Blood Feud

Part One: Fallout

he silence was almost perfect.

Jason shifted uncomfortably in his chair, and the brief creak of the wood as he did so reverberated through the tiny motel room like a loud cough.

Sebastian's eyes... which hadn't left Jason since they had returned just after dawn... sharpened slightly. For some seconds preceding that moment, Sebastian's normally unwavering stare had been... wavering. He'd been merely 'watching' Jason instead of trying to stare a hole through him. The unexpected sound put an end to whatever unspoken wanderings had drawn the boy's attention, and once again Sebastian's gaze peered across the cheap wooden table separating him and Brooks.

Ashley... who had been silently studying the carpet in the vicinity of Sebastian's boots... lifted her face to quickly glance from Brooks to Sebastian and back again. Then she went back to the studying the carpet.

The near-perfect silence continued for another ten minutes before Jason disturbed it again... this time with his voice.

"Uhhh..." he began.

That was all he said.

Sebastian continued staring at him. Ashley didn't move.

...fifteen minutes later:

"Ummm," Jason said tentatively. His throat was dry and his voice was a low rasp.

Sebastian's fingers curled around the hilt of the sword resting on the table.

Jason looked at the silver blade, then decided to speak anyway.

"...are we gonna just sit here?"

"Yes," Sebastian replied.

"All day?"

"Most of it. An hour before sunset we'll go out and secure you again."

"S-secure me," said Jason. "You aren't gonna impale me with that sword again, are you?"

"That is my intention, yes."

"Oh," said Jason. "...okay. That's... that's fine."

Silence. Again.

Sebastian stared at Jason. Jason stared at the sword.

Ashley wiped her face with the back of her hand, then looked down at the moisture on her knuckles.

"Oh, God..." she sniffed. "I'm doing it again."

"Ashley," Jason said, almost pleading. For a moment it looked as if he was going to get up. A hard look from Sebastian disabused him of the idea. "Ashley, I'm sorry. It's all my fault-"

"No." Ashley shook her head. "It's MY fault. I... I'm sorry, guys; I can't do this..." Ashley got up and ran to the bathroom. Even though she slammed the door behind her, her sobs were still clearly audible in the room.

"I screwed up..." said Jason. He looked down at his shoes and shook his head. "I screwed up bad..."

"Yes," Sebastian said. The normal cold edge in his voice was colder and sharper than it had ever been. "You did."

"Everything that happened. I... I try to look for a way for it NOT to be my fault... but I can't find any."

Jason tried to look at Sebastian's face, but it was like trying to stare down his own father. It was all Jason could do not to whimper and curl up in a corner.

"I left her. I... I told her not to use her powers, and then I just... I just disappeared. And to her it doesn't even matter that you showed up to stop it. I still abandoned her and that guy still... did what he did. And its all because of me-"

"Stop talking," Sebastian said with a scowl.

This time, Jason managed to look at him.

"That stuff I said to you last night, I didn't mean-"

"You meant it. You just didn't mean to say it. So stop talking before you say something else you'll regret."

"I'm sorry..."

Jason looked for some sign of forgiveness from Sebastian, but all he got was the same cold stare.

The bathroom door opened, and Ashley wandered into the room as if she were lost. She dabbed at her eyes with crumpled wad of toilet tissue, looking very much like she hadn't stopped crying until AFTER she'd opened the door. When she saw Jason and Sebastian staring at her, she sniffed back a sob... wavered unsteadily on her feet for a moment...

"I'm sorry guys..." she wept. She walked quickly toward the table-

-where she paused and looked from Jason to Sebastian, clearly uncertain as to which of them she wanted to go to.

Sebastian reached out, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her toward him. Away from Jason.

"Don't get close to him," he said. Ashley wrapped her arms around his neck and cried into his shoulder. Sebastian allowed her to do so without a word... glaring at Jason Brooks the entire time.

"Everything's changed, hasn't it?" said Jason. "I mean, here I was thinking that my life as pretty much toast, that things can't get much worse than running around killing demons until one of them finally kills ME... but now this happens. And then Ashley and... and you and... and Donovan... Everything's just falling apart."

"No it isn't," said Ashley. She turned her head to look at Jason. "We'll find a way to turn you back human again. Right, Sebastian?"

"There is no-"

Ashley cleared her throat.

"-if there's a way," Sebastian corrected himself. "We'll find it."

"And what about you?" said Jason. "How do we turn YOU back, Ashley?"

"I'll be fine."

"But I-"

"It wasn't your fault."

"I let it happen. It was my fault. If-"

"I told you to stop talking," said Sebastian.

"Sebastian, don't be mean to him-"

"This situation can be salvaged," said Sebastian. "But YOU have to stop being sorry and get control over yourself."

"Oh yeah!" Jason said sharply. "THAT advice from a guy who goes nuts and chops somebody into pieces because he can't follow daddy's footsteps-"

Silence.

"-uhhh, I didn't mean to say that. Ashley, tell him I didn't mean- Tell him to stop looking at me like that!"

"You're still out of control," said Sebastian. "Which means you're still dangerous. And I'll look at you any way I want."

A loud rumble from the parking lot interrupted Sebastian. The sound started softly, but got loud very quickly... and then it was joined by a long, mechanical squeal and a short hiss.

Sebastian stood.

"Hold on, before you go stabbing anybody..." Ashley glanced out of the window beside the table. "Some redneck just pulled his big truck right up next to the-"

Silence again.

"What?" said Sebastian.

"...no way..." Ashley gasped.

"What?!"

"It's HIM!"

Ashley darted around Sebastian and snatched open the hotel room door.

"YOU!" she shouted. "You've got some nerve coming here! You stop right there, don't you dare-"

Sebastian nudged Ashley aside... nudged, but didn't shove... and positioned himself between her and the door. He frowned. An instant later, he stepped back.

"Don't let him in here!"

Ashley's cry went ignored as a huge hulk of a man dressed in tattered jeans and a dirty flannel hunting shirt squeezed into the doorway. He had a dusty backpack slung over one massive shoulder The man's thick beard looked like the nest of some deranged bird, and his eyes burned with an intensity that almost matched Sebastian's.

"Sorry I'm late." The man spoke in a reluctant almost whisper, but his voice was still a rumble.

"You!" Jason repeated Ashley's cry almost exactly. He was on his feet the instant he saw the man-

-and by the time he blinked his eyes, the tip of Sebastian's sword was at his throat. Jason's skin burned where the silver blade nicked his skin.

"Sit," Sebastian ordered.

"Get that blade out of my face and get THAT GUY out of my room!"

"You KNEW, didn't you!" Ashley screamed from behind Sebastian. "You KNEW you'd turned Jason into a monster! That's why you're here!"

"Everybody shut up," said Sebastian. "And sit down."

"I can't believe you're letting him in here!" Ashley sat down on the edge of the bed and folded her arms across her chest in silent protest. It was clear from her posture that she was not happy, and that she was going to find a way to demonstrate that unhappiness at the first opportunity.

Jason hovered around his chair for a moment, then slowly sat down... with the tip of Sebastian's sword never straying from his throat. When Jason was firmly seated in the chair, the blade returned to its scabbard on Sebastian's hip.

Silence returned to the room. Three pairs of eyes glared at the figure in the doorway.

"How'd you find us, Goode?" Sebastian said finally.

"You never could hide from me," said Dr. Goode. "Just drove past every cheap hotel in the city and stuck my head out the window-"

"Who CARES how he found us! I wanna know how he's gonna get this thing OUT of me!"

"It doesn't come out, boy," said Goode, finally stepping over the threshold and into the room.

"Call me 'boy' again and I'll twist your arm off and shove it down your throat," Jason growled.

"Oh, that'd just piss me off," said Goode. "That's not somethin you wanna do this time of the month... as I'm sure you're already aware."

"Oh, I'm aware... I'm aware you've turned me into some kind of werewolf!"

"WereBEAST," Goode corrected. "And it wasn't supposed to happen that way."

"Oh really? I was supposed to turn into a monster some OTHER way?"

