Road Trip To Hell

Doctor, Doctor

Cover: A pile of dead, mutilated bodies, all wearing army uniforms. Donovan Wilde sits on top of the pile, smiling. Caption: "Welcome to Hell"

he dusty and slightly battered sportscar bounced into clearing, finally coming to a merciful halt. Dominating the clearing before it was an old, run-down cabin that sat literally in the middle of nowhere. The narrow 'road' leading to it had ended several miles back, with the remainder of the distance being a maddeningly slow and turbulent trip through grass, rocks, and small trees. When it was over, the Mitsubishi 3000GT looked like it had been rolled down the side of a mountain.

The cabin wasn't small, but it was ancient and worn down by one too many seasons in the rugged mountain climate. Half of the front porch had already collapsed, and the walls didn't look too far from suffering the same fate. Holes... some of them quite large... had been poorly patched with old boards and even pieces of wood that had been dragged in from the forest. The roof sagged so severely in one place that it must have been supported from within... since it couldn't possibly remain intact on its own. The windows had no glass. Boards and raw lumber covered most of them, but one in the front was left open. The faint breeze had sucked the ratty curtain out into the open air, where it flapped around like a dirty flag. The front door was a piece of thin plywood hanging from a single hinge near its upper corner.

The door flew open as the car's engine shut off. A tall, muscular man rushed out onto the porch. He had a young face, but he hid it behind an unruly beard that hung almost to his chest. The beard was unkempt, but clean... as was the dirty-blonde ponytail reached to the center of his back. He wore the tattered remains of what must have been blue jeans at one time. They contrasted sharply with the red-and black flannel shirt that he was buttoning. The shirt looked brand new... as did the thick leather boots he wore. The man frowned at the car... then hopped down from the porch.

"BRING HIM IN!" he shouted as he jogged toward the visitors.

The car doors were already open. Ashley was trying to pull Jason Brooks' unconscious body out of the bloody passenger's seat. She wasn't having much luck. His body was just so much dead weight in her thin arms. She glanced at the cabin, then at the man running toward them.

"I thought you said we were taking him to a DOCTOR!" she seethed.

"I did," Sebastian replied. "He IS a doctor."

"But this isn't-"

"What the hell TOOK you so long!" the man bellowed. He calmly... but not gently... elbowed Ashley out of the way and scooped Jason Brooks up in his arms. "I heard you comin' a mile away! What'd ya do, stop for a snack?"

"Would have made it sooner if it weren't for that obstacle course you call a road."

"It keeps out the undesirables... most of 'em, anyway. Who we got here?"

"Donovan's successor," said Sebastian. "Jason Brooks. And this is Ashley."

"I-" Ashley began.

"She's a telepath," Sebastian added.

Ashley instantly felt the strange man's mind clench shut. She'd been scanning his surface thoughts as she usually did when she met someone... but after Sebastian's comment, all she got were indecipherable flashes of color and an extreme... EXTREME... sense of unwelcome. His intent couldn't have been plainer if he'd taped a "KEEP OUT" sign on his forehead. His calm, even expression never changed, however.

"Thank you, Sebastian," she said with a sarcastic sneer. "Thank you sooo much."

the 'doctor' carried Jason back toward the cabin with quick but careful strides so as not to jostle the unconscious patient.

"What happened to him?" he said. "Looks like somebody tried to drag him down the interstate."

"We'll find out when you do," said Sebastian. "When he wakes up."

"If he wakes up. He's lost a lot of blood."

"We noticed," said Ashley. She was covered in it. Sebastian had managed to stop the bleeding before, but it had started again when they hit the tortuous trail leading up the mountain. She'd been trying to apply pressure to the wounds in the car, but she simply lacked enough hands to deal with them all.

"Looks like some internal damage, too. Broken ribs. Concussion. He ain't in good shape... And moving him just made it a lot worse."

"We had no choice," Sebastian replied.

"You never do-"

"Excuse me," said Ashley. "Would you mind just telling us who the HELL you are!?"

"Michael Goode," the man replied. "Keep to the right and watch your step..."

They'd reached the steps leading up to the porch. Dr. Goode took them two at a time, and Sebastian did likewise... placing his feet almost exactly where Dr. Goode had placed his. Ashley tried to follow suit-

CRACK!

A rotted board gave way under her weight. Her ankle went through the jagged hole, right into the moist darkness beneath the porch. She started to fall, but Sebastian reached back and caught her arm.

