"Hellboy was too intimidated by the pressure being applied to his arm and his memory of the effects of the pain to do anything but to acquiesce to Bill's orders. He stumbled from his seat at the picnic table and walked with Bill toward the SUV without giving any indication that he was being forced to do it.Bill opened the rear door and pushed Hellboy to the floor of the vehicle without releasing his arm. Bill applied some force to another pressure point and Hellboy fainted from the pain. Bill took this opportunity to bind his wrists and ankles and gag him. The door was slammed closed, and Bill drove away without anybody noticing, at least anybody who cared. Meanwhile, the bodyguards did not regain consciousness until Bill had driven away. If any of the high school kids had noticed what had happened to Hellboy, they certainly were not going to make a ruckus about it—he had no friends at the school!Bill drove to the abandoned building where he had his apparatus set up and woke up. He could still see evidence of his struggle with the sea in the ruins of the boat, but he saw the humanity of that struggle now from a new perspective, and of the little boats resurrection sat defiantly on the beach as proof of not just his mortality but of God’s certain justice. The fisherman lived in the scrub-brush hills above a village on the southeast coast of Cypress, he owned in a small hut near an olive grove on a craggy hill that looked down on the sea. He had built the house for himself and his wife less than twenty years ago, after they had fled their homeland – Palestine – in 1967. The old fisherman lived alone now, he had for several years now, he still sat by the stone on the earth most evenings – the stone that covered his wife – while he said his prayers to Mecca. He continued to fish these days as he continued to breath: it was a habit that was hard to break, and there was – really – no alternative to the suffering of this life. But now, for the old man, his means of.
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