"YOU said he'd be okay!" Ashley fired at him from the bed. "YOU said-"

"-his resistance to magic would keep him from... from turnin' into me. Well, I was wrong." Dr. Goode kicked the hotel room door shut. Sebastian reached past him to lock it. "Call it a miscalculation."

"MISCALCULATION!!?"

Brooks was on his feet again. Sebastian moved toward him, but Goode held out his hand.

"Easy with the swordplay," said Goode. "He's got a right to be mad."

"Damn right I'm mad!" Goode was twice Jason's size, but Brooks didn't seem to notice or care as he walked up to the larger man. "You injected me with your drugs-"

"Saliva, actually."

"-and turned me into a monster! I'm supposed to be killing demons, but now I'm running around KILLING people! Now I AM a demon!"

"Werebeasts aren't demons."

"I thought my life was ruined before... but somehow YOU'VE managed to screw it up even more than Donovan, did!"

"Well now, there's an accomplishment. Do I get a plaque for that?"

"JOKES!? You're making JOKES!?!"

"This isn't funny, Goode!" said Ashley. "Do you even KNOW what you've DONE!?"

"He knows," said Jason. "He knows exactly what he did, and he's gonna UNDO it right NOW!"

"Sorry boy... I'm here to help, but that's not the kind of help I can give."

"I TOLD YOU-" Jason's left hand clamped around Goode's throat, and his right hand drew back in a fist.... but the fist unclenched, and claws popped free of the flesh around Jason's fingertips. "DON'T-"

Dr. Goode calmly reached around and grabbed Brooks by the back of the neck. The doctor stepped to one side and shoved Brooks toward the mirror behind him. It looked as if he was going to drive Jason's face through the wall, but Goode's fist stopped at the last second, leaving Jason face to face with his own reflection. Jason's face had already started to change. The scaled thing staring at him from the mirror wasn't human.

Jason gasped and pulled back, but Goode held him.

"Lesson One:," said the doctor. "Take a good look at what happens when you loose control. Kinda ugly, ain't it? There's only one thing in the world that can keep THIS from happening... that's you. So if you wanna learn how to keep this face buried deep where it belongs, then you'll sit down, shut up, and listen to what I've got to say."

Goode pulled Jason back away from the mirror and shoved him back toward the table. Jason stumbled, but quickly regained his balance and took an angry step toward Goode.

"Now don't go gettin' any ideas that just because we're both monsters that you can kick my ass," Goode warned. "You can't. Next time you go through the wall. And the time after THAT... then I get ugly. And my ugly is a lot uglier than yours."

Jason considered for a moment... then sat down.

"Like I said, you've got a right to be angry. There's no cure for what you've got, and it's my fault that you've got it... but I was trying to save your life at the time, so maybe you can spot me a few karma points for good intentions."

"You said this wasn't going to happen!" said Ashley. "You promised!"

"I didn't promise anything, girl," said Goode. "Now I didn't exactly expect a warm welcome, but I sure as hell didn't come all this way just to fight with you people. I said I can help, and I can."

"How?" said Jason. "How can you possibly-"

Goode reached into his pocket and pulled out a small leather case. It was the size and shape of a small book, but it had a zipper running along three sides. He tossed it to Brooks.

"Open it." said Brooks.

Jason opened it. Inside was a hypodermic needle and four vials of a silver-colored liquid. It looked almost like mercury.

"What's this?"

"Not a cure. Animal tranquilizers laced with silver. Concentrated. Burns like hell going in, but if you inject all four just before sunset it'll keep you quiet for most of the night."

Jason stared at the vials.

"I can get you more," said Goode. "But eventually you'll build up a resistance to it. Doesn't work for me at all any more; I've graduated to stronger stuff."

"So this is your 'help'?"

"It's a start. It's more than you had before I walked through that door. And it'll keep you from wakin' up in the morning with the taste of somebody's throat in your mouth. That ain't a pleasant taste, as I'm sure you know by now."

"No, sorry," said Jason. "I don't."

"You keep him locked up all night?" Goode asked Sebastian.

"Most of it. But he still-"

"-killed a lot of people," Jason finished. "I just didn't EAT any of them!"

Goode's hairy face frowned, and he stroked his beard.

"You didn't feed?" He said.

"He's been eating like a horse all week," said Ashley.

"But I didn't eat any PEOPLE, if that's what you're asking."

"Animals? Livestock?"

"Lasagna mostly," said Ashley.

Goode shook his head.

"That doesn't sound right. Are you sure-"

"I remember every bit of it, and I'm sure," said Jason. "Why... you WANT me to go around eating people? Is that what YOU do?"

"Oh, I've eaten a few. None lately. And you say your memory of last night is clear? No blackouts?"

"Why are you asking so many questions? I thought you were here to help ME?!"

"That's not normal," said Goode. "The beast feeds. Doesn't matter how much you've eaten before; it's instinct is to eat. It's a predator... it hunts, and it feeds."

"I hunted some drug dealers," said Jason. "But I shot 'em. I didn't eat 'em."

"You... used a gun?"

"He could change back and forth," Sebastian explained. "Human to beast and back again. And he could speak."

"No, no, no, that's not possible," said Goode.

"I saw it," said Sebastian.

"What do you mean its not possible? You can do it, right?"

"Not during a full moon. That's when the beast is at its strongest. There's no controlling it, then."

"He's different," said Sebastian. "He had control. He just didn't use it."

Goode clearly wasn't pleased by what he was hearing, but the look on his face was more of curiosity than anything else.

"The beast is a separate entity," he said to Jason. "It lives inside you... like a separate personality. During the full moon, it displaces your normal personality completely. It takes over-"

"That's not what happened," Jason replied. "It was more like... like I was being corrupted. I was still in control, but it was a DIFFERENT me. An... an evil me."

"Hmmm..."

"What's 'hmmm' mean?"

"It means maybe your resistance to magic did something for you after all. What, exactly, I don't know... but if what you say is right, there's something unusual going on inside you-"

"You mean BESIDES than me turning into a monster and killing people?"

"Yeah, besides that."

"So can you cure him or not?" said Ashley.

"I'm not sure. I'm not even sure what he is now. I'll need another blood sample for-"

"I don't think so," said Ashley. "You've done enough damage already-"

"Here." Jason stuck out his arm. "Take as much as you want as long as it'll help cure me."

"Eventually I'll cure both of us," said Goode as he lowered his backpack to the floor and opened it. He snatched open the rusty zipper and pulled out another hypodermic needle and several more vials... these were empty.

"I can't believe you're listening to him," Ashley said as Goode slid the needle into Jason's outstretched arm.

"Me neither," said Jason. "But unless you or Sebastian or 'He Who Shall Not be Named' has a werewolf-cure stashed away somewhere, this guy is my only chance."

"'He Who Shall Not Be Named?'"

"Long story. Don't ask."

"This business is full of long stories," said Goode. He was filling the second vial with blood. "That's one thing I don't miss about it. Nothing's ever simple. And nothing's ever over. You think YOU'VE got long stories? We fought things that can't die at all. Heh... just when you think you've got something killed good and proper...."

"Reminiscing about the good old days?" Jason said, frowning.

"Sorry. We never did get a chance to meet properly last time. Me and Donovan was partners once-"

The sudden, silent chill in the air wasn't physical, but Goode must have felt it anyway. He glanced at Sebastian, then Ashley.

"'He Who Shall Not Be Named?'"

"Yeah," said Ashley.

"Guess I'll be shuttin' up about the good old days, then," said Goode. He returned his attention to Jason. "How's your hearing?"

"Why?"

"Your senses. Are they heightened, even in human form?"

"Yeah. You need a bath."

"You don't need to be a werewolf to tell that," said Ashley.

"I can tell what brand of deodorant the last three people who rented this room used," said Jason.

"Mmmhmm," Goode nodded. "What about your metabolism? Wounds been healing faster than normal?"

"Not really."

Goode slid the needle out of Jason's arm. He didn't bother with a bandage or antibiotic... there was a single spurt of blood, and the wound closed... healed as if it were never there.

