The Adventures of Lazarus Gray (6 page)

"He’s gone," Lazarus Gray
answered, stepping into view. Eun was right behind him, the young
man looking troubled and more than a little angry. "We arrived a
few moments ago and Samantha filled us in as much as she could. You
ran into the doctor himself, I presume?"

"I did. He had the girl
with him, too. The one with the Phantom Eyes. I heard him talking
to her. She’s got some sort of monster in her head
and--"

"We know all about that,"
Eun said, smirking a bit. He always liked knowing more than Morgan
– it was a competition between the two. "Do you know where he’s
taken her?"

"No. I know he said he had
some kind of plans but that’s all I could hear before I blacked
out."

Lazarus turned away, having
already examined Morgan. He knew that the man was going to be
hurting and unsteady for a bit more but there wouldn’t be any
permanent damage. "I may have an idea where he’s gone," Gray
murmured and instantly his three aides grew quiet, giving him their
full attention. Gray reached out and picked up a small writing
tablet from a nearby table. The top sheet had been ripped away but
his keen eyes detected the imprint of pencil marks on the next
page. He used the pencil that had been sitting next to the tablet
to gently reveal what those imprints had been, rubbing the side of
the graphite over the writing. An address came into view and Gray’s
keen memory told him that 1935 Monk Avenue was an old warehouse,
abandoned when the owning company went belly-up a few years before
he’d arrived in Sovereign. There was also a time listed next to it,
one that was less than an hour away. "Eun, please take Morgan back
to base. He needs time to recover. Samantha, you’re to come with
me."

"Chief!" both Eun and
Morgan exclaimed in unison. The two men looked at one another and
it was Morgan who continued on. "Chief, I’ll be fine. And you can’t
go into a showdown with Pemberley with just Samantha! You need Eun
and I!"

Samantha crossed her arms
over her chest and glared at Morgan, obviously not liking his
implications. "Are you saying I’m dead weight?"

"No!" Morgan answered. "I
just mean… C’mon, Chief. You know we want to be in on this
one."

Gray looked at them with
steady eyes, the mismatched pair narrowing. His emerald eye seemed
to shine just as brightly as the brown one darkened. "I appreciate
your desire to help but you’re in no condition for a fight, nor can
you drive at the present. Eun will take you back and he’ll make
sure you stay there."

Eun nodded, his respect for
Gray overriding his own desire to argue. Morgan, too, slumped in
defeat.

"Don’t worry, boys,"
Samantha said with a triumphant grin. "I’ll give Pemberley a swift
kick in your honor."

Chapter V

The Man From Berlin

The German was dressed like
an undertaker and he leaned heavily on a walking stick that was
topped by a roaring lion’s head. His eyes were narrow slits that
radiated such anger that Pemberley was surprised they weren’t
smoking. Walther Lunt had once been a handsome man but a beaker of
acid thrown in his face had ruined his good looks. Now one half of
his face was twisted into a horrific visage that frightened even
the prostitutes who were paid to spend their nights in his
bed.

"I expected better
accommodations than this, Herr Pemberley," Lunt said with obvious
disdain. His eyes raked across the rat-infested warehouse. There
were boxes stacked here and there but for the most part the
cavernous facility was empty. The squeaks of its current
inhabitants sometimes filled the air, as if the rodents were
protesting the intrusion of the humans into their
domicile.

"We make do with what we
have," Pemberley said. His iron grip on Wilma’s arm never wavered.
"I brought her here so you could see first hand what I’ve done. And
you can tell your leader that I can do this for his army, if he
funds my research."

"I work
with
Hitler,
not
for
him."

Pemberley inclined his
head. They’d been over this before. "I apologize. But soon enough,
everyone will answer to him, won’t they?" Pemberley laughed. "I do
admire the man, not only for his ability to resurrect the
slumbering giant that is Germany but also for his private views on
race and science. I’ve heard much about his desires
to--"

"Enough." Lunt stepped
forward and removed Pemberley’s hand from Wilma’s arm. "I would
like to look at her myself."

"Be careful. The aquaas
recognizes me as its master but it may strike you."