"He said to watch your step," Sebastian growled. He pulled her up onto the porch, then turned to follow the doctor... but Ashley hadn't let go of his arm. She yanked him back toward her-

"WAIT a minute!" she hissed. "YOU said we were taking Jason somewhere to get HELP! I assumed that meant a HOSPITAL-"

"You assumed wrong."

"Who IS this guy!?"

"He's a friend. He's a doctor. And I trust him."

"I thought you didn't have any friends."

"I didn't say he was MY friend... I said he was A friend. And he's all we've got."

"We've got enough gas to get to a hospital! And why'd you tell him I was a telepath!?"

"Because you are. Unless something has changed in the past few hours that I don't know about-" Sebastian snatched his arm away from her and opened the front door, which had swung closed behind the doctor. Behind it was...

...another door. Thick. Metal. Painted black. It was slightly ajar, and Sebastian pushed it open with noticeable effort.

The room beyond was the exact opposite of what Ashley expected.

There were no holes in the walls... no sagging ceiling... no rotting boards. Nothing even remotely like the impression she'd received from looking at it from the outside. In fact, the inside of cabin wasn't even constructed from wood. The walls were rock... large, rough stones joined together with mortar. If it weren't for the window... of which there was only one... Ashley would have almost sworn that she was underground. The cabin was smaller than it appeared from the outside, and Ashley quickly figured out why: The outside of the cabin was a facade. The REAL building was hidden beneath a decrepit, but realistic-looking outer shell that masked the cabin's true size and construction.

There wasn't much furniture, but what little there was was curiously sturdy, being made of either wood, metal or stone. There was no glass in the house at all. No ceramics. Very little cloth or plastic.

"What is this place...?" Ashley mused aloud.

The doctor walked through the front room to another metal door in the rear. The latch had a strange push-button combination, which he quickly entered.

"I got it." Sebastian grabbed the door and pulled it open, revealing what looked almost... but not exactly... like a hospital examination room/laboratory. There was an examination table (metal), a desk (metal), a safe and a file cabinet (both metal), a refrigerator, and a large wooden lab table. On the table were two microscopes, a centrifuge, and several other instruments that Ashley couldn't identify. Over in a far corner was a smaller wooden desk with an impressive-looking computer sitting on it.

"Wow..." said Ashley.

The doctor placed Jason on the table and began examining him.

"Type," he ordered. Sebastian took a sample of Jason's blood and walked over to the lab table.

"I stabilized him as best I could," he said as he performed the tests to determine Jason's blood-type.

"I taught you better than this," the doctor replied. He was removing the bandages that Sebastian had applied... they looked perfect to Ashley. She certainly couldn't have done any better.

"Time was short."

"How long has he been unconscious?"

"Almost the whole trip," said Ashley. "He woke up a few times, but he just babbled... I couldn't pick up any thoughts..."

"This is bad. This man needs a hospital."

"See, I told you-" Ashley started.

"You know the dangers of that," said Sebastian. "He has the save Gifts that Donovan had... bring him to a hospital and you'll place everyone in danger."

Dr. Goode sighed and continued his examination in silence.

"He needs blood."

"Do you have his type? O-Positive."

"He doesn't want what I've got. He'll have to settle for plasma. In the fridge."

Sebastian retrieved a bag of blood plasma from the refrigerator while Dr. Goode inserted an IV into Jason's arm. In a few seconds, the plasma was flowing into Jason's body via a long, plastic tube. Dr. Goode continued to poke and prod... and even brought his nose close to Jason's skin and sniffed a few times. And all the while, Jason didn't move a muscle. If it weren't for the irregular rise and fall of his chest, Ashley would have sworn he was dead. She tried to peek into the doctor's mind to see what he thought of Jason's injuries, but she always got the same thing: Nothing. The man had almost as much control over his thoughts as Sebastian did. Of course, she could just smash through his defenses and TAKE the information she wanted...

"His ribs aren't as bad as they look," said the Doctor. "That's the good news. Everything else is bad."

"Can you help him?" Ashley asked. Dr. Goode looked at her, then turned to Sebastian.

"Get her out of here," he said.

"Ashley-"

"HEY! I'm not-"

"Wait outside," said Sebastian.

"Jason is MY friend, I'm not going to-"

"If I have to start cutting on this boy, are you gonna stand there and make sure I put all the innards back where they belong?"

