Abominations

by Unknown Author

  Looks okay,” crackled the agent in Bruce’s ear. The agent disappeared down the hole.

  Twenty scconds later they were lined up in the tunnel and the Hulk took the lead. “This way,” he said. He was tempted to walk funny and had to keep from chuckling into his comlink. No sudden laughter, Bruce. They’re already scared of you; that would probably freak them all out pretty good. No use wasting ammo.

  The sound of water dripping on the pipes was almost musical, and when the cover had been drawn back into its place it seemed to the Hulk as if the sounds of the tunnel lit up, the way a lighted match will illuminate a completely dark cavern. The tunnel walls danced with the swimming headlights, white beams zipping up and down the dripping concrete and lead, the odd sedimentation giving off shimmering reflections.

  The comlink crackled with Jo Carlin’s whisper. “Dr. Banner, where should we start?” p".“Emil used to have his ‘family meetings’ in a series of tunnels a little east of here. There are a number of large areas. If he’s set up down here, he’s bound to use one of those. That is, if he’s sentimental enough to come straight back to where he left.ujH

  “Well,® she whispered, “if not, we’ll keep looking.” “That’s the spirit,” Brace muttered. Encouragement They taught that in leadership training, undoubtedly. She was doing her best to treat him as one of her team, and to show that behavior to the other members. He listened to the sound of their boots sloshing in the stagnant water around them.

  He had just turned a corner when he heard the voice. When the team came around Bruce held up a hand and they lined up and got quiet Echoing through the tunnels came a voice as familiar as his own, by now: the rasping, ragged deep voice of the creature known as the Abomination.

  “Morgan, you hear that?”

  “Yes. Dawson, augment that, could you?” -An agent in the back of the line shouldered a heavy gun and pulled out a pocket computer. ‘-‘Okay, guys, I’m gonna try to isolate that sound and bring it in clea.'ier.j3| “Won’t that confuse us when we get closcr to it?” the Hulk asked. The comlink crackled.

  “Yes, Doctor. It might So I’ll monitor the true sound on a different mike and switch the augment off if it gets too close.”

  Carlin nodded. “Switch us over at your discretion.”

  Dawson held up a thumb. “Okay. Here she blows.” There was another, sharper crackle and suddenly the distant voice came in as clearly as if the speaker were on a headset of his own. Bruce trudged on, watching the headlights dance and listening to the Abomination’s sermon. No, not a sermon: more like a song, or a meditation. The rasping words were being moaned out, or sung, like a priest at mass.

  “The sacrifice of the wicked,” came the voice in the Hulk’s ear, “is an Abomination.”

  The Hulk looked back at Morgan, a hand to his ear. “Is that a Bible verse?’S

  ‘ ‘The way of the wicked is an Abomination unto the Lord; but he loveth him that follow the path of righteousness.”

  There was another comer up ahead about twenty paces. Bruce said, ‘ ‘There’s a wide room around that turn. The first of them.”

  “Where the police line met the underground,” said Morgan.

  ‘.‘Yeah.”

  The voice continued: “The thoughts of the wicked are an Abomination unto the Lord. . .”

  “Here we go,” whispered Dawson. “Shutting off, guys, he’s close.iLs?

  “But the words of the pure are pleasant to him...” The sound dropped from the Hulk’s headset and picked up in true sound. The Hulk stuck to the comer and Morgan, Carlin, and Gamma Team fell in line behind him. He held up a hand. “Okay. Let’s go. Slowly

  The Hulk went around the comer and crouched. He peered in the darkness, watching his headlights dance around. He could see nothing. The room appeared empty. Empty but for the dripping, and the recitation.

  “Everyone that is proud in heart...’ The voice echoed so much, and yet was so faint, so raggedly whispered, that it was impossible to trace.

  Gamma Team came around the comer and fell in again in the room, lining up on one wall, crouched. The room was about thirty feet across by twenty feet long, and at the other end the tunnel continued. On the wall to their left was another exit, but this one had what appeared to be a makeshift gate in front of it, or else a crude door.

  ‘ . is an Abomination to the Lord.”

  “Can anyone tell where that’s coming from?” Morgan looked around.

