Chapter 6
LONDON, ENGLAND
DEEP IN THE CITY
Dorian stumbled and slipped his way back into his cupboard and nearly fell over his signal apparatus. He had to get word to the League that Maddox was moving ahead of plan. Yanking the headset from its stand, he pulled it on with one hand as he started the process of sending his Morse code. *This is not good, not good. How could he move so fast? It's not possible. If he moves now, at midnight...they don't stand a chance.*
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LONDON, ENGLAND EDGE OF THE THAMES RIVER
They were almost on shore when Allan heard the Morse code signal coming from the transceiver.
"Wait," he ordered. "There's a message coming in."
"I don't hear anything," Skinner said, pausing on his way out of the hatch. "Or am I deaf?"
They ignored the invisible man as Allan pushed himself down the hatch and into the cockpit, where he frantically copied down the signals. He drew a line where there was a pause in the signal:
--|.-|-..|-..|---|-..-| | --|---|...-|..|-.|--.| |-|---|-.|..|-- .|....|-|.-.-| | -..|--.
"What's it say?" Mina asked, looking over Allan's shoulder when he realized that the message was repeating itself.
"'Maddox moving tonight'," Allan replied. "Coming from somebody called DG."
"DG?" Tom asked. "Initials?"
"Perhaps," Allan said. "But we have no time to speculate. We need to send word back to the Nemo first, then go."
"I'll do it," Mina offered, quickly taking the seat next to Allan. Within seconds, the message had been sent to the Nautilus and the four League members were running down the streets of London.
"Reminds of the time when I sent the Morse to you guys," Skinner remembered.
"Hello my freaky darlings," Tom filled in. They laughed as Allan cocked the Winchester and Mina shook her head.
"Men," she muttered. Allan could only offer a shrug as they rounded a corner and stopped.
"Bloody hell," Skinner whispered. The tanks - including the one that prompted Dorian to contact the League - were lined up in front of Buckingham Palace, guns aimed, ready to fire. Next to the tanks, lined in neat rows, were hundreds of iron-clad marksmen and flame-bearers. They were standing in between the fifty-odd tanks, holding their weaponry at ready.
"Oh god," Mina gaped. "We're outnumbered." Allan nodded grimly, and then turned to face his friends. He didn't say anything, but looked at Tom instead.
"Your lead, boy," he said simply. Skinner pulled off his trenchcoat and wiped the greasepaint off. Tom looked into his mentor's gray eyes; eyes that have seen some things that men were never meant to see. Eyes that have seen love, destruction, adventure, and, ultimately, his own death, then rebirth. And in those eyes, Tom saw the confidence and conviction that inspired so many. He also saw the pride and joy in those eyes.
Tom nodded, finally understanding what Allan had in store for him, even when they first met.
"Okay," he hefted the Winchester. "We need a plan."
"Which is why we look to you, o great one," Skinner said, sarcasm dripping heavily from his voice, somewhere to Tom's right.
"Skinner -" Allan started. "Don't make me use this before I have to." He gestured at his own Winchester. Skinner held up his hands in a 'don't- shoot-me' gesture, although he couldn't see it.
Tom had been looking over the number of baddies, doing mental calculations and planning inside his head. "Mina," he said suddenly, pointing to the largest tank. "That seems to be the command post." True, there were several men standing on the top of the tank, which seemed to have its top evened out, as if to form flat ground for a table. There WAS a table there, where three or four of the men were hunched over.
"Indeed," she agreed, turning to look. Since they were hidden in the shadows, the baddies couldn't see them until it was too late.
"I need you to take them out," Tom told her. "Can you do it? Take them hostage or something like that. Not kill them."
She nodded. "Good. Skinner!" Tom barked.
"You called?" Skinner came.
Tom nodded, slipping into authority mode. "You need to take out those ground forces, the ones with the armor and flame bearers."
"And how may I do that without getting myself killed before getting rid of the first hundred, may I ask?"