"Uhhh..." Ashley looked for some kind of confirmation from Sebastian, but he just looked at her with the same intense glare that he always did. She didn't think she could stay and watch the doctor work, but she couldn't NOT stay, either. She couldn't leave Jason helpless with Sebastian and some total stranger who CLAIMED to be a doctor, no matter how much fancy equipment he had.

The doctor sensed her hesitation.

"Get. Out." he growled.

"Why?"

"Are you a nurse?" said Dr. Goode.

"No. But this isn't a hospital, and YOU'RE probably not even a real doct-"

"On the wall behind you. Read it on the way out."

Ashley looked behind her. There, hanging in a simple frame, was a diploma. From Emory University, College of Internal Medicine. The name on it read: 'Michael C. Goode.'

"Oh. But ANYONE can have one of those print-"

At that point, Sebastian grabbed her by the shoulder and shoved her out of the room. He pulled the imposing metal door closed and locked it before she could rush back in.

"HEY! DAMMIT!"

Ashley sent a few angry thoughts into Sebastian's mind, but he ignored them and continued to shut her out completely. So she resorted to a more direct method of making herself heard:

She pounded on the door and screamed.

"HEY! I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME!!!"

If they heard, they didn't answer.

"SEBASTIAN! YOU ASSHOLE!"

But then, Sebastian probably already knew that.

"FINE! I'M WARNING YOU BOTH: IF SOMETHING HAPPENS TO JASON, I'LL TURN BOTH YOUR BRAINS INTO PISTACHIO ICE CREAM!! AND I MEAN IT!!!"

"an she really do that?" said Dr. Goode.

Sebastian shrugged.

"Just how strong a telepath is she?"

"Strong enough to be dangerous."

"How dangerous."

"Extremely."

"So why are you carrying her around with you? Telepath or not, she's not built for our kinda work."

"Easier to keep an eye on her."

Dr. Goode nodded and applied another bandage.

"Your timing could have been a little better, you know. We're gonna have some problems when the sun sets."

"I know. You were our only option."

"There's always more than one option," said the doctor. "Otherwise it isn't an option at all. Speaking of options... I lied a little while ago."

"Lied?"

"His injuries are bad. Even stabilized, he could still take a turn for the worse. But they aren't as bad as I let on. I exaggerated things a bit."

"Why?"

"Why did you bring him here?" said the doctor.

"Because-"

"Before you answer that... answer this: You said this Brooks guy was the old man's successor. Does that mean what I think it means?"

"Donovan is dead."

"And THIS guy got the whammy instead of you. How'd THAT happen?"

"Brite."

Dr. Goode made an unpleasant face, as if he'd smelled something rotten.

"That overgrown leech? Don't tell me HE'S still running around..."

"He's as dead as he can be."

"You?"

"Brooks did it. Much to my surprise. His, too."

"Then he can't be ALL bad," said the doctor. "Which brings me to my original question..." He looked up from Jason's body and locked eyes with Sebastian. "I don't claim to know everything about how this deal of yours works, but it seems to me that you have a vested interest in seeing that this guy doesn't get off this table."

"What are you saying?"

"Don't play like the thought hasn't crossed your mind. I can smell it on you. But if you wanna play coy, then I'll run it down for you: This guy has something you want, only you can't have it until he's dead. He dies, and the Gifts get passed on. So you figure you'll hang around this guy until he messes up so you can get the goods. One day, he finally gets himself roughed up pretty bad. Maybe he'll die... maybe he won't. But maybe ain't good enough. So you either bring him here for me to fix him up... or you bring him here so I can finish the job and make it look convincing for the lady. Which is it?"

"I'm surprised you'd even ask me that, Goode."

"Surprised that I'd ask, or surprised that I figured it out? Just because I live in the woods, doesn't mean I'm stupid."

"Would you do it?"

"Kill him? No. Let him die from his injuries....? That's usually up to the family. Looks like you're the closest thing he's got right now."

"But would you do it?"

"You, me, and the old man go way back. I owe the both of you big-time. But this guy..." Dr. Goode glanced at Jason. "I don't know him from a hole in the ground. And I don't owe him a goddam thing."

Sebastian stared down at Jason's blank, unmoving face.

"So," said the doctor. "What's it gonna be?"

shley didn't like this.

She didn't like Jason being this helpless.

She didn't like the doctor. There was something not right with him, and Ashley couldn't tell what it was.

