by Alex Irvine
“Alpha Team, let him have all of it,” Ross ordered.
A barrage of automatic weapons fire peppered the Hulk’s right side, the bullets ricocheting off his skin in all directions. He flung up one arm and turned, seeing Alpha Team: six soldiers with assault rifles near the metal sculpture, arrayed around a tripod-mounted machine gun.
The Hulk raised his hand like a shield and charged toward the fire team. Another fusillade pounded into his palm and raked down his legs. But he didn’t stop storming ahead. The soldiers scattered as he got closer.
Ross’s rangers grabbed Betty, who was stunned by what she was seeing. Quickly, they hustled her away.
Ross swore softly, watching as the giant moved in the wrong direction. “Where are the .50-cals?” he roared. “Move!”
Two vehicles with roof-mounted .50-caliber machine guns roared into view and accelerated to cut the Hulk off from his approach to the sculpture.
The first pulled up alongside the giant, and the gunner opened fire. The Hulk veered to his left, driving his shoulder into the vehicle and tipping it into a spectacular rolling crash. The roof gunner jumped free and tumbled across the grass. The second vehicle headed straight for him as he got closer to Alpha Team, still holding their position in and around the sculpture.
Hearing the vehicle’s engine approach, the Hulk pivoted and stomped a foot down on its hood. It jacked up like a skateboard, its front wheels and bumper driven into the ground.
The Hulk heaved it into the air, shaking the soldiers loose. He smashed the wrecked vehicle into the sculpture, tearing it to pieces. Its engine fell near his feet. Thunder cracked across the sky as the Hulk roared and flung the engine at the other line of vehicles, smashing them into one another in a giant explosion.
“Blonsky! Now you’re up!” Ross barked.
“Cover me,” Blonsky said. He shouldered a grenade launcher and marched steadily toward the monster, firing as soon as he was clear of his own lines. The first grenade hit the creature square in the the back of his head, and he roared in surprise when it exploded. Then another detonated against the backs of his legs. But even though the grenades rocked the giant, they didn’t take him down.
Peppered by bullets ricocheting off his enormous back, the giant snapped off one of the sculpture’s large steel plates. He held its center bolt like the handle of a huge shield. Then he tore a second plate loose, the sound of popping rivets echoing between gunshots from Ross’s retreating forces.
He held up both metal plates, shaking them angrily in the air and clashing them together in a challenge to Blonsky, who fired another grenade and watched the creature duck behind the makeshift shields. Then he looked around the edge, green eyes burning with fury.
“Remember me?” Blonsky asked.
The creature roared and charged, hacking at Blonsky with the metal plates and trying to pin him to the ground. But Blonsky was feeling the Super-Soldier formula. He dodged the scything sheets of metal and fired his pistol when he ran out of grenades. The bullets weren’t going to hurt the green giant, but that wasn’t the plan. Blonsky was trying to lead him on a chase.
“He’s doing it!” Ross said from the mobile command post, a larger version of the van they’d used in Brazil. It was incredible to see. A battlefield-ready Super-Soldier! This was the kind of moment Ross had been building toward for his entire career. It even eased the sting of Banner’s disastrous failure… a little.
“Move him toward the cannons!” he shouted.
Ahead of Blonsky appeared two vehicles tearing through the woods to the edge of the field. They skidded to a halt fifty yards apart. On each was a massive conical sound projector—another of Ross’s research projects.
With another burst of speed, Blonsky dashed into the speakers’ range, with the creature hot on his tail. The soldiers operating the speakers hesitated, unsure if they should fire with Blonsky in the way.
“Do it now!” Blonsky howled.
The operators fired the sonic cannons, unleashing low-frequency sound loud enough that the waves of it rippled visibly in the air.
The edge of the sonic blast caught Blonsky and flung him aside. He rolled when he hit the ground and popped back up to watch the fireworks.
The overlapping sound waves converged on the Hulk, stopping him in his tracks. He roared in agony and dropped his makeshift shields to clap his hands over his ears.