"Membership has its privileges," said Goode. "Enjoy 'em. Enhanced senses. Regeneration. With the exception of silver and magic, you're immortal. Of course, in your line of work-"

"But my senses weren't heightened until lately. And I didn't heal any faster, either. Before the full moon, I was just... normal."

Goode raised a bushy eyebrow.

"Maybe you just didn't notice."

"Last week, I couldn't see or hear or smell any different than anybody else. Now, I..."

Jason paused. He and Goode both turned toward the window at the same time. The thick curtain was drawn shut, but they both stared at it.

"Somebody's coming," said Goode. Outside, a car pulled into the parking lot. A door opened, then closed. Footsteps...

"Relax, Sebastian," Jason said. "It's just Dobbs."

"Whoever 'Dobbs' is, she smells like a cop," said Goode. Then, he smiled. "She smells cute, too..."

Someone knocked on the door.

Goode was closest to it. He leaned over, pulled the door open, and flashed a deeply sinister smile at the detective standing outside.

"Well hello there, little lady. Whatever you're sellin... I'll take all of it."

Dobbs gave the scruffy giant a long stare, then looked past him and spotted Sebastian and Ashley.

"So how did YOU find us?" said Sebastian, scowling.

"Brooks told me where you were staying."

"He WHAT!?"

"Uhh.... yeah," Jason confirmed. "I did."

"We gotta talk," said Dobbs. "I'm comin' in."

"Hold on a minute," said Goode, who showed no intention of getting out of Marilyn's way. "What do you say boys and girls... do we let the cop in?"

"You got something to hide?" said Dobbs.

"A man always has secrets, darlin'. I'll show you some of mine if you show me some of yours."

"Let her in," said Jason. Goode glanced at Sebastian. Sebastian nodded, and the doctor stepped aside.

"Who's this clown?" said Dobbs as she hobbled into the room. Marilyn had traded her crutches for a simple black cane with a curved, metal handle.

"Dr. Michael Goode." Goode extended his hand. Dobbs looked at it, then ignored it. "Want me to take a look at that leg for ya? I'm real good with my hands. And other things."

"Keep your hands... and your other things... away from me."

"It's because I'm white, isn't it?" said Goode. He shut the door and followed Dobbs into the room... eyes fixed firmly on her rump. "Don't let the appearance fool ya... there's not a prejudiced bone in my body. In fact-"

"If you say that some of your best friends are black," Dobbs looked over her shoulder at him. "I will hurt you,"

"That's not what I was gonna say." Goode smiled. "What I was gonna say was that I actually prefer-"

"Back off, Lassie," said Jason. "She's not interested."

"Ohhhhh..." Goode sniffed the air in Jason's direction. "Sorry. Didn't know she was taken."

"I'm not taken-"

"Oh yes ya are," said Goode, still smiling.

"Who IS this man!?"

"I already said, I'm Michael G-"

"I know what you said... but who the hell ARE you?!"

"He's with us," said Sebastian.

"So he's into the whole... demon-hunting thing?"

"Retired," said Goode. "I'm more into research now."

"That your truck out there?"

"Why... you wanna take a ride?"

"And what would I find if I were to take a look inside."

"Medical supplies," said Goode. "And a lot of dirty underwear."

"What kind of medical supp-"

"Why are you here?" Sebastian interrupted.

"I'm here because I got a phone call last night." Dobbs seemed to think for a moment, as if she weren't sure about what to say. Then she continued. "Technically, I'm not back on the force for another week. But seeing as how we're running short on experienced people... they need all the help they can get. I'm a temporary consultant now, pending my full reinstatement."

"I'm happy for you," said Sebastian, clearly not giving a damn.

"Right now I'm 'consulting' on a warehouse fire last night? Anybody here know anything about it?"

"No," said Sebastian. "Why would we?"

"You wouldn't. Or... you shouldn't. The place was a cover for the mob. They sold drugs to most of the high-level dealers."

"So why are you asking us about it?" said Ashley.

"Because the place burned almost to the ground, but not one of the corpses inside died in the fire. Most were shot. Some were... dismembered."

"Sounds like typical Mafia stuff to me," said Goode.

"Then there's a shooting at a club. A man gunned down in a parking lot. Victim's description matches one Jason Brooks."

"Obviously it wasn't me," said Jason. He stood up and spread his arms to either side. "See... no holes."

"Description of the assailants matches known associates of Ronald Cole... drug dealer," said Dobbs. "The funny thing is, one of the few bodies we could immediately identify at the warehouse was ALSO a known associate of Ronald Cole."

"Sounds like this Cole guy is who you need to be looking for," said Jason.

"We are. But somehow... I don't think we'll find him."

"Why's that?" said Ashley.

"Because shortly after the start of the fire we had reports of Cole's car speeding away from the scene. It was being chased by..." Dobbs paused again. "...well, nobody knows what exactly. The descriptions range from 'dinosaur' to 'mutant panther', but whatever it was, a lot of people saw it... especially after it chased Cole's BMW onto a crowded highway at speeds in excess of 150 miles per hour."

Goode whistled.

"Now that's a fast beastie," he said. "I'm jealous. But I guess speed isn't everything."

"Cole's car left the road in the vicinity of the construction site out by the mall. We found the car. We found a lot of blood. But we didn't find Cole."

"Interesting story," said Jason.

"We ALSO found some motorcycle tracks," Dobbs added. She turned to Sebastian. "That your bike outside?"

"It is," Sebastian replied. "Why?"

"Just curious."

"So the word 'monster' appears in your investigation and you come see us, right?" said Jason.

"Yeah," said Dobbs. "Especially when a guy stumbles into the hospital with a concussion and tells a story about how he and two of his buddies were attacked in the woods. Those two buddies turn up dead. One looked like somebody had used him for a pinata. The other had been impaled by a tire iron. Through the spine.

"Ouch," said Goode. "That's harsh."

"All three are known associates of... guess who."

"This Cole guy sure had a lot of associates," said Goode.

"The survivor won't say what he and his friends were doing out there, but he did give a description of their attacker. One guess as to which person in this room fits that description."

Ashley glanced at Jason, and that was all Dobbs needed.

"So here's my thoughts on the whole thing," she said, turning back to Jason. "For whatever reason, 'somebody' decides they don't like drug dealers. This 'somebody' then proceeds to eliminate Ronald Cole's entire operation... from Cole himself right up to Cole's suppliers at the warehouse. That sound familiar to you, Brooks?"

"Nope," Jason replied. "Not at all."

"Were you at Club 2-12 last night?"

"You don't have to answer her, Jason-"

"Yes, I was," Jason replied.

"Did you get into an altercation with two drug dealers in the VIP balcony?"

"They were assholes."

"Did you go out to the side parking lot later that night?"

"Yup," said Jason. "I was looking for Ashley. I didn't see her, so I went elsewhere."

"So you DIDN'T get into a gunfight with Cole's men?"

"No-"

"You didn't take two or three shots to the chest... shots that probably lodged in whatever body armor you happened to be wearing? You didn't get thrown into the trunk of a car? You didn't wake up in the woods with three over-muscled goons who hadn't bothered to notice that you weren't dead? You didn't dispatch the afore-mentioned goons, steal their car, and drive it to a certain warehouse downtown where a mysterious fire erupted... AFTER everyone inside had been shot and/or dismembered?"

"And then what did I do?" said Jason. "Turn into a monster and chase Cole down the highway at a hundred miles an hour?"

Jason smiled.

Goode smiled.

Ashley smiled.

Dobbs did not smile.

"This is serious, Brooks."

"Sounds more like a movie script," said Jason. "Gonna get Will Smith to play me? Or maybe Vin Diesel..."

"This is for real. Real people are dead... not your imaginary demons."

"Oh, so now we're back to everything you saw being a figment of MY imagination?"

"Everything I saw when? The incident with the 'hallucinogenic nerve gas'? Or the whole 'telekinetic bullet' fiasco?"

"Take your pick."

"Just because I can't find a logical explanation for something doesn't mean its all demons and magic. The world doesn't work that way, Brooks. Demons aren't real. But vigilantes.... those are real."

