Hellboy: Unnatural Selection(46)

She looked back at the paper, and whatever the Memory presence had given her had been channeled through her hand. While she was distracted by her own deep thoughts, information had risen from the depths. She had written of intent, though she had an idea of that already. She had sketched ideas of vengeance and intervention, an image of the world gathered under a pair of spread wings, Blake taking the world under his own control. That, too, she had suspected. What she had never known was how and where, and here was a rough map, drawn in her own hand, of a place she could not yet recognize.

But she would find out.

She had gone to the Memory seeking Blake, and something he had left behind had given her a map. She should have been pleased, but she knew what was to come. This information only took her one quick step closer to her doom.



* * *



Abby left Baltimore in the dark, rain still sheeting down, and as she sat in the back of the taxi, the world opened up to her. At the airport she would buy a map and sit drinking coffee until she could figure out where her sketch would lead her. Then she would fly, and during the flight she would prepare herself for whatever was to come.

She looked out the rain-smeared window and saw the moon peering from behind the thinning clouds. Her nemesis and her hope, her devil and her comfort. Her breathing was shallow, and she was terribly aware of the taxi driver's hot blood coursing through his veins.

She could hear the beating of his heart.

Time was running out.



* * *





Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense Headquarters, Fairfield, Connecticut — 1997



HELLBOY AND LIZ returned to HQ at daybreak. They stood in the parking lot and watched the sun rise, sharing a silent moment.

As they entered the building and signed in, Tom Manning hurried across the lobby, coffee cup in one hand and sheaf of papers in the other. "We think we know!" he said. "It's flimsy, but it seems to tie in with what's been happening. Come on, Kate's waiting."

"Have you told Abe?" Hellboy asked.

Tom paused and glared at Hellboy. "Considering he's gone off on his own, I'm not sure that's relevant."

Hellboy reared up, rising onto the tips of his hooves, tail swishing at the floor. "Of course it's relevant," he whispered. "Tom, don't piss me off on this one. You know where Abe's gone, and you know why. And it's not as if he's avoiding anything. Do you really think he'd want to be dropped into the Caribbean to fight a kraken the size of Iceland?"

"It's not right," Tom said. He stood his ground without averting his eyes, and Hellboy was quietly impressed.

"It is right, it just doesn't follow your rules."

"Rules are what make us — "

"Don't screw with me, Tom. Kate's classy cryptid word can apply to anyone here, you know that. Even you, Tom. Honorary cryptid. Like that?"

Tom shook his head, but he smiled tightly, and it did something to drag the exhaustion from his face for a while. "I'll call Abe and fill him in. Of course I will. But you're wrong, Hellboy."

"About you being — "

"No, that's good. I like that. But you're wrong to lump yourself in with the things screwing up the world today. I'm a human being. So was Hitler. See?"

Hellboy growled at the name and everything it conjured, but he knew why Tom had used that analogy. And yes, he saw.

"So let's work out what we can do about all this. If what Kate's come up with is right, you and Liz will be jetting off again very soon."

"London?"

"London. But we wanted to talk it through with you first, show you some more pictures that have just come in. If you and Liz agree we're on the right track, I've got lots of phone calls to make while you're en route."

"Selling your shares?"

"I wish. No, I'll be speaking to the president and to the prime minister of the U.K., asking them to mobilize their armed forces."

"What'd I tell you?" Hellboy said to Liz. "Lots of very big guns."

Liz lit a cigarette and offered Hellboy a light. "Why do I feel we're going to have a busy few days?" she said. "Damn, all I want to do is sleep."

Tom waved them on with his handful of papers. "No rest for the wicked," he said. "Let's go."



* * *