Blasting beyond the Hulk, the sonic waves split trees and shattered windows.
The Hulk’s suffering bellows were barely audible over the basso thunder of the sound projectors. He crouched down, dark green blood trickling from his ears, and dropped to his knees, trying to hold himself upright. Clearly the sound was doing more damage than machine guns could.
“Please, please, no!” Betty begged her father, and she broke free of the soldiers guarding her to grab the front of his uniform.
“Get her back,” General Ross ordered.
As the soldiers dragged Betty away, she screamed, “You’re killing him!”
CHAPTER 15
Betty broke free from the soldiers’ clutches and sprinted across the field. The rangers bolted after her. They caught Betty, holding her fast.
She strained against their grip. “Bruce!” she screamed.
A confused look crossed the giant’s face at the sound of that name. Then he seemed to recognize her. He shuddered, and a green pulse flared, surging out from his skull.
Slowly, the Hulk got up, bracing himself with the steel sculpture pieces. When he reached his feet, he roared a challenge to the sound projectors, smashing the shields together like giant cymbals. The crash countered the sonic waves for just a moment—and that was all it took for the Hulk to fling one plate discus-style at the left-hand sound projector. It split the projector cone in half and careened away into the trees.
The sound waves from the right cannon refocused, but the Hulk held up his remaining shield and leaned into the sonic blast, driving himself forward step by step. Ross’s soldiers resumed small-arms fire but the barrage did not distract the Hulk this time. He stayed focused on the sound projector, and when he got close enough, he leaped up and put all his weight into a downward blow with the flat of the metal shield.
The impact crushed the rear of the automobile flat. In the silence, he turned to find Betty… but instead saw a furious Thunderbolt Ross.
“Where is my gunship?” he barked.
None of the soldiers moved as the Hulk stared them down. They’d thrown everything they had at him and had barely left a mark. Only Blonsky, riding the wave of his newfound Super-Soldier strength, dared to act. Angling around behind the Hulk, he emptied a full clip from an AR-15 into Hulk’s back.
The Hulk slowly turned around to face him, staring down at Blonsky, who stared right back.
“Is that it?” Blonsky asked, taunting him.
“Blonsky, pull back now!” Ross ordered over the radio.
The Hulk’s eyes narrowed with hatred. He twitched his giant shield as though he might swing it. That’s right, Blonsky thought. You recognize me, don’t you? But I’m not the same as I was before.
“Come on,” he said. Not wanting to be bothered with more orders he would just ignore, he pulled out the earpiece that kept him in contact with Ross. Still looking the Hulk in the eye, he said, “Is that all you’ve got?”
For a moment, the Hulk studied Blonsky. Then…
Smash! The Hulk raised one foot and drove it into Blonsky heel-first with a gruesome crunch. The impact sent Blonsky straight back into the trunk of an oak tree. He hit it hard enough to shake leaves from its branches, and then his body fell limp to the grass.
Ross’s jaw clenched in dismay. Apparently the Super-Soldier program still needed some refinements.
Lightning cracked across the dark sky, and it started to rain as the the Hulk stomped over to Betty.
“Fall back!” Ross ordered his troops. “Find cover!” The command echoed down the line, and the soldiers began to fall back toward the tree line.
Betty stepped closer to the Hulk as an Apache helicopter hove into view over the line of trees across from the destroyed pedestrian overpass. It cleared the trees and dropped into a hover, locking onto the Hulk… whose bulk blocked Betty from the pilot’s view.
She raised her hand to touch the Hulk’s giant green arm. “Bruce?” she whispered.
The Hulk heard his name over the thup-thup-thup of the Apache’s rotors. A spark of recognition flashed in his eyes.
As Ross and Sparr coordinated the retreat, Sparr glanced back to check the progress of the rangers who had been holding Betty. They were headed across a road toward cover on the far side… without Betty.
Looking back toward the field, Sparr spotted Betty standing with the Hulk just as Ross—who didn’t seem to notice where his daughter was—gave the Apache’s pilot the order to fire.
“Hold on to your hats,” the pilot replied.
