“I think,” he gasped, “I think we’ve lost it.” The Oriental looked out the front window, then out both sides. All he could see were trees and tall grass. They had entered a veritable forest of seven-foot-tall brush. The reed-colored strands backed everything off except for the trunks of the ebony trees. The van mowed down the grass as it went, but they were effectively driving blind.
“I can’t spot it,” the Oriental reported, getting up. He slipped into the rear and moved toward the back windows, this time ignoring the sensual young girl and Banner, who had managed to untangle themselves and sit side by side for balance. The Oriental stared at the crushed wake outside the window. No rhino appeared behind them. It had completely disappeared. It was as if it had been a dream. But the large dent in the van’s side gave silent testimony to its reality.
“Nothing,” called out the Oriental. “It’s gone.”
The Britisher turned to look for himself. He looked carefully. And as he looked, the reedy grass in back of him parted, exposing a tableau of trees and trampled undergrowth. Rosanne struggled to her knees, the half-foot length of rope holding her legs in check and pulling cruelly at her calves. She looked beyond the Britisher’s staring head and saw a dark movement behind a grove of trees off to the right.
As she watched, a massive head of rhinoceri appeared around the makeshift corner. Soon the thundering group completely filled the windshield, bearing down on them with angry formality. She screamed out a warning, but the cloth allowed her only a muffled squeak. Banner saw her hands desperately twisting, and her shoulders trembled. Suddenly it occurred to the Britisher that she was acting very strangely.
His head was still turned toward the back window, the sound of their motor having covered the herd’s earth-shaking approach. He stared at Rosanne’s face. Her brow was wrinkled, her eyes pleaded, and heavy beads of sweat had appeared on her forehead. She nodded quickly, using her skull like a pointing finger. Finally, ages later, the Britisher turned around.
He shouted at the top of his lungs and swung the wheel to the left as hard as he could. The van leaped up and smashed into a tree. The Britisher met the dashboard with a sickening thud a second later. Rosanne ducked and turned in time to avoid colliding with the floor face first. Instead, she fell upon Banner, who pushed forward so that his body would shield her. Together they crashed into the back of the front seat. The Oriental, meanwhile, literally flew over their heads, flailing, into the front of the vehicle.
A second after that, the charging animals slammed into the wounded van. Like a huge gray wave hitting a seashore, they bashed it back, then slowly turned it over. The van dropped onto its side, shaking and tumbling its occupants. The only sound was the screeching of metal as it was being ripped apart.
In front of Banner’s face a horn appeared, like a gigantic flower growing from the steel soil of the roof. Then another and another, until that side of the van looked like a bed of knives. Before anyone could regain his footing, the vehicle began to move again. It scraped across the ground with ever-increasing speed. The Oriental managed to climb over the unmoving form of the Britisher to the side window.
Poking his head out, he saw the entire area awash with snorting beasts, encircling and moving the van like a river taking a twig downstream. Suddenly, his viewpoint banked and the van gained even more speed. Then it became apparent that the vehicle was moving on its own—they had been pushed down a hill. The Oriental turned just as they were about to lay into another set of trees.
He fell back inside as the van’s rear hit one trunk, spinning them to the side. Then they were once again sliding down facing forward. Through the windshield they could see more trees, grassland, and what looked like the end of the world. The view simply disappeared at that point, filled in by the glorious colors of the sunset. Banner realized that they were slipping toward a cliff’s edge.
The Oriental scrambled over his associate and climbed toward the back doors. Both of them had been pushed in by the last crash, but they were still closed, The man reached the handles, twisted, and pushed. They stayed shut. He moved back a step. He screamed an oath and his arm moved forward in a blur. There was a crack, and the handle fell off. The door bucked but remained shut.
The Oriental stood back another step, keeping his balance. One leg shot out and the doors tore open slightly. As soon as the sliver of light appeared, the man leaped forward and tore at the space. With an echoing creak, one door finally fell open, dragging on the ground. The Oriental took one look back, then jumped out.
