“Time we were leaving,” said Tina.
“No,” said Daniel, his chest so tight he had to force the words out. “Not yet. I have unfinished business to attend to.”
His hands clenched into fists, and he could tell from the look on Tina’s face that his smile was a very cold thing. He needed to face the Frankenstein creatures. Needed to stand his ground and let them come to him, so he could hurt them they way they’d hurt him, and his friends. It was the only way he’d ever be able to leave the cellar behind him. He barely felt Tina grab his arm, until she used all her strength to turn him around and face her. He yanked his arm free, ready to shout at her if that was what it took—and then stopped as he realized that, while her face was angry, her eyes were understanding.
“You can’t physically hurt them, Daniel!” she said urgently. “You can’t. They don’t feel anything, because they’re just dead men walking. But they can hurt us. Or at the very least, hold us here until it’s too late to get away.”
And just like that Daniel remembered the bomb, with its preset timer ticking away. He nodded stiffly, and turned to follow Tina as she headed for the door.
But his moment of indecision had given the creatures just enough time to catch up with them. Daniel was within arm’s reach of the door when a heavy hand dropped onto his shoulder, and dead fingers clamped down with sickening force. He cried out at the pain, as the creature hauled him back from the door, and then he threw off the creature’s hand with an effort, turned back, and punched it in the face with such force that its head snapped all the way round, the neck broken. The creature staggered backward, head lolling to one side at an unnatural angle, but it quickly recovered its balance and came forward again. Behind it came more of the Frankenstein creations, closing in on the Hydes with cold, relentless purpose.
Daniel lashed out at them with all of his Hyde strength, grunting out loud with the effort he was put into every attack, but his fists only jarred against the cold unyielding flesh. Bones broke and shattered under his blows, but none of it was enough to stop the dead men pressing forward. Tina threw punch after punch with happy abandon, hitting one creature so hard under the sternum that she must have crushed its heart—but no blood flowed from the creature’s mouth, and the expression on its face never changed. The Frankensteins made their creations to last. They kept on pressing forward, a crowd of cold merciless hands reaching out to rend and tear.
Daniel forced down his anger, so he could concentrate on what was in front of him. He focused on the creatures’ weak spots, breaking their extended arms with swift, calculated blows, shattering leg bones with vicious kicks, and even thrusting two fingers deep into unseeing eyes. The crippled creatures fell sprawling to the floor, but there were always more, stepping uncaringly over the fallen to take their place. Daniel lashed out again and again, hitting them as hard as he could, until his fists were bloodied and aching from the impacts, but it was like fighting death itself. He could hold it off for a while, but he couldn’t stop it.
Tina fought tirelessly at his side, kicking the legs out from under the creatures and then stamping on their necks when they were down. She laughed breathlessly as she fought, delighting in the mayhem. She grabbed two handfuls of a creature’s clothes, hauled it off its feet and lifted it above her head, and then threw it down the hall. It flew through the air and smashed into the tables, sending good food and wine flying, and scattering the panicked Frankensteins. She managed the same trick several times, because the creatures never learned—no matter how hard they landed, they always got up and came back for more.
Most of the Frankensteins were on their feet now, screaming conflicting orders at the creatures, but none of them made any attempt to get involved themselves. Perhaps because they were businessmen, and such direct action would be beneath them. But some of the younger Frankensteins were so incensed, or saw an opportunity to make an impression, that they left the safety of the tables to advance on the Hydes with scalpels shining brightly in their hands. The Clan spokesman yelled for them to come back, but they pretended they hadn’t heard him. The young men and women broke into a run, smiling maliciously, with blood and punishment on their minds. One after another they threw themselves at Daniel and Tina, only to be struck down so hard they never got up again. Daniel took a certain satisfaction in that, remembering the bloody-handed surgeons standing over gutted corpses, but there just wasn’t enough time for him to savor it properly.
He was breathing hard now, his heart hammering painfully fast in his chest. It seemed there might be a limit after all to Hyde strength and endurance. He drove the dead men back with a flurry of blows and looked quickly about him, his eyes darting over fallen creatures still struggling to rise, and more dead men coming, and then he smiled suddenly as his gaze fell upon the nearest table. He called out to Tina and pointed, and she got the idea immediately. They charged right at the nearest creatures, sending them stumbling backward with lowered shoulders and great sweeps of their arms. They grabbed hold of the table and heaved it over onto its side, despite its weight, and then used it as a barrier to force the crowd of creatures back. Daniel and Tina kept their heads carefully low, so the hands reaching over the table couldn’t find them. Some of the creatures took hold of the table and began to tear it apart.
Daniel suddenly let go and stepped back. Tina looked at him sharply, but he shot her a reassuring smile. He’d just remembered what she said earlier, about how the creatures were conditioned to obey authority figures. He took a deep breath, and raised his voice so it would carry over the screaming Frankensteins. He glared at the creatures, and stabbed a finger at them.
“Stay!”
And for a moment, the creatures did. Held where they were by the simple power of a direct command. Tina started to turn away and head for the door, but Daniel wasn’t finished yet. He couldn’t forget the hybrid in its chains, and the gloating satisfaction in the spokesman’s voice. He reached across the table and took a firm hold on the nearest creature’s head with both hands. He braced himself, and tore the head right off. As the headless body toppled slowly backward, Daniel pulled back his arm and threw the head with all his strength. It rocketed down the length of the hall, and hit the Clan spokesman in the face with such force that his head all but exploded. Blood flew on the air, and the Frankensteins nearest him shrank back, crying out with shock. Daniel grinned like a wolf.
The Frankenstein Clan fell silent, staring at Daniel with wide, stunned eyes. The creatures still weren’t moving. Daniel looked upon his work, and knew it to be good. Tina tapped him politely on the arm.
“If you’ve quite finished . . . ”
“I think so,” said Daniel.
“Did that make you feel any better?”
“Do you know?” said Daniel. “I really think it did.”
“Good,” said Tina. “Can we go now?”
“Right behind you.”
They turned their backs on the shocked Frankensteins and their motionless creatures, and sprinted for the door. The Frankensteins suddenly started screaming orders again, and the dead men tore the table apart and stamped forward through the wreckage. Daniel and Tina barely had time to haul open the door and throw themselves through it before the creatures were almost upon them. The Hydes slammed the door in their cold, empty faces, and then Daniel held it closed with all his strength while Tina locked it quickly with her skeleton key. She broke the key in two, leaving half inside the lock, and then she and Daniel backed quickly away from the door. It was already shaking and shuddering in its frame, as cold fists pounded and hammered on the other side. The two Hydes didn’t wait to see the heavy wood crack and splinter; they were already running down the corridor. Daniel heard the door start to fall apart behind him, but kept his gaze fixed firmly on the way ahead.