She didn't like this cabin It smelled strange. It wasn't one of those odors that faded into the background over time.. no, this just got worse and worse. It was a musty smell... like an animal. Or a zoo. And she didn't like the way that the whole place was built on a deception. Much like the doctor himself, she suspected. But why?

She'd settled herself into one of the doctor's amazingly uncomfortable chairs, and kept trying... and failing... to pick up whatever thoughts were going on on the other side of the door.

That room.

Why did this man have all that expensive medical equipment in the middle of nowhere? He was only a few pieces short of having an entire hospital. For who? Certainly not for himself.

Or was it?

The lab door opened. Sebastian and the doctor walked out.

"Don't you DARE shut me out again!" Ashley blurted as she got to her feet. "I want to see him, NOW!"

Neither the doctor nor Sebastian tried to stop her as she walked past them into the back room. Jason was still laying motionless on the examination table. The plasma IV was still slowly emptying itself into his arm. He was breathing. Slowly. Weakly.

It hurt to see him that way. Jason was always so lively... always talking and joking. But now he was... inert. Even his brain was still; Ashley couldn't pick up so much as a random flash or thought. Nothing. It was as if he wasn't there at all.

What if he wasn't?

What if he never woke up?

"C'mon, Jason..." she said as she continued to probe for signs of consciousness. "Wake up. Gimme a sign... tell me what's going on in there..."

he stench of war.

Blood and sweat.

Gunpowder and machine oil.

Fear.

Death.

Jason crouched in the trench, keeping his head low and his eyes shut. He didn't want to see. He wished he could shut off the rest of his senses as well... so he couldn't feel the ground shaking from the explosions. Or hear the men screaming as they died. Or smell their flesh as it burned.

But he couldn't. He trembled with each explosion. Every scream or barrage of gunfire sent him crouching further down in the relative safety of the trench.

And the smell. The smell was the worst... so bad that it bled over into his other senses. The air had a thick, metallic taste, as if someone had taken an old, tarnished penny and jammed it under his tongue. The taste was so strong that, for a moment, Jason thought he'd somehow bitten his tongue in half without realizing it.

An exploding artillery shell tossed thick clods of blood-drenched dirt down on top of him. Jason stifled a yelp. The blast had been close.. and they'd been getting closer for... days? hours? How long?

It didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was-

"My... you DO have a flair for the dramatic, don't you." said Donovan.

"Wha-" Jason turned.

There was a pile of dead bodies... and pieces of bodies... not far behind him in the trench. Donovan Wilde sat atop the small stack of corpses as if it were a conveniently-placed park bench.

"Of course, the real thing is much, much worse. You've never been in a real war, have you? That would explain it..."

"What are you doing here!" Jason whispered.

"You're here," Donovan replied. "Although you probably have no idea where 'here' is. Or how you got here. OR what you're supposed to be doing now that you ARE here."

"The mirror! I'm back in the mirror agai-"

"No. Not the mirror."

Jason thought for a moment. Bits of memory floated just out of reach. He tried to grab hold of them... but every time he got close, they fluttered away like startled moths. He knew who he was. He knew who Donovan was. He had only a faint idea of what the 'mirror' was, but it felt like a good answer at the time. Unfortunately, it was wrong.

"I'm dead," said Jason. "Aren't I." It was more of a statement than a question. Instead of an answer, Donovan just sat there and stared at him. "I'm dead."

"Well..." Donovan said after a while. "Not quite. Your body is still alive... somewhat.... but your soul has decided to take a little vacation. Why it chose THIS place is beyond me."

"So I'm not dead."

"You're not really 'alive' either. Only in the strictest medical sense."

"Speaking of sense... you're not making any."

"Glad to see you brought your sense of humor along," said Donovan.

Another artillery shell turned the ground to jelly beneath Jason's feet. The impact was closer this time. Much closer.

"Could you stop doing that?" said Donovan. "All the screaming and bombing.... It's very distracting."

"Tell that to THEM! I'M not doing anything!"

"'Them', who?"

"The...." Jason suddenly realized he had no idea who was on the other side of the trench. This was a war... but who was the enemy?

"You don't know?" said Donovan. Jason shook his head.

Donovan sighed.

"It's so very obvious, Jason-"

"I don't even know where I am! You say I'm not dead... but that's not telling me what's going on!"

"I can't tell you. All I'm supposed to do is help."

