The Adventures of Gravedigger, Volume 2 Page 5

  “Why do you think you made a mistake?”

  “Because of the last part of the translation.” Kelly locked eyes with Charity and leaned forward. “It goes on to say: THE WOMAN WHO DIGS GRAVES SHALL BE HER OTHER. Not only does that not make any sense,” Kelly continued, “but it seems to be a direct reference to a female Gravedigger… and you’re the first one in history, right?”

  “No reason to think those runes couldn’t have been written yesterday,” Charity countered, though she was confident that Kelly was on to something big.

  Kelly stood up quickly, moving over to a locked cabinet in the corner of her office. She fished around for a set of keys in her pocket and opened the storage, pulling out a battered old book. She flipped through the pages and handed it over to Charity, who looked in surprise at the drawing on the yellowed paper. “That’s the Silver Skull, isn’t it? And you have it?”

  “What is this book?” Charity asked, looking at the spine but seeing no title.

  “It’s called The Daemonicus Bible and it was written sometime in the mid-1600s. Lazarus had it in his library of the occult but I begged it off of him. I’ve read it from cover to cover so many times I have this thing memorized.” Kelly tapped the drawing and continued, “This book says the Silver Skull was created by a Viking mystic and that he trapped something of great power within it.”

  “A demon,” Charity whispered, though she could see where Kelly was going with this.

  “No. According to those runes you showed me, it’s not a demon inside the Skull – it’s Pandora.”

  Charity handed the book over to Kelly, looking pensive. “The other side of the paper – it says Pandora Rising.”

  Kelly set the book down and turned the paper over. “Interesting. Looks like someone wanted to make sure you didn’t miss the point.”

  “But who? And if they already knew about the connection between Pandora and the Skull, why bring it to my attention at all?”

  “Now you’re asking questions that I’m not qualified to answer.” Kelly began packing up her books but she glanced over at Charity and asked, “Why don’t you ask Lazarus for some help? I’m sure he could—”

  “I don’t think so,” Charity answered, a bit more sharply than she’d intended. Seeing Kelly wince, she added, “Lazarus may be a good man. Hell, I’m sure he is. But he doesn’t approve of my methods. I don’t have time to pussyfoot around, though. Three years. That’s all I’ve got.”

  “I understand,” Kelly countered. “That’s why you really need to use all the resources available to you.”

  HIROSHI SAT WITH legs crossed, sipping his tea and picking at the turkey sandwich he’d ordered. He was seated outdoors at O’Henry’s, a small eatery located across the street from the Museum. Dressed in an expensive suit and long overcoat, he looked like a visiting diplomat from overseas and he played that role to the hilt, occasionally pretending to need help finding the right words in English as he spoke to the waitress.

  Finally, after what seemed to be an interminable wait, Charity reappeared, walking down the Museum’s front steps. She held a small envelope in her right hand and Hiroshi was positive that it contained the scrap of paper he’d sent her, along with whatever materials she’d just picked up.

  He stood up, dropped a few coins on the table, and tugged at the collar of his coat. He then crossed the street, waved a hand apologetically at a couple of drivers who loudly voiced their disapproval of his action.

  By the time he caught up with Charity, she was about to hail a taxi. He placed a hand into the pocket of his coat and yelled out, “Miss Grace! A moment of your time, please?”

  Charity turned to face him, suspicion and curiosity both showing in her features. “I’m sorry, do we know each other?”

  “Yes and no. You see, I am quite familiar with you but I’m afraid that this is the first time that you’ve met me.”

  Charity seemed more guarded now and he noticed that she was balling her left hand into a fist. “And what’s your name?” she asked.

  “Hiroshi Tamaki. And I thank you for doing such important work on my behalf.” With lightning speed, Hiroshi pulled a small pistol from his pocket. He shoved it hard against Charity’s stomach and pulled the trigger.

  The sound of the gunshot was partially muffled by a large truck banging through a pothole in the street. Charity staggered back and fell, her head landing hard against the sidewalk. Even as the waitress at O’Henry’s began to scream, Hiroshi had knelt and snatched the envelope from Charity’s twitching fingers.

