7 - Incredible Hulk Library

“INCREDIBLE” 

Chapter 7 

Author: 

Derrick Ferguson 

Author’s Email: derrickferguson1@aol.com 

Publishing Date: March 28, 2007 

Brought to you by: The Hulk Library (www.hulklibrary.com) 

Remember that science claims a man's whole life. Had he two lives they would not suffice. 

Science demands an undivided allegiance from its followers. In your work and in your 

research there must always be passion. 

Ivan Petrovich Pavlov 

1849-1936 

Woodgod could scarcely believe his eyes as he watched the frail human he had 

so rudely manhandled just a few seconds ago acquire roughly a thousand 

pounds of massive muscle right before his startled eyes. His surprise was even 

more of a personal impact because he recognized the emerald giant that now 

stood before him, glowering green eyes volcanic with murderous hate. Broad 

nostrils flaring and the air expelling from them felt as hot as if they were coming 

straight from a heart born in Hell. Yes, it had been years ago when they had met. 

It had been not long after Woodgod's unnatural birth. He had not been as 

articulate or intelligent as he was now. Back then his artificially created brain had 

still been rapidly developing, learning, maturing. But now he could reason and 

speak and it was in his power to maybe prevent yet another tragedy occurring in 

these doom haunted woods. Woodgod raised his wide hands in the universal 

gesture of peace and shouted; "WAIT! We must speak before-" 

However, trying to speak to an enraged Hulk is far worse than an exercise in 

futility. It borders on sheer stupidity. The Hulk roared and charged Woodgod. 

There was a furnace of frustrated rage blazing white-hot inside the cavernous 

chest of The Hulk. The humiliation of his recent injuries at the hands of The 

Human Torch and the betrayal of The Leader were still painfully fresh in the jade 

giant's brain and The Hulk tended to take out his frustrations on whoever or 

whatever was closest and right now that was Woodgod. 

Woodgod quickly saw that The Hulk was in absolutely no mood to hear 

anything and so he prepared himself, sidestepping quickly, his hooves striking 

sparks from flinty rocks under hoof as he nimbly dodged The Hulk's charge with 

Created on 3/15/2008 11:47 AM

“Incredible” Chapter 7 

The Hulk Library (www.hulklibrary.com) 

an agility that was freakishly graceful for one with such a monstrous aspect. The 

Hulk swung a mighty arm that was as thick as Woodgod's body and caught 

Woodgod a solid blow. Woodgod was thrown a good hundred feet through the 

air, tumbling over and over. He smashed into the trunk of two hundred year old 

tree, splintering the forest elder. With a grinding, snapping sound it crashed to 

the ground in a storm of dirt and leaves. 

Woodgod growled as he got to his hooves. Peaceful as he was, he also didn't like 

being manhandled by a brute. He came over the mossy ground at the amazed 

Hulk, his legs a blur, sparks left in his trail. The Hulk gawped, taken totally by 

surprise. He'd expected to kill this animal with that one blow but here it was, 

coming back for more, running flat out and drawing back a muscular brown arm 

to- 

BOOM! 

Woodgod’s punch sent The Hulk flying backwards, digging a wide trench into 

the ground. The Hulk was totally shocked. Not only had this animal taken his 

best shot but had come back with as good as he got. The Hulk roared, coming up 

swinging and the forest reverberated with the sounds of might fists pounded on 

flesh hard as stone, sounding like boulders being smashed together. Their grunts 

were loud enough to frighten animals for a mile away and birds, deer, foxes and 

bears among other forest denizens scattered. The sounds of the terrible conflict 

echoed and re-echoed. 

The Hulk landed a blow to the side of Woodgod’s head that staggered him, 

driving him to the right, setting him up for a left to the ribs caused Woodgod to 

gasp out loud. The world was growing dark as his hyper-efficient lungs 

struggled to draw in a decent breath of air. It had been a long time since 

Woodgod had fought anyone or anything this powerful and he was going to 

have to- 

WHAM! 

