The New Adventures of the Green Ghost

By Pro Se Press

An invention of Johnston McCulley, the creator of Zorro, the Green Ghost is secretly Danny Blaney, an honest police officer who was framed by criminals and then disgraced by his fellow officers. Acquitted by a jury and dismissed by the police, Danny, as the Green Ghost, plays a dangerous game as he confounds cops and criminals in his unique crusade for justice!

From out of the past, a mysterious masked manhunter returns to wage one man war against the forces of the underworld as he evades the forces of the law!

Pro Se Productions in conjunction with Altus Press presents a new volume in its Pulp Obscura line!
Bringing adventures and heroes lost in yesterday blazing to life in new pulp tales today!

Featuring fast moving mystery and thrills in new stories by Bobby Nash, Don Thomas and Terry Alexander.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pro Se Press
• Release date: Oct 10, 2013

Pro Se Press

Based in Batesville, Arkansas, Pro Se Productions has become a leader on the cutting edge of New Pulp Fiction in a very short time.Pulp Fiction, known by many names and identified as being action/adventure, fast paced, hero versus villain, over the top characters and tight, yet extravagant plots, is experiencing a resurgence like never before. And Pro Se Press is a major part of the revival, one of the reasons that New Pulp is growing by leaps and bounds.

Book preview

THE NEW ADVENTURES OF THE GREEN GHOST

Copyright © 2013 Pro Se Productions

Published by Pro Se Press at Smashwords

The stories in this publication are fictional. All of the characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing of the publisher.

Manifest Destiny copyright © 2013 Bobby Nash

My Brother’s Keeper copyright © 2013 Don Thomas

Beware… Fixer copyright © 2013 Terry Alexander

TABLE OF CONTENTS

MANIFEST DESTINY

by Bobby Nash

MY BROTHER'S KEEPER

by Don Thomas

BEWARE... FIXER

by Terry Alexander

MANIFEST DESTINY

by Bobby Nash

Everything was quiet in the minutes leading up to the explosion.

Danny Blaney was dozing comfortably in the back room of the cigar shop he owned when the blast rattled the walls. The entire building shook with enough force that several glasses and boxes crashed to the floor even as the small cot he often used as a bed tipped over and deposited him bodily to the floor. The room pulled double duty as a supply room and also functioned as his office, but on those rare nights when he pulled a late night doing inventory or working his other job it also served as a convenient place to crash.

As soon as he hit the bare concrete floor, Blaney was instantly awake. Years on the job as a police officer had taught him to sleep with one eye open, as the old saying warned. A light sleeper to begin with, it took very little to rouse him to wakefulness, but the chaos happening nearby would have stirred even the deepest of sleepers. A man with his past made enemies, men and women who would not waste a moment’s concern of shooting up his place if they thought it necessary. It had happened once before. Somehow, he suspected it would happen again.

Once he realized that the danger was not focused toward him, Blaney was on his feet in a shot, pulling a pistol he kept hanging in a holster on the coat rack by the door, which surprisingly was still standing. He ran into the shop and was surprised to see that nothing seemed terribly out of place there. A few displays were overturned, a light coating of dust drifted from the ceiling to settle on the showcases and floor, but nothing that could not be easily fixed with a broom and dust pan.

Across the street, however, was a different matter entirely.

Through the large plate glass window at the front of his shop, Danny Blaney saw that hell had come to his neighborhood. Directly across the street, the four story building he stared at daily from behind the counter was ablaze. Flames climbed the exterior of the once proud structure, reaching skyward as if to reach the full moon that hung in the cool autumn sky. Thick gray smoked billowed from every opening.

He stared at it, oddly mesmerized by the flickering yellows, reds, and oranges entwined together in a miasma of color and smell that threatened to overwhelm his senses.

Then he heard the screams.

There are people trapped in there! his brain shouted. Moving on instincts honed by years on the police force coupled with his extracurricular activities as The Green Ghost, Danny Blaney dropped the pistol on the counter, as it wouldn’t be needed, and sprinted across the road toward the conflagration before he even realized he’d made the decision to help. He was across the street before he’d given much thought to his own protection. Thankfully, he had dropped onto the cot without removing his clothes or shoes.

