Hellboy: Unnatural Selection(39)

"But Abby, and Abe, and that madman Blake — "

"Abe's a big boy, he 'll look after Abby. And Blake may not exist. I know I wasn't there, but Kate's reasoning sounds full of holes."

"Maybe."

They crossed the bridge and passed between the first of the towering buildings. The streets were alive, people flowing in both directions and painting the sidewalks every color imaginable. Manhattan was the whole world condensed into one area, its good and its bad. A car horn blared, and a boy helped an old woman cross the road. A man slumped in a doorway with blood running from his nose, and an old beggar with no legs counted up the generous dollars that would pay for his meal that night.

"Will you look at that guy," Liz said, and Hellboy looked. The man was standing on a street corner juggling flaming sticks. A small crowd had built up around him, kids clapping and adults looking suitably impressed, and the crowd gasped in unison as he plucked a stick from the air and swallowed its burning end. Liz parked at a red light and watched, and Hellboy saw the spinning flames reflected in her eyes. For a few seconds she seemed to forget that he was there. He let her.

The light changed, and they drove on.

"How do we find this banshee?" Liz said.

Hellboy shrugged. "Met one in Ireland once," he said. "Far as I can tell, they only visit families of Celtic or Gaelic descent. That pretty much rules me out, but the report Tom had said that everyone who lives within two blocks of Central Park can hear it at night."

"I'll bet it's zeroed the crime problem in the park, at least."

"Maybe the NYPD will sign it up."

"You think it'll talk?"

"We can but try. Trouble is, I figure if Kate's idea does hold any shred of truth, and this thing is from Blake, it won't be too keen to reveal the fact."

"Banshees are spirits, right? Not flesh and blood?"

"You're asking me?"

Liz smiled. "You re not as dumb as you make out sometimes. "

"Actually I am, and now you've hurt my feelings."

"Big red jerk."

"Done it again."

Liz laughed, Hellboy back at her. He and Liz worked well together, and they were good in each other's company. He sometimes thought it was because they distracted each other from too much introverted misery. Occasionally he believed it could be something else. But they'd known each other too long, and been through too much, to do anything that would risk such a precious friendship.

The traffic stopped and started, worming its way north and south, east and west. Hellboy wanted to start at the bottom and work up, and it was almost midnight by the time they reached the southern extreme of Central Park. The roads and sidewalks were just as busy here, but as Liz parked and turned off the engine, they noticed how quiet the crowds were. So many people, so little noise.

"They're like zombies," Liz said quietly.

Hellboy opened his window and looked at the faces of those passing by. A couple of people glanced up, most did not. Many held hands or had their arms around each other, a comfort for both. "They're scared," he said. And then he realized why.

The wail rose in the distance, growing louder and louder as if the wailer were drawing closer. It was an appalling sound — a wolf in pain or a child screeching for its lost mother. It changed from a wail to a scream, lessened to a sob, rose again, and it echoed between the buildings and along the streets and avenues, giving the impression that its source was everywhere. Hellboy looked into Central Park, and it seemed much darker than normal.

"Oh shit!" Liz said. "What the hell is that?"

"That's the voice of the banshee," he said. People were hurrying from the streets now, trying to lose themselves inside or behind buildings in the hope that the wail would not find them there. They were crying, but their sobs were merely human. "Let's go," he said.

"Out there? Into that?"

"It's what we came for. Easier to find it if we can hear it crying. Once it falls silent, it'll be just another shadow."

Liz frowned across the front seat at Hellboy, then reached out for his hand. She closed her fingers around two of the big fingers on his right hand, squeezed, and he loved her then because he knew there was no awkwardness in the gesture, He smiled, nodded. Then they left; the Humvee, and the banshee's wail rose to a piercing shriek.

Liz covered her ears. Hellboy bit his lip. They crossed the street together, not needing to look out for cars because no one was driving here anymore. Those who were still in their cars were covering their ears, burying their heads in their hands, or shouting in an effort to drown out the dreadful noise.