"Easy," Mina interjected. She removed a box of matches from somewhere inside her dress. "Molotov cocktail." She pointed to the many bottles that lay, empty, on the street, then at the barrels of kerosene hidden in the gloom.
"What?" Allan asked, unfamiliar with the term.
"Molotov cocktail," Mina repeated. "Skinner just needs to fill those bottles with the kerosene and stuff some rags into the bottle mouths, then light the rags up with these matches." She shook the matchbox for emphasis. "We can easily get the rags from around here. We can take care of those armored people because of the ignition the cocktails will no doubt cause and also because the heat inside the armor will be unbearable."
"You forget, Mina," Allan reminded her. "That it just rained, and all the rags will be wet?"
"Oh. Skinner, are you willing to give up the coat?"
"My coat?!" Skinner objected, clutching it to his chest. "No!"
"Skinner," Tom said sternly.
"Here." Skinner handed Mina the coat, then flinched as she ripped it to strips of cloth that would fit in the bottle necks. "That cost me ?4 (#1), you know!"
"Whatever." She handed him the shreds. "Go find the bottles, then fill them with kerosene. Here are the matches." She gave him the matchbox.
"Me and Allan will be snipers," Tom verbalized. "We'll be up there on the buildings." He glanced at the rooftops of the nearby structures. "Skinner, you'll start lighting the cocktails when me and Allan start shooting."
"Understood. You want me to get the flamers or the gunners, first? Truthfully, there's no difference to me."
"Flamers first," Tom ordered. "It'll set the fire off, act as a distraction."
"'kay," Skinner said. Then the bundle of rags that he held was off, bouncing off to look for bottles.
By now, when Tom and Allan turned around, they saw the constables and policemen gathering around the palace gates, ready to defend the Queen.
"I'll give the signal for you to move, Mina," Tom informed her. She gazed into his blue eyes and was off, hiding in the shadows.
"Allan," Tom looked at him. "You take the left" - he pointed - "And I take the right. We'll shoot down as many as we can before Nemo gets here."
"Remember, boy," Allan added. "If you can't do it with one bullet -"
"-don't do it at all," Tom filled in, quoting Allan from their original adventure. Allan nodded his approval.
"I take it that your shooting skills have improved?" he asked, hefting the Winchester.
"Why don't you see for yourself?" Tom challenged.
Together, they ran up to the roofs.
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NAUTILUS ATLANTIC OCEAN, NEAR LONDON
Nemo stood on the bridge of the mighty Nautilus, Jekyll next to him, watching the water rush past them. The message from Mina came in, and Nemo read it out loud to the doctor: "Maddox is already attacking. Get here as fast as possible. Am already moving to stop attack in strike. Waiting for backup. Harker."
"Maddox is ahead of schedule," the doctor said thoughtfully. "Which means that they are already moving to stop him."
"It also means we have to help them," Nemo said to him. "Increase speed to full!" He ordered. Although they were already traveling as fast as he deemed safe, Nemo decided that it was time for drastic measures, even if it meant risking detection.
"Aye, sir!" Someone confirmed. Nemo nodded. He was proud of how his crew reacted under intense pressure: beautifully. After a few voyages with Captain Nemo, death and stress became known on a first-name basis. Under the ocean, you were never sure what could go wrong next.
"We may need Hyde," Nemo told his friend, who sighed and examined the floor as if something interesting were printed on it.
"I don't want to, but if need be..." Jekyll trailed off.
*...Then what good are you?* Dorian Gray's voice came back to haunt the doctor. Almost every night since this adventure began, the scene kept replaying in Jekyll's mind:
'Come on, Jekyll, we need Hyde!' Allan had shouted, jumping onto the automobile.
'No!' Jekyll had answered. 'He won't use me again. Not anymore.'
'Then what good are you?' Dorian had smirked, as they sped off to save Venice.
