Author's Note: Well, hopefully I didn't keep you waiting too long. I don't think I did, but then again, you're the readers, not me… so how would I know? … I have such a talent for rambling, don't I? Anyway, you're not being kept in suspense if you've already read the comic, lol, but no matter. Time for Part 3… where things start to get just that little bit more… (dare I say it?) tense.
LotRseer3350 – I like darkness sometimes. It adds an oddly enticing sense of mystery and drama. Well, the League avoided the fire in the book by simply remaining still on the ground, and in theory, they were close enough to the pit's edge to avoid the beam. They were also low enough. Hyde was mad at the aliens. :) Don't worry, he isn't going to start tearing the League apart… aheh…
TARilus – Thanks for that. Had to explain it somehow, because of the fact that, in the books, he doesn't need his elixir. So I had to think of something. Thanks for the comment regarding the Martians (though I am inwardly thanking Alan Moore and Kevin O'Neill) and about Sawyer – it's taking a lot of planning, but I'm getting there.
Angharad – Oh yes, lots more.
Sethoz – Hehe, holy ostrich :D I am so glad you enjoyed that, Sethoz. Fuzzy feelings? Mina and Tom? In one of my stories?! *looks at her track record* Oh wait… never mind. The dead… yes… I could have gone into much more detail, and despite the rating I've used… I still decided not to. Maybe later. Love the quote… you're quite resourceful with these ;)
Nathan-Daystorm – *feeds you an Oreo cookie* Updating as soon as possible, dear friend! Medicine is good, so long as it's prescribed, lol. Gullivar stuff? Now I'm confused… thanks for the review!
Leigh S. Durron – Edge of the seat already? Wow! Excellent, and thanks!
Raven Silvers – I'm really glad you love it, as you've read the comics. Obviously, from your comment, you enjoy the dialogue I'm using, which I realise now, is simply beautiful, and if you don't believe that yet, wait until a scene later on in this chapter ;)
And here, without any further ado, is Part 3 of Above & Beyond…
* * *
Rodney Skinner was trembling so badly that he was amazed his spectacles remained on his face, whilst his perspiration didn't help the greasepaint much. He knew a reapplication was in order, if at all… he didn't know if he wanted to be seen with the feelings that swelled inside him, betraying his emotions, something that he was not fond of in the slightest.
The League trudged all around him, and he hovered near the back, glancing over his leather-clad shoulder, back towards the pit where the fire had originated… though without being sparked… it had just leapt into life, something so terrifying to Skinner that he closed his eyes… failing in blocking out the images for his invisible eyelids, which were – in turn – transparent. He cursed his curiousity, and greed, for having stolen Griffin's formula in the first place, and tried to keep pace with the others as conversation broke out, tones heavy and voices laced with concern and fear.
"Nemo, that device," Quatermain was saying, "what was it? It's practically sterilised the common." For emphasis, he shoved his boot into the ground, displaying his point. Sawyer moved alongside him quietly, seemingly lost in his thoughts.
Nemo turned his dark gaze upon the hunter and replied, "I do not know. Some invisible beam of heat, perhaps, although the notion seems incredible."
They are aliens from another world, Skinner found himself thinking sarcastically, and wondered where the musing had come from. Bond interrupted further pensiveness by saying in a shaken tone, "It's all incredible. I can barely take it in." He shook his head, perhaps trying to hide the fact that his entire – rather large – body was quaking too. "I… if that thing's truly from another world then…"
"Sir," Mina interjected coldly, venom in her voice, "it hardly appeared Prussian. It is my belief that we must assume the worst and plan accordingly."
"Yes, yes, you're right." Bond nodded feverishly, beads of perspiration on his forehead. "Notify the army and so forth. E… everything's still under control. That creature can't get out of the crater."
Who's he tryin' to convince? Us or himself?
The policemen who had stopped with the carriage that had delivered the League were waiting and watching anxiously to see what had happened on the common not five minutes ago, when the figures started to melt out of the flame lit shadows, silhouetted by the burning trees and bushes, the ground scorched here and there and littered with eerily ashen corpses.
