by Barry Reese
***
Samantha’s car was pulling into the garage located behind the Assistance Unlimited headquarters when Morgan’s alarm began going off in her purse. She quickly parked the car and yanked out the communications device, seeing a flashing number on the tiny device’s screen: "2." That meant that it was Morgan, since Lazarus was # 1, Samantha was # 3 and Eun was # 4. The address below the flashing number read ‘6196 Robeson Avenue," which indicated that Morgan was actually inside the building – and in some form of mortal danger!
Samantha was out of the car in a flash, a small handgun clutched tightly in her left hand. She moved around to a side door, one that was marked for deliveries. A small number pad was set into the wall next to the door and she quickly entered a private code that caused the door to open with a pop. She crept inside and moved stealthily through the darkness until she neared the front corridor. She jumped when she heard a gunshot, followed by the unmistakable sounds of Morgan engaging in physical combat.
Any lingering anger she felt toward her friend for his romantic pursuits was completely forgotten and she surged forward, whipping around the corner with her gun raised. What she saw was enough to stop her in her tracks for a moment. A large brute armed with an axe was towering over Morgan, who was bleeding from a deep gash in his right shoulder. Morgan’s pistol lay on the floor, covered in blood. Standing just out of harm’s way was a Negro wearing a top hat and a broad grin.
Samantha immediately knew that Morgan was too close to the man with the axe for her to get a clean shot off. She had to hope that Morgan could stay alive long enough for her to seize an opportunity. But the man in the hat… he was fair game.
Samantha dropped her gun into the purse she wore slung over one shoulder and rushed into the scene. Dinkins jerked his head to the side, eyes widening at the sight of her. Despite her dainty appearance, Samantha was as adept at the martial arts as any of her peers, if not more so. She drove one of her spiked heels into the side of the old man’s head, knocking him off balance. He tumbled to the floor, blood seeping from a nasty looking scratch. He uttered a string of curses at her in a Cajun dialect and Samantha had her suspicions confirmed: these two were related to the Axeman crimes.
Morgan spotted his friend and was almost so distracted that he forgot to duck under another swipe of The Axeman’s blade. "Samantha! Get out of here! Go get help!"
Samantha bristled at Morgan’s words. She knew that he respected her too much to treat her like some fragile flower but in recent months he’d become more protective of her, in direct correlation to his desire for a relationship with her. She drove a hard kick into Dinkins’ belly and he rolled onto his back, gasping for air.
Morgan, meanwhile, dove for his gun but it slid away from him and The Axeman caught him with a hard elbow to the back of the head. Morgan saw stars for a minute and his feet slipped in a puddle of his own blood. He landed awkwardly and The Axeman raised his blade high, intending to finish off his opponent with one further stroke.
It was then Samantha drove her shoulder hard into Muggsy’s back. She was light as a feather compared to the big man but the impact was enough to take his attention off of Morgan. He turned slowly, gazing down at Samantha with a tilted head, as if he were gazing at something wholly new and unexpected. Samantha was rubbing her shoulder, wondering if she’d broken something. She fumbled with her purse, intending to draw her pistol but The Axeman batted it away from her with a beefy paw.
"Samantha," Morgan whispered, trying to find the strength to rise again. He stared hard at the beautiful girl, knowing that his heart would break if he saw her seriously hurt. He threw himself at The Axeman’s feet, holding on tight to the man’s ankles. The Axeman roared in anger, trying to dislodge Morgan’s grip but failing. This gave Samantha the time to scurry after her purse. She pulled out her gun and whipped it around toward The Axeman.
Just as she was taking careful aim at the killer’s skull, a blue-tinged powder flew into her face. Samantha coughed but it was too late. The substance was in her eyes and throat. It burned and itched but more than anything, it brought a terrible drowsiness that not even Samantha’s incredible strength of will could resist. She looked through watery eyes at Dinkins, who was back on his feet, with another of powder clutched in one of his hands. Though she knew it might end up costing her life, Samantha slid into unconsciousness, falling heavily to the floor.