A solid straight right to the jaw sent Woodgod flying up and down in an arc that 

ended with him smashing back down to earth, causing the ground to vibrate like 

a plucked guitar string. The Hulk grinned maliciously. There wasn’t any way 

that the animal could have survived a punch like that. The Hulk had put The 

Rhino out for half a day with a punch like that once. The Hulk stomped over to 

where Woodgod lay. He didn’t appear to be breathing and the right side of his 

head was grotesquely swollen. The Hulk leaned over and poked Woodgod in the 

stomach with a thick finger- 

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And Woodgod’s fur covered left leg whipped up and straight out, the large black 

hoof impacting squarely into The Hulk’s genitalia. 

A party of eight fishermen in a boat on Lake Cumberland nine miles away heard 

something that sounded like a beast howling in agony. They stopped their 

conversation, puzzled at what the sound could be, where it could have come 

from. Unable to locate or identify the source of the sound they went back to the 

beer and the fishing. 

The Hulk staggered away from his foe, hugging his outraged delicates with one 

hand while his other hand tightened into the most powerful mortal fist on the 

planet and brought it down. Woodgod nimbly rolled out of the way as the fist 

came down and hit the ground with enough force to cause the earth the split, 

zigzagging fissures radiating out in all directions, dirt bursting upwards into the 

air from the deep fractures. Woodgod couldn’t stay on his hooves as the earth 

was bouncing up and down like a trampoline and that momentary loss of 

balance was all The Hulk needed. Again he exhibited that uncanny, frightening 

speed as he sprang upon Woodgod and used his weight to slam him into the still 

quivering ground. 

"Wait!" Woodgod gasped. "WAIT!" 

The Hulk brought his large, squarish head down close and hissed in Woodgod’s 

pointed ear, "wait for what? I’m gonna kill you, you goddamn animal. You think 

you can kick The Hulk in the nuts and I’m gonna leave you alive to walk around 

braggin’ ‘bout it? BULLSHIT on that." The Hulk’s hands tightened on 

Woodgod’s neck and torso. Woodgod’s vision began to darken with a terrifying 

rapidity and all he could feel was the hot fetid breath and the guttural obscenities 

muttered by the jade monster that was choking the life out of him… 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

There was a good joke in the name of The Kwaidan Corporation but you had to 

be a real hardcore movie buff to pick up on it. "Kwaidan" was the name of 

Chinese movie composed of five separate ghost stories. The Kwaidan 

Corporation was composed of five separate divisions that were no more than 

elaborate fronts or ‘ghosts’ to hide the true purpose of The Kwaidan Corporation. 

The American headquarters were located just a few miles outside of Seattle. A 

graceful, curving building, three times as wide at the base as was at the top. The 

Kwaidan Building was a wonderful piece of modern architecture, as much art as 

a functional place to work. It also was a completely state of the art ‘smart 

building’ that the designers hoped would evolve into sentience any day now. 

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Now behind The Kwaidan Building was another structure, a smaller gray dome 

with no windows. The entire smooth surface of the dome was in actually one 

huge network of sensors and telemetry grids. This building was what The 

Kwaidan Corporation was a front for. Here was where the billion and billions of 

dollars The Kwaidan Corporation made were poured into. And while the name 

of the building had a soothing sound it’s actually purpose and reason for 

existence was one of technological horror. 

For you see, this was Serenity Base. 

One of the largest of the many conference halls inside the base was filling up 

rapidly with representatives from many nations, many countries. Most of these 

representatives were from other corporations, some from governments as official 

representatives, some not. Others represented private interests. Nearly sixty men 

and women from all over the globe had come at the summons of the brilliantly 

deranged woman who was in charge of Serenity Base and the work being done 

there. 

They took their seats in the stadium-like conference hall, the quiet murmuring of 

their conversation dying down as they made themselves comfortable and waited. 

The lights were dimmed slightly, except for the recessed lighting illuminating the 

circular stage. A door at the far end of the hall opened and a woman slowly 

walked into the conference hall, graciously acknowledging the quiet ripple of 

respectful applause that filled the hall. 