"Oh sod me," one of them muttered with a narrowing of the eyes and a light groan as he sighed, pulling on the bit of the horse that tried to toss its head, tearing the mouth and nose downward sternly. The animal grunted and stamped a hoof. "Look sharp. It's Fatso and his circus of freaks. They're alive."
Obviously doesn't know how loud he's speakin'… flamin' idiot. Mina won't be happy about that. And when Skinner looked in the vampire's direction, she didn't exactly seem thrilled, but appeared willing to hold her tongue in light of the circumstances.
"Mr. Bond, sir?" one of the other officers inquired as he strode forward, holding a kind of lantern aloft, peering out from beneath his helmet. "What happened on the common? We saw the green lights and the fires…"
A growl floated to Skinner's ears, and he glanced warily to Hyde, who narrowed his eyes, so filled with hate and rage. Skinner was suddenly nervous of the large… creature. He wished Jekyll would come back, but knew simple hope would not make it so.
"Everyone's dead," Bond told the officer, trying to keep his voice steady and failing splendidly. "Whatever's in that pit is hostile." He continued quickly, with haste and grand gesturing, "I shall require the carriage back to the city for myself, and nearby lodgings for my associates."
Cheeky bugger… None of the League exactly looked overwhelmed with joy at the news, and glanced to one another questioningly at the statement the man had made.
"There's an inn up the road sir, but-"
"Splendid. Mrs. Harker, Agent Sawyer," Bond began upon turning so quickly that Skinner thought he might overbalance, "these money's should prove more than sufficient to secure overnight quarters for your party." He placed a bag in Mina's hand, and the jingle of coins revived a thirst in Skinner that he forced down… the pouch was so inviting.
"We've been here long enough, Bond," Quatermain growled irritably. "You can't mean for us to spend the night in this god-awful place." Sawyer stood defiantly beside his resurrected mentor, his cap and rifle in his hands, respectively, and narrowed his eyes in agreement with the older man.
"I'll need you to watch the common's perimeter," Bond said in excuse. "At least until I can get the army out here and in position." Striding to the carriage, he rambled on, "Great god, what a mess, 'eh? What a mess. G… good luck to you all." With that, he hauled himself into the carriage, which rocked dangerously, and shut the door, closing off their view of the coward. They all glared after him with their annoyance blazing in their eyes, and sighed for the most part. Mina tossed the bag up in the air once, and caught it soundly in the same hand, shaking her head.
The coach tore off towards the city, the officers riding atop it, the lanterns flickering on the side, and the bureaucrat tucked away inside.
"A vile coward if ever I saw one," Mina hissed, staring after the carriage that thundered away, her blue eyes cold and harsh. Skinner turned his head in her direction, noticing the others all did the same. "Well, I expect we'd best find the inn that the constable mentioned and make ourselves… 'comfortable'."
"Great," Sawyer mumbled sarcastically, glancing in the direction of the common with trepidation on his features, even as they started off down the road, the only living souls within the range of the common, the littered remains burning their way into the League's memories, perhaps forever to remain, and haunt the dreams and nightmares of each and every one, reminders of the failure; the lives they could not save…
* * *
The Bleak House was a small, cosy inn set out at the very edges of London, roughly one mile away from Woking, with 'picturesque' scenery of the woodland and hills – if you could call them that – and quite a bit of wildlife… normally. It was all but nonexistent tonight, after the attack on the common. It was all but silent, a deathly kind of quiet that did nothing to improve the mood of the League as they hovered near the building as Mina Harker negotiated with its owners. They had a small cart piled high with possessions, and a rather bedraggled donkey at the harness, chomping at the bit to get on the move. Its long ears twitched in anticipation, and it wailed in aggravation, eyes wide and alert.
Allan Quatermain kept changing the grip on the Winchester, perhaps for lack of anything better to do. It was either that, or he was inwardly terrified at the sick twist of events. He glanced around him to the others in the small group… unless you counted Hyde. He wasn't exactly small, and could – in no way – be counted as such. He was glancing about, as if to try and find something to take out his aggression on, and Skinner had moved as far away from him as possible. Sawyer kept close to Allan, and the hunter kept a mental note of this. Nemo was stalwartly silent as always… annoyingly so, in fact.
