Die and let live (IC)

[Dr Archeville]

... he tazed me? He actually had enough courage ta stand hold 'is ground an' shoot me?

Damn, I am impressed.

Dead Head recapitated himself and bolted the other way, ducking around a corner and down a hall, diving for the nearest HVAC vent. "I really gotta work on my exits."

Moments later, after crawling through the air ducts (and causing more than a few patients to complain about the sounds & smells coming from the ducts), Dead Head was back at the morgue. "Hey, Jake," he called out, "y'know where Doc Gorsky's office is? I gotta ask 'im a few questions."

Hope Mutt's okay. I gotta see if I can get Nick or Phantom to rig up some sorta 'communications spell' fer the two of us.

[Supercape]

GM

Jake was actually wringing his hands.

"Dead Head? Where have you been? Damn, some security guard has been yacking off all sorts - said he saw his dead partner, then some story about a zombie. No guesses who that might be..." he said with an arched eyebrow straight at his unliving friend.

"Lord knows what's up know. THe hospital can't decide whether to sedate him and call a shrink, or put out a security alert and search the hospital. Last I heard, they are going to do both...so watch your step!"

He sat down, wiping his brow with his hanky.

"Anyway, Gorsky...yeah, I know him. Pathologist. Clever guy, fairly new. Bit standoffish, doesn't make many friends, but never made any serious enemies either. His office is on the floor 9, out patients department. I guess you can use the air ducts..."

[Dr Archeville]

"Ninth floor, eh?," he said, looking around the examining room. "Even th' old elevators here'd get up there faster'n I can climb. Saaay...," he drawled as he glanced over at a familiar cadaver drawer.

[bg=#000000]... seriously?[/bg]

"Why not?," he said to the drawer. "I mean, if'n ya don't mind."

[bg=#000000]Fiiine. But this is now two you owe me.[/bg]

"Okay, okay, I know," he replied as he began to shift again, this time taking on the appearance of the young blonde woman who'd died of a Zoom overdose. As with the guard whose appearance he took earlier, his clothing shifted, heels, skirt and blouse she wore to the nightclub, that hugged tight in all the right places; the only signs anything was 'off' was the slightly pallid complexion and the track marks in her arms from the Zoom, which he covered with some gauze from the nearby first aid kit. "Man, this feels weird! How d'y'all walk in these things?"

Dead Head heard only ghostly laughter.

Moments later, 'Kelly' stepped off the elevator at the 9th floor and headed (a bit unsteadily) towards Dr. Gorsky's office. Once there, she knocked on the door.

[Supercape]

GM

When Dead Head, or perhaps it might be better to say, "Kelly", rapped on the Door of Gorsky's office, some muffled talking could be heard.

It was the right door. The neat little plaque on the door engraved with "Doctor Gorsky" and a string of impressive credentials paid testament to that.

"I'm busy...go away!" came a rather irritable, possibly rude voice from the other side.

[Dr Archeville]

Hrm, somethin's' got in the doc's craw. Bad day at th' office, or somethin' more? Need t'see if he's got anythin' t'do with Cartwright gettin' up an' about, and if so, what 'is game is. An' if not, if he knows any leads. Hrn, I could bust this door in, no problem, but that'd call a bit much attention t'me, an' I doubt the young lady, or her fmaily, would appreciate it. I- oh! The door ain't locked! Well, that solves that problem!

"Oh, but Doctor Gorsky," 'she' said as the door opened; the voice was Kelly's but the inflection and tone was decidedly more Southern Belle than that of the late party girl, "if I could just see you for just a moment..."

[Supercape]

GM

"Get out! Get out! Can't you see I am busy?"

Mr and Mrs. Richards sat in consultation with Dr. Gorsky. He was a thin man, in his fifties probably, with thinning hair and a gaunt face. He wore silver rimmed spectacles and a moustache. He gave of the impression of nervous energy and nervous intelligence.

He was dressed in a slightly ill fitting, but expensive suit, probably designed to make him look slightly more bigger bones than he was - and almost, but not quite, pulling it off. A stethoscope groped his neck. He spoke in a slight east European accent. His manner was clearly irritable at best.

The poor couple he was talking to too looked exhausted, haggard, and red-eyed. And, it must be said, not best pleased with the intrusion.

