clack of Hellboy’s hooves, had been the rumble of distant trains, powering through tunnels in those sections of the system that hadn’t been shut down.
“D’ye mind if I ask ye a question, Hellboy?” Sean asked as they trudged through the darkness.
Hellboy shrugged. “Go ahead.”
“D’ye ever get scared?”
“Not of the monsters.”
“What then?” said Sean. “What scares someone like you?”
Hellboy swallowed and said, “You know what really scares me?”
“What?” asked Sean.
“Damn fool questions from guys who like nothing better than to poke their noses into other people’s business.”
He spoke in a mild rumble to show that his words should not be taken too harshly. Louis got it straight away and chuckled. “That told you , kid.”
“Aw, man, that’s a cop-out!” Sean said ruefully, but he didn’t pursue the matter. He was astute enough to realize that the subject was closed.
They came to the latest of many intersections. One thing the three of them had discovered very quickly was that the tube system beneath London’s streets was not as straightforward as it appeared on the standard map. As well as the wide, reasonably well-maintained tunnels that carried the trains, there was also a more intricate secondary system of access corridors, maintenance channels, and passageways leading to storage facilities where tools and equipment were kept. Additional to this were the tunnels that led nowhere — that were blocked off, or partly blocked off, or which had caved in. Some of these — the walls caked with soot, the ground inches deep in sludge — led to long-abandoned stations, known as “ghost stations,” of which, they had been informed before heading down here, there were around forty scattered throughout the network.
At the intersection, Louis and Sean stepped forward to flank Hellboy’s muscular form and swept their gun-mounted flashlights swiftly left and right. There wasn’t much to see — more curved, soot-blackened walls; more rails; a few dark areas up ahead that might have been alcoves or side passages.
Before Hellboy had to ask, Louis was reaching into the breast pocket of his padded jacket and taking out the map they had been given at the outset of their mission. They pored over it, Louis holding one side, Hellboy pinching the other delicately between the stubby stone fingers of his right hand. Louis traced their route with a black-gloved finger.
“We’re ... here,” he said. “We’ve covered about ... what? Four miles?” He glanced at Hellboy. “So which way now, boss?”
Hellboy glowered at the map. If he was being honest, he didn’t have a clue. This plan had seemed so simple at the outset: Come down here, find the monster, batter some answers out of it. It hadn’t occurred to him that the Underground system encompassed some two hundred and fifty-odd miles of track. As if reading his thoughts, Sean said, “Ye reckon we’ll find this beastie, Hellboy?”
Hellboy scowled. “We’ll find it.”
“Ye got special powers, is that it? Monster-detecting glands or something?”
Hellboy glanced at the young officer and raised one eyebrow. “You poking fun at me, kid?”
“No way!” Sean exclaimed, then gave a slight smile. “Well, a wee bit, mebbe. I just... I don’t see how we’re goan find this thing, that’s all.”
“We know where it was last spotted,” Hellboy said. “And we can guess that most of the time it sticks to unused tunnels, out-of-the-way places, otherwise ...”
“A damn train woulda hit it,” said Louis.
“Yeah,” said Hellboy. He glanced from left to right. “My guess is that it emerged or appeared somewhere around here, and has made its lair close by. I doubt it’ll have strayed far from its place of origin.”
“What makes ye think that?” Sean asked.
“Monsters are creatures of habit. Most of ‘em stick to particular places — haunted lakes, blasted heaths, that kinda stuff — and terrorize the crap out of the
“D’ye mind if I ask ye a question, Hellboy?” Sean asked as they trudged through the darkness.
Hellboy shrugged. “Go ahead.”
“D’ye ever get scared?”
“Not of the monsters.”
“What then?” said Sean. “What scares someone like you?”
Hellboy swallowed and said, “You know what really scares me?”
“What?” asked Sean.
“Damn fool questions from guys who like nothing better than to poke their noses into other people’s business.”
He spoke in a mild rumble to show that his words should not be taken too harshly. Louis got it straight away and chuckled. “That told you , kid.”
“Aw, man, that’s a cop-out!” Sean said ruefully, but he didn’t pursue the matter. He was astute enough to realize that the subject was closed.
They came to the latest of many intersections. One thing the three of them had discovered very quickly was that the tube system beneath London’s streets was not as straightforward as it appeared on the standard map. As well as the wide, reasonably well-maintained tunnels that carried the trains, there was also a more intricate secondary system of access corridors, maintenance channels, and passageways leading to storage facilities where tools and equipment were kept. Additional to this were the tunnels that led nowhere — that were blocked off, or partly blocked off, or which had caved in. Some of these — the walls caked with soot, the ground inches deep in sludge — led to long-abandoned stations, known as “ghost stations,” of which, they had been informed before heading down here, there were around forty scattered throughout the network.
At the intersection, Louis and Sean stepped forward to flank Hellboy’s muscular form and swept their gun-mounted flashlights swiftly left and right. There wasn’t much to see — more curved, soot-blackened walls; more rails; a few dark areas up ahead that might have been alcoves or side passages.
Before Hellboy had to ask, Louis was reaching into the breast pocket of his padded jacket and taking out the map they had been given at the outset of their mission. They pored over it, Louis holding one side, Hellboy pinching the other delicately between the stubby stone fingers of his right hand. Louis traced their route with a black-gloved finger.
“We’re ... here,” he said. “We’ve covered about ... what? Four miles?” He glanced at Hellboy. “So which way now, boss?”
Hellboy glowered at the map. If he was being honest, he didn’t have a clue. This plan had seemed so simple at the outset: Come down here, find the monster, batter some answers out of it. It hadn’t occurred to him that the Underground system encompassed some two hundred and fifty-odd miles of track. As if reading his thoughts, Sean said, “Ye reckon we’ll find this beastie, Hellboy?”
Hellboy scowled. “We’ll find it.”
“Ye got special powers, is that it? Monster-detecting glands or something?”
Hellboy glanced at the young officer and raised one eyebrow. “You poking fun at me, kid?”
“No way!” Sean exclaimed, then gave a slight smile. “Well, a wee bit, mebbe. I just... I don’t see how we’re goan find this thing, that’s all.”
“We know where it was last spotted,” Hellboy said. “And we can guess that most of the time it sticks to unused tunnels, out-of-the-way places, otherwise ...”
“A damn train woulda hit it,” said Louis.
“Yeah,” said Hellboy. He glanced from left to right. “My guess is that it emerged or appeared somewhere around here, and has made its lair close by. I doubt it’ll have strayed far from its place of origin.”
“What makes ye think that?” Sean asked.
“Monsters are creatures of habit. Most of ‘em stick to particular places — haunted lakes, blasted heaths, that kinda stuff — and terrorize the crap out of the
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