“And she destroyed the colony,” Max said, beginning to picture things in his head. “She attacked them with her Red Men and her psychic pain… pulled them all straight down into Hell with her. And when the soldiers were left behind between colonies, she did the same to them… and then the last of the colonies vanished, as well. They were all killed by her.” Max started to reach for the box. “So all we need to do is destroy the heart… If that’s where her spirit is housed, then that should remove her from this plane.”
Whisper stopped him by quickly placing a hand on his wrist. “No! Her spirit has become too powerful for that. All you’d do by attacking the heart is to anger her. After the failure of the last Croatoan colony, her spirit went dormant, it fell into a slumber. It was reawakened recently and she’s now lashing out at everyone around the heart.”
The Peregrine sighed, feeling his certainty slipping away. “Okay, then how do we end the threat?”
Whisper stood up, her clinging black dress outlining every curve. “The first thing you need to do is return to the site of her death. But don’t think that she’ll sit back and wait for you to do it—you and everyone with you will be at risk. Once you’re there, take her heart from the box and attempt to re-bury it. I think she’ll manifest then… and you will either need to slay her or convince her to leave.”
Max said nothing for a moment, still wrapped up in the mental image of a teenaged girl raped and murdered in the dirt. Elles must have uncovered her grave… or at the very least found her heart. When he’d disturbed it, it had reawakened an entity that perhaps wasn’t truly evil… but was quite dangerously mad. “The Red Men who disappeared after they fought McKenzie and I… they can’t be destroyed, can they? They just fade away and then return later?”
“Yes. They are powered by her will and nothing else. As long as her spirit still exists on this plane, her Indians can be sent to do her bidding.”
The Peregrine put his hat back on and moved towards the door. “Thanks, Whisper. I’ll take care of it.”
Whisper watched him go, sadness still etched on her face. “I’m sorry, Max,” she said under her breath. “No man should know his destiny. That’s a cruel trick that was played upon you…”
CHAPTER VIII
Murder at Sea
Max stood on the deck of the ferry, leading him across the choppy waters towards Roanoke Island. He’d flown to North Carolina but the harsh winds of an approaching storm had made it too dangerous to try and venture forth to the Island via the air. Landing on the mainland, it had been easy enough to find a ferry that shuttled people back and forth to the island.
He wore his normal Peregrine attire—long overcoat, gloves, tie and well-tailored suit, but his mask was in his pocket. There were only a small handful of people on the ferry with him, and all of them were congregated under the coverings so that they could avoid the raindrops that fell irregularly to the deck. Max had hoped to find a way of traveling that would allow him to remain by himself but it hadn’t worked out… now, he knew that everyone onboard was at risk from Elizabeth’s rage.
There were many thoughts running through Max’s head as he stared out at the approaching island. First and foremost were his hopes for a new child. For most of his life, he’d believed that he’d never have a family… that his drive for revenge over his father’s murder wouldn’t allow him that luxury. But meeting Evelyn had changed everything, shifting his entire paradigm to a new level. Since William had entered his life, he’d become nearly obsessed with the boy, wanting to give him all the happiness he felt had been stolen from his own childhood.
Behind those mostly happy thoughts, however, lurked fear about what was to come. Elizabeth Maddox had died in pain and anger, both of which had been so great that not only had she been driven insane but her fury had taken on an existence of its own. “And now I’m going to destroy her,” he whispered. He knew there was the possibility of reasoning with her spirit… but that seemed very faint. All that seemed left of Elizabeth was her anger. If there had been any sign of sweetness left, Max certainly hadn’t seen it.
The area he was headed to was now part of the Fort Raleigh National Historic Site, which had been established on April 5, 1941. Though Max had never been to the park before, he had read in an issue of
Life
about the outdoor symphonic drama
The Lost Colony
that had first been performed there in 1937 and repeated every summer since. “Too bad they don’t know the truth… of course that would make for a very depressing show, I suppose,” Max said to himself.
From somewhere behind him came a woman’s scream, followed by the war cry of an Indian. The Peregrine whirled about, his hand dipping down inside his coat to grasp at the Knife of Elohim.