"I am in middle of important consultation! get out! who are you? never mind! get out! what is so important! never mind! get out!"

[Dr Archeville]

Ah, looks like Doc Gorsky here's been dabblin' in things what oughtn't be dabbled in. So now I'm wonderin' if these folks is patients, or he's sizin' 'em up for some non-traditional necropathic treatments.

"Oh, but Doctor Gorsky," 'Kelly' continued, "I am sorry to interrupt, but it's urgent. Y'see, there's someone lookin' for you, sir, a man. A doctor. Rather handsome, if I may say," 'she' giggled. "Said he had a very important message to give you. He- oh, silly me!," 'she' slapped 'her' forehead, "here I am jawin' away and not tellin' you who it is! His name is... is... well, now, how about that?" 'She' put her hands on her hips, "he never told me what his name was! Oh, well, you'd know him if ya saw him. He has a very distinctive look..."

'Kelly' turned and closed Gorsky's door, but when she turned back her shapely form was shifting and sagging, into the grey-skinned, brown suited form of Dr. Cartwright, the man the Richards' knew as Mr. Brown. He raised his right hand and pointed accusingly at the Russian doctor.

"... and he wants to know what you did to him!"

[Supercape]

GM

"By Lenin's Beard!" exclaimed Gorsky, jumping out of his chair in shock, completely ignoring the Richards'.

"What are you doing here? I ordered you to stay away. What are you doing questioning? It wasn't meant to work like this!" he floundered, pointing his bony finger at Dead Head.

"I brought you back... I created you...you have no right to question me! Stay away Stay away!"

His anger was started to turn to fear and alarm, and he reached into his desk, his clawing hand bringing up a huge revolver of seeming ancient design and pointing it at Dead Head with shaking hands. The Richards gasped in alarm, the whole consultation clearly dissolviong into terror in a few moments!

[Dr Archeville]

Yup, Doc Gorsky has been dabblin' in things what oughtn't be dabblin' in. Still don't know these folks story, though.

"Yes, Gorsky, yooouuu brought me baaack," 'Cartwright' accused, drawing out the syllables to make him sound more pained, "but not aaallllll the waaay! And when yoouuou were dooone with me, yooouuu tossed me aside... but yooouuu didn't do thaaat all the waaay, either!"

He turned to the Richards' and held up his hands in a begging gesture, "III feeeeeelll my body... rottttttiiiingggg... whyyy? Whyyy wooouuuld heee dooo thiiiissss tooo meee? III'mmm a doctooorrrr..."

[Supercape]

GM

The RIchards' were justifiably horrified as they witnessed Dead Head's theatrics. Mrs. Richards shrieked, and with a sigh, passed out cold into her husbands arms, which held her like a lump of stone- for he was one whisker away from following her.

He gave Dr Gorsky a look pregnant with fear, loathing, and desperation.

"What have you done? You want our daughter to turn into...into...into this?" he gasped, his voice stiff with rage.

Dr Gorsky waved his tremulous hand and kept his gun pointed right at Dead Head.

"No...no...not like this!" he wailed. "It wasn't meant to be like this...it said that...it would all be perfect...it showed me...things...you would not believe....but not like this!!!"

[Dr Archeville]

Daughter? Ah, the old 'Promise to Cure the Sick Child When Really She's Turned Into An Undead Servitor' trick! One of the oldest cons in the books! But who showed Gorsky them things?

"Nooot a cuuure," 'Cartwright' said, still pleading with the male half of the Richards'. "Nooot a cuuure... paaaiiin... neverending! Pain is all I feel... paaaiiin and nothing else! To never again walk," he luched to one side, "on a summer's day... with a hot wind in your face..." he flexed his hands, as if feebly grasping for the Richards', "and a warm hand to hold... to feel nooothing..."

He froze, and slowly ratcheted his head towards Gorsky, "nooothing... but huuungerrr...." His lips pulled back while his body ratcheted around, so now he was fully facing Gorsky. He crouched slightly, "huuungerrr... for vengeance!"

He leaped over the desk at the doctor.

[Supercape]

GM

At this point, Mr. Richards joined his wife in a shocked faint, banging his head against the doctors table with a blow that was sure to compound his unconsciousness.

Gorsky Panicked, and squeezed the trigger on his huge revolver, twice.

"Get away! Get away!" he screamed "This is all wrong! WRONG!".