"I do not think it will,"
Lunt responded. He was looking at Wilma’s eyes intently, ignoring
the revulsion that was marring her beauty. The girl was unable to
tear her gaze away from his ruined face.

Pemberley stood nearby, his
heart hammering in his chest as Wilma’s eyes began to glow. The
blue light seemed to shimmer before becoming an almost blinding
glare. Pemberley wanted to warn Lunt again about the danger but the
German would have simply ignored him again. The man had the air
about him of someone who considered all others to be inferior. He
was an occultist, one whose knowledge of the hidden worlds dwarfed
even Pemberley’s. The group he headed had no name, or at least it
was one that hadn’t been shared with Pemberley, but it was
pervasive, with members spread throughout the world.

"You’re quite potent,
aren’t you? And always so hungry." Lunt was speaking not to Wilma
but to the aquaas that lurked behind her eyes. He pushed her away
so hard that she tripped over her own feet and fell to the dusty
floor. She screamed as she landed in the pervasive rat droppings.
"You have more of these things? Or are you waiting for this one to
lay eggs so you can harvest them?"

Pemberley gestured to one
of the boxes nearby. "I’ve collected nearly ten of them. Three were
damaged when I got them and one of the aquaas died when my son
perished. But that stills five in addition to the one that Wilma is
carrying."

"May I see
them?"

"Of course." Pemberley
moved away from Lunt, grabbing the lid of the box. He yanked on it,
pulling it loose. "I’m hoping you’ll let me accompany you back to
Germany. Things are getting far too tense around here. A local
meddler sent some of his men to my house today. They’re on to me
again."

"You’re saying the police
know you’re back in Sovereign?"

"Not the police." Pemberley
tossed the box lid to the floor, where it landed and sent up a
cloud of polluted dust. "There’s a group in town called Assistance
Unlimited. They make a living out of sticking their noses where
they don’t belong. Their leader’s some mystery man named Lazarus
Gray."

Lunt gripped Pemberley hard
about the shoulders and spun him about. "What did you
say?"

"His name’s Lazarus Gray.
What’s wrong? Haven’t you heard of him before? The guy’s
famous!"

"Why would I keep up with
your local politics?" Lunt said with annoyance. He looked past
Pemberley into the box, where the rest of the alien creatures lay
in their immobile states. "Lazarus Gray," he repeated. "How long
has he been active in this city?"

"Less than two years. But
they’ve been busy ones. He’s responsible for the troubles that got
me banished from the city for awhile."

"Intriguing." Lunt smiled
then but it was cold and reptilian. "I’m impressed with you. You’ve
kept your word to the letter. You’ve successfully grafted one of
these creatures to a human being and kept them both alive. And you
have more to spare."

"Then I’ll get my
funding?"

"You’re going to be a very
important man in the days to come, Melvin." Lunt turned back to
Wilma, who was back on her feet now, her eyes downcast. She looked
broken and tired. "Did the aquaas make her like that? Or was she
always so weak-willed?"

"A little of both,"
Pemberley said.

The door to the warehouse
opened suddenly and two figures stepped in, pistols held in hand.
Pemberley growled, recognizing Lazarus Gray immediately. The
stoic-faced man was virtually impossible to forget, even if
Pemberley hadn’t possessed a mind like a steel trap. Lunt also
reacted with recognition, his eyes widening in shock.

Gray noted both men’s
reactions but it was the man with the scarred face who most
disturbed him. Not only did he seem strangely familiar but the
lion’s head on his walking stick looked eerily like the half-man’s
head on the back of Gray’s medallion.

Samantha noticed Gray’s
hesitation and stepped up. "Both of you need to back away from the
girl and put your hands up."

Lunt noticed that Pemberley
did so, though he was muttering under his breath. The German,
however, did something far more surprising. He slammed the butt of
his walking stick down hard on the floor and then tossed the stick
away from him, throwing it with all his might toward Samantha and
Lazarus.