Banner and Rosanne watched as the small yellow body bounced out of their sight in the tall grass. Then they stared at each other in silent supplication. Her eyes screamed for him to change. He tried to translate his helplessness. It wasn’t something he could control. He fought his handcuffs and tried to climb up the slanting van side. But the rope snaring his legs kept him from gaining any kind of leverage. Then he tried pushing Rosanne up. But with no hands and very little legs, it was impossible. They couldn’t even cry out.
Suddenly, the van spun around. It had given a tree a glancing blow sufficient to change it, momentarily, into a whirling top. As a result, Banner, the girl, and the Britisher were thrown toward the back from centrifugal force. The unconscious Englishman, completely relaxed, tumbled out first with a bone-breaking abandon. Rosanne scrambled out next, with Banner just managing to kick out before the spinning momentum ran out.
They rolled over and over, losing sight of each other in the tall grass. Banner finally came to a dusty rest on the very edge of the cliff. He sat up just in time to see the van shoot off the end of the steep precipice, flying outward for twelve feet, then arcing down face forward into the rocky cliff face, which made a forty-five-degree angle with the flat land below. The van tumbled end over end, its shattered glass spinning out in all directions, reflecting the dusk’s colors like fireworks. Suddenly, a liquid sheen spread out from it, and then the metal hunk was engulfed by a ball of flame. With a throaty scream the van dropped down into the forest, burning.
Banner turned away and saw an even more amazing scene. The Oriental was standing amid the tall reeds, and Bruce thought he could see where Rosanne might be sitting. But above them all, at the top of the hill, as if checking out their fate, was a line of rhinoceri stretching as far as Banner could see to either side. The sunset reflected highlights off their tough gray hides and made their little eyes shine.
They created muscular waves. When one moved, the whole line moved in succession to make room for it. Their three-toed hooves stamped and they reared. Then they all charged down the hill.
Banner immediately struggled to his feet. He looked behind him. The drop was impossible to navigate, especially in his present situation. The fall from the van had not loosened his bonds in the least. He quickly returned his gaze to the thundering line of animals. He saw Rosanne’s head appear amid the tall grass looking at the stampede in horror. The horizon was huge and the rhinos obscured almost all of it with their charging bodies and the cloud of dust that rose behind them.
The Oriental was closest to them, and he was running away as if possessed. He could feel their vibrations slamming into his feet and their breaths bearing down on him. The quaking of the ground was so violent that he could hardly find his own footing. In a last desperate attempt, he spun, anchored in his position, and struck his karate pose. The hands shot out but cracked ineffectively against the onrushing hides. He screamed in fury, then disappeared underneath the animal mob.
The beasts charged ever onward, seemingly seeking their own revenge on mankind. What could have charged them with such a venging fury? What force was fueling their actions? As the line trampled everything in its path, Banner saw one rhino’s head move down to meet a tree which stood in its way. The three-and-a-half-foot-long horn dug in near the base and, unbelievably, it was the tree that fell in a flurry of branches, dirt, and rocks.
Rosanne spun and began to struggle toward Bruce. The half-foot length of rope constricting her legs t
ore into her skin. Her face twisted in pain and despair. Banner listened for the Englishman, but the animals’ roar drowned out the sound of anything else, including his possible death cries. The girl continued to woefully move toward him.
He saw her mouth work beneath the cloth. He saw the gag begin to droop. The rhinos’ onslaught filled his head. The world was shaking, ripping out of its space in the Universe. The girl was being covered in a blanket of dust, dirt, and grass. She was sinking. The gag slipped down until her red upper lip appeared. It was obscured a moment later by a fetid, slick ball of mucus-covered cloth. Then the hunk of cotton that filled her mouth dropped out.
She fell before the stampede, screaming his name.
Banner was thrown from his trance with a neck-breaking speed. The last thing he heard was the sound of metal exploding and rope shredding. What was left of his handcuffs cut a swath the size of a telephone out of a nearby tree. The ropes securing his legs turned into strands of wheat, and his gag turned into confetti. The immense green legs stretched out and the Hulk flew over the ground at a height of five feet. He had only to lower one leg to complete the one-hundred-foot trip. A rhino was about to slam into Rosanne’s twisting body when two cannonball-sized fists buried themselves into its flank.