At that moment, Mina returned, no longer holding the small sack of coins, and sighed dramatically. "They say we can do whatever we like with the place." She threw a warning gaze at Hyde, whose shoulders slumped a little, noticeably. Perhaps he had – initially – taken that as an invite for carnage. "They heard about the uproar on the common. They just about to leave anyway."
They looked to one another, as if waiting for someone to make the first move, when Sawyer shrugged, and suggested, "We might as well go inside and choose rooms then. No good standing out here freezing to death."
"It's not that cold," Skinner muttered… and Allan though he ought to know, being the one to walk around sans clothes after all. He was wearing the long leather jacket and trilby, but that couldn't provide much insulation. Allan smiled wanly, and followed the others towards the rather small inn. It was going to be interesting to watch Hyde squeeze through that doorway…
* * *
For some bizarre reason, once inside the inn, Hyde had taken to trying to rearrange the furniture downstairs. It had taken the others quite a while to figure this behaviour out, so Edward had informed them – none too politely, he might add – that he was not a small creature, and needed space. They all fell back into silence after that, splitting off to find accommodation to their liking within the building. Skinner made his presence known behind the bar, and left picking a room until after everyone else was done. Clearly, sleeping wasn't something he planned on doing anytime soon… at least not until after a few sherries, scotches or glasses of wine.
Edward watched all of this with a detached kind of interest, grunting every now and then to remind them he was around. He was glad Henry had been idiot enough to fall onto the vial and break it… he was more likely to last the night if those afterbirth bastards came along and tried to fry them all. The 'good doctor' was actually oddly quiet inside, as though taking the chance to ignore what was going on, and retreat within himself and think. Edward stared out of the window, glancing in the direction of the common with intrigue and an angry curiousity. His musings drifted back to Henry.
Coward, Edward found himself thinking with a grimace. He couldn't bear the thought sometimes… sharing his body and very existence with a meagre being such as Henry Jekyll. But… it was Henry who had given Edward life in the first place… so he supposed he should be grateful.
But he wasn't… and he didn't plan to be any time soon.
* * *
Mina found a room on the one and only upper level of the building, with a pleasant – or as pleasant as it could be in a cheap place like this, not that she minded given the circumstances – bed, where a small black cat was sleeping fitfully. Either that or it was dead, but a stroke over its fur proved that it was very much alive. It arched it back with a slight groan of pleasure, and purred. Mina smiled lightly, sadly, and glanced to the sign that hung above the headrest.
'In God we trust'… Mina huffed quietly, and rolled her eyes, reaching over and unhooking it from the wall, opening a drawer, and tossing it inside before closing it again. She most certainly was not in the mood. The cat watched her with intrigued emerald slits of laziness and discretion, and she wondered if the animal was aware of the immediate danger that had presented itself on the common. The cat blinked slowly, and went back to sleep, curling up.
Taking the lamp, Mina went back down the hall, passing Nemo in his chosen room. He was pulling the mattress this way and that, having removed the sheets and the like. She wondered what he was doing, and he had removed his jacket for once, showing a neatly pressed shirt beneath. She had never seen him without his jacket before, and she raised a brow. Making a small note of the fact, and still curious as to what he was doing – but knowing better than to snoop – she passed on her way, carrying herself silently down the steps once more, and back into the sort of welcome, reception area of the inn. Skinner was positioned rigidly behind the bar, trilby on the counter beside him as he sloshed a beverage in a glass, and then downed it.
Quatermain was admiring the antique guns on the wall, his hands folded over his chest, his dark eyes perusing the items with a critical interest. She had no doubt he could name each and every one of those weapons, but would never venture to inquire and prove herself right. Hyde was staring firmly out of the window, beady eyes never wavering, and she was a little disturbed by his vigilance in watching the common vicinity from such a place. And Sawyer… Tom Sawyer was seated rather dejectedly on the other side of the wooden bar, one elbow up on its surface. He looked deep in thought… or deeply troubled. Their eyes met for a moment, and then she set the lamp down, and walked out onto the porch.
Crossing over the wooden planks underfoot, she took it upon herself to be seated on the sturdy oaken bench outside the door. Settling back into its somewhat uncomfortable backrest, she let her blue eyes wander skyward, where the stars blazed mysteriously, as if hiding secrets and letting them out piece by piece, with a twinkle and a slight flare every now and then, arranging them in a puzzle before Mina Harker for her to rearrange. Sighing, she let her mind wander also.