  He walked away hurriedly, vanishing from sight within seconds.

  In his wake, Charity Grace was left staring up at the sky. Her last thoughts before she blacked out were about the brevity of time she’d been given… and how much of it she had wasted.

  Chapter IV: Forever Evil

  Quick Dan hated Bingwen’s old shop. It was too small and it had a strange odor that clung to the place, no matter how much cleaning you did to it. It was the accumulation of years’ worth of incense and strange Oriental potions, he reasoned.

  He could still feel the vibrations of the autogyro beneath him, even though he’d landed the strange aircraft nearly a half hour ago. It was hidden in one of the many empty buildings that could be found in the Chinatown district. Though many had seen it coming and going, no one would say anything to the authorities. Secrets were prized currency in this region and you often paid with your life.

  Dan lit a cigarette and stepped into the main area of the old shop, where Locke, Craig and Hiroshi were seated around a circular table. They were flipping through the books and papers that Charity had been carrying. “Find anything interesting?” he asked between puffs.

  Craig sat back, looking flustered. “I tell you, this can’t be right. It’s impossible.”

  “Just because it doesn’t match up with your theories doesn’t mean that it’s untrue,” Hiroshi pointed out. The handsome young man reached out and squeezed Craig’s shoulder. “I brought you into this because you might be the only one who can revive her. If that is Pandora inside the skull and not some nameless demon, I need to know, can you free her?”

  Craig paused before nodding. He was obviously unhappy to find out that Pandora wasn’t running free in the world, killing monsters like he’d thought. Quick Dan had heard Locke trying to reason with him, saying that there was no reason why Craig’s notions couldn’t coexist with the fact of Pandora being in the skull. Perhaps, she’d argued, Pandora had done exactly as Craig’s sources claimed until the day that she’d become trapped in the Silver Skull. The stories of the Skull’s ‘dark powers’ might simply come from the energies associated with Pandora herself and not any demon.

  “I can free her,” Craig said, though there was a hint of doubt in his voice. “But in order to do that, we’ll need the Skull.”

  “Which we gave to our enemies,” Locke pointed out. “I never understood that part of the plan.”

  “You’ve stated that several times,” Hiroshi replied testily. “I needed access to an expert like Miss Emerson. Charity Grace gave me that, all the while keeping our presence a secret from more established forces. If we had given her a fake Skull, she would have figured that out and it might have delayed her looking to prove the connection between Pandora and The Skull.”

  Craig leaned forward. “You already knew about this? Or at least suspected it?”

  “Yes. I’ve looked for Pandora for many years, my good doctor, and in the end, I came to the conclusion that she had been trapped in The Silver Skull.”

  Locke stood up, her exasperation making her foolhardy. “But now we don’t even have the Skull! How are we supposed to resurrect Pandora without it?” She glared at Hiroshi, ignoring the whispered word of warning that came from Quick Dan. “And you haven’t even told us exactly how she’s going to help you take over Washington, D.C.!”

  Hiroshi was up from his chair so fast that he was nothing more than a blur. He seized Locke around the throat and shoved her hard against
the wall, lifting her up so that her toes barely scraped the floor. As she gasped for air, pushing at his grip, he hissed, “I tell you what you need to know. You work for me and if you want a place in the coming world order, then you’ll shut your mouth and remember your place. My mother once went six months without saying a single word because my father told her that he’d cut out her tongue with scissors if she questioned him again. Is that what I will have to do with you? It would greatly lessen your usefulness to me, given that your tongue seems quite popular with the men you seduce!”

  With obvious disgust, Hiroshi tossed her aside. She landed in a heap at Dan’s feet and the ugly man knelt at her side, giving her a comforting squeeze.