*What good am I?* he asked himself, shaking his head. Hyde had been silenced a long time ago, and Jekyll saw that as a milestone. He banished the thought quickly. *I'm a doctor. Doctors heal. That's helping people. That's doing good.*
"Doctor?" Nemo asked. "Are you alright?"
"Me?" Jekyll shook his head. "Oh, its nothing. Just excited about this."
Nemo just raised a dark brow.
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LONDON, ENGLAND DEEP IN THE CITY STREETS OUTSIDE THE PALACE
Dorian ran down the street, nearly slipping on the wet ground when he saw his nightmare come true: the attack had started. Well, not really, but the baddies were gearing up to attack. Which was equally bad to starting the attack.
His long, ebony hair was damp, and it fell into his eyes, which was why he thought he was seeing things when he spotted a rag being stuffed into a filled bottle. The bottle, rag, and other similar things were hanging in mid air. Dorian immediately knew who it was after making sure he wasn't hallucinating, and he quickly ducked into a corner.
*I mustn't been seen; knowing Skinner, he'll make a loud fuss about it and then they'll know that there are people here.* he thought, pressing himself as deep into the shadow as possible. *If Skinner is here, then that means the League is here too. Mina...* A voice of longing suddenly called up, stirred from some dark depth within him. He pushed it away; he had to concentrate at the issues at hand. Mina could wait; at least, for a while.
Somewhere inside, a small spark of hope was lighted. If the League was in London, then there was hope yet... hope for the denizens of London, hope for the colonies, more importantly; hope for his redemption.
Dorian glanced around, looking for the rest of them. Allan and Tom were on the opposite rooftops, aiming their guns, almost invisible to the immortal; Skinner was filling bottles for what Dorian assumed where Molotov cocktails; where was Mina? He searched around a bit, but couldn't find her. Perhaps she wasn't there. He couldn't find Nemo or Jekyll. Either they were hiding so good that they were as invisible as a naked Skinner or they weren't there. He opted for the hiding part.
The glimmer of hope grew into a small flame, lighting up his rotten soul. Although he cared about the people under the British Empire, he cared more about the redemption of self.
*Dorian Gray, immortal. Who is right now trying to save London. What a joke!*
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NAUTILUS ATLANTIC OCEAN, CLOSE TO LONDON
Nemo had given the order to get ready the men who would join him and Jekyll on the land attack against Maddox and baddies. Jekyll fingered the elixir vial in his pocket. He was nervous about letting Hyde out again. He ran a finger along the cool surface of the glass, wondering whether Edward would conduct conversations Jekyll had no choice but to listen or participate in, whether the beast would take over him. He didn't want it (who would?) but he knew it was for the greater good that his inner demon would be unleashed. His only concern - well, the main one, anyway - was that Hyde would get out of hand and kill Nemo and the League, along with the baddies. He didn't wish that fate on his friends, those who had accepted him in their own way.
He thought deep about each of the members of the League, had found what he thought made them unique - and it wasn't only their...singular abilities.
Nemo brought technology and weaponry to the League, along with one who could be counted on because of the fealty his men had sworn to him. Nemo was also one of the men who could relate to Jekyll...Nemo lived almost totally isolated from the rest of the world on land and most of those on sea, just as Jekyll did in his own way,
Tom was the one who was the League's young blood, having grown up and matured during the time he spent with the League. His thirst for adventure and young ambition was a constant source of inspiration for Jekyll, amusement for Mina and teasing material for Skinner. Skinner was the typical Cockney thug who lusted after women he had no chance of getting hitched to. Take, for example, his delight in testing Mina's nerves and patience, as evidenced in his brand new hobby: trying to get into her room. If not, then he and his precious sherry could be seen floating around the ship. Actually, you could only see the sherry most of the time. Skinner was limited by avarice and cowardice, but he had proven his mantle more than once. Skinner, like him, was a social outcast, but compensated by being ridiculously noisy and cheeky. He had even forced Jekyll, en route to Africa and Allan's funeral, to confess that he loved Mina.