* * *
Tom Sawyer lifted his eyes from the floor, seeing the clear, crystalline blue of Mina Harker's own looking back at him. They locked for a moment, never swaying, before she walked out of the door, looking forlorn and somewhat lost… something quite frightening in a vampire, he realised. He wasn't aware that she could appear so… so subtlely distraught. Perhaps she felt what they all did, except deeper inside, buried beneath the surface, locked away for later registration and release, so she could not be perceived as weak or… human. His youthful brow furrowed for a moment, and he tried to make up his mind what to do, irritated by the loud ticking of the grandfather clock that stood near to Quatermain, with a cat perched atop it, its amber eyes watching the room.
Let's see… tough choice. Sit here and watch Skinner drink himself into unconsciousness… or go outside and try to talk with Mina. Mind made up within an instant, he quietly and slowly stood from the single stool, and crossed towards the door. Quatermain took him by the arm, and looked deep into the young man's eyes, as if searching for something.
"All right, Sawyer?"
Tom nodded, feigning indifference, at the risk of appearing cold and inhumane. "I'm fine." Quatermain watched his expression for a moment, but from experience undercover, he had learned to bury it for a short time, and pushed it all down until he was alone, and then his fear would be allowed to manifest and torment him… undoubtedly, all night.
He hovered in the doorway, seeing Mina sitting on the bench, and was suddenly reluctant to approach. She had to know he was there, but she was not showing it, and he wasn't sure what to make of that. It was either a silent invitation, or a mute request to be left alone. Tom tried to decide between the two, and for a few seconds, seriously considered just going to bed… as in, going to the room he had found and laying on the mattress for about six hours, afraid to close his eyes for the images he would find waiting for him.
Optimism… you're the resident optimist, remember? And so it was that he cleared his throat discreetly, took in a breath, and stepped resolutely forward, saying in query, "Mind if I join you, Mrs. Harker?"
Mina's azure gaze lifted into his emerald one, and she replied, "Not at all." She hesitated, and then lowered her eyes, before raising them to the heavens once more, saying, "Although I may not be the most 'sparkling' of companions tonight, I'm afraid." Quietly, she added, "I think I might be… a little shocked."
Tom chose that moment to lower onto the bench next to her, leaving a space between them, though he wasn't sure why. He had an almost instinctual urge to move closer, but something deep down inside kept him from doing so. He stayed at a slight distance. "To be honest," he began pensively, lifting his head to see what it was she found so distractingly fascinating, "I think we all are. Up in my room… a little while ago, I…"
This was going to be one of the hardest things he had ever admitted, but he just steeled his resolve, lowered his gaze, and forced out, "… I started shaking like a leaf." He glanced momentarily to her, to find her still staring upwards, her eyes filled with an unreadable light. "I just can't believe it."
"Yes," she practically whispered, her voice light and airy, as if painful to use. "I was just looking at the sky…" She shook her beautiful head back and forth, a few locks of her auburn-tinted hair falling from their trappings as she sighed. "It just struck me that… well, that it won't ever be the same after this." She pulled in a breath. "It can't be…"
Tom's heart went out to her. He had never seen her like this. The only time other than this, when he had ever seen fear in the vampire, had been on the Nautilus, when they had faced their deaths from the explosion and imminent pressure damage… they were nearly crushed and drowned. Other than that… he couldn't really remember anything, and it was a little daunting to be seated so close to someone so fearless… yet so consumed by terror.
"I always thought of it as something that sheltered humanity, but now…" She hesitated here, as if thinking her continuation over with great care and precision, as though it could cause damage if delivered incorrectly. "It frightens me, Agent Sawyer… it frightens me."
Tom shivered, though not from the cold. She had admitted it to him… Mina Harker had admitted a basic human, weak emotion, to Tom Sawyer… perhaps the least extraordinary of all the Gentlemen. He didn't know whether to feel awed, blessed… or intimidated. Perhaps a combination of all three would nicely cover his bases.