"Well HELP, dammit!"

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"The mirror. No... no, the dragon. I was falling. I fell and- wait... there's something else-"

A barrage of machine-gun fire erupted from the battlefield. Someone screamed as the bullets tore them in half. When the screaming stopped, the gunfire continued... streaming over the top of the trench like deadly, white-hot fireflies. The gunfire got louder... closer.... finally ending in another tremendous explosion. Dirt, blood and shrapnel rained down on Jason.

"AAAA!"

"Now THAT one was pretty realistic," said Donovan, nodding appreciatively.

"Will you stop critiquing my nightmare and GET ME OUT OF HERE!"

"This isn't a nightmare, and you have to get yourself out."

"But I don't even know where I am!"

"You're between," said Donovan. "You want a straight answer; there it is. You're not dead... you're not alive. You're somewhere in between, trying to decide which way to go. Satisfied?"

"That's crazy! I want to live!"

"Do you?"

"Yes!"

"Then why are we sitting here?"

"Because I want to live! I'm not going out there!"

"Out there is where life is, Jason."

"No! They're KILLING people out there!"

"'They' who?"

Jason stopped.

"This is... this is one of those crazy metaphysical things, isn't it?"

"I thought that was fairly obvious."

"So none of this is real..." Jason started to stand up-

"Of course its real."

Jason sat back down.

"Okay, so now what?"

"You tell me."

"You... you want me to go out there and..."

More gunfire obliterated the remainder of Jason's sentence.

"I want what you want, Jason. This is your life."

"Oh, so NOW its my life! You stick me with this supernatural crusader, demon-fighting CRAP... nearly get me KILLED... and NOW its my life!?"

"You're in charge here, Jason. I can't make you do anything you don't want to do."

"So now that I'm DEAD, I finally get to have some say-so in my own life, is that it?"

"If that's the way you want to look at it-"

"You aren't helping me, Donovan. In fact... for somebody that's supposed to be watching my back, you've been missing-in-action a whole lot, lately. The mirror-"

"You didn't want to see me... so you didn't see me."

"And then..." Jason was on the verge of remembering something. "...wait a minute... there was one more time..."

Somewhere on the battlefield, a man screamed.

"What's going on out there?" said Jason

"You already know. You just don't want to confront it. Just like you don't want to remember what happened to you."

"What are you talking about? I'm TRYING to remember, but every time-"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEE-" Someone else died in a spray of gunfire.

"See," said Donovan. "You keep distracting yourself."

"I'M not the one out there slaughtering people!"

Donovan just looked at him.

"What!?" Jason demanded.

"You tell me."

"Tell you WHAT!? Tell you about the mirror?! Tell you about how I killed my brother!? Tell you about how I fell down a hill and some guys tried to KILL me and-"

An incredible explosion sent shockwaves through the trench. Part of the dirt wall collapsed suddenly, nearly burning Jason. He scrambled out from under the dirt... dirt that was riddled with maggots and bullets and blood... and crouched near the pile of bodies where Donovan sat. Then he looked down and saw that he was standing on someone's severed hand.

"AA!"

Jason kicked the hand... it flew out of the trench, and as soon as it was out in the open a hail of bullets intercepted it, turning it into a spray of thin red paste. What eventually hit the ground wasn't even recognizable as flesh.

"Good GOD! What the hell IS that out there!"

Donovan looked down at him.

"Ignore it, Jason."

"IGNORE it!?"

"Its out there. Its real. And it can kill you. But right now there's something more important you have to deal with."

"WHAT! WHAT IS IT!?"

"I don't know for certain," said Donovan. "I can make a good guess... but even if I knew for sure, its better that you figure it out for yourself. And the first step is to remember what happened."

"I'm TRYING!"

"They tried to kill you, and then what happened, Jason-"

BOOOOOOM!!!!!

"AAAAAAAA!!"

"What happened Jason?" said Donovan, oblivious to the explosions going off all around them. "What happened?"

BOOOOOOOOOMM!

"I... I KILLED THEM INSTEAD!" Jason shouted.

There was an ominous lull in the sounds from the battlefield. Then the gunfire and screaming started again with renewed vigor. It was getting closer. It had ALWAYS been getting closer, but now, whatever was happening was moving toward him with a vengeance. He heard footsteps among the screams. Hurried, frantic footsteps... and the mechanical whirrrrrrrrr of the machine gun as it cut its victims to bloody chunks with a stream of hot lead.