Mina was the feminine factor of the League, and quite frankly, kept Skinner in line most of the time. Thanks to his efforts to try and get into her room, she had padlocked her door from the inside. She brought to the League the chemistry of love and science. Jekyll had once been in love with her, during their first adventure together. Now, it was mutual respect for her abilities.
Allan: the last of the Great White Hunters, someone who provided them with leadership and insight, strategy and a impeccable aim, and also the worst case of far-sightedness who ever lived. He was the old blood of those in the League, the one who had stopped seeing life as an adventure, until the League was formed.
And lastly, himself.
What did he give the League? Brute force, he knew as much. And that wasn't even him. Did he give science? Maybe, but they had Mina for that. Perhaps it was comic relief. No, that was Skinner. He knew it definitely wasn't bravery or even something close. He served no apparent usage expect for Hyde, and that was something he was not proud of.
Jekyll sighed and Nemo looked at him. Again, Jekyll fingered the vial inside his pocket, hidden away from Nemo. Traced a finger along the cool surface, felt the resolution to help those who could not help themselves strengthen.
Perhaps Hyde would lose control, kill everyone.
Perhaps not. Perhaps he would actually stop and think and do the right thing, Jekyll didn't know. He hoped it was the latter, though.
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#1: four pounds, in case you can't see it.
There! The problem of Jekyll/Mina is fixed! I'm really glad someone
noticed it, because I didn't, not at first. I'm really sorry that this
chapter took such a long time...my modem went crazy and I was away at
camp. Just to let you know, chapter 7 and the rest might not be up for
a long time. My exams are coming and I need to study (duh!). I'll try
and squeeze some time to write and post the chapters, but no
guarantees.
Does anyone know how to do italics? I want to do italics to emphasize
some points in the story, and also to enhance your reading pleasure.
If you know how to do italics, please email me!
LONDON, ENGLAND
DEEP IN THE CITY
Dorian stumbled and slipped his way back into his cupboard and nearly fell over his signal apparatus. He had to get word to the League that Maddox was moving ahead of plan. Yanking the headset from its stand, he pulled it on with one hand as he started the process of sending his Morse code. *This is not good, not good. How could he move so fast? It's not possible. If he moves now, at midnight...they don't stand a chance.*
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-------------------------------------------------
LONDON, ENGLAND EDGE OF THE THAMES RIVER
They were almost on shore when Allan heard the Morse code signal coming from the transceiver.
"Wait," he ordered. "There's a message coming in."
"I don't hear anything," Skinner said, pausing on his way out of the hatch. "Or am I deaf?"
They ignored the invisible man as Allan pushed himself down the hatch and into the cockpit, where he frantically copied down the signals. He drew a line where there was a pause in the signal:
--|.-|-..|-..|---|-..-| | --|---|...-|..|-.|--.| |-|---|-.|..|-- .|....|-|.-.-| | -..|--.
"What's it say?" Mina asked, looking over Allan's shoulder when he realized that the message was repeating itself.
"'Maddox moving tonight'," Allan replied. "Coming from somebody called DG."
"DG?" Tom asked. "Initials?"
"Perhaps," Allan said. "But we have no time to speculate. We need to send word back to the Nemo first, then go."
"I'll do it," Mina offered, quickly taking the seat next to Allan. Within seconds, the message had been sent to the Nautilus and the four League members were running down the streets of London.
"Reminds of the time when I sent the Morse to you guys," Skinner remembered.
"Hello my freaky darlings," Tom filled in. They laughed as Allan cocked the Winchester and Mina shook her head.
"Men," she muttered. Allan could only offer a shrug as they rounded a corner and stopped.