She was dressed in a formfitting metallic suit of intricate design that shimmered 

an iridescent pale cerulean. Circuitry inlaid on the surface of the suit in patterns 

like those of ancient hieroglyphics from some future time. A row of crystal bars 

perhaps two inches wide ran up the side of her left leg and her right arm. The 

bars pulsed and throbbed with their own inner life. They gradually darkened 

from maroon to sable, and then turned transparent and the cycle would start 

again. Her head was bald save for a thin black ponytail that reached from the 

back of her delicately shaped head almost to her knees. And as she stepped fully 

into the light, another striking thing about her was immediately apparent: 

Her skin was a rich, healthy, deep shape of green. 

The woman was very beautiful indeed with neon blue eyes that demanded 

attention and respect. Not a tall woman at all. Perhaps five feet three inches even 

in her high heels. But her striking appearance along with the bizarre yet 

wonderfully exotic metallic suit she wore gave her a stature that went beyond 

mere height. 

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Professor Janelle Ban cleared her throat and took her place at the podium. "Thank 

you all so much for coming to Serenity Base on such short notice," she said in a 

strong clear voice that had a wondrous singsong lilt that vaguely sounded 

Caribbean but there was another, stranger infliction that was most difficult to 

place. "I know how difficult it was for many of you to get away but I trust that 

you know for a certainty that I would not have called you here if the need were 

not most pressing." Professor Janelle Ban’s left hand reached inside of her 

stomach, passing through the metal of the suit as if it did not exist and withdrew 

a pair of glasses and an oval device that appeared to be some sort of electronic 

notebook. The screen of the device lighted up at her touch and she put her 

glasses on. 

"I’ll get right down to business: our plan of either duping or recruiting Doctor 

Bruce Banner aka The Hulk into working for or with us has been disastrously 

compromised. We’ve already lost Thaddeus Ross due to mismanagement of 

colossal proportions and I am beginning to have serious misgivings about further 

use of the Talbot clone. But in his defense let it be noted that without the clone 

we would not have acquired some important pieces of Banner’s technology 

which have been brought here to Serenity Base." 

Another ripple of pleased applause filled the room. 

A female Russian voice from the eleventh row spoke over the applause: "I was 

opposed to the Talbot clone being used in the first place. As well as Ross. When it 

comes to The Hulk, Ross was always unstable." 

Professor Ban sighed and nodded reluctantly. "In retrospect, the entire scenario 

of having the Talbot clone pretend to be Ross’s prisoner to lure Banner in proved 

to be overly complicated and compromised too many valuable resources. 

Apparently Ross snapped and instead of following the plan attempted to kill The 

Hulk on his own." 

From the sixth row, a deep male Australian voice said; "I always said we should 

have made Banner a straight up and down offer. Banner’s always looking for a 

home, a place to stop running. He’s tired of walking down that damn highway 

with his thumb out." 

Professor Ban shook her head. "We discussed that exhaustively and it was 

decided that we couldn’t take the chance. Our sources inform us that recently it 

appears as if Banner and The Hulk have reached some sort of agreement that has 

resulted in a blending of certain aspects of their personas. The two personalities 

seem to be working together toward some common goal that cannot be 

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determined by our profilers. Both Banner and The Hulk are perhaps more 

dangerous now than they’ve ever been before. Our psychologists and profilers 

have advised that we throw out the book on everything we thought we knew 

about both Bruce Banner and The Hulk. There is now simply no way of 

predicting what either of them will do in any given situation." 

An American voice full of the richness of the south spoke from the second row: 

"Why don’t we just abandon our plans to use The Hulk? You’ve done some 

mighty extraordinary work on your own, Professor." Again a ripple of respectful 

applause filled the hall. Professor Ban held up a metal hand that flashed in the 

light as she smiled. 

"Thank you, thank you. And yes, my work has been remarkable. As of now we 

have twelve subjects who have survived the various procedures and surgeries 

that I have developed to safely induce gamma-irradiated mutation. But we could 

do so much more if we had Bruce Banner and The Hulk. No matter how much I 

have done I could labor another twenty years and still never have half of the 

knowledge that Bruce Banner has when it comes to gamma radiation. Even after 

all this time, being a man on the run with no access to proper equipment or time 

to research, Bruce Banner is still regarded as the world’s leading expert on 

gamma radiation. As for The Hulk…what more needs to be said that if there’s 

such a thing as a living gamma bomb, then The Hulk is it. The Hulk has beaten 

just about every superhuman being on the planet he’s ever fought and survived 

the attacks of entire armies. He’s been hit with every type of weaponry this 

planet has from a peashooter to a nuclear warhead and he’s still alive. Ladies and 

gentlemen, in my professional opinion I don’t even think that it IS possible to kill 

