Hellboy: Unnatural Selection(55)

"Ystrad bwlch, penperlleni mynach fwnynw." The hair rose above his palm and spun in the air, a compass gone mad. "Ahh, my memory's not as bad as I thought." Hellboy smiled, the hair flopped back into his hand, and the smile slipped from his face. "Damn."

"What's up with you?" Liz called. Obviously bored with sitting in the Humvee, she'd come to investigate. He could hardly be angry with her.

"Nothing really," he said. He shook the demon hair, threw it into the air, and caught it again. It did nothing of its own volition. "The reading says the jet's all clear."

"Then why is that bad?"

"It's not, it's just that I don't trust it."

"Then why use whatever it is you re holding there in the first place?"

"Er ... " Hellboy shrugged, slipped the hair back into a belt pocket, and started inspecting the aircraft again.

Liz tapped his shoulder. "What are we looking for, exactly?"

Hellboy turned. His shoulders slumped as tension lifted — a little — and Liz's dry smile lit him up. Hellboy had a lot of friends, but they were mainly people he could call on when he needed help. Liz was someone who knew to call on him. "Well," he said, "anything that doesn't belong on a plane. Or anything that does belong but looks like it doesn't. Or something that should but looks like it shouldn't."

Liz frowned. "Oh, my God," she said. "Look! Hellboy, there!" She pointed over his shoulder.

He spun around, fisting both hands and squinting against a possible impact. "What? Where?"

"It's a wing!"

He lowered his head. Yeah, Liz was a good friend, and she knew she could get away with more than most. Hellboy turned quickly and slung her over his shoulder.

"Damn ape!" she said. "Unhand me! Let go! You're a Neanderthal!"

"I'm just looking after you while I check the plane over," he said, and he did. Liz struggled and kicked for a couple of minutes, then just lay there having a rest while Hellboy did another circuit of the aircraft. He tried to hold in the laughter that was brewing. At first he passed it off as a burp, much to Liz's disgust. Then another rumble he put down to hunger. And then, just as his laugh burst out to deny explanation, Liz started laughing as well.

They boarded the Lear jet, holding on to each other as they climbed the steps.



* * *



"So we're going to London," Liz said.

"Yep. Back to good old Britain. Been there a lot, you know. Ireland, Scotland, Wales ... the place is steeped in history. Rich in mythology."

"Dripping with ghosts," Liz said.

"Awash with apparitions."

The Lear's jets roared, they accelerated down the runway, and Liz grasped his hand. "Swarming with specters," she mumbled.

The jet lifted clear of the runway, and Hellboy looked out the window. As always he was amazed at how quickly the ground fell away. Dawn was just rising out of the Atlantic, and down below, the freeways were starting to clog with rush-hour traffic. The low sunlight cast long shadows of houses and woods, and he wondered what hid within those shadows today. It seemed the world had changed a lot over the past twenty-four hours. For Hellboy it had never been a safe place — he had seen too much to believe that — but there had always been a balance, a natural equilibrium that had seemed to right wrongs, calm chaos, and set normality back in its place. Admittedly he often had a hand in that, but he was not arrogant enough to believe that he alone was responsible. Today, watching the land fall away below and not knowing what was to come, he felt more unsettled than he ever had before.

"Hey, HB," Liz said. "Dinner's served."

They sat and ate in companionable silence, swapping bits of food that one or the other did not like. Hellboy had a beer, and Liz took advantage of the well-stocked single-malts cabinet on the Lear. They both knew that the journey would take a few hours, so there was time to relax a little, drink a little, and reflect on what the next few days might bring.

Swirling her drink, ice clinking, Liz broke the silence at last. "It's all happened so suddenly," she said.

Hellboy nodded. "I was just thinking the same thing." He finished his beer, smacked his lips, and found himself looking forward to real British ale. Assuming he'd have time to sample it, of course.

"I hope Abe finds Abby soon."

"Yeah, he's sweet on her."