"Bloody hell," Skinner whispered. The tanks - including the one that prompted Dorian to contact the League - were lined up in front of Buckingham Palace, guns aimed, ready to fire. Next to the tanks, lined in neat rows, were hundreds of iron-clad marksmen and flame-bearers. They were standing in between the fifty-odd tanks, holding their weaponry at ready.
"Oh god," Mina gaped. "We're outnumbered." Allan nodded grimly, and then turned to face his friends. He didn't say anything, but looked at Tom instead.
"Your lead, boy," he said simply. Skinner pulled off his trenchcoat and wiped the greasepaint off. Tom looked into his mentor's gray eyes; eyes that have seen some things that men were never meant to see. Eyes that have seen love, destruction, adventure, and, ultimately, his own death, then rebirth. And in those eyes, Tom saw the confidence and conviction that inspired so many. He also saw the pride and joy in those eyes.
Tom nodded, finally understanding what Allan had in store for him, even when they first met.
"Okay," he hefted the Winchester. "We need a plan."
"Which is why we look to you, o great one," Skinner said, sarcasm dripping heavily from his voice, somewhere to Tom's right.
"Skinner -" Allan started. "Don't make me use this before I have to." He gestured at his own Winchester. Skinner held up his hands in a 'don't- shoot-me' gesture, although he couldn't see it.
Tom had been looking over the number of baddies, doing mental calculations and planning inside his head. "Mina," he said suddenly, pointing to the largest tank. "That seems to be the command post." True, there were several men standing on the top of the tank, which seemed to have its top evened out, as if to form flat ground for a table. There WAS a table there, where three or four of the men were hunched over.
"Indeed," she agreed, turning to look. Since they were hidden in the shadows, the baddies couldn't see them until it was too late.
"I need you to take them out," Tom told her. "Can you do it? Take them hostage or something like that. Not kill them."
She nodded. "Good. Skinner!" Tom barked.
"You called?" Skinner came.
Tom nodded, slipping into authority mode. "You need to take out those ground forces, the ones with the armor and flame bearers."
"And how may I do that without getting myself killed before getting rid of the first hundred, may I ask?"
"Easy," Mina interjected. She removed a box of matches from somewhere inside her dress. "Molotov cocktail." She pointed to the many bottles that lay, empty, on the street, then at the barrels of kerosene hidden in the gloom.
"What?" Allan asked, unfamiliar with the term.
"Molotov cocktail," Mina repeated. "Skinner just needs to fill those bottles with the kerosene and stuff some rags into the bottle mouths, then light the rags up with these matches." She shook the matchbox for emphasis. "We can easily get the rags from around here. We can take care of those armored people because of the ignition the cocktails will no doubt cause and also because the heat inside the armor will be unbearable."
"You forget, Mina," Allan reminded her. "That it just rained, and all the rags will be wet?"
"Oh. Skinner, are you willing to give up the coat?"
"My coat?!" Skinner objected, clutching it to his chest. "No!"
"Skinner," Tom said sternly.
"Here." Skinner handed Mina the coat, then flinched as she ripped it to strips of cloth that would fit in the bottle necks. "That cost me ?4 (#1), you know!"
"Whatever." She handed him the shreds. "Go find the bottles, then fill them with kerosene. Here are the matches." She gave him the matchbox.
"Me and Allan will be snipers," Tom verbalized. "We'll be up there on the buildings." He glanced at the rooftops of the nearby structures. "Skinner, you'll start lighting the cocktails when me and Allan start shooting."
"Understood. You want me to get the flamers or the gunners, first? Truthfully, there's no difference to me."
"Flamers first," Tom ordered. "It'll set the fire off, act as a distraction."
"'kay," Skinner said. Then the bundle of rags that he held was off, bouncing off to look for bottles.
By now, when Tom and Allan turned around, they saw the constables and policemen gathering around the palace gates, ready to defend the Queen.
"I'll give the signal for you to move, Mina," Tom informed her. She gazed into his blue eyes and was off, hiding in the shadows.