  The Hulk looked around, and brought up his hand to widen the scope of his headlights. “Hello,” he said, “What?”

  “I think this is new,” he said. Stretching across the dark ceiling, illuminated only by the suddenly attentive headlights, was a heavy iron chain, rusted but still strong. At one end of the ceiling it looped over a pulley. Bruce followed the chain to the other end with his lights and saw that it disappeared through a mousehole in the top of the wooden door.

  The words were echoing louder now, more deliberate: “Abomination to the Lord, Abomination to the Lord.. .’’T The Hulk listened and stared. There was a gamma beast inside of him that would not be here. He would know enough not to come here. “This is bad, guys,’ said the Hulk, just as the door began to creak.

  “Check that door,;” Carlin said “Though hand .■

  The door began to swing, opening into the room, and there was another sound, the chain beginning to roll on the pulleys, the voice of the Abomination growing louder: ” ... join in ha, J ...”

  “Holy—” said the Hulk, and every weapon came up, but they could do nothing but stare as the chain rattled and something came out on a hook. Several somethings. <.. .join in hand, join in hand, join in hand... )

  Somewhere, the Abomination screamed, with a cry like a sucking wound,#He shall not be unpunished!” The chain cried out, rattling, as they emerged from the door, one after the other, feet bound at the ankles and slung over the chain, one after the other, dead men trussed like calves at the slaughterhouse.

  “Oh my God,’*; Morgan whispered.

  The Hulk just stared, taking in the carnage. Oh, EmV, what are you doing ? V

  .. though hand join in hand. . . in hand. .. in hand...)

  Blood splattered on the floor below the men and Bruce heard Jo cry, “Their hands . .

  He hadn’t noticed that, but now a wave of nausea came over the gamma giant as he followed the length of the tom and trussed bodies down to the swinging arms, and he realized that every single one was waving in vain.

  Because they had no hands.

  '“Somehow,” said Morgan, *»I think we were expected.”

  “This isn’t for our benefit,” whispered the Hulk.

  “What do you mean?”

  “This is art.? i"

  1 “And art,’ came a hiss, “needs its audience!”

  “The door!” Morgan spat. It was hanging open, the chain protruding from it, the view of the doorway blocked by the haphazardly nailed lumber.

  Something moved, a dark green blur, an animal quickness carrying it out the doorway and behind the corpses that swung slowly back and forth. The figure was tall and long and scaly, and as soon as it was visible the figure disappeared into a corner of the room. He’s playing with us, thought the Hulk.

  -: . -“Emil?” Bruce said, slowly, “limil?^- The agents’ headlights found their mark, each one lighting a tiny space of scaliness in the comer by the far door. In the headlights the red eyes of the Abomination burned fiery and bright. The Hulk could just barely see the whole of the figure, past the hanging handless corpses, crouching there, watching them.

  Someone chambered a round and the Hulk spat. “Hold your fire!” flsSYes, yes, hold your fire, why waste bullets, eh?” came the rasping voice.

  “We have more than bullets,” the Hulk said, although it was almost a lie. “We have a bit of a problem, Emil.® “Do yott think so?”

  ‘‘Who are...” Why was he talking? Every instinct said, spring, or nail him with a net, something, but he just wanted to hear what Emil had to say before it all
went to Bell. “Who are these people, Emil?”

  “These... people ...” hissed the Abomination in the corner, “are but one thing that is an Abomination to the Lord.

  ft- “What is that thing, Emil?’1’ the Hulk asked, slowly, moving forward a few steps.

  ‘Hands that shed innocent blood,” came the answer, and there was so much sadness in the words that the Hulk was struck instantly by the memory of the massacre. “The sewer massacre cops.”

  “Give the man a prize.”

  “You need help, Emil. Come with me.”

  ■ ^“You’ve got to be joking,” ky‘Come with me or we’ll take you by force.”

  ‘ ‘Try it,’ rsaid Emil.

  The Hulk stepped back, looking past the hanging corpses at the beast with the burning red eyes. Bruce threw a glance to the agent with the blinder and nodded. The agent flipped a switch.

  E|:Now,” said the Hulk, and the agent crouched to get a good shot and opened up the beam. Shots began to ring out. The light poured out of the blinder gun and struck the creature in the chest, too low. The beast moved sideways and sprang again, behind the line of corpses, shielded.