He nodded at what she had said, sympathising with her for the most part, though not entirely understanding the magnitude of her own emotion. "It's like I said on the common… it all reminds me of a dream I had once. I… I think you were in it too." Glancing to her, he saw her head was no longer tilted upward, but angled in his direction. But she was not looking at him… but beyond him. He faltered for a moment, lost in the situation, before he heard the marching.
Glancing in the direction it originated from, he could make out vague shapes approaching. "What is that?" he asked Mina, looking to her briefly.
"They're coming from Horsell, I believe," she replied quietly, brow knitted, as she rose from the bench. Tom followed her lead, and the two strode in the general direction of the dirt road, well trodden, its condition only to improve in that area as a brigade of men came pacing in formation along it. They carried rifles at their left shoulders, and wore identical red and white uniforms, with helmets of black and burnished gold.
The army.
"Ah," said a formal sounding gentleman from atop a proud chestnut horse, which held itself regally and with equine grace. "You must be the military intelligence folks we were told to expect."
Tom narrowed his eyes in confusion. He figured Bond had spoken to them. He hadn't expected them so soon.
"Major Horatio Blimp at your service," the officer replied, and it was all Tom could do not to snicker at the name.
Keep it bottled, Sawyer…
"This mob are from Inkerman barracks, sent to guard the common," Blimp continued, saluting briefly. Neither Mina nor Tom returned it, only regarded the man curiously as he continued, "Hear we've got a hole there. Dashed big mice around these parts, what?"
Tom cringed at the extravagant accent, realising he had never really heard one so badly accentuated with exaggeration before. "It's not a mouse," he finally said, unable to hold back a comment for any longer, and he noticed Blimp looked immediately in his direction. He was surprised by Tom's voice and accent no doubt, and Tom flashed him a humourless grin. Blimp raised a brow suspiciously, and the American quickly decided he didn't like the soldier very much. His horse snorted and stamped a hoof, receiving a sharp tug on the thin reins to keep it content.
Tom frowned slightly at the mistreatment, and heard Mina continue along the American's track, though with more care and discretion as to the explanation and correction, "The hole contains something far deadlier than a mouse. I wouldn't go near it. Are any other troops expected?" She attempted to sound casual on the last note, but Tom – for one – could detect her gentle plead.
"I should say so," Blimp replied pompously, his chin jutting out, his helmet strap appearing too tight all of a sudden with the jerky movement. He carried himself – even on horseback – in such an irritating manner, that Tom was tempted to yank the man from the saddle. "There's a company marching up through Chobham, to cover the common's north edge." Blimp regarded them somewhat thoughtfully for a moment, shifting in his seat. "Also, I gather that about now, the Cardiff regiment are setting out from Aldershot. They'll have maxim guns." He seemed comforted by this last fact, but Tom and Mina gazed at one another as if to say silently through a shared look 'the man is an idiot'.
"I see," Mina replied bluntly, with a lifting of one feminine brow, pulling on one lapel of her jacket for a moment. "Well, carry on, Major. I hope your resources are sufficient to the task, for your sake." She let all of the seriousness of the situation trickle into her tone along the sentence, and by the time she reached the last three words, it was heavy with foreboding. Blimp shifted in the saddle again, causing it to creak, even as his regiment marched forward again, in perfect formation and pace with one another, never batting an eyelid at the exchange and apparent dilemma. Mina brushed a nonexistent specimen from her jacket, meeting the officer's inquiring gaze once more, to add sinisterly, "For all our sakes."
"Don't you fret, ma'am."
Glancing to Mina showed Tom that she was less than overjoyed with that reassurance, and he thought for a moment that a hint of red flickered into being, before being expertly concealed. He knew she despised being conceived as a typical woman of their era… weak, feeble and unaware of the times. Mina was anything but.
"It'll all be over come Monday morning. Cheerio." And with that, Blimp gave a swift kick with the stirrups, sending the chestnut forward in an elegant trot to catch up with the marching procession. Tom and Mina looked on after them until they were just about out of sight, and definitely beyond earshot.
"I have a terrible feeling," Tom muttered, "about those men." He glanced to his left, to his companion. Her gaze had not left the retreating regiment. "Most of them are going to die… aren't they?"
Without confirming – though he knew she was internally – Mina sighed, and said, "Let's go back inside. It's turning rather chilly for the time of year… don't you think?"