It was coming.

For him.

"It's COMING!"

"We don't have much time. Where's your gun, Jason?"

Jason's hand sought the holster at his waist. The holster was there, but it was empty. It had always been empty.

"I-I don't have one."

"Don't you think that odd?" said Donovan. "A soldier on the battlefield... without a weapon?"

"I... I'm not a soldier."

"Then why are you dressed like one?"

Jason looked down at his uniform. He didn't notice he was wearing one before Donovan pointed it out.

"I'm not a SOLDIER!"

"The first lie. Yes, you are. You've been given Gifts and weapons to fight an enemy... you're a soldier. Accept it."

whirrrrrrrrrr-

RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-

"I'm TRYING to accept it!"

"Then why are we here?"

"I DON'T KNOW!"

BOOOOOOOOOOOMMMM!!!!!

"Yes, you do. What were you trying not to remember?"

"Those men! I killed them! I admit it! WHAT else do I need to do to get out of here!"

"The second lie. You didn't kill them."

"I made them kill each other! Same difference!"

"They were going to kill you."

"That doesn't make it right!"

RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT

whirrrrrrrrrrr....

RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-

"AAAEEEEEEIIIIII!"

More white-hot bullets screamed overhead... followed by the crunch and splash of thundering footsteps approaching the trench.

...crunch... crunch... Crunch...

"Then why'd you do it?" said Donovan.

"Because..."

"Because you didn't have a choice, perhaps?"

"I DID!"

"What was the other choice... die? Not an acceptable option, given the importance of your mission."

"So, because I'm some kind of supernatural knight, my life is more important than theirs?"

"That... and the fact that you didn't kill two women and bury them in the woods. You did what you had to do, Jason. I would have done the same. Sebastian would have sliced all three of them into unrecognizable pieces. Ashley would have most likely turned their brains into strawberry jam. But you-"

"I'm not any of those people. I... I don't even LIKE guns!"

"Why not?"

"What do you MEAN why not!? You KNOW why!"

...Crunch...Crunch...CRUNCH...

RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-

"You killed your brother-"

"TWICE! I killed him TWICE!"

"The mirror-world was just an illusion!"

"It was REAL! It was real to my HEART! My head tells me it was an illusion, but my SOUL tells me that I pulled out a gun and SHOT my brother... AGAIN! And THEN I kill three people in cold blood!"

BOOOOOOM!!!

The explosion threw Jason to the ground... which continued to shake for several seconds-

"They aren't the first people you've killed, Jason," said Donovan. "Brite's disciples... remember them?"

"But they were DIFFERENT!" Jason said as he stumbled to his feet.

"How?" Donovan didn't sit idly by and wait for an answer. He stood up, descended the pile of corpses, and calmly started to walk away.

"They weren't in CONTROL of themselves," Jason shouted over the gunshots. "WAIT! WHERE ARE YOU GOING!"

"This is all the time we have, Jason. I'm sorry..."

CRUNCH....CRUNCH...CRUNCH...

"-Your body has reached its limit. Now its time for you to decide."

"DECIDE WHAT!?!"

"Live or die."

"DECIDE!? But that THING is coming-"

"You already know everything you need, Jason. I can't help you any more. Not with this. Now, its up to you..."

The shadows reached out and claimed Donovan Wilde.... and Jason found himself alone in the trench.

There was an mind-rattling silence for an instant. Then a loud:

-Booom!-

Followed by the ear-splitting scream of something descending toward him.

"YAAAH!" Jason leapt out of the trench an instant before the artillery shell hit. The explosion turned the trench into a firepit... the shockwave caught Jason in mid-air and propelled him several yards before finally releasing him to the gentle graces of gravity-

"UNNGH!"

Jason came very close to landing on his face... but his chest caught the impact instead. Gasping for breath, he rolled onto his back to finally catch a glimpse of the thing that had nearly incinerated him.

The trench that Jason had just evacuated was now a wall of smoke and oily flames. At first, Jason saw nothing of the thing that had launched the attack...

...but then the smoke began to clear.

Then he saw it... standing there looking back at him...

"Oh, my God," Jason gasped... "OH, MY GOD!!"

uddenly, Jason's entire body clenched. His chest and abdomen rose up off of the table... muscles straining so hard that his stitches tore and his wounds re-opened. His mouth opened in a silent scream...