  EHave to come and get me, Banner,” hissed the Abomination, and then he turned and disappeared through the doorway.

  The Hulk shoved half the bodies to one side like a curtain and moved through, and the whole chain creaked and swung in the darkness. Morgan was the next one through, followed by the rest, past the curtain of bodies and into the tunnel.

  The Hulk stopped and looked ahead. There was a fork in the tunnel. He motioned to Gamma Team and said, •((Morgan, take a trank gun. You, me and, ah, these three go right. The rest go left with Carlin. Let’s try not to lose him again.” Great. I gave him away. I just let him go. Cariosity killed the cat.

  Morgan and the Hulk, followed by three agents with heavy guns, ran down the right corridor. After about ten paces the Hulk stopped to listen. The tunnel got a little steeper, running down hill. The concrete was slimy, and he was careful not to slip. Where are you, Emil? What is your game?

  They proceeded another thirty paces, slowly. “He knew we were coming,” muttered the Hulk.

  “That occurred to me, too, ’ said Morgan, r ‘ ‘But what—” Bruce sucked in air as something large and rock-hard lunged from an indentation in the side of the wall. Suddenly he found himself slipping on the slimy concrete with the creature wrapped around him, tumbling with the Abomination down the tunnel. Bruce heard the footsteps of Morgan and the agents in pursuit. ‘Don’t shoot,” Morgan yelled, “they’re wrapped up. Banner, get him off you so we can get a clear shot!”.

  The Hulk grunted and reached out his feet to a rusty iron ladder as he passed it, catching it with his gigantic toes. Finding his balance, he pushed up and slammed Emil against the wall. He backcd up and Morgan fired the trank gun. The dart that flew out was made of a shiny whitish metal, nearly a foot long, more a harpoon than a dart. The

  Abomination ducked and lunged at the Hulk, butting his finned head against Bruce’s chest. The concrete wall cracked and crumbled like plaster as Bruce's head collided with it. God, he’s strong. That actually hurt. Bruce tried to sidestep and got a few inches before Emil brought his knee to Bruce’s solar plexus. The Hulk grunted again and felt his feet slip.

  “This is m3' home, Banner. How many times dol have to best you here before you figure that out?”

  The Hulk went down in the muck but brought his foot up, pressing down with his hands, and felt his heel connect with Emil’s scaly chin. Emil was thrown back this time, tearing away several iron pipes as he passed. The Hulk stepped back as the SAFE agents began firing. Emil caught several rounds in his chest and they slowed him down. He held up a hand and backed up. Morgan fired the trank gun again and the Hulk was clear enough to watch as Emil stood there, at a curve in the tunnel, and smiled.

  And caught the dart. ‘Nice,” said Emil, and he doubled back and threw it. The Hulk heard one of the heavy guns stop firing and clatter to the floor. The agent who had been holding it clutched the giant dart, which now stuck but a few inches out of his chest. “Man down,” Morgan said over the intercom.

  The Hulk looked back to see Emil had disappeared, and then caught a shadow about twenty feet farther down the tunnel, disappearing up a ladder. Suddenly Emil’s head stuck out and he called out, “It’s far from over, Hulk. It’ll be over when I want it to be over. But I’ve given you everything you need to figure it out.” The creature grinned. “And I do hope you figure it out. I want you to be there with me. Friends?”

  KfiBlonsky!” shouted Morgan,.'‘-‘Halt! Stop where you are or I’ll have every last agent under my controi down here flushing you out!”

  “And I’ll kill every last one of them,” hissed Emil.

  The Abomination stopped and stared for a moment, a curious grin on his upside-down scaly face. The Cheshire Abomination. “Sean Morgan,” he said again, slowly. “That is you, isn’t it.”

  Morgan nodded. “It’s me;’’

  “It’s been a long time, Morgan. How’s the leg?” And with that, the Abomination disappeared again, and by the time the Hulk reached the ladder, the creature was long gone.

  The Hulk looked back and saw Sean Morgan kneeling by his wounded agent, already radioing for medical backup. Morgan clicked off his comlink and looked down the tunnel to where Emil had disappeared. His eyes were far, far away.

