The Adventures of Lazarus Gray (27 page)

"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."

"You sound like you admire
him," Mobius said.

Miya said nothing but there
was no denying the spark of emotion in her eyes.

Walther cleared his throat,
drawing all eyes back to him and his ruined face. "I wouldn’t have
couched it in those terms but I think Miya is correct. He is more
dangerous than before. I hope you took that into account when it
came to hiring an outsider to deal with him."

One of the faceless men
around the table leaned forward, his voice carrying an edge to it.
"The Illuminati has existed for centuries, Walther. We are capable
of dealing with one lone enemy, even if you yourself have failed
repeatedly to handle the situation."

Walther felt stung by the
rebuke but he managed to keep it from showing on his features. "Of
course. I meant no disrespect."

Mobius spoke loudly,
obviously tired of the back-and-forth regarding the issue. "Enter
please!"

A door opened and closed
behind Walther’s back and he turned to see who had entered the
room. The sight that greeted him was enough to freeze the ice in
his veins. Though at first glance the figure that moved toward him
appeared human, it didn’t take long to disprove that notion. The
figure had yellow-green skin and pointed ears. His head was
completely hairless but covered by a black skullcap while his mouth
was a leering parody of a man’s. The animal-like maw was filled
with razor-sharp teeth. The creature’s hands were held at its sides
and the fingertips ended in long blades that looked like they could
disembowel a man with ease. Walther had heard stories of such a
creature, a monster that ruled over a tiny island in the Pacific
named Ricca. It was said that he was known by many names but the
ones that were most common were "The God of Hate" and "The
Claw."