  Hiroshi looked around at each of them, ensuring that they were listening to his every word. His voice became so loud that people on the street hurried on, sensing that this was not something they wanted to hear. “I am the leader here. I allow all of you the opportunity to express yourself but I have my limits. You will trust and believe that I know what is best because I do! I gave Miss Grace the Silver Skull so that she might prove my theory. She has done so. Those papers that we have been looking at, I did not just take them from her. I left her in a pool of blood on the streets! She is probably dead by now! We will march into Hendry Hall and take back what is ours and then Pandora will fulfill her destiny by helping me claim what should be mine!”

  “She didn’t mean any harm,” Quick Dan murmured. “She’s just a dumb broad.”

  Hiroshi saw Locke’s cheeks redden at her friend’s words and he laughed. The tension in the room began to dissipate and Hiroshi took his seat once more. “Dumb broad,” he said, still chuckling. “You are so right, Dan. Locke, please sit back down.”

  Locke rose unsteadily, pushing Dan’s hands away from her. She swayed somewhat but made it back to her chair. There were bruises already forming on her smooth neck. “I’m sorry,” she said hoarsely.

  “It’s forgotten,” Hiroshi said dismissively.

  “I didn’t realize that you’d already killed her.”

  “As I said, it’s in the past.”

  Obviously eager to help move the discussion forward, Dan took a long drag on his cigarette and asked, “So when do we go to Hendry Hall?”

  “Tonight. I want you two to have a good, hearty meal and then move out.”

  Dan and Locke exchanged glances. It was Dan who cleared his throat and spoke up first, though he obviously dreaded having to ask. “Just the two of us?”

  “Can’t you handle it?”

  “Sure.”

  “Then, yes, just the two of you.”

  “What about the people in the house?”

  “Do as you need to. Kill them if it makes it easier for you. All I care about is getting the Skull back.” Hiroshi looked over at Craig, whose eyes were very wide. The doctor was obviously extremely unnerved by the confrontation he had just witnessed. “Still feeling confident that you can bring our Pandora back to life, Doctor Craig?”

  “Yes, but I have to confess that I’m uncertain what your ultimate plans are – not that I’m asking!”

  Hiroshi sighed and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he seemed to have reached some sort of decision. He leaned back and crossed one leg over the other. His posture conveyed supreme confidence and even those who were nursing extreme anger towards him – such as Locke – were drawn in by his charismatic nature. It was a gift, one that would serve him well as Emperor. He was handsome and magnetic, drawing people to him like moths to a flame. Even when someone knew they were going to get burnt, they couldn’t pull themselves away.

  “Pandora accumulated a lot of magic over the years. Just as you surmised, Doctor Craig, she came to view it as her lot in life to hunt down the demons and destroy them. Her method of doing this was to place them into a new trap: her own soul. She allowed herself to be the vessel that would contain these awful beasts in the hope that it would free the world of sin, fear and destruction. Unfortunately, the number of monsters she’d unleashed was too many to count and over time, she became corrupted by the very creatures she sought to destroy. Her ability to control her power and her actions began to wane. She became as large a threat to mankind as the things she’d unleashed. Finally, a powerful wizard decided that he coveted her power but he knew better than to destroy her and unleash the great beasts she held within. So he put her into a cage. He was then able to manipulate the power, filtered through her and through the Skull.”

  “But you want to free her? Isn’t that… dangerous?” Craig asked. “Why not just use the Skull like the old wizard did?”

  “Because I want her full glory. I plan to free her,” Hiroshi’s eyes gleamed with madness. “And then I plan to woo her. I will win her heart and then she will fight for me. There is nothing in this world like a woman who battles for the people and things she loves. It is a passion that no man could ever equal. She will be my bride and my deadly blade that will cut through the world.”

  MITCHELL HURRIED INTO the spotless foyer of the Sovereign City Hospital. He was just about past the small guard’s station when he skidded to a stop as a beefy hand grabbed hold of his arm.

  “Where are you off to in such a hurry, boy?”

  Mitchell turned to face the security guard, a heavyset man with a thick beard. His name tag said Richards. “I’m sorry, mate, but I’m in a bit of a hurry here.”

  “Mate?” Richards said, squinting. “Where the hell are you from, boy?”