  Fifteen years ago.

  Say what you will about the two Berlins, Sean Morgan thought, they’re both freezing cold in October.

  Morgan winced as he stepped back onto the street Keep moving. Gonna hurt either way, just keep moving. He looked down and tned to tell if his trouser leg was bulging where he had wrapped his wound or if it was just his imagination. Behind him, a small broken window in the door was the only evidence that he had broken into the clothing store. That, and the missing pair of pants, and the shirt he left on the counter with a sleeve missing. The sleeve he had used to wrap his leg when he discarded his other pants. Keep moving.

  Thankfully, he was not leaving a blood trail. Just a grazing, really, a lucky miss when he managed to move Kiaus Ganz’s arm out of the way just as the gun went off. He had taken six minutes in the store. He was running late, but he had to try to appear unhurried. He pulled his coat closer around him.

  Amazing, the turns life could take. The young Green Beret had been in-a cute little bar in Taormina, Italy, of all places, when he had been approached by the KGB. Maybe he’d like a little extra cash. Something to pad the retirement fund, eh? Just some talk between friends, interested?

  Morgan was very interested. Interested enough to set up another meeting, but not before telling a few spooks about it. So that by the time he was sitting at the amphitheater in Taormina watching a bad rendition of Oedipus Tyrannus, talking to the same Soviet agent, he was already on attached duty to Army Intelligence. The intel guys were pleased with his record and his ambition and wanted him to give it a shot. So Morgan entered the spook

  side at that most dangerous of ports: the double game. That was six months ago.

  Since then he had worked very hard to keep an even keel, watching his back constantly, starting small. He kept bis post and passed a few tidbits along—nothing too obvious nor obviously faked. They had to trust hir to believe that Morgan was willing to sell out his country with whatever he could get his hands on. He also had to be wry careful, because his game was a secret, generally, on the American side as well.

  Morgan managed to develop something of i japport with a few Soviet agents who became his KGB contacts, of sorts. He had to be extremely cautious with them. Klaus Ganz and Karl Josef were cynical enough not to give any trust much weight, and he had been allowed to give some fairly valuable submarine info to them, just to get them to settle down a bit. Blonsky, though, he liked it cold. Blonsky trusted no one.

  Hence the worry about the bulge on Morgan’s calf. Morgan winced and began to step more normally, feeling the pain jag through his leg. The wound
was just deep enough to make walking hurt, just shallow enough that he could fake it.

  East Berlin was a stretch, he had acknowledged that, and had decided to take the risk anyway. Morgan’s superiors concocted some story about, cleverly enough, feeling out the East side of the Iron Curtain in hopes of recruiting a double agent for the United States, Morgan and his KGB contacts had laughed heartily at that, and all the while Morgan had sat with his Scotch and felt his stomach churning, skating close, close to the edge. There were papers leaked that confirmed that he was in East Berlin on the recruiting mission, so that the curious could see. This meant his contacts would trust him and, unfortunately, that anyone else who saw the papers would kill him. Maybe. All that trouble just so no one could catch up to the real, simple assignment, of being in East Berlin to pass along bad info.

  So many ways to get killed, I just don’t know which one to choose.

  Morgan had almost picked one tonight. After a deliberately unsuccessful “recruiting”.'pitch at a strip club where a lot of officers hung out on Saturday nights, Morgan excused himself and headed immediately to meet with Klaus Ganz. He was supposed to meet Ganz at a cafe on Alexanderplatz and proceed west to meet Josef and Blonsky.

  The moment Morgan reached the cafe, he knew Ganz was on to him. They sat there talking, as planned, for thirty minutes, talking in German and English and Russian, by whim, about politics and art and the intellectuals in Paris.1 All the while, Morgan watched Ganz, as both men flapped their mouths. And every time Ganz’s hand went under the table Morgan felt near sure Ganz was going to pull a trigger. Laugh and chatter. Sound natural. At eleven o’clock, they were up and headed for the meeting with Josef ana Blonsky.

  They were walking down Michaelsplatz when Klaus said, very leisurely, i‘‘You know, it’s funny, friend Morgan, these submarines/’

  Morgan made a face that indicated that this was a completely empty statement, requiring no response.