The three tons of charging animal astonishingly stopped with a vibrating snap. The two green feet rooted themselves on ether side of the girl’s body and one fist swung again like a wrecking ball. The subsequent sound echoed all the way down the line. Then the entire fourteen feet of armored animal collapsed.
Its brothers bringing up the rear tripped over its carcass, and the Hulk swung his fists, smashing the fallen beasts out of the way of his angel, until the line had passed. Dust covered the two of them, creating a rose-colored dream-cloud. Through it, the Hulk could see his angel’s face. She was smiling, and tears of gratitude were rolling from her dark eyes. She said his name. Once, twice. He gently rolled her over. With one finger he snapped the handcuff chain. With two hands he pulled her leg ropes apart like saltwater taffy. He picked her up, and the cloud was gone.
He turned around with her in his arms. At the edge of the cliff stood the line of rhinoceri. Around the Hulk and the girl were three more rhinos, lying with their eyes closed and with froth covering their square mouths. From the cliffside, the tiny black eyes of the other animals pinned the Hulk to the spot. Then, from the center of the line, came the biggest rhinoceros of all.
It was almost seven feet tall and sixteen and a half feet long. It had two horns; the one in front measured five feet, two inches, and the rear horn was almost four and a half feet long. Its hide was thick and covered with protective wrinkles, and its glowing eyes held more triumph and knowledge than any of its followers. It was the king among them. The Hulk met its gaze. The two beasts understood each other.
The Hulk slowly lowered his angel to the ground. His broad hand moved her behind him. Rosanne, not understanding why they didn’t simply run away, put her hand on his arm. He turned to face her. Softly, he took her hand away, then traced her facial features with his finger, as he had before. He smiled—not the smile of a contented child, but one of a self-assured gladiator about to enter the arena.
The Hulk turned back to the rhino king. The animal’s head drooped, then rose, as if he were bowing. The Hulk’s hands became fists, and the rhino snorted and charged. The Hulk leaped forward. The two beasts sped across the plain, the ground shaking from their brutal race.
They collided with a thunder’s clap. The horn went under the green man’s left arm, which contracted as the Hulk’s right fist cut across the animal’s hide. Dust spat up, creating waves around the conflict. The Hulk had the king in a headlock, and he was pummeling it with his free fist. The rhino anchored its feet and pulled its crown up. The green feet left the ground and the Hulk tumbled over the beast’s back.
The rhino spun awkwardly and tried to gore the Hulk as he sat, but the horn only served to help him up, since his skin was tougher than iron. The Hulk turned quickly, with his elbow bent to catch the beast behind the ear. Then his two hands slapped the rear legs and held on. He pulled. The legs slid, but stayed down. Just as the Hulk was about to pull again, the rhino kicked back.
The flat of both hooves slammed into the broad green chest. Then the Hulk’s own legs swung upward and he fell backward five yards. Rosanne gasped and the rhino herd cried with triumph. But the Hulk was up, his face now infused with pain and hostility. He moved quickly forward and laid two roundhouse punches on the rhino’s snout. Then he kicked it under the chin.
The rhino quickly retreated, shaking its head in surprise. The Hulk swung again, missed, and nearly slipped. Then he, too, moved back. The two of them stared at each other, both realizing that the fight was going to be tougher than either had expected. The rhino king looked as if it were considering surrender, but it saw there was no such thought in the minds of its fellows. The Hulk didn’t care. He’d take them all on if he had to.
The rhino snorted, scratched the ground with its hooves, then charged forward again. The Hulk (to everyone’s surprise) suddenly turned heel and ran. But he stopped at the first tree, a short baobab with a nine-foot-thick trunk. The huge green hands grabbed the bark and pulled. Roots tore from the earth as the rhino changed direction to charge again. It tracked down the Hulk and its horn lowered again like a lance.