Something was disturbing her, he could tell. She wasn't one to comment on the weather. Silently, and stoically now, she turned with a tug on her jacket again, and headed back towards The Bleak House. Tom blinked slowly, frowned, and then followed.
* * *
Nemo and Quatermain had scattered an unused box of matches across the tabletop in the corner, for blatant lack of playing cards, and were silently arranging them into preordained shapes. The hunter followed the scientist's lead, and the 'pirate' did not speak a word.
The thief held a glass of scotch protectively in one gloved hand, staring out of the open doorway. The vampire held a glass of wine, for lack of anything more to her taste and well in control of her urges to anything other than the sensible thing. The spy was slumped into a chair in the corner, facing the ceiling, with a cat on his lap. It slept silently; tail flickering every few moments as if in a dream. Every now and then, he would run a palm subconsciously over its back. And the beast… Hyde stared out of the window, and showed no signs of immediate transformation. They were all inwardly concerned that the man that was normally Henry Jekyll was stuck somehow, unable to revert to his outwardly peaceful – if not nervous – shell of medicinal professionalism… instead of brutality and eagerness for violence.
The clock ticked loudly, as Nemo started to move matches into letters, Quatermain slipping one in here and there, as if the two were playing at some cheap imitation of a jigsaw puzzle.
All this business was fascinating… if not entirely peculiar, and something Captain Nemo thought he would never – in all his years – experience or witness. He wasn't exactly thrilled about it, but he was interested in seeing what transpired so long as nothing devastating came of it… of course… it was already too late for that. The creatures – aliens as they seemed to be – had already mindlessly slaughtered a common filled with innocent people. He tried to convince himself that the fact they were British did not matter… and that he should still be terribly distressed by the murder. Something lingered in the back of his troubled mind, telling him that perhaps it was best to… cull the herd, as it were.
"Snot with arms."
Everyone immediately glanced in the direction of the owner with the gruff, harsh, rasping voice, seeing Hyde shift ever so slightly. "That's what they looked like."
Nemo tilted a brow upward, and sighed indistinguishably. He was starting to feel rather awkward in the room with the rest of the League, and the heavy atmosphere.
"All that buggering noise and clanging from the common," Hyde pressed on, irritated from the sound of his voice. "If I listen to much more, I'll cripple something."
Skinner looked nervously to the brute, and Tom regarded Nemo with a mild hint of concern. His eyes strayed to the Winchester nearby, and then the purring cat. Its tail lifted… and fell.
"I thought that racket was the army preparing," Quatermain commented, looking down at the word 'nine' spelt out on the wooden tabletop between him and Nemo.
"An army perhaps," Nemo began, words laden with consideration, "but not ours."
The weight of the words fell upon the collected League, and they took a moment to let their meaning sink in and take affect. They all remained quiet, as Nemo persisted, "England has no device that sounds like that while under construction. Even I have nothing that sounds like that."
It was an awful noise, like a cacophony of pained instruments; working together to disturb anyone close by, twist their hearts into terrified masses in the chest cavities of humans who were so susceptible to such troubling emotions.
Mina turned, her wine glass in her hand, and asked, "Do you suppose the creature is building something, then, Captain?" She stood, poised perfectly as always, and Nemo regarded one of the only women he had ever respected as an equal for intelligence, prowess and ingenuity. She truly was a remarkable individual, and not only because of her vampirism.
"I would think that very likely," he revealed. "In its position, I would no doubt be assembling some means of leaving the crater. If it-"
"Great Christ and all his angels…"
"Skinner?" Mina turned to regard the invisible thief, as he stood, glass lowered, in the doorway, staring with wide sockets for eyes. The League all approached, notoriously curious. "What is it?"
"Aheh," he began, shakily, nervously, "I really couldn't say. Best you look for yourselves." He indicated with a gloved finger out of the doorway, pointing to the sky… as a great golden, gleaming comet of fire rocketed overhead. They all pushed through the door, standing outside The Bleak House and gaping at the sight.
"I… is that…?" Mina faltered.
"It's another cylinder," Tom said, letting his disbelief flood his voice, glancing to the others.
"It looks like it's falling towards Woking," Quatermain divulged, his tone flat and unusually emotionless.