As Dead Head's Iron Grip seized the struggling Gorsky, whose small frame could no more resist than it could bend steel, two enormous and unusual bullets screamed out of the revolver's barrow with an enormous crack (one sure to raise the alarm...)

In a heroic gesture, Dead Head leapt into the bullets, which splintered and exploded...

with water?

Whilst normal Bullets would have had next to no effect on the undead hero, these were no ordinary bullets. They had been filled with holy water of a most potent and specialised kind. Gorsky had obviously taken precautions in his dabblin'.

[Dr Archeville]

Sounded like the fella's head conked hard on the bookshelf. Good news, the screamin' should bring someone along soon t'check on 'em. Bad news, they'll find Cartwright here, or me. Best make this quick.

'Cartwright,' still maintaining his grip on Gorsky, shifted and morphed back into Dead Head, and squeezed the doctor, not enough to do any lasting harm but enough to insure his attention was focused. "Listen, Comrade, this is your one and only warning. Stop meddlin' with the dead. Use yer knowledge an' skill t'treat the livin', do what good ya can. But don't go makin' promises ya cain't keep, an' don't go 'round tryin' t'extend lives unnaturally. You ain't smart enough or wise enough t'decide who gets t'live forever, so do what ya can t'make the livin' comfortable. I do what I can t'make the dead comfortable." He pulled the doctor closer, putting his lips almost on the man's ear, "an' if I hear yer still messin' with the dead after this -- an', trust me, I will hear of it -- I'm gonna sic ev'ry ghost, haunt an' spook you had a hand in makin' after you 'till the end o' yer days!"

Time t'make my exit. Just reach out like I did earlier...

[Dr Archeville]

The revenant threw the man down, pointing and staring at him with an accusing glare, then vanished in a flash of violet light.

He reappeared in the morgue, in one of the cadaver drawers, though this one had recently been emptied as its previous tenant had been wheeled out minutes prior. He laid still on the cold metal, listening for Agopowicz or any of the other technicians, or any guards investigating the recent weirdness.

Alright, let's review: Gorsky & Cartwright was rivals. Cartwright dies in some drive-by shootin', Gorsky takes advantage of the accident t'raise him up and be his errand-zombie. Calls in them folks, sayin' he can cure their daughter. How'd Gorsky hear about 'em? Maybe they was Cartwright's patients? So, gotta bring Cartwright back here -- shouldn't leave him on Lantern Hill -- an' then find out where Gorsky learned necromagic, who had promised him "it would all be perfect" an' "showed him things." Wait, not who, what -- he said "it" told him, "it" showed him. I probably shoulda stayed an' asked while I had him.... Maybe Mutt found somethin' in his trackin'; need t'get in touch with him. Which... will be tricky, as I got not idea where he is. Eh, I can ask 'round, see if some spirit'd be willin' t'find 'im fer me.

[Supercape]

GM

There was a polite knock on the "door" to Dead Heads (temporary) resting place. The face of Dr. Agopsowicz appeared as Dead Head was slid out.

"There you are! Popping in and out all over the place. I swear, you can be a right pain in the ass sometimes!" laughed the friendly doctor as he peered into the capsule Dead Head had appeared in.

"Now I gotta go sterilise the whole thing. You do realise you are a walking disease vector, don't you? I shudder to think what we could grow if we took a sample from you. Bubonic plague, most likely..." he chuckled, although the last thought seem to strike him slightly cold.

"Anyways, do you mind telling a poor simple doctor what the blazes is going on? Gunshots up on the top floor, collapsed relatives. The police are on their way and rumour mill going into overdrive about the dead walking. They would all be down here poking around if they had any guts..."

He scratched his head.

"Something might strange going on here. I had the strangest dream about this place...." he mumbled.

[Dr Archeville]

"Ain't so sure 'bout that, Jake," he said as he clambered out. "When I saw that German fella last year, 'e said I weren't no more contagious than any other person. That whatever it was what slowed my decomposition slowed the growth of them little bugs," he said, shrugging.

"As fer what's goin' on here," he pointed up to the ceiling, "seems Doc Gorsky's been meddlin' with things he ain't s'posed t'meddle with. Specifically, dead things, an' undead things. Looked like he'd raised Cartwirght," he gestured to the drawer Agopsowicz assumed the late cardiologist had lain in, "as a serviteur, an errand-zombie, t'fetch folks with hopeless cases medical science couldn't cure. Gorsky was talkin' with a couple 'bout their sick daughter, I think he was gonna turn her into... into somethin'. I spooked 'em all, though I think the fella might have gotten a slight concussion on his way down."