The Hulk." Professor Ban leaned on the podium and her eyes sparkled as she 

continued: 

"And that’s why we need them. Somewhere in the DNA of Bruce Banner there’s 

the answer we need. And there’s somebody here who has set his own plan in 

motion for locating The Hulk and getting what we need and he’s going to speak 

to you now." Professor Ban stepped back from the podium and added her 

applause to that of the others as The Vice-President Of The United States stood 

up and walked grandly to the stage. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Slowly the world came back into focus as Woodgod’s great lungs deeply drew 

life-enriching oxygen into them. He looked up at his enemy, surprised to find 

himself still alive. The Hulk had removed his enormous hands from Woodgod 

and had raised his crushing weight up off from Woodgod’s chest. The Hulk’s 

head was cocked to one side as if he were listening intently to someone standing 

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at his shoulder but Woodgod could neither see or smell anyone there. Still, The 

Hulk’s body language was unmistakably that of listening very carefully to 

something important that was being said to him. 

Woodgod scrambled clear and stood up, massaging his sore neck. The Hulk kept 

a wary eye on him while he was apparently still listening to whatever unseen 

voice was talking to him. Finally, The Hulk grunted and that seemed to end 

whatever inner conversation he was having. 

"You know me, don’t’cha?" 

Woodgod nodded. "It was shortly after my birth. My parents were killed by 

ignorant townspeople and that resulted in my existence being discovered by the 

military. You and another showed up in the town of Liberty, which had been 

quarantined. The other was garbed in a strange costume of red and blue." 

"Yeah, I know him. Annoying li'l bug calls himself Spider-Man. Okay, so far yer 

story checks." 

"Can I ask why you stopped choking me to death?" 

"Because a little voice told me I was making a mistake and you better thank 

whatever god a freak like you worships that it did ‘cause you were about four 

heartbeats away from goin’ up yonder. You shouldn’t have jumped Banner. He 

never did anything to you." 

"This Banner or you killed my friends!" 

The Hulk frowned in confusion and once again he cocked his head. This time, to 

the other side and once again it was as if he was listening to someone speaking 

urgently into his ear. "Y’mean them people back at the cabin? Banner didn’t kill 

‘em. When he found ‘em they were already dead. Looked like the man plugged 

both the woman and li'l boy in the backs of their heads when they wasn’t 

lookin’." 

Woodgod’s nostrils flared. His nose was packed with olfactory membranes and 

just by smelling the changes in a person’s body chemistry he could tell if 

someone were hostile, afraid or lying. Now admittedly, The Hulk’s body 

chemistry was radically different from anything Woodgod had ever smelled in 

his life but still, there was no significant change as he spoke and Woodgod 

decided to trust his instincts. He relaxed and said; "I believe you speak the truth." 

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"Well, whoop-de-doo. You believe me. Not that there ain’t much you coulda 

done to me if I was lyin’." 

"I owe you…or your…alter ego my thanks, then. For burying my friends." 

"What the hell were they doin’ all the way out here anyways? And for that 

matter, what the hell are you doin’ here? Liberty’s back in Arizona or Nevada, 

ain’t it?" 

Woodgod eyed The Hulk carefully. "Don’t you remember?" 

"Nah. The Hulk you met then was a lot dumber. I’d still like to know what you’re 

doin’ here, though." 

Woodgod motioned for The Hulk to follow. "Then come with me back to my 

home and I’ll be happy to satisfy your curiosity." 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Felton Hardbottle had been in some pretty funky dives in his day. He’d been to 

Cairo, Calcutta, Tijuana and half a dozen other cities where vice and sin was 

normal day-to-day business. Nothing surprised him anymore. Not when it came 

to the depths of spiritual excrements that human beings would willingly 

submerge themselves into. That’s why it didn’t surprise him to find Annabel St. 