Max cursed as he saw the three Red Men come into view. They were wielding their various weapons, slashing and stabbing at the tourists on the deck. The Peregrine rushed forward but one of the Indians spotted him and quickly sprang to engage him. The Indian swept his tomahawk through the air, slicing through Max’s tie. The undead warrior pressed his attack and the Peregrine found himself being forced back. He sprang up on the railing of the ship, which was slick with rain but Max’s natural agility allowed him to keep his footing.
The Peregrine kicked out with a foot, catching the flayed man under the chin and knocking his head back with a snap. As the Indian’s head came forward again, he found himself starring directly into the glowing yellow blade of the Peregrine’s knife. Max shoved it forward, embedding it deep in his opponent’s skull. As the Indian fell to the deck, his body already turning to vapor, the Peregrine realized that the remaining two warriors had thankfully turned away from the innocents. Many of the crew and passengers were injured but none looked seriously so and as the Peregrine watched, all of them began to seek safety from the crazed invaders.
The Peregrine waited until the two warriors were close enough and then he jumped from the railing, spreading his arms out to clothesline both of them. They tumbled back and the Peregrine immediately buried his blade to the hilt in one’s chest. The other rolled away and got to his feet, bloodied tomahawk in hand.
The Peregrine and the Indian moved in a slow circle around each other, both wielding their blades and taking the occasional swipe at the other. Max caught site of the ferry’s captain emerging from within, rifle in hand. It was then that the rain began to fall harder, as if the heavens above had thrown open their flood gates.
“I don’t know who the hell you two are,” the captain said, lumbering closer. He was a large man whose belly hung over his belt and he wore dirty jeans and a stained shirt. “But I’m going to shoot first and ask questions later!”
“I wouldn’t get involved if I were you,” Max warned, ducking under an attack from the undead Indian brave. The Red Man didn’t appear to care that there was someone approaching with a gun… his sole target remained the Peregrine.
“I became involved when all of you started fighting on my boat!” the captain bellowed. He raised his rifle and took aim at the Indian. Max lowered his shoulder and barreled into the brave, knocking him straight back towards the captain. When the shells tore through the Indian’s back, blood splattered all over the Peregrine’s torso… but it, too, turned to smoke and faded, just as the corpse did.
The captain lowered his weapon, staring in shock as the last of the Indians vanished. The rain was falling in buckets now and Max could hear that many of the travelers on the ferry were going into shock, screaming in confusion and fear.
“What the hell’s going on here?” the captain asked, staring at Max. Rain clung to the man’s nose running down so steadily that it almost looked like a single string of moisture hanging from the tip. Max could see the cold, clammy touch of terror reaching into the man’s soul.
“It’s going to be okay,” Max said and even though he no longer possessed the mental ability to force his sincerity into the man’s mind, the captain seemed to sense that Max wasn’t the threat he might have appeared to be.
Max looked back towards the island, running a gloved hand through his wet hair. “We’re almost there. And then it’s going to end, Elizabeth. For all time.”
As if in answer, the winds began to howl all around them. It sounded just like a woman’s wail of anguish.
CHAPTER IX
Hell Hath No Fury
The ground was slippery with mud as the Peregrine trudged through the woods. He held the box containing Elizabeth’s heart in his right hand. In his left, he bore a small lantern that helped guide him through the murk. He had passed the site of the yearly symphonic production a mile or so back and he could sense somehow that he was coming to the spot where Elizabeth had died, all those years ago. It didn’t take any mental powers to detect this: it was an almost palpable sense of dread and loss that seemed to grow thicker as Max approached.
As he moved through a closely grown clutch of trees, Max came to a clearing and saw firsthand why the area felt so foreboding. There, amid the grass, was the outline of a woman’s body, formed by an area where the grass was yellowed and dead.
