pocketed them with a smile.

The men began to move together towards a roadster parked down the street. A driver was waiting for them and he opened the rear door to allow entrance to Floyd and his companion. Max couldn’t help but wonder what was up—Floyd was a small-time hood and this fellow was obviously well-to-do. The stranger wore a well-tailored black suit and had wavy brown hair cut in the most cutting-edge fashion. The Peregrine reached into another pocket and retrieved a small transmitting device. “Are you in position, honey?” he asked.

Evelyn’s voice came in as clearly as if she’d been standing at her husband’s side. “I’ve got the car revved up and ready to go. Want me to follow them?”

“Wait for me.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “Doesn’t look like they’re in a hurry anyway. You recognize this guy, right?”

The Peregrine was already descending the fire escape located on the side of the theatre. He ignored the startled glances of passerby as he sprinted across the street and jumped into the passenger side of his car. “Should I?”

“That’s Adam Wood,” Evelyn said as they pulled out into traffic, staying several car lengths behind the one bearing away Floyd. Max admired Evelyn’s long, lean form as she glanced his way. You’re such a wolf,” she teased, reading his thoughts. She adjusted her slacks and blouse, looking very fit for a woman who just gave birth a little over a year ago.

“And Adam Wood is…?”

“He’s Atlanta’s most eligible bachelor, at least since I removed you from that posting.”

“What makes him so eligible?”

“He’s handsome, rich and very mysterious.”

“I’m glad you’ve taken such note of eligible bachelors around town,” he laughed.

“They say he made his money in the Amazon. Went on some sort of rich boy hunting expedition and came back loaded with ancient treasure.”

“How romantic. No wonder so many young women are taken with him.” Max watched as the vehicle carrying Floyd moved out of downtown, finally ending its route in the suburbs. The driver pulled into the garage of a very attractively maintained home, while Evelyn continued past, finally turning round the corner and stopping where they could still see their quarry. “Have you ever met him?” Max inquired.

“Not personally but Susan adores him.”

“Susan adores anything in pants.”

“You’re in a strange mood tonight,” Evelyn said with a huff.

“Sorry, love.” Max reached over and squeezed her hand before stepping out of the car. “Something weird’s going on with Floyd and I want to know what it is.”

Evelyn glanced at her watch. “Do you want me to wait for you? William needs to be put to bed.”

“Go on home. I’ll be back soon.”

“Don’t come home all shot up again. You bleed everywhere.”

“I love you, too.” The Peregrine moved through the darkness with ease, blending in to the shadows. A dog barked in the distance but otherwise it was a quiet night in suburbia. Max found it far preferable to how his evenings were usually spent—in pitched battle with men and women bent on one goal: his death.

The Peregrine reached his goal, peering in through the windows of the home that he knew must belong to Adam Wood. He spotted Floyd in the living room, drinking a glass of whiskey while Wood paced back and forth in front of a large statue. Max found himself quite taken with the piece which seemed to show a rather emaciated looking Academic frozen in movement, his face and eyes showing horror. Max had never seen anything like it.

Harsh words from Adam Wood made the Peregrine tear his eyes from the unusual statue.

“Damnit, Malone, I need to know if you can hunt this man down or not!”

“Cool it,” Floyd answered, taking another sip of whiskey. He sat down on Wood’s couch, making himself at home. “I told you… I’m not some hitman for hire but I know people. We’ll find him and take care of him. Guaranteed.”

“When?” Wood demanded to know.

“As soon as we find ‘im,” Malone answered tartly. “Look, pal, you ain’t got no idea where he is. Or even
who
he is.”

“It’s Kevin Atwill. I told you that.” Wood took out a handkerchief and dabbed at his forehead. “I just don’t understand
how
. He’s dead!”

“Then either you were wrong about him dyin’ or it’s somebody else,” Floyd responded. “Either way, it ain’t gonna be easy to find ‘im. But I’ll get on it straightaway.” Floyd glanced at the statue. “Weird lookin’ thing. I can’t get this modern art.”

Wood swallowed hard. “His name is Joseph Nelson. Or was, I should say.”