"Well, you're not looking at one. Your whole scenario sounds pretty good right up until the part where the monsters show up. Speeding dinosaur-panthers, Dobbs? Come on... you can do better than that."

"So you tell ME what is was."

"Full moon last night," said Jason. "Maybe it was a werewolf. Oh, excuse me... were-lizard-panther."

"Okay," said Dobbs. "And maybe you also have a theory on what happened to Paul Norman's arm?"

The silence that fell across the room was cold and uncomfortable. Dobbs looked around. Ashley avoided her eyes. Sebastian was staring at her.

"Who?" said Goode.

"Paul Jacob Norman," said Dobbs. "College student. Somebody threw him out of his apartment window last night. That was AFTER they made him scream loud enough to make the neighbors call 911. We scraped him off the top of his own car and spent a while looking for his arm before we realized it was still upstairs."

"Bitten off?" Goode asked.

"Good guess, but no," Dobbs replied. "Sliced. Pieces of it were all over the living room. Fingers. Hand. Chunks of his forearm and bicep. Somebody cut him up like a hunk of roast beef. We're all waiting for him to wake up and tell the tale, but-"

"He's still alive?" said Ashley.

"Oh yes. And when he finally wakes up, I'm gonna be there with a pen and a notepad, waiting for the description of his attacker. But then, I've already got a theory on who did the hack-job. I'm not an forensic's expert, but I know what kind of damage a sword can do to a human body."

"You're reaching," said Ashley. "You have no idea what happened to that guy's arm-"

"I happened to it," said Sebastian. Sebastian had been leaning against the wall by the mirror, but now he stood up straight and placed his hand on his sword.

"Hey, kid, this is a cop," Goode began. "Careful what you say-"

"I don't care what she is," said Sebastian. "The man you're asking about was attacking Ashley. I stopped him."

"By cutting off his arm and throwing him out a window?"

"Yes," said Sebastian. His eyes met Marilyn's, and the detective tried to stare him down.

"You're admitting that-"

"Yes." Sebastian didn't flinch or look away. His eyes flashed with anger as he took a step forward. Dobbs didn't move, but she looked as if she wanted to. "He was a predator, and I'm sure Ashley wasn't his first victim."

"This true?" Dobbs asked Ashley."

Ashley nodded.

"He was... he drugged me. He was going to-"

"What I gave him was a fraction of what he deserved," Sebastian finished. "There... now one of your cases is solved. You should be happy."

"Are you serious?" said Dobbs.

"Why would I lie?"

"You... just admitted to trying to kill a man."

"A rapist."

"Is still a man-"

"Slightly less of one now," said Sebastian.

Goode chuckled.

"This is FUNNY to you people!?" Dobbs snapped.

"No," said Sebastian. "It isn't funny when I have to do your job. You're supposed to protect people... not from demons, because that's what we do.... but from other people. People like the man you're asking about. So while you're interrupting our business asking us about a rapist who picked the wrong victim, maybe you should be asking yourself why it had to be ME who stopped him? Where were the police? Where were YOU? And those other men who died last night... No one asked any questions when they were murdering people or selling poison, but when something bad happens to THEM... Here You Are."

"Sebastian, calm down," said Ashley. "It's okay."

"Yeah, what's the matter with you, boy?" Goode's huge hand appeared on Sebastian's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "What's this about, eh?"

"It's about us having to do her job AND ours," said Sebastian. "Protect and Serve... isn't that what you're supposed to do? Protect and serve WHO? Drug dealers? Rapists?"

"There are laws in this country," Dobbs said evenly. "Sometimes I don't like 'em, but I have to enforce 'em nonetheless. If somebody gets blown up, ripped in half, or thrown out a window, I have to find out who did it and punish them no matter WHO the victim was. Or how much they deserved it."

"So what side does that put you on, then?" said Sebastian. "Good or evil?"

"You're naive. Law isn't about good or evil; it's about order and chaos. I'm on the side of order... and in an orderly society people don't go around torching warehouses just because drugs get sold in them. They don't dismember rapists or impale drug-dealers with tire irons, either."

"So what are you going to do now?" said Sebastian. "Arrest me?"

"Ye-"

"You try, and you'll wake up wearing a loaded diaper in a padded cell next to Henry Sharpe," said Ashley. "Remember him?"

"Is that a threat?" said Dobbs.

"No," Ashley replied cooly. "You don't believe anything we tell you is real, so how can it be a threat?"

"We're not criminals, Dobbs," said Jason.

"Oh?" She pointed to Sebastian. "THIS man has attacked me at least twice. I kicked his ass the first time, and the second time he was smart enough to hit me from a distance."

"So arrest him," said Jason. "Arrest all of us. That's why you came here, right? You had your theory all worked out and you just came here to pick us up. All by yourself. Right?"

Dobbs studied Jason for a moment, frowning as she did.

"What's happened to you?" she said.

"What do you mean?"

"There's something different about you."

"Rough night," Jason said, smiling. "Too bad you decided not to join me... could have been interesting."

"Funny how ya didn't bother to answer the important question," Goode interrupted. "You here to arrest these people or not?"

"No," she said. "I came here to ask questions. I didn't expect to get any sane answers, but I figure I might get lucky."

"We're short on sanity these days," said Jason. "Come back in a week."

"So now you've got a dilemma on your hands," said Goode. "All that 'order and chaos' bull sounds pretty good in philosophy class... but here in this room you've gotta pick a side. Good and evil are your only two options. Pick the right one, and we can continue to have a civil conversation. I think we'd all prefer that to the alternative."

"You people love making my life difficult, don't you?"

"Only because we like you," said Jason.

"Ashley?" said Dobbs. "Are you going to press charges?"

"Why?" said Ashley.

"The situation has been handled," Sebastian added.

"Has it? There's a man in a hospital who's going to wake up and give me your descriptions... yours and Ashley's. When he does, then we'll have a problem I can't ignore that as easily as our little conversation here."

"We'll worry about that when it happens," said Ashley. "Anything else you wanna know?"

"Yes, actually." Dobbs looked around the room. "Any of you know anything about a giant robot that killed three people last night?"

or the first few minutes, it seemed as if some of the abominable silence from the crowded hotel room had crept across the parking lot and seeped into the turbo charged black Corvette... lodging itself into the narrow space between Jason and Sebastian.

Of course, the fact that Jason was in the car at all was the result of a heated discussion that began when they finally convinced Detective Dobbs to leave, and ended when Jason and Sebastian left to investigate the detective's 'killer robot'.

They had both assured Dobbs that they knew nothing about any such creature. Of the two of them, only Jason was telling the truth.

"Iron Wraith," Sebastian had said as the detective's car was pulling out of the parking lot. "Humanoid with a metallic exoskeleton. Covers the entire body except for the eyes. Incredibly strong. From a distance it looks like a suit of armor. But to someone who's not familiar with armor..."

"Killer robot," Jason had finished. Then he added: "I think we should go check it out."

That's when the argument began.

It centered around the precise meaning and intention of the word 'we'.

Sebastian wanted to track and destroy the demon himself. But he admitted that if the creature was an Iron Wraith, it would probably require someone with some supernatural ability to 'assist in its destruction'.

Ashley firmly insisted that she was not emotionally prepared for any sort of demon-killing. Neither Jason nor Sebastian challenged her on it. Ashley also hinted that she had something else to do. Both Jason and Sebastian pretended not to know what it was, and the subject was immediately dropped.

Dr. Goode reluctantly volunteered his services, but Jason objected on the grounds that any time spent killing Iron Wraiths was time that was NOT spent finding a cure. The fact that Goode had already been searching for a cure for several decades without finding one was brought up, discussed at length, and then discarded as being irrelevant.

That left one other potential combination of 'we'.

"I'll be fine," said Jason as they walked out to the car. "And if I'm not, we've got tranquilizers and you've got your sword."

"I'd rather not have to kill you," Sebastian grunted as he slid into the driver's seat.

Jason let the comment slide... mostly because he didn't know if it was a warning or a declaration of friendship.

"You know where Ashley's going, don't you?" he said instead. "What she's going to do?"

"Of course."