The Peregrine stood there staring at it for a moment before taking a step into the clearing. As he did so, the wind began to pick up again and the rain began to fall in heavy drops that were almost painful against his skin. A fog rose up around his ankles, rising until it was to his knees… and then, from the mist, came the image of a young girl… she hovered in the air above the spot where she’d died, staring at him. She wore a tattered, bloodstained dress. Her long blonde hair was matted with blood, leaves and sticks wrapped up in the strands. Her face could have once been beautiful but it was marred now by bloated, cracked lips and a shattered nose. Her body was ethereal, glowing and slightly transparent, but there was not a doubt that she was real and was present, in as physical a form as she could now manifest.
“Hello, Elizabeth.” The Peregrine stood facing her in the rain, holding the box higher, as if offering it to her. “The people who did this to you are long dead. It’s time to stop the madness and get some rest.”
The wraith stared at him for a moment and then screamed, a wail of pure anguish that drove Max to his knees. It echoed throughout the island, waking those who slumbered and sending shivers through the spines of all those who heard it.
The Peregrine felt his head pounding so hard that it felt like it was going to split open but he forced himself to look up into Elizabeth’s face. She was moving towards him now, her face screwed up into an expression of pure rage. There was no reasoning with this… thing… that had once been a girl. There was no personality left to it, nothing but the anger she had felt towards the world for its treatment of her.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He backed away, dropping his lantern to the ground and drawing the Knife of Elohim. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed open the box’s lid, revealing Elizabeth’s beating heart. Max then raised the blade and drove it straight into the heart. Black, oil-colored blood, oozed from the wounds and Elizabeth screamed again, thrashing in the air. Her eyes widened in newfound horror and Max felt something inside him go cold—this creature had suffered so much; it seemed wrong to end it this way.
Elizabeth’s anger increased the winds, so much so that the Peregrine was picked up off the ground and flung against the trees. When he slammed against one of the thick trunks, he lost his hold on the box, which fell from his grasp and dumped the heart and the sand on the ground. Max held on to the Knife of Elohim, though, and slashed at the ethereal woman when she closed in on him, missing her by inches. Her touch was cold enough to freeze Max’s skin, its icy grip sinking all the way to his heart. She stared into his eyes, continuing to howl like a banshee and Max felt her pain, as sudden and deep as if it were his own. The brutality of the attack, the violations of her body and then the cold finality of death… but there was no peace in the afterlife, only more pain. A steady reminder of all that was taken from her. And then a sinister voice asking if she wanted revenge… and all for the cost of a single soul: her own. A deal, sealed in Hell, that had cost the lives of so many.
Elizabeth’s ghostly hands closed about Max’s throat and began to squeeze, cutting off his ability to breathe. As his vision swam, spots appearing before his eyes, Max remembered the mystic blade in his hand. It had been dipped in the blood of Christ, giving it immense power against those entities empowered by demonic forces. Now, as it dipped into the ghostly form of Elizabeth, that power came to the fore. Elizabeth gasped as the blade disrupted her form, causing pieces of her to fall away like fresh meat. To Max’s amazement, blood seemed to fall from the cuts, splattering to the grass like rain.
Elizabeth pulled away, her body ripped to shreds, and Max spotted the heart on the ground. This time, he drove the heel of his shoe against it, grinding it to a messy pulp. This final assault seemed to be too much for Elizabeth Maddox, whose final wail seemed to reach the heavens before stopping abruptly. Her form disappeared in a blinding flash of light and the rain ceased in that moment.
The Peregrine winced as pain swept through him. His back felt like it was bruised in a dozen or more places but nothing seemed broken, thankfully.
Max knelt beside the outline of Elizabeth’s body and reached out to touch where her face would have been. “It’s over, Miss Maddox. Rest.” He then retrieved the remains of the heart and dug out a small hole in the dirt. He buried the last of her physical remains and then moved away, returning to the ferry dock.
Left behind in the clearing, the earthen outline of Elizabeth Maddox began to fade, sinking into the earth. The first sprouts of new grass poked through the ground within moments and by the time park officials moved through the area the next day, there was no trace of the cursed spot.
Elizabeth Maddox was at peace.
THE END
THE RESURRECTION GAMBIT
An adventure starring the Peregrine
By Barry Reese
CHAPTER I
Return of the Demon