Gray somehow sensed what
was about to occur. He shoved Samantha behind him and moved to
protect her. The stick seemed to shimmer in midair and when it
landed, it was not a piece of wood at all… it was a fully grown
African lion, its mouth open in a roar that shook the walls. The
beast’s jaws were slavering and it looked like it was half-starved
and mad with hunger.

"Chief, what the hell?"
Samantha whispered.

Lazarus raised his pistol
and fired as the creature rushed toward him. Two bullets sank deep
in the mighty beast’s chest but it continued on, leaping upon him.
His weight sent Gray to his back and only Gray’s tremendous
strength managed to hold the snapping jaws away from his face. Gray
let his gun drop so he’d have all his fingers free for the
herculean task.

Samantha was momentarily
taken aback but she quickly realized the deadly predicament her
employer was in. She took a step toward the lion and directed her
gun at the side of the beast’s head. It whirled toward her but this
only meant that her shot hit home directly between its eyes. The
lion let out a roar of surprised pain and fell forward onto Gray. A
lion’s dead weight would be enough to leave most men unable to
move, but Gray was wriggling free before Samantha even realized he
was doing it.

Pemberley slammed into the
girl, knocking her hard into the door. A cry of pain erupted from
her lips and Pemberley drove a fist into her pretty face, knocking
her out. Samantha was a wildcat in battle, with the ability to deal
with men three and four times her size… but when taken by surprise,
she was helpless as anyone else would be.

Gray saw Samantha fall and
though his face did not show it, a burning ember of rage flared
into an inferno in his heart. He gripped Pemberley by the collar
and drew him toward him. One powerful punch later and the vile
scientist was lying on the ground, blood and mucus streaming from
his shattered nose.

A cry of pain drew Gray’s
attention back to Lunt, who was holding a struggling Wilma by her
hair. The girl’s eyes were glowing blue, indicating that the aquaas
was feeling threatened.

"Seeing you here, like
this, is a revelation," Lunt said.

"Who are you? How do you
know me?" Gray’s voice was filled with emotion, which would have
shocked his employees. He normally kept a tight lid on his private
concerns but he was unable to do so now. This man before him might
know the truth about who he really was, or at least know how Gray
could find out more.

"You’re a hero to these
people, aren’t you?" Lunt said. "I wonder if any of them know how
much blood is on your hands? And the audacity of calling yourself
Lazarus Gray!" Lunt shook his head. "The others will think me mad
when I tell them that you’re alive… and that this is what you’ve
become."

"Please help me," Wilma
whined, straining her head so she could see Gray. "Please help me…
or kill me." Her eyes flashed brighter with every painful
word.

Lazarus realized that while
he desperately wanted answers, he had to free Wilma. That was his
first priority and everything else would have to take a backseat.
He reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a small dagger.
"Let her go."

"No." Lunt cackled and the
scarring on his face reddened, making it look like the veins
between were about to burst out into the light. "If you want the
bitch so badly, then take her!" Lunt yanked her back so her neck
was stretched taut. With his free hand, he pulled out a knife of
his own, one that gleamed in the warehouse lighting. "But if I were
you, Mr. Lazarus Gray, I would drop your weapon and step away from
the door. Otherwise, I’ll slit her throat from
ear-to-ear."

Gray was calculating the
odds of throwing his dagger and hitting the German. He was a crack
shot with both throwing knives and handguns but it was still an
awful risk. The girl had begged for her death but Gray wasn’t about
to take that route. He would protect her until his own dying
breath. She was an innocent victim in all of this, despite the
crimes of her father.

Before Gray could make his
move, Lunt began to cry out. The skin of his face and hands began
to wither, as if something was sucking the moisture right out of
him. He dropped his hold on Wilma but it was too late. The aquaas
had sensed the threat to its host and was now responding, using all
of its power to remove this dangerous creature. Lunt opened his
mouth and he tried to scream something at Lazarus but Gray couldn’t
make it out. The man’s mouth was too dry and his tongue was
beginning to break apart, turning to dust that ran down Lunt’s
chin. He fell to the floor, a horrible hitching sound coming from
his chest. He ended up posed just above the floor, looking like a
strange sculpture made of leather and bone.