Cyr working in the filthiest whorehouse he’d seen in many a year. And it didn’t 

surprise him that when he knocked on the door, Annabel threw it open and had 

a huge smile on her face. Next to using her power, if there was anything Annabel 

enjoyed more than wallowing in sexual depravity he didn’t know what it was. 

She stood there totally naked, her marvelous dusky skin radiating vitality. She 

was breathing heavily as if she’d just finished a good healthy run and a thin 

sheen of sweat slicked her splendidly shaped body. The unique mixture of her 

African/Vietnamese/French bloods gave her a wonderfully exotic appearance. 

"Felton! It’s been a long time. Want to come in and join us girls?" 

Hardbottle heard giggling coming from inside and shook his head in a negative. 

"This is official business, Annabel. I’m here to offer you a job." 

Annabel shook her head in an emphatic negative. "Not interested. I’m having too 

much fun right where I am and I know that if I get hooked up with you again I’ll- 

" 

"I know where your father is." 

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Annabel visibly jumped as if a low surge of electricity went through her. "Don’t 

screw around with me, Felton. I like you a lot. You know that. But you screw 

with me about this and I’ll kill you slow." 

Hardbottle held up a pinky-sized information chip. "His location and all 

pertinent information is on here. You come work for me and when the job’s over, 

it’s yours." 

"I could take it from you right now and not have to do your dirty work." 

"Bullet’s downstairs. I’d hate to have to take him off his leash." 

Annabel grinned. "You do that and this whole city block will be gone by the time 

we’re done. And there’s a better than even chance one or both of us will be either 

dead or so busted up as to be of no use to you." 

Hardbottle shrugged. "Probably. But by then a lot of enemies you’ve made over 

the years will know you’re alive. And they’ll come for you. You really want to 

take a chance on them finding you if you’re too busted up to defend yourself?" 

Annabel sucked on a tooth. "Good point. C’mon in for a minute and let’s talk 

some more." There wasn’t much in the dark room. Just a table upon which rested 

bottles of liquor, overflowing ashtrays and an amazing variety of recreational 

pharmaceuticals. And there was a bed where two teenaged Asian girls lay, both 

of them looking pretty wasted. Annabel looked fresh as a spring Sunday 

morning. Her stamina was remarkable, as Hardbottle knew from personal 

experience. He felt sorry for the two girls. Annabel smacked one of the leg and 

snapped; "The both of you get dressed and get out. I need the room." 

Reluctantly the two girls hauled themselves off the bed and went around the 

room, picking up various items of clothing they had thrown all over the place in 

their careless lust. Hardbottle waited until they had gotten dressed and left 

before speaking again. "Friends of yours?" 

Annabel had donned a purple silk bathrobe and lit up a thin black cigar that 

gave off a pungently sweet aroma. "You didn’t look me up to discuss my sex life. 

What’s the deal?" 

"I’ve got a new job these days. Hunting down The Hulk for The Vice-President." 

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"The Hulk? Big green guy. Kicks the U.S. Army’s ass so often he holds the world 

record. Laughs off any kind of weaponry you throw at him. Mean as a rabid 

junkyard dog. You mean that Hulk?" 

"The very same. I’ve put together a team to hunt him down and I want you on 

it." 

"Hm. And then you tell me where my father is?" 

"That’s the deal. You in or out?" 

Annabel smoked in silence for perhaps a minute. "I want money." 

"I can guarantee five mil." 

"I’m in." 

Hardbottle nodded in satisfaction. "Glad to hear it. Having someone of your 

power along makes me feel a whole lot better." 

"You planning on killing The Hulk, Felton?" 

"No. The VP wants to give The Hulk a job if you can believe that. But the last 

time me and The Hulk squared off it didn’t end with us on friendly terms. So I 

need some backup to keep him from tearing me apart before I’ve had a chance to 

have my say. And there’s other factors involved, as well." 

"And if we run into these ‘other factors’?" 

"Kill ‘em all." 