Sparr waved her arms frantically. “Hold fire!” she screamed.
But it was too late. The Apache’s twin rotating cannons unloaded, tearing up the earth around Betty and the Hulk.
Betty instinctively pressed her body against him for shelter as cannon shells pounded into the Hulk’s back, the flesh of his legs, the skin over his shoulder blades. Keeping Betty behind him, he wheeled around to face the onslaught.
The gunship accelerated toward him, continuing its strafing run. When it was too close to take evasive action, the Hulk sidearmed the remaining piece of the sculpture at it. The sheet metal ripped through the gunship’s main rotor mount and the helicopter nosed down into an uncontrolled plunge. Its crew jumped out as it plowed into the ground and started to roll, sparks showering from shredded electrical conduits. The Hulk grabbed Betty and wrapped himself around her for protection as he turned his back to the tumbling aircraft. The helicopter exploded as it rolled, engulfing the giant in flames.
The force of the blast knocked everyone nearby to the ground. Ross raised his head, staring at the inferno and understanding only now what he had done. There was no way his daughter could have survived the blast.
But then the Hulk stepped out of the flames, his face contorted with pain and cradling Betty in his arms. Lightning split the sky as rain poured down, spitting in the flaming wreckage of the Apache. The Hulk, wreathed in fire, sheltering Betty against his massive chest, stood snarling at Ross.
A crack of thunder boomed, and the Hulk began to run. He gathered speed as he crossed the field, past the soldiers and the wreckage, past Blonsky’s crumpled body. Ross and Sparr could only watch as he ran with Betty and disappeared into the darkness of the forest.
CHAPTER 16
In the aftermath of the disastrous attempt to capture the Hulk, General Ross stood on Leonard’s porch, hoping Betty’s boyfriend might be able to help him find Bruce… and Betty. After all, he was the one who had alerted General Ross that Bruce was in the area.
“You did the right thing, calling us,” Ross said.
Leonard didn’t look convinced.
“I need to know where they’re going,” Ross said. A group of soldiers came out of the house with boxes of material seized for Ross’s investigation. Anything in the house that might be a clue to Bruce’s location was going back to the base for analysis.
“She’ll be in incredible danger as long as she’s with him,” Ross said.
“From who?” Leonard shot back. “He protected her. You almost killed her.”
Ross wanted to grab the doctor and shake him until the answers fell out, but he held himself back. “I give you my word, her safety is my main concern at this point.”
Showing courage Ross wouldn’t have expected from a man who spent his days behind a desk, Leonard stood up and got right in Ross’s face. “You know, it’s a point of professional pride for me that I can always tell when someone is lying,” he said. “And you are. I don’t know where he’s going. I know she’ll help him if she can.”
“Then she’s aiding a fugitive, and I can’t help either of them,” Ross said. He wasn’t going to get anything more out of the psychiatrist. He stood to leave. There were more important things to do.
“I used to wonder why she never talked about you,” Leonard called as Ross strode through the rain toward his car. “Now I know.”
Ross rolled his eyes. “Where does she meet these guys?” he grumbled.
Through a raging storm, the Hulk crashed deep into the forest, pushing his way through the trees for hours until he reached the base of the Smoky Mountains. He climbed the foothills, and then spotted a cave opening in the jagged rocks.
He extended his arms into the cave, gently laying Betty down in a dry spot.
As soon as he let go, Betty startled awake. She gasped, confused when she saw the monstrous face. Betty let out a scream. He jerked back, and his head cracked into the roof of the cave.
The creature growled, surprised by the pain.
“Oh no,” Betty moaned, realizing who he was. “I’m sorry.”
The Hulk stood by the entrance of the cave; he couldn’t fit inside fully.
Betty wrapped her arms around herself in the cold cave. She took her purse strap off her shoulder and removed her wet raincoat, shaking it out and then draping it over herself like a blanket. She looked up at the Hulk.
He pulled away, groaning. In his vision, Betty looked warped and distorted, bizarrely fractured in two. The sound of rain sizzled, like acid.
