Hellboy: Unnatural Selection(15)

"Eyes front," she said.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I don't want to end up as fish bait when you drive us off this mountain."

"No, Miss Sherman, what do you mean when you say — "

"Call me Liz." She rested her arm through the open window and looked up the gently sloping mountain. She'd been rude, cutting off the conversation like that. Especially as she liked Dimitris. His na?veté was appealing, and there was a certain innocence about him that actually made her jealous. Liz had been innocent once, but it had come to an abrupt end back in '73 when she burned her family to death. Ever since then, she had craved a return of innocence, but she knew that finding it again was about as likely as becoming a virgin.

She glanced at Dimitris, but he was staring ahead with grim determination. Maybe she'd already ruined this potential friendship even before it had begun. The British had a saying for it: she'd pissed on her chips.

The policeman drove them higher. Dust swirled through the car, the road became rougher, and he started to mutter under his breath. Liz thought he was praying, and she wished that she could, too.

"I told you so," Dimitris said a few minutes later. He stopped the car, and Liz nodded a silent admission that, yes, he had told her.

The building had been white once, but fire had scorched it black. Tiles had shattered from the heat, and charred roof timbers sat exposed to the sun. They were still smoking gently, as though fire were hiding in their depths just waiting for the right moment to erupt again. Masonry had cracked, one wall had tumbled to the ground, and a blackened mass lay twenty feet from the ruined building, buzzed by flies. It had no discernible human features, but Liz knew a burned corpse when she saw one.

"You need to leave me here and go back down the mountain," she said very slowly.

"Not now that I've come so far," Dimitris said.

"Dimitris, you really need to go. A phoenix is no dragon; there's no reason for it to be doing this. Fire accompanies its death and rebirth."

"You believe me? Well, then, I can't just leave — "

"Dimitris!" Liz looked at him and saw that perhaps he did care. "Please ... I've handled worse than this. Go back down, and when I come down later, how about I buy you a drink?" She gave him her best smile, the one that made her eyes look as though they were aflame.

"Miss Sherman, if you're sure ... ?"

"I'm fireproof. Usually."

Dimitris uttered a short bark of a laugh, reached out to touch her hand, and then the phoenix landed on the car and started to prove Liz right.

Now she was hot.

The roar of the fire was tremendous. It had come after a loud clap above them, the sound of the phoenix striking its wings together. Liz wished she had taken more time on the journey over to read up on phoenix mythology, but the drinks trolley had been stocking a good single malt, and whiskey took away her memories.

Shit!

Fire bathed the vehicle like a flaming waterfall, melting the tires, igniting rubber seals, warping and cracking metal, shattering glass, and the sounds were worse than the heat, rocking the car from side to side as every air pocket exploded and the metal shell split in two. They were surrounded by the flames. The stench of burning was awful, a nightmare, her nightmare, and Liz opened her mouth to scream against the memories being dredged up. But there was no air in the car, and her scream remained unborn.

Something grasped at her arm, and she saw the skin on Dimitris' hand bubble and blister as he squeezed.

Liz kicked open her door and rolled out into the flames.

The fire stopped. It died out as quickly as it had come, leaving only the ruined car in its wake. Metal pinged and cracked as it continued to expand and rupture. Tires were black puddles in the dust. Glass ran. And at last, Liz found the air to scream.

The phoenix sitting on the car roof looked down at her almost casually. It had curled its claws through the metal, and now it shifted its footing so that it could turn to face her head-on. It was beautiful. Coppery plumage, merging to a gorgeous deep plum color on its wing tips. Huge wings, narrow and graceful, and a long curved beak that looked as finely crafted as a musical instrument. She caught its eye, and it tilted its head to one side, as if waiting for her to speak.

Liz stood, brushing her hands subconsciously over her smoldering clothes. The bird watched, tilted its head some more, and then it bowed three times. Damn, I wish I'd read more! she thought again, but regrets could do her no favors. She bowed three times in return, never taking her eyes from the phoenix.