"What I's worried 'bout now, though," he said, stretching and popping and unpopping joints in ways no living person could do (at least, not without copious amounts of morphine), "is figurin' out where Gorsky learned his mojo, confiscatin' any books an' ritual tools 'e's got. An' puttin' Cartwright to a proper rest."

[Supercape]

GM

" An' puttin' Cartwright to a proper rest."

"Amen to that..." replied Agopsowicz, as he started spraying down the bunker and wiping it clean. Catching Dead Head's eye, he shrugged. "Pardon me, but with you looking like that, I'm taking no chances. Looks like you could have the bubonic plauge lingering on you. Hmmm, you may even have been around that time for all I know, musta been hellova busy time if you where..." he chuckled with the gallows humour of a doctor who dealt with death on a daily basis.

"Besides which, strictly speaking you shouldn't be down here, you know. But hey, I like your company!"

He straightened up after his disinfectant regime was complete. "And I'm all for giving Cartwright a proper send of. You know I ain't scared of corpses, but I got respect for them too. It ain't right what's being done to him. Ain't right to his memory at all. I may not be at Church every Sunday, and neither did he, but the man should be buried straight and true..."

"So what are you planning to do with Gorsky? what with the police crawling around the hospital looking to shoot any zombie they see? and how you going to work out what happened?"

[Dr Archeville]

Dead Head laughed, holding his sides, the sound echoing around the small room as if it were a far bigger tomb. "I ain't that old, Doc. I know I look like some kinda un-wrapped mummy, but I was still drawin' breath when Clinton was in office an' people started gettin' scared 'bout Y2K!"

He neglected to mention that fears and dread of Y2K (and other "Millennial Madness") was what drew Baron Samedi and Malador the Mystic into attempting to summon Something Very Nasty, the interruption of which lead to his current condition. Best not to have two doctors nosing around necromantic workings.

He helped Agopsowicz clean by taking dirtied towels and tossing them into the trash, "I'll bring Cartwright back here, easy enough; since you didn't know 'e was gone, I'm guessin' no one's asked 'bout him since Gorsky stole 'im. As fer the rest: guns aint' a bother t'me -- though Gorsky had some kinda anti-undead bullets in his, potent ones, which implies 'e's more'n jes' a dabbler -- so I'll jes' leave here after I bring Cartwright back. Where I'll be goin', though, is where I'll need yer help: you know Gorsky's home address? Or what kinda car 'e drives?"

[Supercape]

GM

Where I'll be goin', though, is where I'll need yer help: you know Gorsky's home address? Or what kinda car 'e drives?"

Agopsowicz scratched his head and though for a moment. "Eh, his address? I have no idea. I'm not exactly best buddies with the man. Come to think of it I don't think he has a best buddy. And perhaps not many buddies of the regular sort. "

He took to scratching his chin instead. The man actually looked a little tired, and had the beginnings of stubble on his chin.

"As for his car, I think it was some flashy thing. Rolls Royce, I think. Yeah, he got a few comments on that one. Personalised number plate too G0R5KY, if I recall. That got even more comments...."

He gave a quick half-chuckle.

"What an $@*%$!" he concluded, giving a fairly accurate assessment of the man's personality.

"But if you really want to know where he lives, I guess the medical human resources department could have some records, maybe paper, maybe on their computer. If you can add sneakin' around to your list of talents. Though from the way the police are scouring the building, maybe that ain't your strongest suit...."

[Dr Archeville]

The revenant shook his head, "ah, I keep forgettin' things don't work 'ere like they do back home. I'm used to workin' in small towns, not a big metropolis like Freedom," he said, spreading his arms wide, then drawing them back in and leaning on a nearby table on his elbows. "Y'know, places where all a fella's co-workers is on first-name terms with each other's wives an' kids an' dogs, an' they all go t'each others homes fer cookouts an' such." He let out a small chuckle, "heh, I been in Freedom over a year an' a half, an' there's a lot I still ain't used to."