“Bruce, can you understand me?” Betty asked.
Her voice soothed him, and he settled down for a second—until a bright flash of lightning exploded in the sky.
The creature roared; the blast terrified and enraged him. He whipped around, searching for the source of the attack. When lightning flickered again, he grabbed a boulder and hurled it at the sky. She realized he was trying to protect her against what he thought was a menace from the clouds.
“It’s okay!” Betty called to him. “We’re okay.” She stepped out of the cave into the rain, then touched the creature gently on his arm.
He turned abruptly, growling at her, but Betty wasn’t afraid. She put her hand on one of his fingers and peered at his arm. “Come here,” she said soothingly, inviting him to sit beside her under the cave’s overhanging ledge. “Come this way. Watch your head.” She gave him a tug, and he sat down beside her, out of the rain.
“We’re okay,” she said. “It’s okay. It’s just the rain.” She knew Bruce was in there somewhere. The fact that the green giant had protected her told her that much. But the experiment had done something awful—and incredible—to him, and Betty had no idea how they might reverse it. Or, she thought as she watched the creature relax and gaze out into the rainy night, even how to control it.
Ross strode into the army hospital and caught up with a doctor. “Will Blonsky walk again?” he demanded to know.
The doctor stopped short. “Most of his bones look like crushed gravel right now,” he replied. “I will say this for him. He’s got a heart like a machine. Never seen anything like it outside of a racehorse.”
Ross winced as he followed the doctor into Blonsky’s intensive care room. The soldier was bandaged from head to toe, with every machine imaginable hooked up to him.
The fact that Blonsky was still alive meant the formula had done something. On the other hand, the fact that he was this badly hurt meant the formula hadn’t done enough. Ross had some tweaking to do before the next time he used a human subject. He left to return to the lab—and to check on the search for Betty.
In the morning, Betty woke up to find Bruce sleeping beside her.
She sat up quietly and stared at him. He looked exhausted and weak, but his skin was smooth—all his wounds had healed completely.
When he woke, Bruce felt sick and miserable. They couldn’t stay up in the cave, though. They had to get moving. It took them all day, but they made their way down out of the mountains to a small town with a motel. Betty rented a room while Bruce hid behind an ice machine, wearing her raincoat and h
is shredded pants.
Betty helped him into the room, then left to buy supplies while he showered.
When she came back with shopping bags, Betty heard Bruce vomiting in the bathroom.
She put down her purchases on the bed and waited, concerned.
Bruce finally emerged from the bathroom with a toothbrush stuck in the corner of his mouth, not looking as bad as Betty feared. He was still wet from the shower. “Oh, hi,” he said.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, I feel better actually,” he replied. He held up the thumb drive she had saved from the old lab. “I just had to get my data back.”
Betty was glad to see it. On that drive was their only chance to control the gamma radiation in Bruce’s blood. But still… “You ate it?”
“Yeah,” Bruce said sheepishly. “The circumstances called for a little improvisation.”
“Wow,” Betty said. She pointed toward the bed. “Okay, so they didn’t have a great selection, but I got you a few options. First things first.”
She pulled a small box out of the bag and tossed it to him.
Bruce glanced down at a pulse monitor. “You’re kidding me.”
“Okay, now, it’s no Armani, but…” Betty began to pull clothes out of the bags, holding them up so he could see the sizes. Most were too small, and he gave those the thumbs-down. Then she tossed him a pair of stretchy purple pants.
He held them up to his waist. Then he shot her a look.
Betty couldn’t help but laugh. “What? They were the stretchiest ones they had!”
“I’ll take my chances,” he said, sitting down on the bed beside her.
After he’d chosen a different pair of pants, Betty gave Bruce a haircut, which he sorely needed. “You’ve done this on your own for all this time,” she said as she ran her fingers through his hair.
“Usually with clippers,” he joked, but they both knew she meant more than just haircuts.
They laughed, and soon they were kissing. Bruce wanted to tell her about all the times he’d thought of her during the last five years, but with her right there, none of that mattered. He had her back.