"Allan," Tom looked at him. "You take the left" - he pointed - "And I take the right. We'll shoot down as many as we can before Nemo gets here."
"Remember, boy," Allan added. "If you can't do it with one bullet -"
"-don't do it at all," Tom filled in, quoting Allan from their original adventure. Allan nodded his approval.
"I take it that your shooting skills have improved?" he asked, hefting the Winchester.
"Why don't you see for yourself?" Tom challenged.
Together, they ran up to the roofs.
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NAUTILUS ATLANTIC OCEAN, NEAR LONDON
Nemo stood on the bridge of the mighty Nautilus, Jekyll next to him, watching the water rush past them. The message from Mina came in, and Nemo read it out loud to the doctor: "Maddox is already attacking. Get here as fast as possible. Am already moving to stop attack in strike. Waiting for backup. Harker."
"Maddox is ahead of schedule," the doctor said thoughtfully. "Which means that they are already moving to stop him."
"It also means we have to help them," Nemo said to him. "Increase speed to full!" He ordered. Although they were already traveling as fast as he deemed safe, Nemo decided that it was time for drastic measures, even if it meant risking detection.
"Aye, sir!" Someone confirmed. Nemo nodded. He was proud of how his crew reacted under intense pressure: beautifully. After a few voyages with Captain Nemo, death and stress became known on a first-name basis. Under the ocean, you were never sure what could go wrong next.
"We may need Hyde," Nemo told his friend, who sighed and examined the floor as if something interesting were printed on it.
"I don't want to, but if need be..." Jekyll trailed off.
*...Then what good are you?* Dorian Gray's voice came back to haunt the doctor. Almost every night since this adventure began, the scene kept replaying in Jekyll's mind:
'Come on, Jekyll, we need Hyde!' Allan had shouted, jumping onto the automobile.
'No!' Jekyll had answered. 'He won't use me again. Not anymore.'
'Then what good are you?' Dorian had smirked, as they sped off to save Venice.
*What good am I?* he asked himself, shaking his head. Hyde had been silenced a long time ago, and Jekyll saw that as a milestone. He banished the thought quickly. *I'm a doctor. Doctors heal. That's helping people. That's doing good.*
"Doctor?" Nemo asked. "Are you alright?"
"Me?" Jekyll shook his head. "Oh, its nothing. Just excited about this."
Nemo just raised a dark brow.
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LONDON, ENGLAND DEEP IN THE CITY STREETS OUTSIDE THE PALACE
Dorian ran down the street, nearly slipping on the wet ground when he saw his nightmare come true: the attack had started. Well, not really, but the baddies were gearing up to attack. Which was equally bad to starting the attack.
His long, ebony hair was damp, and it fell into his eyes, which was why he thought he was seeing things when he spotted a rag being stuffed into a filled bottle. The bottle, rag, and other similar things were hanging in mid air. Dorian immediately knew who it was after making sure he wasn't hallucinating, and he quickly ducked into a corner.
*I mustn't been seen; knowing Skinner, he'll make a loud fuss about it and then they'll know that there are people here.* he thought, pressing himself as deep into the shadow as possible. *If Skinner is here, then that means the League is here too. Mina...* A voice of longing suddenly called up, stirred from some dark depth within him. He pushed it away; he had to concentrate at the issues at hand. Mina could wait; at least, for a while.
Somewhere inside, a small spark of hope was lighted. If the League was in London, then there was hope yet... hope for the denizens of London, hope for the colonies, more importantly; hope for his redemption.
Dorian glanced around, looking for the rest of them. Allan and Tom were on the opposite rooftops, aiming their guns, almost invisible to the immortal; Skinner was filling bottles for what Dorian assumed where Molotov cocktails; where was Mina? He searched around a bit, but couldn't find her. Perhaps she wasn't there. He couldn't find Nemo or Jekyll. Either they were hiding so good that they were as invisible as a naked Skinner or they weren't there. He opted for the hiding part.