...and a powerful bolt of fear electrified his previously quiet mind.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!" Ashley screamed... partially for herself, but mostly for Jason... who's fear had used her mental probing to invade her own psyche. Jason was screaming through her mouth. "AAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!"

Sebastian and the doctor rushed in just as broke contact with Jason's mind.

"What's happening!" said Ashley.

"Convulsions!" Dr. Goode put his hand on Jason's chest and shoved him back down onto the table. Jason's legs began kicking frantically... as if he were running for his life. His chest heaved as he fought back against something in his mind. "Secure him! SECURE him before one of those ribs punctures a lung!"

While the doctor leaned on Jason to keep him down, Sebastian tied Jason to the table with thick leather straps that were conveniently hidden just out of sight. He pulled the straps tight, but Jason still struggled and strained against them

"Stop him!" said Ashley. "He'll HURT himself! He needs a sedative!"

"NO!" Dr. Goode snapped. "This is the first sign of life we've seen... and you wanna snuff it out with drugs!?"

"But his BANDAGES! He'd BLEEDNG again!!!"

Blood had soaked the bandages, and was flowing freely from some of the wounds.

"Sebastian..."

Sebastian fetched some fresh bandages and started to apply them as Dr. Goode held Jason still. The convulsions ended before they were done. Jason lay still once more.

"You should have sedated him!" said Ashley. "I'm not a doctor, but I know you don't let sick people go into CONVULSIONS like that! What... are you TRYING to kill him!?!"

"If I wanted him dead, he'd be dead," Dr. Goode replied. "But he isn't. Not yet."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Means what it says. He isn't dead. Yet. I've treated him for shock. Dressed his wounds. Wrapped up his ribs. And got some blood flowing in his veins. The rest is up to him. All we can do now is wait for him to make up his own mind whether he wasn't to live or die."

He was lying.

Ashley only caught a piece of it... not even a full thought. Just a feeling. An emotion. Deception.

The doctor was lying. He was holding something back.

"What did you do to him?" said Ashley. "What did you do when I left the room?"

"I just said-"

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO JASON?!"

"I TOLD YOU!" the doctor yelled. His voice was a lot louder than Ashley's.

"LIAR!"

"WHAT... YOU'RE GONNA COME HERE AND ACCUSE ME OF SOMETHING IN MY OWN HOUSE!?!"

Dr. Goode looked expectantly at Sebastian.

Sebastian just looked confused.

...and perhaps just a little bit worried.

"You're in on it, too," Ashley snapped. "BOTH of you! You're up to something! You DID something to Jason!"

"No," said the doctor. "He helped him. We did all we could-"

"YOU'RE LYING!"

"Ashley-"

"That's IT!" said Ashley. "That's IT! I don't know what's going on here, but I want answers and I want them NOW!"

"You've got all the answers you're gonna get, little girl," said Dr. Goode. "You don't come in here and start swinging that attitude all over the place like a damn-"

Ashley hit him. She opened up her mind and hit the doctor with the mental equivalent of an icepick to the groin.

"AAAAAARRRRGH!!!" The doctor staggered backwards.

"What did you do to Jason?"

"I didn't-"

Ashley twisted the icepick. Then added several more.

"AAAAK-K-K-K!" The doctor dropped to his knees and huddled in a corner... shivering...

"WHAT are you hiding! Trust me... you DON'T want me to go in and GET what I want..."

"Ashley STOP!" Sebastian reached out for her. She hit him with the same thing. Sebastian stopped... winced... and shrugged off the pain like it was nothing. He grabbed her arm just below the shoulder and squeezed it hard enough to instantly cut off the circulation. "You don't know what you're-"

A deep, guttural growl issued from the far side of the room, where Dr. Goode still crouched in a corner. The doctor's new flannel shirt bulged grotesquely as he rose... finally splitting down the back with a loud

-rrrriip-

Beneath the shirt was... not skin... but a thick mat of dark fur that grew denser and coarser before Ashley's stunned eyes. More cloth ripped. The remains of the doctors tattered pants fell around his clawed feet. The feet were no longer human... and neither was the body they supported. The doctor had transformed into a bestial, half-human thing that turned and snarled at Ashley... roaring with all the ferocity of an angry lion:

"GRAAAAAAAAAA!!!"

"...Ooops..." Ashley gulped.

[To Be Continued]

copyright 2005 by Dark Icon Entertainment