"If this was two weeks ago... or two weeks from now... I'd have a problem with it. But now..." Jason shook his head. "...whatever. Let's roll."

The black Corvette roared out of the parking lot and streaked down the empty road at more than twice the speed limit. Fifteen silent minutes later, the car pulled into an aging riverfront community with houses that were roughly the same vintage as their inhabitants. Dobbs hadn't given them the exact address, but even if Ashley hadn't plucked it from the detective's mind, the place would have been quite easy to find.

It was the only house there with a large hole ripped straight through the center of it.

The carnage had occurred early enough in the night so that the police, the press, and the neighbors had gotten their fill of the scene. The investigators had sealed the house with yellow "Crime Scene" tape draped over every opening and orifice... including the large one that was not a part of the original architecture. A few camera-wielding onlookers wandered the sidewalk, but there was no real crowd to speak of.

Still, when one man pointed a video-camera in Jason's direction, Jason struggled against the sudden urge to storm over to the man and give him a Sony Handi-Cam enema.

"Should we be walking around in the open?" said Jason.

"We won't have to fight," Sebastian replied. "The demon isn't here. If it were, all these people would be dead."

"Yeah, but you're walking around a sword on your hip. Don't you think that'll draw some attention?"

"Yes. And?"

"Never mind." Jason turned to growl at the man with the camera, then followed Sebastian up to... and through... the yellow police-tape barrier.

"Hey!" One of the onlookers called after them. "You can't go in there!"

Jason and Sebastian both turned and stared at the man. The man quickly found somewhere else to be.

As they approached the ruined house... a 2500 square foot brick-front ranch... they saw that the damage was more than they saw from the street. The gaping hole in the front wall was merely the exit wound. There was a similar hole in the rear wall, giving the appearance that someone had driven a car through the house. The interior was wrecked, with a large blood splatter clearly visible on the remains of the living room wall.

"Iron Wraiths usually make this big of a mess?" said Jason.

"Usually there's more blood," Sebastian replied.

"So how do we kill this thing."

"Destroy the eyes."

"Hell, I can do that with one shot."

"Not unless you have wooden bullets, you can't."

"Huh?"

"Wood is their only weakness. It's poison to them."

"Uhhh.... did we BRING any wood with us, Sebastian?"

"No."

Jason folded his arms over his chest in a clear effort to keep from popping Sebastian across the back of the head.

Sebastian took his eyes off of the blood-splatter in the living room long enough to give Jason an annoyed look.

"There are trees all around us," he said. The word 'dumbass' wasn't spoken, but it was understood.

"Ahh," Jason looked at the neat rows of trees separating the lot from its neighbors. "In that case, I can still do it with one shot."

Sebastian violated a second row of police tape and stepped into the house. Jason followed him.

There wasn't much to see, other than the smashed walls and shattered furniture. Sebastian examined the wreckage.

Jason sniffed.

Then sniffed again, frowning.

"Came in through there-" Sebastian pointed at the huge hole in the rear wall. "-turned and smashed through that wall into the bedroom. Killed the father. Mother ran into the living room. It caught her there by that wall. Daughter ran past both of them out the front door. It followed."

Sebastian turned and stepped back out into the front yard.

"Caught her here. This is where the neighbor saw it."

"Killer robot," said Jason.

"Grabbed her and carried her back inside." Sebastian looked down. The ground was dry and hard... not conducive to footprints. But there was something there.

"What the hell made that?" said Jason.

There was a series of deep gouges in the ground. Their shape was too irregular to be footprints, but their placement was eerily print-like.

"Looks like something... impacted the ground here. Hard," said Jason. He knelt by one of the marks and examined it. "Something heavy. Your demons make prints like these?"

"No," said Sebastian. He went back into the house. "More inside. Hardwood floors are cracked. Foundation, too. Whatever came through here was heavy."

"With feet like knives," said Jason. He stood up... then knelt down again. He leaned forward and sniffed the mysterious mark in the dirt. Sebastian watched him.

"Anything?"

"Metal and blood," said Jason. He sniffed again.

"That's helpful."

"Sarcasm. Nice. It fits you."

"It left the same way it came in," said Sebastian. He walked through the house and exited through the massive hole in the rear wall. "More tracks out here. Going back to the river...." Sebastian frowned. "That's not right."

"What?"

"Wraiths don't like water."

"I thought they didn't like wood-"

Sebastian gave a sigh of exasperation.

"You don't like seafood, but it won't kill you. Wraiths are the same with water."

"You know... Donovan could always explain stuff like that without making me feel like an idiot."

"See those trees?" Sebastian pointed. Whatever had come out of the river had pushed over two large oaks on the way to the house. "A wraith couldn't have done that. It'd be afraid to touch the trees."

"So our 'giant killer robot' isn't a wraith."

"Probably not." Sebastian followed the marks in the earth through the trees to the place where they disappeared into the water. Jason followed Sebastian... stopping every few yards to sniff at the ground, the air, or the trees.

"So what is it?" Jason said when he caught up with Sebastian. They stood at the riverbank near the last 'footprint'. Sebastian stared out at the water. Jason knelt and ran his fingers over the deep mark in the dirt. "I smell something familiar."

"What?"

"I'm not sure..." Jason leaned forward and sniffed the ground. Then he picked up a pinch of dirt from the track and placed it on the end of his tongue.

"Goode does that too," Sebastian said.

Jason extended a slender middle finger in Sebastian's direction.

"There's a possibility that this isn't a demon at all," said Sebastian.

"So what else would it be?"

"Giant robot."

"Sebastian, have you ever SEEN a giant robot?"

"Yes," Sebastian turned to Jason. "And so have you."

"I have?"

"Remember Pitt?"

"Pitt was a golem..." Jason thought for a second. "...which is just a magical version of a giant robot. You think somebody rebuilt him?"

"Not the same one. But golems aren't that hard to make. Controlling them is the difficult part."

"Well... it's a theory."

"Doesn't explain why there wasn't much blood in the house."

"I still say there's something familiar. There's a scent here... something I've smelled before."

"Person? Animal? Demon?"

"Person," said Jason. He tasted another pinch of dirt. "Definitely person. I think. But its faint... and it's mixed up with all that crap from the river. "

"These aren't the kind of tracks that would be made by an aquatic creature... so we can assume that it originally entered the water somewhere else. And that it'll leave the water again when it gets wherever its going. Where does this river go?"

"Upstream it goes past the sewer treatment plant. 'Bout seven miles that way-" Jason pointed. "Downstream, it wanders through the county and splits off into a bunch of different creeks that don't go anywhere in particular. But we don't even know which direction this thing was going."

"We'll have to search both."

"If we'll split up-"

"We're not splitting up."

"What... I'm not gonna wander off and eat anybody."

"I know you won't. Because you'll be with me."

"You know, this whole situation is bad enough without you treating me like a prisoner! You let Goode run around free, but-"

"It took Goode decades to control what he is. And because of the Gifts, we ddon't even know WHAT you or if you'll be able otocontrol it at all. So you'll stay with me. We'll start upstream-"

"For how long?"

"Until I know you're not a risk."

"And this demon that just killed a house full of people isn't a risk? We stick together and we'll take twice as long to find it-"

"Don't argue."

"Okay," said Jason. He pulled off his shirt and started unbuckling his belt. "You're right. I won't argue. Arguing is stupid."

"What are you-"

There was a ripping sound as remainder of Jason's clothing came free... torn by the claws that had suddenly appeared at his fingertips. Jason's limbs twisted free of the shredded cloth as Sebastian drew his sword-

The beast sprang past Sebastian before the silver blade left the scabbard. Sebastian swung the sword at Jason's back, but all he caught was the hhyena-likelaugh of the beast as it vanished into the trees.

oode yanked the doors open and pulled himself up into the back of his truck. Inside, the equipment he'd left running turned the mobile laboratory into a dark landscape of clicks, whirrs and beeps. To Goode's right was a switch secured to the reinforced and soundproofed wall with duct tape. Without looking, Goode reached out and flipped it. A row of dangling overhead fflorescentlights came on with a series of flickers and a low electrical hum that only Goode could hear. Below the lights were two long, narrow tables... each bolted to the floor of the truck. A thick electrical cord snaked down the center of each table like a backbone from which smaller cords fed power to computers, centrifuges, spectrometers, chillers, heaters and an array of other equipment... some of which Goode had designed himself.