“Who’s name is that?” Floyd asked, confused.

“The statue.”

“Uh-huh.” Floyd rose, obviously thinking that his host was a bit insane. “I’ll be back in touch, pal. Don’t bother with the ride back—I could do with the walk.”

The Peregrine moved away from the window, waiting in the shadows for Floyd to pass by. When the hood did so, Max grabbed him by the collar and pulled him bodily into a narrow walkway between two nearby houses.

“What th—??” Floyd stammered.

Max snatched the villain up close, slipping a small capsule under his nose. Floyd swayed on his feet, falling prey to the effects of the knockout gas almost instantly. The last thing he saw was the Peregrine brining up a shining ring that seemed to sizzle in the air. “When the good is swallowed by the dark,” Max whispered, “There the Peregrine shall plant his mark…”

CHAPTER III

Waking the Devil

Kevin Atwill did not like mirrors. His home was completely free of them, along with any kind of reflective surface. It was quite a change from his existence of just a few years before. He’d always been a handsome man, the kind that women yearned for. He frequently came across as vain, even more so than his friend Adam Wood, with whom he frequently went shopping.

Atwill no longer considered himself beautiful, nor did anyone else who was unlucky enough to gaze upon his tattered and torn visage. He now avoided the well-tailored suits of his past, instead choosing to wear a long cloak and robes of the deepest red, the color of dried blood. His features were hidden beneath a ceramic mask shaped like his old face, with the barest hint of a serene smile permanently affixed.

A young woman dressed in Grecian-style clothing entered his room, keeping her eyes lowered at all times, as per his instructions. Her skin was a lovely shade of brown, reflective of her South American heritage. She knelt before him, disturbed by the coolness of the air and the ever-present darkness. “The package was delivered but there has been a problem.”

Atwill clenched the armrest of his chair. “What is it?” he whispered.

“Mr. Wood received the statue but he has yet to view the discs that were taped to its back. He left soon after it arrived and made contact with a man named Floyd Malone. We believe that Mr. Malone has been hired to locate whomever it was that sent the statue.”

“He must suspect it’s me. I’m not surprised… Adam was the smartest of them, in many ways. Vain and narcissistic but smart.” Atwill rose from his chair, standing close enough to the girl that he could stroke her hair as if she were a kitten. “He’ll give in to temptation, even though he can see easily enough what has happened to Joseph. He’ll have to look at the discs… all of them are far too greedy and curious to ever pass up a mystery.” Atwill paused, reflecting for a moment. “But just in case he proves more strong-willed than I suspect… I’ll take a group of my girls to Atlanta to make sure. It might be worthwhile to see Adam in person.”

“Do you want us to send a statue to Mervin Saunders?” the girl asked, not wanting to picture what Atwill would do to his old friend if he saw him personally.

Atwill smiled beneath his mask. Saunders was the last member of their original foursome. He was a weak-willed little twit but Atwill would have to punish him as harshly as he had all the others. “Yes. Find a victim and mail him off. I don’t want Adam warning him early. That would extend the length of the game far too much.”

The girl started to rise but Atwill gripped her shoulder and held her in place. “Did you look at the photos I gave you, Maria?”

“Yes,” she replied with trembling lips.

“And what did you think?”

“He’s very handsome… were they pictures of you?”

“Yes. The way that I was.” Atwill knelt by her side. “Do you want to see me now?”

Maria turned her head away from him. She’d heard about the face that lay beneath that mask and wanted no part of it. “I… I would do anything that you wanted me to.”

Atwill cupped her chin, squeezing it painfully hard as he spoke. “I could have had you once. You would have begged to taste my kisses.” He tossed her away and rose again, his robes rustling. “Those bastards stole everything from me! But I’ll show them… I’ll show the entire world!” he ranted. “After my friends are punished, I’m going to make myself king! No, an emperor! And no one will care what I look like under this mask—because I’ll kill them if they dare look repulsed!”

Maria bolted for the door, hurrying free before Atwill could take notice of her again. Like the other women who served in his compound, she did so out of fear and adoration, both in equal amounts. He was a living god but his wrath was frightening to behold.

