Hellboy: Odd Jobs by Christopher Golden & Mike Mignola

Author:Christopher Golden & Mike Mignola [Golden, Christopher & Mignola, Mike]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Science Fiction
Publisher: Dark Horst
Published: 2011-05-14T05:23:59+00:00

in his rocky grasp, crushing them as easily as he would a balsa-wood airplane. Ignoring the pain in the base of his spine, he then hurled the Cailleach into the open maw of the disused furnace.

Carefully switching his precious burden to the crook of his right arm in order to free up his left hand, Hellboy reached into one of the leather pouches on his belt and removed a small metal sphere.

"Heads up, girlfriend!" he barked, lobbing the activated thermite bomb into the furnace as the Cailleach struggled to free itself, then promptly turned his back and hunkered down tight, wrapping his tail completely around himself. There was a bright flash, followed by intense, searing heat, and a last, dreadful scream from the Cailleach Bheuh, then the stink of burning hair and roasting flesh.

A second later Hellboy opened his eyes and stood up, frowning at the small inferno that surrounded himself and his young charge. He'd forgotten about the trash that filled the basement, which had instantly caught fire.

For the first time since awakening from his trance, the child in Hellboy's arms began to move, whimpering like a frightened baby animal.

"Hold on, kid," he said, trying his best to sound calm. "Hold on I'll get us out of this

somehow."

The flames surrounding Hellboy suddenly lowered, then snuffed themselves out as abruptly as the gas ring on a range.

"Your friendly neighborhood pyrokinetic, at your service," Liz Sherman said, poking her head through the hole in the basement roof. The attractive young fire-manipulator was kneeling on the ragged edge of the hole, shaking her head in mock dismay. "What would you do without me to save your big red tail, Hellboy?"

"Roast like a chicken on a spit, I guess," Hellboy replied with a wry smile. "I was beginning to wonder when you guys would get here."

"We'd have been here sooner, but you try and get a surveillance van out of mid-town this time of day," Liz said, snorting in disgust. A look of concern crossed her face as she noticed the child clutched in his arms for the first time. "Oh, Jesus

the kid? Is he

?"

"Alive? Yeah. But he's in shock."

Liz quickly motioned for a paramedic team which was hovering behind her to move forward. Hellboy held the child over his head, handing him off to the emergency rescue workers, who quickly whisked the boy out of sight.

"You need help getting out of there, big guy?" Liz asked.

"Naw

I'll be out of here in a jiffy

there are some stairs down here that look like they lead to the street.

They're padlocked

but that's not a problem."

Less than a minute and a strong shoulder later, Hellboy was standing on the sidewalk. There were several NYPD cruisers and ambulances lined up along the street, their red-and-blue emergency lights throwing garish-colored shadows in the gathering dark. The look on those well-seasoned professionals' faces as they saw the horrors that lay within was one Hellboy was all too familiar with.

"Hellboy!"

The Professor was standing on the curb by the BPRD's tracking van, an oversized thermos of espresso coffee in hand.

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