All of it was bolted down.

On the far side of the second table was a cage. It was a monstrous thing, with two-inch thick titanium bars that were curved instead of straight. Just inside the bars was a an egg-shaped metal chamber. The 'shell' was dented in several places... as if something had tried to punch its way out. The egg sat atop a short metal platform, and a network of hoses connecting it to one of six metal tanks lining the wall outside the bars. Taken together, the aassemblylooked like something out of a spaceship. However the "Bad To The Bone" bumper sticker astuckto the side of the chamber spoiled the effect somewhat.

Goode pulled the doors shut behind him and walked to the computer halfway down the first table. He plopped his muscular bulk down onto the steel-reinforced stool and placed one of Jason Brook's blood samples into the medical centrifuge next to him. As the sample spun, he touched a key on the computer's keyboard. The NASCAR screen saver disappeared, replaced by a spreadsheet filled with numbers. Goode studied them. He stroked his beard, then scratched at the chin hidden beneath it.

"Pork futures..." He pointed to number on the right side of the screen, and then traced across with his fingernail. He smiled. "...easy money. Heh. Always bet on pork, Donovan..."

Goode looked up from the screen.

"...or is it 'He Who Must Not Be Named' now?"

"How are you doing, Michael?" Donovan Wilde's ghostly form materialized on the other side of the table.

"Better than you, from the looks of it," said Goode. He held his smile for a moment, then let if fade with a sigh. "...looks like I outlived another one."

"Yes. It does."

"Sorry I missed the funeral."

"There wasn't one."

"Yeah, I know. You never were big on the cceremonies but I figure... ya know... ya shoulda been sent off right." Goode shrugged. The motion turned into an uncomfortable squirm. "So how come you're not hog-tied to the new kid."

"There've been some changes," said Donovan. "My leash is a bit longer than it was."

"I'm happy for ya," Goode replied, although it was clear from his tone that he was not. He glanced at the computer screen again, and then watched the centrifuge spin.

"Still afraid of ghosts, Goode?"

"I wouldn't call it 'afraid' exactly," the doctor said... speaking into the centrifuge. "Me and ghosts just got bad history; you know that."

"I promise I won't break your heart or try to kill you."

"Hmph," said Dr. Goode, still speaking to his equipment instead of Donovan. "When you say it like that, it all sounds so... trivial."

"I'm sorry."

"It's more than just that," said Goode. "Dead is supposed to be dead, ya know?"

"That is very rarely the case in our line of work. You know that."

"That's why I retired." Goode stopped the centrifuge and removed the vial of Jason's blood. Jason's blood had now separated into its component parts. Goode opened a new box of glass slides and started preparing his samples for the microscopes.

"How'd it go inside?" asked the ghost..

"Better than I'd thought it would. They hate me, but they didn't try to kill me." Goode slid the first slide into the microscope. "I didn't do it on purpose, you know. I really did think it would change him-"

"I know," said Donovan.

"That last thing I wanted ta do was create another me. Last thing. I mean... I mean I'd have let the boy die if I really thought-"

"I know," said Donovan.

"I only did it to save his life. That's the only reason-"

"I know," said Donovan. "But you sound as if you need some convincing."

"It's just... it's just..."

"Just what?"

"Well... back in the cabin? For a second there, I thought that maybe... maybe if I injected the kid, his resistance would... would create some kind of magic antibodies that I could use to cure myself. Why I didn't think of that all those years I was hangin' around with you, I don't know... but the thought came to me. Only for a second."

"But that's not why you did it."

"No! No, I just... it was just a thought. For just a second. But when I took another look at that first sample and saw what I saw... that one second came flying back up in my face. Is that REALLY why I did it?.... not to help him, but to cure myself? Is that really why I turned that boy into a monster?"

"No."

"But for a second, it was! For that one second, that IS why I did it! For just that... one second..."

"Do you know what this means, Goode?"

"That I'm a bigger monster than I thought?"

"It means you still have a conscience. A soul. It's a good thing to have, you may want to hang onto it."

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess."

"So is there any ppossibilityof curing him?"

"Maybe," said Goode. "He's not exactly the same as me. That means its a definite maybe."

"Do your best."

"Ya know, you don't seem too mad about this whole thing."

"Concerned? Yes. Angry? No."

"Hmph. The Donovan I know would have me up on a cross by now. Hey, remember that time we crucified that vampire in Chicago? Wasn't that great!"

"He didn't like it too much."

"HA! And ya know what was even better? That time we chained a demon to the bottom of a baptismal pool. His skin kept blisterin' off and growin' back and blisterin' off again. And Soloman was jumpin' around screamin about how we were torturing the poor thing and then you said-"

"No, torture is when someone shows up tomorrow morning and has to clean all this up."

"HA! Heh... yeah, I guess it was funnier at the time."

"It's still rather humorous."

"Yeah. And then-" Goode shook his head. "Ya know... THATS why I don't like ghosts. You sit here and we get goin about the old days and then I slip and forget that you're dead. Then I remember, and its like ya died all over again."

"I'm sorry."

"I don't suppose ghosts drink beer, do they? I've got some of the good stuff..."

"No."

"Well that sucks."

"Being dead? Yes, it does."

"Well... I know you didn't come here to get me started about the good old days. And you don't really seem all that worried about Brooks."

"There is something I want, yes."

"Anything for you, buddy. Even if you're dead. Just ask."

"It's... it's personal," said Donovan. "It's about Sebastian."

"The kid?"

"Did they explain the... situation?"

"They explained that the whole world is pretty much pissed at you these days. Didn't bother saying why. I assume its got something to do with the Gifts he didn't get?"

"Gifts that he'll never get. Tainted souls cannot receive the power of a Knight."

"That's kinda harsh. I mean, I know there was that whole demon thing with his soul, but to call the kid 'tainted' is-"

"Nevertheless, my son will never be a Knight. I knew this from the beginning, but..."

"But you never told Sebastian. Until now."

Donovan nodded slowly.

"As a child, he was... empty. He had no desires, no motivations. He was an empty shell. He had discipline, but he had no direction. Naturally he wanted to be like me, and when I saw how much power that idea gave him, I-"

"You just let it happen and didn't bother tellin him that there was no Santa Claus. And when you finally DID tell him... he got mad."

"When you say it like that, it sounds so.... trivial."

Goode sighed.

"Man, I thought you wanted somethin' easy. This? I don't think I can fix this."

"I don't want you to fix it, I just want you to talk to him. For me. Explain-"

"Explain that his whole life has been a lie? A like that YOU told him? Hey here's a thought... how about YOU talk to him, Donovan? This is the kind of talkin' that needs to come from his daddy."

"I know. But he won't listen to me, and now Ashley has gotten involved and-"

"What... you scared of a girl?"

"She's Soloman's daughter."

"Yeah? And?"

"You knew that?"

"Of course I knew. Scents are genetic... sort of."

"Power is as well."

"She as strong as he is?"

"Stronger."

"Heh, now yer just bein' silly-"

"She is. She just doesn't know it yet."

"She know about me and you and Soloman?"

"Yes, I told her."

"She's sweet on your boy, you know that, right?"

"Yes, I'm aware."

"So..." Goode leaned forward over the table and spoke slowly. "Maybe there's some OTHER talk I should be havin with the kid instead, eh?"

Donovan looked confused.

"You know," said Goode. "The OTHER talk? The 'this part goes in there' talk?"

"Don't be absurd," said Donovan.

"Oh, you handled that one already?"

"Yes, of course."

"So it's just the 'my daddy lied to me for my whole life' talk that ya need, right?"

"You're being crude."

"Hey, its a full moon; I can't help it. And yeah... I'll talk to him for ya."

"Thank you."

"Ya know... with Soloman's daughter, and your boy, and the new kid.... it's almost like... it's like we've been reincarnated. Only we aren't dead. Well, you are, but you know what I'm sayin'."