  Mitchell’s jaw tightened at the continued use of the term ‘boy’ but he kept his tone civil. “I’m English.”

  “Didn’t know they had Negroes in England!”

  I’m sure that’s not the only thing you’re don’t know, you ignorant idiot. Mitchell kept those thoughts to himself, however. Even in 1937, one had to be careful about confronting racism too directly. “We’re all over the place,” he said. “Just like your people.”

  “Or rats,” Richards pointed out. He took his hand away from Mitchell’s arm and turned to grab hold of a clipboard. “I’m gonna need you to sign in and let me know the name of the person you’re here to see. We keep track of all you people after we had those supply thefts last fall.”

  Richards turned around but found that Mitchell was already gone. With a curse, the guard tossed the clipboard back onto his desk and muttered something quite unkind.

  Thankfully for his continued existence, Mitchell didn’t hear him. The Englishman had made his way upstairs, where he ran into Li, Cedric and Mortimer. The looks on their faces made his heart sink. Had he arrived too late? Was she dead?

  Li seemed to sense his concern and moved towards him. Dressed in a red dress adorned with a yellow floral pattern, she looked like a ray of sunshine in the drab interior of the hospital. She embraced him and then pulled back, studying his face. Without him even asking, she launched into an explanation, telling him that the curator’s daughter at the Museum had called for the ambulance and then for a particular doctor, one who usually did specialty work for Assistance Unlimited.

  As if sensing that he was being talked about, Doctor Hancock emerged from a nearby room. Mitchell knew of him by reputation and was pleased to see him. He 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.

  Hancock looked at the assembled group and asked, “Are all of you here for Miss Grace?”

  “We are,” Cedric confirmed. “How is she?”

  “The good news is that the bullet passed right through her without hitting anything vital. If she hadn’t gotten medical treatment as soon as she did, she might have been at risk of bleeding out. As it is, she’s stable. In fact, she’s recovering faster than anybody I’ve ever seen.”

  Mitchell exchanged a knowing glance with Li. Charity wasn’t quite human anymore. She not only had access to the combined muscle memory of all the previous Gravedigge
rs but she was faster and stronger than a normal woman her age should be. Apparently, that translated into being healthier all around.

  “Can we see her?” Mortimer asked.

  “Well, she is awake but I’d be cautious about overwhelming her. I think it might be best if one or two of you went in, perhaps whomever is closest to her?” Hancock’s eyes naturally went to Cedric and Mortimer and Mitchell sighed. Even good men like the doctor here couldn’t help but be subtly racist in some regards. Of course the two white men would be closer to Charity than the Oriental girl or the Negro, right?

  Cedric lightly pushed Mitchell forward. “Go.”

  “You coming, Li?” Mitchell asked.

  “I can wait,” she said knowingly.

  Mitchell stepped around Doc Hancock and thanked him. He stepped into Charity’s room and was shocked to see that she was on her feet, getting dressed. She was reaching around to zip up the back of her dress, a grimace on her pretty face.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he hissed, careful to keep his voice down.

  Flashing him a smile, she responded, “Doing what all of you should have been doing already. Trying to find the bastard who shot me.” Her expression suddenly faltered. “Please tell me you didn’t leave the Skull unprotected. Isn’t anyone back at Hendry Hall?”

  “I made sure to lock it up in the safe before I left.” He moved towards her and wrapped her in his arms, enjoying the smell and feel of her. “You should be in bed.”

  “I like hearing you say that but I’m feeling better by the minute.” She kissed him lightly and turned, offering her back to him. “Finish zipping me?”

  “I should refuse.”

  “You know I’m right.”

  “Yeah, damn it, I do.” With an exaggerated sigh, Mitchell ran the zipper back up into place. “Hancock’s going to have a fit if we march you out that door.”

  “Already thought of that.” Charity moved away and grabbed her shoes in one hand. She unlatched the window and peered out. She was on the second floor, a short drop to the ground, relatively speaking. “Meet me outside, won’t you?”