The Axeman, meanwhile, had managed to yank one of his legs free. He drove the heel of his boot into Morgan’s face, crushing his nose. Blood gushed from the wound and Muggsy slammed the butt of his axe handle down onto Morgan’s skull. He then walked around the prone man’s form, hefting his axe once more.
"Leave him be," Dinkins warned.
The Axeman looked up sharply, his eyes burning like coals beneath his mask.
Dinkins stared him down. "You think it’s coincidence that she showed up when she did? I bet he sent out an alarm of some kind. Might be one of those silent ones like they have in the fancier banks. That means Gray and his Korean man might be here any second and it’s going to bad enough if they find their friends like this. Let them see Morgan there with his head cut off and they might go into a frenzy."
The Axeman panted like a dog and shook his head, as if to say that he didn’t fear anyone or anything.
"I agree, mon ami. You could deal with them easy enough." Dinkins lowered his voice, soothing his ally. "But we need to go. No time to play, you hear? I don’t want to take no risks. It’s obvious now that this Gray fellow and his men aren’t the mercenaries I thought they were. They’re something else entirely and that makes them dangerous. So come with me now and we’ll find the door this little lady came in through. I promise you’ll get your fill of blood soon enough."
Muggsy looked at the carnage around him and finally relented, losing the tension in his body. Samantha looked gorgeous in repose but Morgan was a bloody mess.
When the villains were gone, the building fell quiet, save for the deep breathing of Samantha Grace and the quicker, shallower breaths of Morgan Watts.
***
Lazarus and Eun received the summons from Morgan as well. They were just leaving Ebenezer’s home when the signal came through and though they rushed back at far above the posted speed limit, they arrived too late to see The Axeman or Dinkins exiting the scene. They entered cautiously and came upon their fallen comrades within moments of arriving. Lazarus knelt to check on Morgan first, noting the large amount of blood surrounding the man. Of all his aides, it was Morgan who always seemed to get the worst of their adventures. The man had been shot multiple times, stabbed, nearly drowned and even set on fire in the past. Now it looked like another hospital visit lay in his future.
"Samantha’s okay but I can’t wake her up," Eun said, examining the girl with a practiced eye.
Gray stood and crossed to where the girl lay on the floor. "Go and summon Dr. Hancock at once. Morgan has lost a lot of blood." Eun hurriedly moved to follower his employer’s command. Doctor Hancock was on call 24/7 for the exclusive use of Assistance Unlimited. He was paid so handsomely that he had been able to abandon his traditional practice, despite having had the reputation for being one of the top practitioners in Sovereign.
Lazarus opened one of Samantha’s lids and noticed a small grain of blue powder in the corner of her eye. He carefully brushed it onto the tip of a finger and studied it with an attentive gaze. He’d seen something similar to this before, though it had been long before his life as Richard Winthrop had come to an end. During a trip to Africa, he and several other members of The Illuminati had found a witchdoctor who used this powder to induce a coma-like state in his enemies. The substance wore off after several hours but a large enough dose could prove fatal.
"He’s on his way," Eun said, stepping back in. "Should I apply pressure on Morgan’s wounds?"
"Yes. And I’m going to need you to wait here until Samantha wakes up. If Dr. Hancock wants to take Morgan to the hospital – and I’d wager that he will
– I still want you to remain with Samantha. Do you understand?"
"Of course. But where are you going to be?"
Lazarus stood and headed toward the door. "The person or persons who did this can’t be far ahead of me. The scene is too fresh. I’m going to try and catch up to them. I’ll be back."
***
Monique and her companion walked through the streets, which became more and more deserted as they continued. A soft drizzle was falling and there was a nip to the air but neither of those were the reasons for the dearth of people on the streets. They were nearing Robeson Avenue, which was completely owned by Lazarus Gray. He had bought up all the other buildings to ensure that no one moved in next to his Assistance Unlimited headquarters. As such, there were no cars driving up and down these roads nor were there shoppers or business people about.