Hyde grunted, looming between them all, staring at the falling object. "Long way to come just to conquer Woking."
"I fear," Nemo began heavily, "My. Hyde, that should any more of these tin cans topple from the sky… then we may all find ourselves on the losing side."
No one saw Skinner drop his scotch glass, eyes fixed.
* * *
By the hour of three, most everyone was in bed… not necessarily asleep, but thereabouts. Save for two members of the League. One being a vampire, and the other… she had yet to discover. She passed all of the bedrooms on the way, and glanced in to the gaping doorways. The first contained Allan Quatermain and Captain Nemo, who had taken the largest room, and used the twin beds to their advantage. Mina guessed it was so they could discuss tactics and the like, out of earshot, as they preferred.
Men…
The second was Rodney Skinner's, where she could make out the vague shape of a body under the blankets. She could not hear his breathing… but then, he was a thief, so she supposed his stealth was second nature by now.
Tom Sawyer was beyond that, sleeping restlessly, tossing and turning a little, here and there, with the same cat curled up at the foot of the bed, away from the shifting movement of the young American. She guessed he was having trouble sleeping, with the sight they had seen recently… and did not blame him. She couldn't have managed a wink of sleep, not even if she had actually tried.
The final room she came across belonged to Henry Jekyll – no, Edward Hyde. Jekyll was… still absent, and this was concerning her. Perhaps the elixir had leaked into his blood stream, and infected his –
"I know you're there."
Mina started slightly, cursing her distraction, and glanced in the wanly lit doorway.
"I can smell you," Hyde continued, sitting stiffly on the end of the shallow bed, staring straight ahead with his hands pressed together in between his bent knees. "You couldn't sleep either, hmm?" With a gruff jerk of his head to one side, he continued, "You might as well come in. I'm not doing anything in particular."
Mina hesitated, unsure as to whether or not this was such a good idea, and then threw caution to the wind, entering the opening, and the room of Edward Hyde. She knew it was rare for him to invite someone into his presence without being pressured to do so, and wondered whether Jekyll had inwardly pleaded for some company other than his – at the moment, dominant – alter ego.
"Just for a moment, then," Mina acknowledged, and took a chair from against the wall. "I had thought it your custom to repel companionship?"
Hyde grunted, narrowing his scheming eyes for a moment. "It's just the thieves and miscreants and lunatics that I can't stand." A pause. Quieter now. "You're all right."
Mina settled herself down unsurely, still curious as to how she would fare in combat with Hyde, but not eager to discover the answer for herself… at least not anytime soon. "I fear that you are somewhat harsh, sometimes, Mr. Hyde. What makes you think me any better… especially when you have seen my demons?"
"Call me Edward." Hyde sighed at length, never taking his eyes from the wall opposite as he said, "I don't know. Frankly, it confuses me and makes me furious with you."
Mina had positioned the chair directly in front of Edward Hyde, and watched him with intrigued curiousity.
"Sometimes I think I should just… behead you." It seemed he had been going to add something before the mention of mutilation, and she was somewhat thankful for the lapse. "But a voice in me still fiercer than my own tells me if I did… that I must next take my life." A narrowing of the ever-intelligent eyes showed his consideration of all this. "It's puzzling."
Mina narrowed her own blue eyes, and looked up at the 'beast' with a newfound respect. He was much more than he seemed at first sight, and now that she had heard something of his thoughts, she was compelled to learn more.
Ever the scientist, she thought subconsciously.
"Perhaps it is that I would then have killed the only living thing that did not fear me. Do you think that's it?"
"You would be mistaken, sir," Mina corrected with a single shake of her head, keeping her voice flawlessly steady. "I do fear you… sometimes very much."
"Perhaps," Hyde acknowledged thoughtfully, his face darkening for a moment. "Perhaps you do. But not like all the others. I believe you do not hate me. I believe you have perhaps – if not definitely – met someone… worse than me." He met her gaze, and held it solidly. "Would that be right?"
Mina's hand – of its own accord seemingly – found the puncture marks beneath her tall blouse collar, as she quietly released an affirming, "Yes."
"I thought as much," Hyde said coldly. "Mrs. Harker… though I am a beast, do not think that I am stupid. I know that I am hideous and hateful. I am not loved, nor ever hope to be. Henry is quite in the same belief as I am, and we have that alone in common."
