Страница 43 из 90
I hated to agree with the a
“You armour up and he’ll run,” said the Blue Fairy. “And you’ll never catch him in the dark.”
“I’m still not too happy about letting that thing get too close,” said Walker. “Hydes live to kill.”
“I know an industrial spy we can hide behind,” said Honey.
A sound came to us from out of the dark. It might have been a growl, or a chuckle. Something about the sound made my hairs stand on end. No man ever made a sound like that, nor any kind of beast. There was a touch of Hell itself in that sound, and the Hyde knew it and gloried in it.
“Well,” said Walker. “I was hoping to save the last vestiges of my Voice for a real emergency, but . . .” He stepped forward and addressed the dark directly in front of the Blue Fairy. “You. Come here.”
I shuddered at the sound of his Voice. I think we all did. It was Walker’s legendary Voice that could not be argued with or disobeyed. Some say it contained vestiges of the original Voice. The one that said, Let there be light. I didn’t like to believe that. It would have opened too many questions as to just where Walker got his Voice from . . . The dark itself seemed to hesitate, as though struggling, and then the Hyde came lurching forward into the firelight, drawn forth against his will like a dog on a leash or a fish on a hook. He lurched forward another step, fighting every inch of the way, hating us all, but still he came and stood before us.
He was clearly a man, but just as clearly something more and less. He was taller than any of us but seemed shorter because he was so stooped over. His great overmuscled back rose up into a hump, and his square bony head thrust out at the level of his chest. He glared at us all with bloodshot eyes from under heavy protruding brows. Long ragged jet black hair hung down around a fierce, ugly face full of every sin man ever contemplated. His clothes were rags, torn and tattered and soaked with blood not his own. His huge hands were thickly crusted with dried blood, like horrid gloves reaching up to his elbows. Elsewhere his skin was flushed, stretched taut, full of pulsing blood. His eyes were deep set, watchful, crafty, and he smiled a cold happy smile, full of all the evil in the world.
Just to look at him was enough to make you want to kill him. Just the sight of him filled me with disgust, hatred, loathing: a basic primordial need to attack and destroy something that shouldn’t exist in this world. Something too horrid to be borne, an abomination on the earth. Standing before us, he was all the forbidden needs and impulses of man made flesh and blood and bone and let loose in the world. All the worst actions that a man could conceive of without conscience or compassion or any fear of consequences. All the most evil men in the world, and there have been so very many of them, were just glimpses of the Hyde within.
I could feel my torc burning coldly around my throat as though trying to protect me from the contamination of the creature’s presence.
Almost instinctively, the five of us had moved to form a circle around the Hyde, like hunters with a prey too dangerous to be allowed to escape, though none of us wanted to get too close. I could see the same confused expressions of fear and loathing in the faces of the others, see their hands clenched into fists, twitching and jerking, wanting to reach for weapons. Or maybe just to kill the awful thing with their bare hands. I knew what they were feeling, because I felt just the same.
The Hyde stood very still, half crouching like an animal, his eyes darting back and forth though his head never moved, searching out which of us was the weakest and most vulnerable. The one it would be most fun to torment. His crafty eyes finally settled on Honey, the only woman in our company, and her dark coffee face went stiff and taut under the impact of his loathsome gaze.
“Pretty pretty,” said the Hyde in a voice smooth as silk, sweet as cyanide. “So good of you to come visit me in my backyard kingdom. I like you. You look good enough to eat.”
“Shut your filthy mouth,” said Honey. Her voice wasn’t as firm as usual. She couldn’t hide the revulsion she felt.
“Change back,” Walker said to the Hyde. “Become human again.”
But though his words cracked on the night with all the authority of a man used to being obeyed, it wasn’t enough. They were just words. He’d used up all his Voice. The Hyde laughed soundlessly at him.
“What’s your name?” I said. He looked at me, and the force of his gaze was like a backhand across the face.
“Names,” he said. “Why, sir, does plague have a name? Does rape or torture, cancer or senility have a name or identity? I am what I am, and I glory in it. I’ll trample you all beneath my feet, rip the flesh off your bones, and stick my dick in all the holes I make.”
“Your name,” I said. “Tell me your name.”
“You mean, who I was, good sir? Forget him. He doesn’t matter. He never did. But I matter. I will do terrible things until the world sickens from my very presence. I will wade in blood and offal and sing happy songs, and I will make children from every woman I meet, because I am a very potent nightmare. I will people this land with Hydes, remake this rotten world in my awful image, and love every minute of it. My name? Edward Hyde, at your service, sir, and this is Hell nor am I out of it. The old jokes are always the best, are they not?”
His smile was very broad now, and I hated him more than I had ever hated anyone.
“How does it feel?” said Peter, fighting to keep his voice steady. “How does it feel, to be Hyde?”
The Hyde studied him curiously, and Peter actually flinched. “I am this thunder, this lightning,” said the Hyde. “I teach you this: man is something to be overcome. I . . . am the tumour in the brain, and the wind that uproots trees, and the thing that hides under your bed at night. And I love it. It is a glorious thing to be free of fear, to be the thing that everyone else fears. Oh, my dear sirs and madam, you have no idea how good this feels . . . to throw away the constraints of man and all the chains society binds us with to hold us down. To be free at last, because the only real freedom is the freedom to do anything . . .” He laughed soundlessly again. “I am everything you’ve ever wanted to be but didn’t dare admit to yourself. I will do what I will do, and none of you can stop me. And when they finally find what’s left of your bodies and see what I’ve done to them . . . they’ll cry and puke and scream their minds away.”
He broke off because Honey’s shimmering crystal weapon was suddenly in her hands. Her lips had pulled back in a deadly smile like a death’s-head grin. The Hyde giggled suddenly: a harsh, high-pitched, soul-destroying sound. And then he surged forward impossibly quickly, just a blur in the firelight. He slapped the weapon contemptuously out of Honey’s hand and threw her to the ground with a single vicious backhand slap. Blood from her mouth and nose flew on the air. She hit the ground hard.
Walker was pulling an Aboriginal pointing bone from his waistcoat pocket. Peter was drawing a large handgun from a concealed holster. The Blue Fairy was chanting a curse at the Hyde, old elf magic . . . but his voice was a deep slow crawl. Because I had armoured up the moment the Hyde started moving, my golden armour sealing me in and insulating me from the almost subliminal effects of the Hyde’s presence, I could think clearly now, no longer blinded by the impact of his foul nature.
I still hated him just as much.
I surged forward to meet the Hyde, my armour moving me so fast the world slowed to a crawl. Even so, he sensed me coming and turned away from Honey to face me. Which was what I wanted. I fell upon him, my fists slamming into him like golden hammers. Blood flew from the Hyde’s face as I turned it into pulp. I felt as much as heard bones in his face and skull break and splinter. The Hyde didn’t give an inch. He struck at me with fists like mauls, but the force of his blows merely smashed his hands against my unyielding armour. He had the strength of his terrible condition and the conviction to fight without restraint, but in the end he was still mostly a man, and the armour made me so much more than that.