Monique looked at the man who trudged along in silence at her side. He wore a rust-colored potato sack over his head, with two holes cut in ragged slits over his eyes. His beefy fingers opened and closed repeatedly, the muscles in his arm clenching in time. He looked like he was strangling some invisible creature hanging at his sides. The sack was a necessity since the process that turned men into Slashers left them a horror to look at. It twisted their features into something inhuman and awful.
"Stop," Monique said, raising a hand to prevent her companion from walking forward. They were standing at the end of the block, looking directly at the Assistance Unlimited front entrance. She had come here after an attempt at turning the tables on Dinkins. She was hoping to catch him by surprise. He wouldn’t expect her to become the hunter but now that she had her own Slasher, she thought it was time. She’d spilled the blood of a live chicken and then slit it open, yanking out the bones so that she could pick through its entrails and try to divine the movements of her enemy. She had been led here but there was no sign of Dinkins: he had obviously come and gone before Monique’s arrival.
The big man suddenly cried out in pain, falling forward on to his knees. Monique’s head whipped around to see Lazarus Gray standing over the big man, his right hand clenched into a fist. It boggled the mind to believe that the moderately built Gray could have felled the Slasher with one blow but that was apparently what had happened.
As if reading her mind, Lazarus said, "No matter how big your opponent is, he’s just as vulnerable to certain nerve attacks as anyone else." Gray stared at Monique, his mismatched eyes catching hers and holding them like a steel trap. "Identify yourself."
"Stammering, Monique forced out the words, "My name is Monique. I came here looking for help."
Gray didn’t seem to believe her lie. He raised a foot and drove it hard into the big man’s kidneys, drawing another grunt of pain. "And this brute? Is he The Axeman?"
Monique paused, her eyes widening. "No! We’re on the run from him! And from a man named Dinkins. They’re the ones killing all those people, not us!"
Lazarus searched her face, looking for signs of honesty. What he saw did little to set him at ease. She was young and beautiful but there was a savagery in her eyes that led him to suspect she was capable of doing horrible things.
"Is this man a Slasher?" he asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from her lips.
A slight widening of the eyes made it clear that Monique hadn’t expected him to be so knowledgeable. "Yes," she admitted after a moment, obviously having decided that it would do her no good to pretend otherwise. "I needed him to help protect me from Mr. Dinkins and his killer. They’re the ones you really want."
"And did this man ask to have this procedure done to him?"
Monique’s expression hardened. "He was not a nice man," she stated in a flat tone of voice. "I’ve given him purpose and strength."
"At the expense of a normal life." Gray quickly pulled a dagger from the interior lining of his coat. "I assume he’s under your control. Tell him to restrain from violence of any kind or else I’ll kill him. The same goes for you."
With surprising speed, Monique struck at Lazarus, raking his neck with the sharpened nails of her left hand. Gray threw himself away from her but she still managed to leave three crimson trails across his skin. Gray reached out and grabbed her wrist, applying enough pressure that she cried out in pain and sagged to her knees. The Slasher was beginning to rise but Gray raised a foot and drove it hard into a nerve cluster on the big man’s spine.
"Let’s try this again," Gray said, ignoring the rain that was now beginning to fall harder all around them. Because the city’s drainage was in constant need of repair, large puddles of water had a tendency to form and several were already well on their way to becoming small lakes. "You said that Dinkins is the real threat. But why is he after you?"
Monique gritted her teeth but finally succumbed to the pain and whimpered. "I stole his heart."
"He was in love with you?"
"I didn’t mean it like that. I cut his heart out. But he’s still alive."
Gray considered this and nodded. During his old life, he’d become quite familiar with the occult and had heard of such things. Some men sold their souls to demonic forces, allowing them to continue existing long after a normal man would have died. But there was a cost to all things….
"So all of the madness that’s been going on in this city… it’s because Dinkins is looking for you?"