Thankful to have escaped with her life, Maria set forth to carry out the next phase in her master’s plan of revenge.

CHAPTER IV

The Truth Unveiled

Adam Wood spent the next day in a state of near terror. He refused to leave the house but he also refused to go anywhere near the dead form of Joseph Nelson. He had been convinced from moment one that this was no mere sculpture—somehow, someway, it was his old friend, encased in some odd metallic substance.

Several years ago, Adam had come across a series of legends that had caught his fancy. He and his friends were spoiled men of leisure, not massively wealthy but with enough expendable cash to be able to pool their resources two to three times a year for shared vacations. These trips normally took the form of debauchery and skirt-chasing, but on this occasion, Adam had come up with a different idea: the quartet of friends would set off into the Amazon with a series of maps he’d paid a pretty penny for, in the hopes of striking it rich.

Mervin Saunders had been hesitant, concerned about the many dangers they might encounter. But Wood and Atwill had been persistent and even Joseph had agreed that it would make for a fun change of pace.

The four men had gone forth, laughing and drinking as much as actually hunting for treasure. But almost a week into the expedition, Atwill had begun to grow more serious about the search. He claimed that they were actually following the maps perfectly and that they were bound to be right on top of the alleged treasure.

Adam had teased his friend for getting so worked up—even though he’d paid an arm and a leg for these maps, he didn’t truly put much stock into them, especially not with the local legends about the area. It was, he had told his friends, a haunted region. From faraway lands two women had supposedly come to the Amazon, bearing with them the treasures. Some said they were the mythological Gorgons, perhaps the sisters of Medusa herself. More likely they were hideously deformed Greeks who sought refuge in the jungles. Regardless, it was said that they died in a set of subterranean caverns, their treasures left behind for anyone lucky enough to find them. But they had left behind a curse: anyone who broke the seals on their tombs to claim the treasure would be afflicted with demonic powers, including the ability to turn others to stone and enchant objects.

The four men had grown a bit contentious at this point. The length of their journey was close to its end but Atwill wanted to press on, as they were close to their goal. In the end, Adam had sided with his friend. There was something in Atwill’s passion that appealed to him, making him think it was possible that they might find riches after all.

The group pressed on, finally coming to a set of caves located near the mouth of a large river. Flies buzzed about its entrance and the scent of decaying flesh hung in the air as they approached. Once again, Mervin had tried to argue against pursuing this increasingly mad scheme but he was shot down by the other three men. Led by Atwill, they entered the caves, finding a series of bizarre paintings on the walls, many of them depicting horribly disfigured men and women apparently lording over natives.

But it was far into the cave that they came upon their most intriguing find. A sealed entrance into some greater expanse, multiple carvings of death’s heads on its surface.

Even now, Adam could hear the words they’d exchanged.

“This is it!” Atwill had exclaimed, kneeling before the tomb’s entrance. “Behind this is the treasure of the Gorgons!”

“It could be booby-trapped,” Saunders had whined, looking like he was about to bolt. He was holding one of the group’s torches in his hand and it was shaking so badly that Joseph had to reach out to steady it.

“How do we get in?” Adam had asked, looking about for a way past the barrier.

“I think this is the key,” Atwill said, catching their attention. He had located a small slit in the wall, a rectangular opening beyond which only darkness could be seen.

“What do you think it is?” Adam had said, kneeling beside his friend. “Is there a lock or something on the other side?”

“I can’t quite tell… wait… do you hear that?”

Adam leaned closer. “Don’t hear a thing.”

Joseph had leaned in then, looking excited. “I can’t believe this! We might actually come out of this with some serious cash! And just wait until the press hears about this cave! Some of these drawings on the walls look ancient!”

“Hush,” Atwill hissed. He leaned so close that his face almost disappeared against the slit in the wall. “Yes… I hear you,” he said, making his friends glance about uneasily. None of them heard anything other than the rustle of insects. “Anything!” Atwill said, smiling broadly. “We want to see the gold! We want to have the power!”

“He’s crazy,” Saunders blurted out. “I don’t hear anything! Who’s he talking to?”