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
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.