It's all a Bunch of Tree Hugging Hippie Crap

[Trask]

This, Simmons thought, was why government health plans were so much better. He was currently listening to a pair of hospital security guards attempt to explain how it was that an obviously dead girl was able to walk unchallenged out of the psyche ward, indeed out of the entire hospital.

They were failing dismally.

"We thought they were two of yours," the first said, "said they were going out for a smoke and never came back."

Simmons sighed softly; civilian security was so very gullible. He suspected that if they had been guarding the White house, they wouldn't have looked twice at a blue skinned devil wielding a knife making his way to the oval office.

Sometimes you just couldn't get the staff.

"Ok, well I've spoken to the admissions nurse and she said that a young man called Theo Douglas was was admitted to the ward a few hours ago as a visitor."

She'd actually been able to give him a pretty good description too. It wasn't every day they got visitors for the living dead.

He gave the pair of guards a tight lipped smile, "thank you gentlemen, you have been a great help."

Walking away from the pair he pulled a phone from one of his cavernous, oddity-filled pockets and punched up the Baltimore PD department. If there was going to be any chance of finding the girl and the young man he was going to have to pull some strings.

"Good afternoon, my name is Dr. Simmons and I work for the department of homeland security."

"No really, I do ... yes ... ident one four seven double eight three."

"Yes."

"That's perfectly understandable, right now I have an urgent need for your computer system. A young man has left the hospital with a patient who may be unstable and we need to find him as soon as possible," he passed on the name and description the nurse had given.

"It could be worth worth putting a trace on the use of any credit cards in the name of Douglas used within the last three hours."

"Yes I know that is a big job."

"More important than find an unstable mental patient that is out on the streets?"

"I'm glad to hear it. Thank you."

Simmons hung up and sighed.

[deadgirl]

The girl stood near the window as she had for the last few hours... watching the moonlight and wondering what in the hell she wanted to do.

Theo had cried himself to a hazy thc-induced sleep, the backlash of his failed strength building a slow cold hatred in her heart. She had no feelings for this man and resented being made to feel as if she should suddenly develop them.

What did she care for her life. Or unlife, as it seemed.

Frowning up at the moon, she ground her teeth together, and turned suddenly and looked back at him. Walking over to the bed, she picked up his wallet from the nightstand, and opened it.

A picture of them together. Her skin was caramel, tanned in the sun. She could hear their laughter, remember the smell of food and smoke and amber oil on their bodies. She tucked it into her pocket, and looked at him again.

He was a sad figure. A little pathetic. She supposed if she loved him she'd have felt moved by his upset. But she needed strength right now, and calm. She needed someone who was going to show her the way- ANY way- forward. That seemed to mean letting go of what lay behind her.

Going back to the window, she slid the pane open. The bushes stood just beneath the sill, and she crawled up onto it, leaping over them. Landing in a jumble, she got up and pulled her sweatshirt hood over her head.

She really had no idea how to get back to the hospital, and couldn't get a cab looking like she did. A phone book... she needed a phone book to tell her the address.

Rolling her shoulders, she headed down the street in the direction the cab had come. With no need for sleep or sustenance, she could walk for a week around this city until she got back to the place from where she had run.

She just hoped Simmons would forgive her.

[Trask]

Two hours had passed and so far they had a list of every taxi firm that had sent a vehicle to the hospital over the assumed disappearance time, a massive list of credit card uses in the name of Douglas over the last few hours and more coffee than a Nescafe farm.

All five members of the science team were busily weeding through the vast array of information searching for something that might give a clue to the where-abouts of their missing dead girl.

They had eliminated all of the retail outlets; the young man would probably be looking for a place to stay, though given the elapsed time he could be anywhere within a thirty mile radius. That still left quite a few destinations to choose from.

Likewise, the taxi firms had more vehicles passing through the hospital every hour than Simmons had had hot dinners.

"Hey, Brent," Largo called the chief scientist by his first name, "check this one out, a Mr. T. Douglas paid by card to get into the Titty Twister nightclub downtown an ... four and a half hours ago."

Simmons peered at the man over the sheet of paper he was holding and raised an eyebrow, "the Titty Twister John? This boy is going to be looking for a place to hide out with his recently dead girlfriend, I hardly think he would be taking her to a strip joint."

John Largo shrugged, "I dunno, we arn't going to look there are we?"

Simmons conceded the point.

"Still, seems highly unlikely, though the next time you have some leave I'll let you go and check it out, how does that sound John?"

Largo smirked and went back to his own stack of papers.

Simmons wasn't such a bad boss sometimes.

[deadgirl]

She eventually found a phone book and realized she didn't know the name of the hospital, and there were several. Ripping the page out, she was beginning to panic a little.

Any normal, sane individual would freak out when they saw her face, her eyes. So she had to find someone who looked neither normal, nor sane.

It took her another twenty minutes of walking mostly uphill to find the dirty industrial club in the warehouse district that, unbeknownst to her, lay between the hotel and the hospital.

A line of dark figures were lined up by the door. This wasn't the polished all-ages gothic crowd that had to be in by eleven. This was a different subculture, where mosh pits and pit fights were not altogether different.

