Hellboy: Unnatural Selection(86)

"It's not good. You don't need me to tell you what's happening, what's assaulting you?"

"I've just been out onto the concourse. Two of my men were killed there by a lion with a man's head, and I emptied a mag into a giant bloody black dog before the damn thing even decided to sit."

"They're in the hotel already?"

"No, we're — " Smith broke off, and Liz held the phone away as the crackle of gunfire came again. "We're holding them off," he said. "So yeah, I've got a rough idea of what's happening. The world's come to us. That sound about right?"

"That's about right. Smith, there's worse to come. You're being harried at the moment, but there are things coming up the river — big things — and they'll be with you any time now."

"How big?"

"Well ... don't bother with machine guns."

"Right. Basement, then."

"We're heading away, but I'll keep the channel open," Liz said. "Good luck."

"Luck's got nothing to do with it." Smith clicked off, and Liz stared at the mouthpiece for a second, thinking she should have said more. But what more was there to say? He was the man on the ground, he was the one facing these things, not just watching from a safe distance.

"We need to go," Hellboy said. "Hey, pilot, follow the river down to the sea. Stay at this height, and keep a look out for ... things."

"Yeah, sure. Things," the pilot said in their headphones. His voice was flat, panic subdued by shock. "And my name's Hicks."

"Hicks, you got any guns in this thing?"

"Usually a door gun, but it's not mounted today."

"Great." Hellboy pulled his pistol, checked that it was loaded, and holstered it again. "Let's go."

The three of them remained at the door as the helicopter turned and headed east, watching the battle recede behind them, seeing a Tornado smash into the hotel, sending burning debris to the ground below. Something rose from the flames, itself blazing, but the fire soon died out as the flesh-and-blood creature from myth and legend spun around for another attack.

"This is bad," Liz said.

"Yeah, its bad." Hellboy turned to face Liz.

That was when the pilot started screaming.



* * *





Motorway approaching London — 1997



ABE SAPIEN SAW THE shape diving out of the sun, flashed his lights, stepped on the gas, closed the distance between him and Abby, saw her glance in her mirror with her eyes open in recognition, pointed up, shouted even though he knew she could not hear him, and by the time she'd understood his message, the giant bird had landed on her car and lifted it clear of the road.

Abe gave chase, amazed. Abby's cars wheels were still spinning — he looked down at his own speedometer and saw that he was doing more than eighty — yet still the bird moved ahead. It followed the course of the road for a few seconds, and Abe instantly saw why. Drivers terrified at the sight of the thing swerved across lanes, crashing into the sides of buses, spinning from the road, and tumbling a dozen times across fields and into ditches, and he had to use every ounce of concentration to negotiate his way through the accidents happening all around him. Someone broad-sided him, and he fought with the wheel, letting the Jeep swerve across two lanes before halting its drift and bringing it back on course. He dodged past a white van shaking from side to side, ducked in front of a little two-seater sports car, then put his foot down and cleared the jam of traffic. At last free of the accident, he looked up, only to see the huge bird — he thought it was a rukh — turn sharply to the left and head off across the countryside.

Abe steered onto the hard shoulder and slammed on the brakes, leaving a cloud of smoke in the air behind him. He scrambled across the front seats and jumped from the Jeep, staring after the rukh and the car and Abby trapped inside. He had never felt so helpless.

"Now what?" he shouted. "Now what do I do?"

He called Hellboy on his satellite phone, but the ring was not answered. Maybe the big red guy was busy.

Abe jumped back into the Jeep and, lacking any other course of action, headed for London.



* * *





London Docklands — 1997



"COME AROUND AGAIN!" Hellboy screamed. "Don't turn your back on it!" The pilot swerved the helicopter. Hellboy swung from the open door, and his fist crushed metal as he struggled to hold on. He reached the pivot point and swung back in, and the griffin filled his whole field of vision. Someone shouted behind him, but there was no time to turn and look. He raised the pistol and let off three shots, seeing at least one of them find its target. The griffin raised its head in pain, and the rotor blades took a slice of skin and feathers from the top of its head.