The heat was oppressive and hit him in waves the closer he ran up the five steps to the building’s front entrance. With arms raised to protect his face, he inched closer to the entrance. The door was closed, which wasn’t uncommon in the early evening hours. Although the neighborhood was nowhere near as bad as some of the ones he had visited when walking a beat, it was simply a smart move to lock things up at night. He saw the potential for the area to return to something greater than it had become in recent years. That was one of the reasons he had located his shop there. Change wasn’t easy, but he wanted his neighbors to see that he was willing to stand up and fight for his neighborhood.

He touched the handle and quickly withdrew his hand. The brass knob was hot and he felt the skin on his hand sizzle on contact. He would have to change tactics to get inside.

Putting his shoulder into the door, it took three tries to shatter the lock from its heavy wooden frame. As soon as the door opened, an influx of air rushed past him, howling like a tornado in his ears and threatening to pop his eardrums. Having been on the scene for more than one fire in his time on the force, Blaney knew exactly what was about to happen and that meant he only had seconds to act. He dove away from the door to the concrete sidewalk as a burst of flame rushed back along the hallway, igniting the rushing air as it made contact.

A geyser of flame shot out of the open doorway like a creature from the bowels of hell reaching out to claim its victims and drag them back to the fiery underworld from whence it came. The flames erupted from the open doorway with enough force to rip the heavy oak door from its hinges and launch it, and the frame holding it, into the middle of the street. Blaney hit the sidewalk hard, just seconds before the entrance exploded outward at him. He covered his head with his arms for protection from falling objects, but there was nothing that would keep him safe from the flames themselves except a whole lot of luck. The air sizzled just inches above his head as the flame beast devoured everything in its path.

And then, just as quickly as it had leapt out at him, the flames retreated back inside the building.

Blaney coughed once, twice, three times until he ejected the acrid burnt taste. Then, once he could breathe again, he rolled over to stare up at the building, thankful to escape the flames. Luck had been at his side once again. He heard the shrill whistle of sirens approaching, but waiting was not an option. By the time the fire department arrived and got into position it could be too late. He would have to handle things until they arrived. There wasn’t anything he could do about the fire itself, but he could help those trapped inside.

He raced up the steps and through the flames into the inferno that had once been an apartment building. No longer did it resemble so ordinary an edifice. To Blaney, this was no longer a place where people lived. No. This inferno was the closest thing he had ever experienced to hell.

***

Flames surrounded him on all sides.

Between the heat, the flames, and the smoke, he was deaf and blind. He stayed to the center of the hallways, careful to avoid the flames as best he could, which was no easy feat. At the first door he came to, Blaney kicked it open, not bothering to worry about pleasantries.

Hello! he shouted. Is anyone in here?

A pained cough was his only answer and he moved through the thick smoke toward the sound. The flames hadn’t reached this door yet so the handle was cool. Blaney pulled it open and stepped inside. Smoke was everywhere, so thick that it threatened to overwhelm him. He couldn’t speak for fear of inhaling another lungful of the noxious black smoke.

He heard the coughing again and made his way through the darkness until his shin bone slammed against something hard. Blaney held his tongue despite the pain. He reached out and found the footboard of the bed. Inside was a man.

Blaney dropped to his knees so he could catch his breath and see where he was going. Can you move? he asked.

I— another cough, -- can try.

Come on, Blaney said as he slipped his arm under the older man and eased him out of the bed and onto the floor. His breathing was shallow, his face caked in black soot. Take a deep breath, Blaney ordered and the man did as he was told.

Together, they made it back to the hallway and started toward the front door and the freedom that waited just beyond.

That’s when Blaney caught sight of the small box lying against the wall. It was certainly not something that was supposed to be there, although he could not tell what it was through the cardboard that surrounded it. His cop instincts screamed for him to run. He had learned to trust those instincts long ago so he scooped up his charge in his arms and darted toward the door in a mad dash.

They were just two steps away from fresh air when the second bomb exploded behind them. The force of the blast lifted both men off their feet and sent them soaring through the air only to land in a most ungraceful fashion in the street. The gentleman he had pulled from the building screamed in pain on impact and Blaney could have sworn he’d heard bones crack.

Hold tight, sir, Blaney said as he knelt next to the man. He could hear sirens approaching. The cavalry is on the way. Stay put until help arrives.

What about you? the man croaked through chapped lips. Where are you going?

"There are still people inside.