Annabel blew out smoke and smiled contently. "I’m going to like working with 

you again, Felton." 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

The Hulk landed with a thunderous TH-BOOM! next to Woodgod who stood at 

the entrance of a cave maybe two miles from the death cabin. The Hulk had 

leaped from clearing to clearing, keeping Woodgod in sight who simply ran 

through the forest with a speed that made fleet-footed deer look as if they were 

moving in slow motion. A large slab of gray rock covered the entrance to the 

cave and Woodgod, again demonstrating that surprising strength easily lifted the 

slab as if it were a vanilla wafer and placed to one side. The Hulk wondered just 

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how strong this genetically engineered creature was. There weren’t many who 

could go toe-to-toe with him and The Hulk had to confess a grudging admiration 

for this Woodgod. A memory from the Banner persona of his psyche slipped into 

The Hulk’s consciousness and made him laugh out loud suddenly. 

Woodgod turned to look at him in confusion. "Something you find humorous?" 

"Just a thought. It ain’t nothin’." The Hulk had no reason why Banner found that 

line so funny: "Who is that goat-legged fellow, Smithers? I like the cut of his jib." 

Or where it came from it obviously inspired a great deal of hilarity from the 

Banner persona. The Hulk wasn’t sure how much he liked that. 

The two walked into the wide opening of the cave that expanded into a larger, 

well-lit cavern. The Hulk’s eyes plainly registered surprise as he took in the rows 

and rows of gleaming machinery, computer consoles and long metal 

workbenches. 

The Hulk indicated the cave with a sweet of a great green arm. "What’s all this 

about? Who tricked out this cave like this?" 

"My friend David Columbo. He was also a good friend and colleague of my 

parents." 

"Yer parents…were they like you?" 

Woodgod shook his horned head. "My parents were geneticists who created me 

through artificial means combining human and animal genetic materials. David 

Columbo assisted them during the early days of their research and some years 

after my parents were killed he returned to Liberty and found me living there 

with The Changelings." 

"An’ who are they?" 

"I found my father’s records, books, notes and computers and educated myself. 

The hunger for knowledge became a raging burn that I fueled by stealing 

technical manuals and texts from libraries and research laboratories. In time, I 

learned enough of genetics to create a family of human/animal hybrids such as 

myself that are called Changelings. I established several colonies of Changelings. 

One is in Liberty. There is another in The Colorado Rockies. David was going to 

help me establish another colony here." 

The Hulk snorted. He didn’t believe a word of it. Woodgod hardly looked 

capable of figuring out how a toaster worked, much less comprehending 

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advanced genetics on the level he was talking about. But he held his tongue and 

listened. And his pounding heartbeat gradually slowed. 

Woodgod was walking back and forth, hands clasped behind his broad back. "I 

knew David had problems. But I thought he had found a measure of peace here. 

We would stay up late into the night talking about how we would educate The 

Changelings and make them into a better race than humanity. David was very 

disappointed with his own kind and the way that genetic research had been 

misused in the country. But I had no idea he was depressed to the extent that he 

would kill himself and his family." 

It occurred to Woodgod that his guest had suddenly become awfully quiet and 

he turned just in time to catch the naked emerald form of Bruce Banner. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

His mouth was extremely dry as he slowly regained consciousness. Bruce was 

lying on a low cot and he felt sore all over as if somebody had been beating on 

him with a giant meat tenderizer. He struggled to sit up and was helped by 

Woodgod who appeared as if by magic. Bruce marveled at how quickly and 

quietly he could move on those hooves when he wanted to. 

"How do you feel?" Woodgod’s concern was obviously genuine as he helped 

Bruce to a sitting position. 

"Sore. Tired. Terribly thirsty." 

"I’m not surprised. Here." Woodgod passed over a plastic gallon jug of water and 

Bruce lifted a hand to take it. And stopped. He stared at the hand and the arm 

attached to it as if he’d never seen either before. 

The arm and hand were no longer green. It was white. Bruce looked at his other 

arm, his torso. True, he was still hairless but his skin had returned to its normal 

color. Bruce looked up at Woodgod in wonderment. "What happened to me? Did 

YOU-" 

Woodgod smiled. "When you collapsed I examined you to make sure your vital 

signs were stable. While I conducted by examination I took the liberty of 

restoring your normal skin pigmentation." 

"How’d you know that green wasn’t my normal skin color?" 