"I've noticed the similarities and I don't think they are coincidental," said Donovan. "That's why I'm not overly-worried about Jason's condition. I think it was supposed to happen."

"That doesn't scare you?" said Goode. "I mean... we had some great times, but lets not fool ourselves. It was hell. Sometimes it was LITERALLY Hell. Remember that time-"

"I remember. I know."

"So if God or Whoever or Whatever is puttin' together a new crew... ya gotta wonder what the future's gonna look like for the three of them. If its half as bad as what we had to go through..."

Goode turned away from Donovan.

"...I wouldn't wish that on my son," he continued. "Or the daughter of my best friend. Or even some total stranger."

"What we wish is irrelevant. Except perhaps that some of us have the opportunity to pass on our knowledge so that the new generation won't be caught unprepared. That's why I'm here. I believe that's the real reason you're here as well."

"To help?"

"Yes," said Donovan. "Something is coming. I don't know what. But I do know that a Knight's true power isn't his skill with a weapon. It's fate. Fate always makes sure we're in the right place at the right time... and that we have the right resources that we need to do what must be done."

"That's what me and Soloman were, eh? Your 'resources'?"

"You were my friends. You still are. But now I need you to be what I am now."

"A ghost?"

"A mentor. To Sebastian... because he's listened to me long enough. And to Jason, because I don't think you'll be finding that cure any time soon. He'll need help confronting his new... status. Whatever it is."

"So that's what you really wanted, eh? You want me to stick around for Brooks and your boy?"

"Yes."

"You want me to stick, then I'll stick. But ya know, there's one-"

"Don't," said Donovan. The ghost had been sitting down, but now it stood. "That is an inevitability that I'd rather ignore for now. I think something is happening with Jason. I'm leaving."

"I'll see you around."

Donovan nodded, then stepped through the wall of the truck and was gone.

Goode ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. He thought silently for a moment, sniffed, then leaned forward and peered into the microscope in front of him.

"That's a pretty good trick," he said to the empty room. "He never even knew you were here..."

he alarm blared from one corner of the facility to the other, carpeting the plant with its shrill warning. With his radio clutched between his teeth, Vernon grabbed both handrails and swung his body forward down the stairs, going from top to bottom in one motion that would have sent the Safety and Health Inspector into immediate cardiac arrest. When his boots hit the concrete at the bottom of the stairs, he started running. Ahead, he could see Ralph darting across the grass. 'Newboy' Newman was ten steps behind Ralph, but was gaining fast.

Vernon un-clenched his teeth and grabbed the radio as it fell from his mouth. He pushed the button and shouted-

"WHAT THE HELL-" He started. He could barely hear himself over the siren... but now the alarm had some unpleasant competition.

Vernon had been working at the wastewater treatment plant long enough to know what trouble sounded like... and this was definitely trouble. Bad Trouble. Bad trouble was the low moan of metal yielding to some as yet uunidentifiedforce. It was the rapid clattering buzz of gears being stripped and the whine of motors burning themselves out. And worst of all, it was the 'k-klang' of something large and expensive tearing itself away from something larger and even more expensive.

The ground shook.

It wasn't an earthquake... it was a 'thud'. A single, monstrously huge 'thud' coming from somewhere below Vernon's feet.
With the exception of the four aerator tanks... each rroughlythe diameter of a football field... most of the water treatment facility was underground. Miles of pipes, motors, valves, tanks, and more pipes connected the city's sewer system to the river via multiple stages of filtration and chemical treatment. The complexity of it was staggering, but the entire schematic fit neatly in Vernon's memory as he tried to figure out what was happening. The 'thud' had been below and slightly behind him... which meant that something catastrophic was happening somewhere in a main discharge line.

That was good.

If there was a 'perfect' place for something catastrophic to happen, then that was it. Anywhere else could result in a release of raw or partially treated sewage into the river or... worse... into water table and THEN the river.

Thirty yards directly in front of him, Pump House #7 shuddered as if the concrete building had just caught a chill. The shudder was followed by a loud, metallic whine and the appearance of thick, unhealthily-black smoke puffing out from around the edges of the metal door. The metallic whine suddenly ceased as the motor causing it self-destructed, but the smoke kept coming.

Vernon stopped running.

Ralph and 'Newboy' were still sprinting-

-but now Newman was running the opposite direction. Hopefully he was headed for the main power building... but the nearby parking lot was an almost iirresistibletemptation.

"-hell's breaking loose down there!" the a voice screamed over the radio. It was the controller. His name was Robert, and he was an asshole. He was also on the verge of panic. There was a lot of shouting in the background of Robert's voice. That couldn't possibly be a good thing. "The main discharge valve went, and now everything upstream of it is coming apart!"

"It went?" Vernon called back. He wondered if Robert could hear him over the shouting in the control room. "What do you mean 'it went'? Motor failure?"

"No... It's friggin GONE, man!"

The Main Discharge Valve was a giant metal disc fifteen feet in diameter, connected to one of the biggest motors that Vernon had ever seen. The motor HAD to be big, because the valve was heavier than God. But now it was....

"GONE!?!"

"GONE!" Robert shouted back. "...then the effluent filters... then the flow diverters-"

The Flow Diverters were connected to the motor who's wreckage was currently smouldering in Pump House 7.

"-now that whole run of pipe is coming apart! Looks like somebody set an elephant loose down there! And its still moving!"

Vernon followed the imaginary 'elephant' through his mental schematic and knew instantly that the next thing to go would be the valves outside the mixing tank, where fresh river water was pre-mixed with 'clean' sewage prior to release into the river.

Something ahead of him... past Pump House #7... shuddered. It sounded like something rupturing deep underground. The vibrations shook the pipes in every building at the facility. A second, larger 'thud'... this one more like a 'thoom!'... split the concrete slab on which Vernon was standing. The slab extended beyond the burning pump house all the way to the aaerators.. however, the section of slab directly above the mixing tank had been replaced with a iron grate. When the last shock hit, the grate had flipped up into the air and come back down again.

Ralph was the closest man to it. He'd been holding a fire extinguisher in his hand... but now the extinguisher was on the ground and Ralph was running for cover.

Vernon wasn't moving. All he could do was watch, with his mouth open and his radio dangling from his limp fingers.

"GET OUT OF THERE!" Robert shouted over the radio.

The ground heaved upward. The crack in the concrete became a chasm as something else... probably the mixing tank... came apart, releasing its entire load of treated sewage and river water into the already ruined pipeworks.

If whatever was down there kept going, then the next stop would be a messy one. The one after that would be even messier. And if it STILL kept going... they'd have to evacuate everything downstream for the next thirty miles.

Vernon needn't have worried.

Robert's rampaging elephant had had enough of Rock Springs Treatment Facility #1. It was hungry, and it wasn't finding anything even remotely aappetizingin the iron innards of the sewage plant.

With a roar of twisting metal, the metal grate over the mixing tank and a sizeable chunk of concrete around it launched itself into the air. The sound alone made Vernon scream... not in fear, but in sheer awe.

The fear came a few seconds later when the thing below reached up, grabbed the edge of the shattered concrete, and pulled itself up into the morning light.

"...what... the..." Vernon stammered. The radio in his hand ssquawked Someone called his name, but he didn't hear it. He couldn't hear anything above the aawfulsound of metal being tortured into a grotesque parody of human motion. But the thing making the sound wasn't human. Human's aren't twelve feet tall with chunks of twisted metal protruding from their flesh-

But this thing didn't even HAVE any flesh. It was all a jumbled hulk of broken, misshapen steel fragments that somehow moved and flexed and... and exerted force enough to pull its entire mass out of the mixing tank and then stand upright like a man. Its legs were twin columns jagged shrapnel, every piece of which moved in a coordinated unison that was the creature's first horrible step in Vernon's direction.

Vernon's eyes widened. The thing had a head and, while there was no way that a jumble of metal shards could have a face... Vernon was absolutely certain that it was looking at him.

And it was a hungry look.

When Vernon didn't iimmediatelyrun screaming, the thing took another step.

Vernon turned.