Monique looked down, her eyes filling with tears. "Yes. Please help me. I can pay you… money, sex, whatever you want. But don’t let him catch me. The things he’ll do to me…."
Gray yanked her to her feet, his eyes looking cold and impassive. "I hate to tell you this, but there’s no way out for you. We’re going to lay a trap for Dinkins and his Axeman. And you’re going to be the bait."
Chapter IV
In Clawed Hands
Berlin, Germany
Walther Lunt strode through the marble corridors, ignoring the servants who offered pleasantries as he passed. The German was in a foul mood and he felt more than a bit uncertain about what was to come. He had recently returned from America, where he had discovered that his old associate Richard Winthrop still lived, now operating under a new identity as Lazarus Gray. Lunt had actually died during their reunion and his subsequent resurrection had not come without strings attached. He had to bathe no less than three times daily or else the foul odor of the grave seemed to rise from his pores. And though his sexual appetites had not waned, it was increasingly difficult for him to reach his peak, leading him to greater acts of depravity in the hopes of getting the pleasure he sought.
Lunt paused before two large white doors, knowing that on the other side waited the rest of The Illuminati’s inner circle. By now they would have read his report and would know that Gray was once more in possession of the knowledge about their organization. Would Gray renew the war against them that had led to his supposed death? Or would he wisely stay in Sovereign City and out of their way?
He rather doubted the answer would be the latter.
After reaching up and lightly scratching the ruined flesh on the right side of his face, Lunt pushed open the doors and walked inside, hoping to portray a sense of utter confidence. He saw that there were four men and two women seated at the central table, all dressed in dark robes with hoods drawn. To his surprise, however, Miya was there, standing just behind the chair occupied by Mobius, the group’s current chairman. The Japanese-American woman wore a skintight green dress that accentuated her Dragon Lady persona. She smiled at Lunt’s distress and barely stifled a laugh.
"Walther," Mobius said, gesturing toward the one open seat at the table. "Please join us. It’s been too long since we’ve all been together like this."
"I assume you’ve all seen my report," Walther said as he slid into his chair. "I’d like to point out that Miya made a strong attempt at seducing him but that it was an utter failure, prompting me to take drastic action."
Mobius smiled coolly. He was a gaunt man with a bald head and dark rings around his eyes. His teeth were yellow and
he smelled like a pack of old cigarettes. "Walther, you don’t have to explain yourself to us." Mobius said this in a tone of voice that suggested the very opposite was true. "Your description of events matches up very well with what Miya has said. While there were some of us who felt that it was a bit… unwise… to have sparked Winthrop’s memory regarding us, what’s done is done. Now we must make an appropriate response."
Walther glanced at Miya and saw that her expression had shifted slightly. Whatever Mobius was about to say was known to her already and she wasn’t in total agreement with it.
Mobius sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers in front of him. "Richard Winthrop was a tenacious enemy. He knew our inner workings and was quite ready to do whatever it took to disrupt our plans. Now that he’s reinvented himself as Lazarus Gray, I daresay he’s even more dangerous. Before, he operated alone. Now he has three quite capable aides and the backing of some important people. We need to strike quickly and decisively. That’s why I’ve contracted with someone that I think can bring our old enemy to his knees."
"We have assassins in our employ," Walther murmured but he knew immediately that Mobius had already discarded that notion.
"And they’ve failed against him in the past. Despite all our best efforts, Richard Winthrop is not dead."
"Actually," Miya said, momentarily ignoring the protocol that said guests held their tongues during Illuminati meetings, "I’d argue that point. Richard Winthrop is dead. Lazarus Gray has some of Richard’s character traits but he’s not quite the same as he used to be."
Mobius snorted derisively. "Nonsense. Changing one’s name doesn’t make them a different person."
"I knew Richard Winthrop," Miya argued. "And I think I know a little bit about Lazarus Gray. He’s stronger now, inside and out. It’s like the darkness we’d managed to put inside him has been burned away."