"Departure lounge," Hellboy said. Then he ran. He pounded onto the moving walkways, nudging people aside and apologizing as he went. He heard Liz behind him doing the same. The pistol was a reassuring weight in his left hand, and he made sure he had a perfect grip. They were getting closer.
Another roar, and something exploded at the heart of the terminal, setting ceiling tiles vibrating and advertisement frames falling from walls. Hellboy vaulted the handrail of the moving walkway and ran for a fire exit, shouldering his way through and crashing across the corridor into another door. It had been a guess, and a good one. He burst through and stumbled into a display of perfume and moisturizing cream, dropping to his knees, smashing the shelving away from his face, and bringing the gun up in one smooth movement. Someone screamed — a sales clerk, he guessed — but he ignored her, standing and forcing his way through the shop and out onto the concourse. People were running left to right. Some of them looked fearfully over their shoulders, most simply ran, terrified and determined. Children screamed as parents squeezed their arms. Hold tighter, Hellboy thought. These kids need to grow up to tell the story. He turned left and ran against the flow. Most people moved out of his way.
"You there, Liz?" he yelled.
"Right behind you."
"I thought I'd lose you in the perfume shop."
"Sexist ape."
Skidding around a corner, Hellboy saw what had caused the explosion. There was a dragon thrashing and twisting amid the ruins of a car display stand. The car itself — once a polished and curvaceous totem of materialism — had been kicked aside into a tie shop, and was now a burning wreck. Several bodies were scattered around its broken chassis. They too were burning.
"Son of a bitch!" Hellboy yelled. The dragon stopped its orgy of destruction and turned to face him. It grew quiet for a moment, perhaps confused at this big red man. Then it growled. "Oh yeah," Hellboy said. "Your cousin was an ugly mother too."
The dragon darted forward, surprisingly nimble despite its size. It coughed fire at the same time, and Hellboy and Liz rolled to the side. They ended up in a coffee shop — spilled coffee sheening the floor, discarded bags and magazines pushed against walls like snowdrifts — and they had to duck again when the dragon drew level and let out another gush of flames. The fire consumed the air around them and stole their breath, blazing across the counter and bursting bags and cans. As it receded the pleasing smell of roasted coffee filled the air.
"Now I'm getting very pissed," Hellboy said. "Liz?"
"I'll give you first shot," she said, smiling.
"So considerate." Hellboy stood, brought the gun up, and fired. The dragon seemed to dodge, flexing its neck and body as if it knew where the bullet was aimed. Then it lunged with its heavy front claws, dashing him aside, dragging him out, holding him down so that it could twist its body and stand on his chest. Hellboy aimed again and fired, but the bullet glanced from the thing's skull and took out the display window of a sports shop. Sneakers and footballs tumbled out, and the dragon snapped its head to one side and fried them.
Hellboy squirmed against the weight of the beast, taking in a huge breath and smashing at its foot with his right hand. The dragon screeched and lifted its foot ... and then brought it down again, hard. Hellboy's breath was forced from his lungs, and he felt the tiles beneath him shatter from the impact. He kept hold of his gun.
From his left he felt the livid simmering of a different fire.
The dragon turned its foot left and right, crunching Hellboy down into the floor. The sharp edges of broken tiles scraped his skin, the beasts claws bit into his chest and abdomen, and Hellboy looked up and saw a security camera turn toward him, flashing red. Great, he thought. Ass kicked on film for the second time. He turned the gun, pressed the barrel against the dragons foot, and pulled the trigger. Blood exploded in his face, and the dragon fell to one side, howling like a puppy left on its own.