The thing's flesh made a screeching sound as it moved... the screech of metal scraping against metal, as if every inch of it was sharpening itself.

And when the thing ran after him, it sounded like screaming.

When he first started running, Vernon was optimistic. Terrified, but optimistic. That thing... whatever it was... couldn't possible move as fast as a man. It just couldn't. He could get to the parking lot, start the car, and be halfway home before the thing even reached the aasphalt

But by the time he'd run six yards, he knew he was going to die. He didn't yet know exactly HOW, but he knew when.

The thing was fast. It was huge and heavy, but it ran like a speeding truck, and every step it took sent fresh shockwaves through the concrete. Vernon could hear the ground crumbling behind him. He could feel the thunderous booms each time one of the creature's feet came down.... and each time was closer than the last.

The thing's grating metal flesh screamed at him as it moved.

"OH, JESUS!" Vernon shouted. "OH J-"

Something dark and fast flashed past him. In his state of ccompletepanic, it seemed perfectly logical that it was Jesus in the flesh come to rescue him from the demon that Satan had shoved into the ass end of the water treatment plant like a giant metal suppository.

But Jesus wouldn't hiss like a ruptured steam line.

And the Jesus he knew from Sunday school didn't have a long, fleshy tail... unless it had been airbrushed out of all the paintings and illustrations he'd ever seen. The tail slashed away from Vernon... and then whipped back, catching him across the chest and propelling him several yards through the air.

Vernon landed with a broken shoulder and broken ribs, but his desire to be elsewhere remained perfectly intact. Whatever hit him had knocked him out of the charging metal beast's path and probably saved his life. As he scrambled to his feet, Vernon was tempted to turn for a quick glance, but the familiar sound of screaming metal convinced him otherwise.

Whatever was about to happen back there was between Jesus and The Devil, he wanted no part of it.

ason crouched in the metal creature's path, studying it as it came at him. It looked like nothing he'd ever seen, demonic or otherwise. Bits of metal ranging from the size of coins to the size of a car door scraped back and forth across each other in a living swarm of steel, their individual motions giving rise to something that almost resembled a human form in a full running charge. The sound was hideous. It was like listening to two speeding trains attempting to occupy the same section of track at the same time. The sound would have made a normal human wince and cover his ears, but Jason's enhanced senses caught a wider, deeper version of the onslaught. Every inch of the creature's movement assaulted Jason's ears with frequencies that he couldn't have even heard a few days ago.

Jason leaned back, shifting his weight onto his hind legs but resisting the urge to turn away. Instead, Jason's mind studied the creature through sharp, animal eyes... eyes that gleamed with a power that even the werebeast could not give him.

The metal thing was alive. It had an aura, dark and swirling... but something was wrong. The field of darkness around the creature's charging body was twisted and corrupt... full of folds, bbulges and sshriveledspots that weren't natural even for a demon. But Jason couldn't help but find something familiar in it. He couldn't tell yet WHAT was familiar about it... but there was something.

"Hey!" Jason's tongue and teeth carefully shaped the growl that rumbled deep in his throat. When the sound emerged, it sounded almost like words. "Before I kill you... you mind telling me what the hell you are?"

The creature slowed. A lump of oetal fragments that could have been a head turned and tilted slightly. A few of the smaller pieces shifted in what might have been a facial expression.

Jason had its attention-

-but he didn't keep it long.

The creature turned away from him and marched toward the parking lot, where the man Jason had thrown clear had just yielded to the temptation to look back.

"OVER HERE!" Jason growled. He sprang into the creature's path once again. He bared his claws and fangs, but the creature seemed unimpressed.

"Fine!" Jason hissed. He crouched and sprang-

One animated metal column... and arm... swung upward and around. It slammed into Jason with a bone-crunching explosion of pain. Shattered bones swam through Jason's flesh as shards of metal pierced his sscaledhide in a dozen places. Each of them was like a jagged sword ripping into him-

And each of them burned like hot acid.

The impact drove Jason's suddenly limp body to one side; the creature had swatted him out of the air like a buzzing insect. He landed in a heap behind the demon, which didn't even bother to look back at him as it continued toward the parking lot.

But there was no meal to be had there. A short distance away, a single car sped out of the small parking lot. The creature stopped and watched it go, almost as if considering a chase.

Then, slowly, it turned.

Jason's crushed bones and pierced flesh were already shifting back into place, but the puncture wounds... every place that the creature's metal had bit into his flesh... burned with a ferocious, angry pain. A familiar pain.

"Oh great," Jason moaned as the creature lumbered back toward him. "Of all the metals this thing could've been made out of... it had to be silver."

"ne at a time..." Ashley inhaled deep, taking the stale medicinal smell of the elevator into her lungs and holding it. She gathered her thoughts, focused them, and exhaled. "...just one at a time..."

The elevator doors opened, and Ashley stepped out.

The security ward was reserved for criminals, ccelebrities and anyone else who had 'special security concerns' during their stay at the hospital. In addition to the nurses... each of which had undergone a thorough background check... there were armed guards at every entrance, one at the nurse's station, two more patrolling the two intersecting hallways that formed the secure ward.

All of them were awake, alert, and looking for trouble. Trouble such as an unauthorized person stepping out of an elevator. Ashley was wearing a uniform that she had stolen from the nurse's locker room downstairs, and the blank piece of paper pinned to her chest could easily be made to resemble a 'pass' to anyone who inspected it... but that wasn't going to get her very far. Every person on this floor knew who belonged here and who didn't. 'Pass' or not, she was going to be stopped and questioned by every person who saw her.

Not a problem.

The guard at the elevator glanced at her as she walked past.

"Wait..." She said, holding up a finger.

The guard waited. Ashley kept walking. When she reached the intersecting corridor, she almost bumped into a nurse carrying a meal to one of the rooms. The startled nurse gasped, then frowned when she didn't recognize-

"Cockroaches," said Ashley.

The meal tray hit the floor. An instant later, the nurse's foot came down onto the spilled food, crushing the imaginary insects with several stomps... and then a kick that sent the tray careening down the hallway.

Quickly, Ashley turned into the connecting corridor and made her way down past the nurse's station. The head nurse and the guard looked straight at her. She touched their minds one at a time-

"The patient in room 14 just went into cardiac arrest," She said. She turned to the guard, catching his eyes. "The nurse down the hall is seeing imaginary insects. Perhaps you and the other guards should escort her somewhere safe."

Nurse and guard vanished. Ashley never stopped walking. She read the room numbers as she passed each door. The one she wanted would be toward the end of the hall.

There was a police officer... not a guard, but an actual police officer... sitting outside one of the rooms. He looked up from his magazine as Ashley approached. He saw she had a uniform and a pass, and went back to reading. But when she kept coming, he put the magazine down and started to stand.

"Sit back down," Ashley said.

The officer's butt hovered over the padded folding chair as he fought off the sudden urge to plop back down on it.

"Uhhh..." he said slowly. Then he shook his head and stood upright. "More medicine?" he said. He thought she was bringing more drugs to the man in the room... but he was already noticing that she wasn't carrying any drugs or food.. And that he had never seen her before on the floor. "Hey, who are you?"

"Someone who doesn't think police should be protecting rapists," said Ashley. "You don't think they should, either. Maybe you should go consider a change in career. Now."

The officer's eyes glazed over for a moment, but then he reached for his radio with one hand and grabbed Ashley's shoulder with the other.

"You're not supposed to be here!"

"I tried to be gentle," Ashley said, frowning. She dug deep into the officer's mind, past the level of his thoughts and into his hotor functions. "Now Sit Down."

The guard sat. He didn't want to sit... he was trying his best NOT to sit. But his body was no longer under his control. Working his legs and torso like a puppeteer, Ashley sat the guard down and leaned him back in his chair.

"Deaf. Mute. Paralyzed." As Ashley pronounced each of the three words, they became true. The police officer found himself locked rigidly into position and unable to call for help. He could see Ashley walk past him, but he couldn't hear her footsteps. He didn't hear the hospital room door open and then close behind her, either... or anything that happened in the room afterward.

copyright 2005 by Dark Icon Entertainment