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"Come now, Dr. Banner. I may have isolated myself from humanity but that does 

not mean I’m not aware of events in the world. Especially the many 

superhumans who inhabit the planet. And due to our first meeting I took a 

special interest in you and your alter ego. If I hadn’t been so consumed with rage 

at finding my friends dead I would have recognized you. I’ve certainly seen 

enough pictures of you to know who Dr. Robert Bruce Banner is." 

Bruce smiled through his acute embarrassment. "You’re right. And I truly 

apologize. I should be thanking you for your help. You’d think that I out of all 

people would know enough not to judge by appearance." He held out a hand 

and Woodgod shook it. 

"I suppose you were heading to town when I attacked you?" 

"Yes I was. If you could provide me with some clothes I’d be most grateful. I 

have to get to Seattle as soon as possible." 

Woodgod nodded. "Why not stay the night? Rest and get your strength back. I’ll 

fetch fresh clothing for you from David’s cabin and in the morning I’ll show you 

where David’s jeep is. You can take it. I have no use for it." 

"I didn’t see a jeep." 

Woodgod grinned. "There was no reason for him to keep it near the cabin since 

there’s no roads there. If you don’t know where to look you’d never find the 

shed where he keeps it stored. I’ll show you where it is. There’s a decent goat 

path that will take you to the access road and you can link up to the interstate 

from there." 

"I don’t know how to thank you." 

"No need, Dr. Banner. No need at all." Woodgod did not think it prudent to 

inform Bruce that as far as Woodgod was concerned he had already been 

thanked by the DNA samples he had extracted from Bruce while he was 

unconscious. His overwhelming scientific curiosity wouldn’t allow Woodgod to 

let such an opportunity slip away and four vials of Bruce Banner’s DNA were 

safely locked away where Woodgod would examine them at his leisure. 

Woodgod’s smiled widened as he said: "Absolutely no need to thank me at all, I 

assure you." 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

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The morning sun felt damned good on Bruce Banner’s face as he turned the jeep 

onto the access road. He lifted a hand in farewell to Woodgod, who stood on a 

large boulder, haloed in the light of the rising sun. Then he turned and simply 

disappeared into the forest. Bruce blinked in astonishment. The leaves of the 

dense foliage hadn’t so much as rippled. He’d had some pretty bizarre 

adventures in the time since that fateful day when he had been caught in that 

gamma blast but the last couple of days had been right up there in the top five. 

But now he had fresh clothes, a vehicle with a full tank of gas and his skin was 

normal, enabling him to be able to operate without restrictions. And now he 

would most certainly be able to find The Leader in no time at- 

Bruce slowed down, peering at the road ahead of him. There was a mist ahead 

and while early morning mist wasn’t anything to get excited about, the fact that 

this mist was a deep, sinister crimson certainly was. Bruce stopped the jeep and 

rubbed his eyes. His vision wasn’t anything to brag about without his glasses but 

there was no mistaking the fact that there was a crimson mist obscuring the road 

ahead of him. Bruce wondered if this was the result of one of Woodgod’s 

experiments…but no, surely Woodgod have mentioned it to Bruce if that were 

the case. 

As if it had been waiting patiently for him, the crimson mist hungrily extended 

tendrils of gossamer consistency that nonetheless wrapped around Bruce’s body 

like semi-transparent tentacles that seemed to possess the consistency of steel. 

Bruce thrashed and fought in the grip of the mist that was slowly engulfing him 

as if it were a living thing hungering to devour him alive. The world was 

vanishing in a crimson haze and Bruce’s panic did its usual job and flooded his 

gamma radiation saturated cells with adrenaline and the roar of The Hulk made 

the trees vibrate. 

And then there was silence. 

Only the jeep remained, its engine quietly idling and there it would stay until it 

ran out of gas and shut itself off. It would be found five days later by Woodgod 

who would then spend two whole days searching for some trace of Bruce Banner 

with no luck. 

The crimson mist was gone and whatever it was had taken The Hulk and Bruce 

Banner with it. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

- Page 14 of 15 -



NEXT ISSUE: The Hulk AND Bruce Banner find themselves split in two and lost 

in a forest of hideously horrible mutations! How did this happen? Who did it to 

them? And more importantly, can The Hulk and Banner work together to stay 

alive and figure out what's going on? 

- Page 15 of 15 -

7 - Incredible Hulk Library

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