At the last minute, the Hulk tore the trunk away completely, and the branches whipped into the rhino’s head. The beast’s hooves slid to an abrupt stop and began to backtrack. The Hulk dropped the tree and ran toward the struggling animal. As the rhino freed itself from the gripping branches, the Hulk hugged the tree again. Like Babe Ruth reaching for the sixty-second homer, the Hulk swung, and the apex of the trunk hit the rhino just under its eye. The body spun twice around. Then the knees buckled and the king collapsed. The Hulk stared at his fallen opponent, then dropped the tree and purposefully walked toward the creature. He dropped to his knees before it and gently lifted its head. He looked at both sides of the head, and then he lowered it to the ground again by its forward horn.
With a sudden cry, the Hulk lifted the tree, planted one massive palm against its bottom, and hurled it away like a shotput. The thirty-foot wooden shaft flew across the field, over the shaking bodies of the rhino herd, and followed the van down the cliff. By the time it reached the bottom, it had been split into torn logs.
The herd’s heads turned as one to stare at the new champion. Several of the rhinos moved forward to check their fallen leader. Then they began to move sadly away, disappearing into the tall grass. Within minutes the only rhino in sight was the dead one at the Hulk’s feet. The green monster looked down at his defeated opponent. One empty eye stared up, and within it the Hulk saw his own reflection. He saw his bestial face and his heavy, cracked skin. He saw his mane moving like restless waves, blown by the night wind.
He turned to look at his angel, whose features were disappearing into the darkness. She was safe . . . The Hulk lay down next to the giant gray body and closed his angry eyes.
Ten
Banner saw him in the distance. He walked slowly with his head hung low, as if he were carrying a great weight. The legs didn’t stumble, however; they walked with a steady, strong rhythm. His own body floated along, bringing him closer to the approaching figure.
At last the figure raised his head and looked at him. The look was perplexed and quizzical. Then it showed recognition. They knew each other. The figure held out his arms to keep the floating Banner from running into him.
And Banner brought his own arms up to each side of the figure’s chest. The two stared at each other with fascination and an odd sort of comfort. Then Banner’s eyes grew wide and his hands reared back, as if he had plunged his palm into a hole of worms. His legs kicked and his mouth opened in sudden panic. He began beating at the image before him, but his fists went through the figure as if it were made of air.
Then the two hands released him sorrowfully, and Banner’s flailing
sent him tumbling in the opposite direction. The figure watched the tiny, fidgeting body disappear into the distance. His hand raised as if to bid Banner farewell.
Banner shuddered. The hands that had held him were green. The face he had stared into was green. The eyes that had watched him were green. He spun and faced a long pit. At the bottom was a dark hole that promised insanity, mania, delirium, derangement, lunacy, madness, dementia, aberration, and delusions. He was gaining speed as he fell toward it. No amount of movement slowed his descent. The hole grew wider until the entire pit was the black hole. It reached up to him and wrapped around his body like a choking death.
But he did not die. Instead, he awoke. The black hole was now dotted by bright white sparkles. Then he heard the grass blowing in the wind, the faraway cry of birds, and the chattering of monkeys. He felt a weight on his chest. He looked up and saw Rosanne sleeping, her head resting on him. He turned and saw a dead rhinoceros lying a great distance beyond. Vultures were picking at its carcass.
Its blood stench would soon bring other wild animals, he realized. They had to get out of there.
“Rosanne,” he said, shaking her shoulder, “Rosanne come on, wake up.”
“Don’t,” she muttered, still sleeping.
“Rosanne,” he repeated.
“No,” she mumbled, “no school today.”
Banner moved his torso out from beneath her and gently held her up. Shaking her again, he whispered her name. Finally, her eyes opened, not recognizing him. Then her memory clicked and her innocent expression dissolved in tears. She wrapped her quaking arms around Bruce’s head and wailed.
The doctor quickly pulled her back and held one hand across her mouth.
“Rosanne, please,” he hissed, shaking her head gently. “I know it’s hard, but pull yourself together. Neither of us can stand much more of this.”
He held her until the tears had run dry and she weakly nodded her head. Then he helped her up. She leaned on him, sniffing.
Marvel Novel Series 03 - The Incredible Hulk - Cry Of The Beast Page 11