The glimmer of hope grew into a small flame, lighting up his rotten soul. Although he cared about the people under the British Empire, he cared more about the redemption of self.
*Dorian Gray, immortal. Who is right now trying to save London. What a joke!*
-----------------------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------------
NAUTILUS ATLANTIC OCEAN, CLOSE TO LONDON
Nemo had given the order to get ready the men who would join him and Jekyll on the land attack against Maddox and baddies. Jekyll fingered the elixir vial in his pocket. He was nervous about letting Hyde out again. He ran a finger along the cool surface of the glass, wondering whether Edward would conduct conversations Jekyll had no choice but to listen or participate in, whether the beast would take over him. He didn't want it (who would?) but he knew it was for the greater good that his inner demon would be unleashed. His only concern - well, the main one, anyway - was that Hyde would get out of hand and kill Nemo and the League, along with the baddies. He didn't wish that fate on his friends, those who had accepted him in their own way.
He thought deep about each of the members of the League, had found what he thought made them unique - and it wasn't only their...singular abilities.
Nemo brought technology and weaponry to the League, along with one who could be counted on because of the fealty his men had sworn to him. Nemo was also one of the men who could relate to Jekyll...Nemo lived almost totally isolated from the rest of the world on land and most of those on sea, just as Jekyll did in his own way,
Tom was the one who was the League's young blood, having grown up and matured during the time he spent with the League. His thirst for adventure and young ambition was a constant source of inspiration for Jekyll, amusement for Mina and teasing material for Skinner. Skinner was the typical Cockney thug who lusted after women he had no chance of getting hitched to. Take, for example, his delight in testing Mina's nerves and patience, as evidenced in his brand new hobby: trying to get into her room. If not, then he and his precious sherry could be seen floating around the ship. Actually, you could only see the sherry most of the time. Skinner was limited by avarice and cowardice, but he had proven his mantle more than once. Skinner, like him, was a social outcast, but compensated by being ridiculously noisy and cheeky. He had even forced Jekyll, en route to Africa and Allan's funeral, to confess that he loved Mina.
Mina was the feminine factor of the League, and quite frankly, kept Skinner in line most of the time. Thanks to his efforts to try and get into her room, she had padlocked her door from the inside. She brought to the League the chemistry of love and science. Jekyll had once been in love with her, during their first adventure together. Now, it was mutual respect for her abilities.
Allan: the last of the Great White Hunters, someone who provided them with leadership and insight, strategy and a impeccable aim, and also the worst case of far-sightedness who ever lived. He was the old blood of those in the League, the one who had stopped seeing life as an adventure, until the League was formed.
And lastly, himself.
What did he give the League? Brute force, he knew as much. And that wasn't even him. Did he give science? Maybe, but they had Mina for that. Perhaps it was comic relief. No, that was Skinner. He knew it definitely wasn't bravery or even something close. He served no apparent usage expect for Hyde, and that was something he was not proud of.
Jekyll sighed and Nemo looked at him. Again, Jekyll fingered the vial inside his pocket, hidden away from Nemo. Traced a finger along the cool surface, felt the resolution to help those who could not help themselves strengthen.
Perhaps Hyde would lose control, kill everyone.
Perhaps not. Perhaps he would actually stop and think and do the right thing, Jekyll didn't know. He hoped it was the latter, though.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------------
#1: four pounds, in case you can't see it.
There! The problem of Jekyll/Mina is fixed! I'm really glad someone
noticed it, because I didn't, not at first. I'm really sorry that this
chapter took such a long time...my modem went crazy and I was away at
camp. Just to let you know, chapter 7 and the rest might not be up for
a long time. My exams are coming and I need to study (duh!). I'll try
and squeeze some time to write and post the chapters, but no
guarantees.
Does anyone know how to do italics? I want to do italics to emphasize
some points in the story, and also to enhance your reading pleasure.
If you know how to do italics, please email me!