He stood straight, arching back, popping several vertebrae out and back in to place as he went, "hoo, speakin' of dogs, I need to find Mutt, see if'n he found anythin'. Should really check with Phantom 'bout that communication spell. Ah," he shook his head to clear the tangent, looked back to Agopsowicz, "don't think I'll go checkin' personnel, but the car's a good lead. I can follow it to 'is home, or wherever he goes. Best go locate his car now, in case he's leavin' now. But first..."

[Dr Archeville]

Agopsowicz saw Dead Head close his eyes and stand statue-still for a moment, then wink out of existence in a flash of black light. Before he could move to inspect the spot, he reappeared, holding a familiar brown-suited body like a sleeping babe. "Here's Cartwright, safe an' sound, right where I'd left him on Lantern Hill. No sign o' Mutt, though; 'e must still be on the hunt. 'Least, I hope he is...." A look of true concern crossed his face, but he quickly snapped to, "ah, the doc here was s'posed t'be in...," he nodded towards the drawer the Medical examiner had checked earlier, "in there, right?"

One Cartwright was safely 'tucked in,' the undead hear headed for the door. "Rolls Royce, personalized license plate? Shouldn't be too hard t'find. I'll keep in touch, Jake!" He waved as he looked out both sides of the door to check it was clear before leaving. He made his way outside, out through the loading dock, and crept around to where many of the doctors parked, searching for Gorsky's flashy car.

[Supercape]

GM

It did not take long to pick out such an ostentatious car. It also helped it was parked in the "reserved for consultants" section (evidently much to the chagrin of many other hospital staff).

The Police were out now, having heard of a shooting and some frankly unbelievable rants about ghosts and zombies. The hospitals psychiatric services were in close liason.

Dead Head could spy Gorsky rushing to his car, his suitcase in hand and his hair somewhat ragged with sweat. He looked in a hurry. And anxious. He dropped his car keys with a fumbled rush to get open the door, and cursed in an East European dialect Dead Head could not understand - although one could hazard a good guess it was an expletive.

Gorsky scooped up his keys from the road and leapt into the car, ready to take off...

[Dr Archeville]

Even as far north as Freedom City was, the summers still got quite hot, so on this late June day Gorsky had left the windows on his precious car slightly cracked. Just cracked enough for something small to fly in. But Dead Head did not, in this case, have the luxury of time.

I think those guards spotted me; gotta make this quick. Jes' pop out one of my eyeballs like so... leave a bit of the optic nerve attached, so it can slowly slither 'round like a slug if'n it needs t'move.... pull a few tendons from mah neck an' rope 'em 'round my index finger an' thumb t'make an impromptu slingshot... load it in, pull back... gotta time it so's Gorsky don't see it... annnnd.... fire!

The squishy sphere soared through the air. It almost looked like it would miss, but that was due to Dead Head's lessened depth perception; it squeezed in just as he'd hoped. Now he had to ditch the cops -- he didn't have time for questions!

[Supercape]

GM

Dead Head's eye could not hear, but it could sure see. With a little wiggling, it managed to reach a prime position on the passenger seat, able to see both Gorsky and the road.

And it did not need a lip reader to see that Gorsky was swearing like a trooper. He reached over every now and again to mop his sodden brow, and to check on the enormous antique iron revolver laying on the passenger seat.

In the dying sun, Gorsky did not seem to have a clear plan other than "run". He drove a good way out of the city, stopping off in some cheap hotel to book a room for the night, collapsing into the bed but not sleeping, despite the mini-bar he generously helped himself too. It seemed even vodka would not soothe his nerves.

[Dr Archeville]

As soon as his 'bug' was in, Dead Head hightailed it off the hospital grounds, running faster than any of the security guards could hope to move. After all, they had to worry about muscles tearing or misstepping and spraining something, whereas an undead sprinter did not. And misstep he did, owing to the decreased depth perception due to having only one eye in his head.

Man, years of doin' this, an' it still gets disorientin'.

He followed as best he could, trying to identify what pieces of landmarks his remote eye could spy. He breathed a sigh of relief (one of the few times he took in a breath) when the car stopped and Gorsky got out at the cheap motel, but now he had to try to find it.

Is he just runnin' scared? Is he leavin' Freedom fer good? Or is he jes' panicked? I'll trail him for a bit, see if he doubles back to his house, or if he calls anyone t'come meet him here.