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Marvel Novel Series 02 - The Incredible Hulk - Stalker From The Stars

Page 14

by Len Wein


  The wind whipped at his eyes as he pulled the ripcord, forcing the tears which otherwise would not come.

  And then sound became everything. Sound and blinding green light. Then darkness. And dampness.

  And nothingness.

  Thirty-One

  Gamma Base was humming with activity. The Hulk-buster weaponry was all being dismantled. No more need for it now that the Hulk himself was dead, destroyed in the devastating explosion of Rudolf Stern’s gamma-irradiated body.

  From the window of his hospital room, Thunderbolt Ross supervised the dismantling procedures. “Quartermain, tell them to put the ion displacers in stasistorage. They’re too dangerous to be left unguarded. Come on, Quartermain—hop to it, man. We haven’t got all day to waste.”

  Quartermain smiled and strolled out of the room. The general was becoming more and more his old self with every passing day.

  The room was almost quiet now, Ross saying nothing, merely fuming under his breath. Rick Jones sat gazing out the window, watching all the little bits and pieces of machinery as they were crated and carried away.

  “I still can’t believe he’s really gone, General.”

  “Truth to tell, Jones, neither can I. I didn’t like Banner much, downright hated the Hulk. But, still, it doesn’t make me happy to see anyone die, not even him—especially when he died as some sort of hero.”

  “Yeah. A hero.” The thought almost brought a smile to Rick’s lips. “I think he would have liked that. But the whole thing still makes me feel one helluva lot older, General.”

  Ross touched the thick bandages that covered more than half his body. The radiation burns were healing quickly, but they still itched unbearably. “You feel older, Jones? Then what does that make me? Listen, kid, I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Death is part of life. You learn to accept it after a while. You never learn to like it, but you accept it, because it’s there. Death and taxes, Jones. They’re the only two real constants in this world.”

  Rick was quiet—no answer, no snappy comeback. Ross coughed uncomfortably, then changed the subject. “So, what are you planning to do now, kid? We can’t let you hang around Gamma Base much longer without proper clearance and authorization. What you tell the world about what happened back at Crater Falls is up to you. But you know how Uncle Sam feels about it.”

  Rick smiled wanly. “Don’t sweat it, General. I won’t give you any bad press. I’m as anxious to forget what happened there as the rest of you, even though I’m going back. Linda asked if I’d visit her now that it’s over, maybe help her pick up a few of the pieces of her life. After that, who knows? That’s what I’m doing, General. And you?”

  Ross flexed a bandaged muscle and flinched. “Me? I’ll do as I’ve always done—follow orders. I’m a soldier, remember? The medics tell me these blasted bandages can come off in a few weeks. In the meantime, I’ll do my best to put this base back in some kind of order, maybe give it a constructive purpose now that there isn’t a Hulk to track down anymore.

  “Don’t you worry about me, kid. I can take care of myself.”

  Rick smiled. “Never doubted it for a second, General. But if you’d jumped from that copter a few seconds later—” Rick let the unfinished sentence hang heavy in the air.

  Rising from the stiff-backed hospital chair, Rick threw a carefully packed knapsack over his shoulder, then made sure his guitar was securely fastened. Then he turned and headed for the door. “Well, I guess that about does it, General. You hang in there, hear?”

  Rick stepped through the doorway and was about to close the door behind him when Ross spoke again.

  “Hey, when you finally decide on your future, son, do me a favor and call me, huh?”

  Rick grinned. “General, it’ll be my pleasure.”

  A government Jeep carried Rick across Gamma Base toward the exit in the distance. Far off to one side, almost on the horizon, he saw a small trench cut into the desert’s face. The wire fences which had been used to cordon off the area had long since fallen into decay. Near the trench, the twisted remains of an old red jalopy could still be seen.

  “Hey, you okay?” the driver asked. “You looked pretty pale there for a second, kid.”

  “It’s nothing, pal,” Rick replied softly. “Nothing that can’t be cured by time.”

  The Jeep accelerated and headed for the gate.

  On a hill overlooking the para-military installation, a slender, brown-haired figure sat staring at the work forces far below. He watched as a lone Jeep passed through the exit and growled off into the distance. The gate wasn’t really all that far away, a few minutes’ walk, that was all. He could stroll casually up to the fence, tell the waiting guard his name, and the welcome he’d receive would be . . . well, unforgettable, to say the least.

  But he hadn’t pulled himself, battered and shaking, from the churning waters of Crater Falls Lake simply to offer himself up as a prisoner once more. No, he’d had more than enough of that.

  Several miles in the opposite direction, there was a small town where he could catch a bus making connections to all points east and west.

  Silently, Bruce Banner rose and started walking toward that town, but his step was not a light one.

  Table of Contents

  Back Cover

  Preview

  Titlepage

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Introduction

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

 

 

 


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