Mina moved to interject, but Hyde swiftly pressed on.
"Nor am I fool enough to think that what I feel… for you… is love."
Dear god…
"But in this world, alone, I do not hate you…" He stopped, and she thought she saw compassion in those normally hateful eyes. "… And alone, in this world, you do not hate me."
He had laid his hand underneath hers, and she felt without realising all the little lines and scars that marred his flesh. Her eyes stared into his in shock at the revelation, and she did not know what to do with herself. Henry… she would have expected – and maybe that had been the doctor's influence – but Hyde…?
"I… I would be grateful if you left me now," Hyde suddenly told her, and pulled his hand out from under hers. "Go quickly, before I break your jaw." His voice had descended into a rough grumble, and she soon heeded his plead, rising from her seat, and striding silently from the room. She did not close the door on her way out, for fear of what he might do if completely shut out.
Once out in the corridor, she drew in as deep a breath as she could possibly manage, letting it out and feeling its unsteadiness. Blinking once… twice, she shook her head slowly back and forth, and pushed away from the wall, heading back to her room, ignoring the odd smell coming from Skinner's room as she passed it.
In that there was none…
* * *
Green smoke wafted on the horizon, and horses whinnied in terror in the far distance, as if gripped by the devil's hands himself, before the killing blow. Soldiers were yelling orders and questions to one another, but they fell on death ears.
Well… invisible ears, anyway. Footsteps without visible origin landed in the disturbed dirt ground, pacing around the twisted skeletal remains of the poor souls from earlier the previous day, and silence followed in their wake.
Descending into the pit was the most hazardous part of the task, and once, he almost slipped, grapping a weak branch that snapped, but gathering his footing in time to avoid a nasty fall.
"Shit."
Pressing on, determined yet still anxious, he moved closer to the glowing canister that was the creature's vessel. Green light was ebbing from within, and off to one side he saw his target… targets rather, in that there were two of the buggers now. They really were ugly specimens, and he grimaced, so very thankful that – despite their unearthly origins – they would not see the expression of disgust. No matter… he pressed on.
"Aheheh… good evening." His voice permeated the eerie silence that dominated, and one of the two creatures made a low, guttural noise of displeasure at the intrusion.
"There, now, don't get upset," he told it, tutting and shaking his head. He crouched down to the dry, sandy ground, and ran a finger in a circle upon it, creating a sphere. "I'm going to draw you a picture." He spoke slowly, his accent accentuating certain words… but he spoke as if to a child, afraid that perhaps they would misunderstand and perceive him as a threat.
"There. Something even lumps of afterbirth like you should understand." Upon the floor of the pit below him, between himself and the two aliens, he had drawn a collection of circles in a line. There were five altogether, and the one to the creatures' left was intended to represent the sun, being largest by far. The other four were similar, representing the first four planets in the solar system. Mercury. Venus. Earth. Mars.
"See? There's the sun, then Mercury, Venus, Earth and Mars." Over the third circle from the sun, he drew a crude stickman. "Out of the Earth come us chaps." Above the fourth and final, a circle with tentacles. "Out of Mars come you chaps."
They had better be getting all this.
"Now, here's me." He drew a second stickman. "I'm one of us chaps."
And then he wiped it away. "… But you can't see me." He smiled, feeling he was making progress. "Aheheh."
"Now, here's what I think: you're going to give mankind a good dusting down." He traced his index finger in a harsh cross through the still-present stickman. "And you're going to win." He looked up at them, and was delighted to see that they were watching his every move, as though fascinated, like a dog with a bone waving before it enticingly. "Aheheh. With me so far?"
Grinning, he pushed on, eager now, and excited. "You're going to rule the Earth." He drew another quick alien above the planet representing the one they stood on at that very moment. "Look! I've drawn a little afterbirth above the Earth, ruling it." There was still a slight smudge where he had wiped his own picture away. "You see? Just there… next to me."
His grin spread unbelievably wide across his invisible face as he took in the sight of the transfixed aliens he had managed to avoid his deaths from, even as more started to squirm onto the scene.
"You're going to rule the Earth next to me."