She watched them for a while before walking up to the building. A tall man with a shaved head, razor knicks drawing crusty lines from forehead to nape, stood like a smoking skeleton draped in black leather somewhere near the exit.

The girl kept her eyes down as she approached, and showed him the page from the phone book.

"Hey."

The guy turned and looked at her, making love to his cigarette and saying nothing.

"I need to find the hospital that's near here. I don't know the name of it."

"OD?" He said, spitting on the ground.

She thought about it for a second, wondering whether she should lie. It seemed odd even to her, but for some reason... she didn't want to.

Looking up at him, she lifted her chin and met his cool gray eyes with her own; bleary, blood red.

"Christ girl," was all he said. He didn't sound concerned, more fascinated than anything. "What the fuck happened to you?"

She smiled a bit. "I was dead. Then a guy made me alive again." She shrugged. It was good to say it out loud.

"No fucking way." Not only was he incredulous, he simply didn't believe her. Maybe she needed her lithium, he thought to himself. Better tell her where to go.

"It's St. Bartholomew's, chica. Straight up Marvin av from here, and Marvin's three blocks north."

"North." She said.

"Yeah. Right behind ye."

She nodded, and half wished she could stay here talking with him. But inevitably he'd get creeped out, and then she'd leave him just like she left Theo.

Simmon's clinical sort of kindness almost seemed warm at this point.

Nodding to the guy, she turned around and headed north to Marvin avenue.

[Trask]

Another hour of sifting through papers and another half dozen cups of coffee and they had narrowed the field considerably. Largo was down to fewer than a hundred Douglas credit cards and Simmons had eliminated all but twelve taxi firms from the search.

"A Mr. Douglas used his credit card to buy a twelve gauge shotgun in Lucas' sporting goods just over four hours ago," Largo chipped in.

"Why would he want a gun?" Simmons asked without looking up from his work.

"Maybe he thinks we will come after him with a SWAT team?"

Simmons frowned a turned a page.

"That dosn't make sense John, as far as the police are concerned we are searching for an escaped mental patient and her boyfriend. They're not going to mobilise a special weapons unit for that."

Largo was silent a moment.

"Yeah, but he dosn't know that."

Simmons considered.

"He would still be mad to hole up with his dead girlfriend armed with a shotgun on the off chance we might come after him with the SWAT."

Largo cocked an eyebrow.

"Yeah, but he IS mad enough to hole up with his dead girlfriend?"

Simmons conceded the point and they continued their search.

[deadgirl]

After a half hour of walking, the girl broke into a run. A few honks as a car nearly hit her, a gasp from a mother with her child who only thought at first she might collide with the running figure and then had to second guess herself when she saw the ghoulish girl speed past.

There were voices as she passed, both from the living and the dead. The dead paid her no mind here, lost in their own cycles of perdition and taking no notice of her. She said nothing to them, grateful to be left alone.

Running into the ER, she paused in the lobby. One woman nearly shrieked, covering her mouth just in time not to be rude. Some subtle sort of chaos erupted around her, but she hardly noticed it.

A doctor came through the double doors ahead of her. She saw the elevator within, and decided to find Simmons herself. Dodging a nurse who approached her with a sickened expression, she sped towards the door.

A security guard caught her by the arm before she could pass. She struggled against him, and he almost lost his grip on the newly powered girl before two other guards came to control her.

"But I need Mr. Simmons!! He's-" It dawned on her he never called himself a doctor. Locking her body, she fought their holds as one of the men barked at her.

"Calm down ma'am! Calm down!" they knew who she was, having been told to keep an eye out. It didn't mean her presence wasn't terrifying.

She tried, but something was beginning to change in her. The living- the warmth of their touch, the emotions in their voices, no trace of the miserable eternity that echoed amongst the dead- it was all disturbing. She began to feel unsettled, the tremor of fear and panic crawling beneath her skin.

Letting out a scream, security wrestled her back behind the double doors. "PLEASE! Is he still here?!"

[Trask]

Half an hour, two more cups of coffee, another dozen pages, all but two taxi firms left to check and half a sheet of credit transactions. Given the size of the team and the time available they had done a remarkable job of sifting through the data.

"Ok," Largo said suddenly, "get this, I got a Mr. T. Douglas using his card to book a room in a hotel five miles across town only half an hour after security said the girl left. That's one of only four hotel bookings in the given time period."

Simmons didn't look up.

"Possible," he said absently, "but why not one of the other three?"

Largo looked at his sheet again.

"Well one is only just within the city limits, is a five star Ritz and would cost more money than I get paid in a year just for a single night. Another is the sort of place that charges by the hour if you know what I mean and while I'm prepared to accept the boy might be a bit disturbed I don't think he's quite THAT disturbed."

"And the third?" Simmons queried, still not looking up.

"The third is literally across the street, you can see it out the window."

Simmons did glance up then and look at 'The Heartstop Motel' opposite.

"Huh," he grunted in vague amusement.

One of the remaining taxi firms had a car that had charged for a journey just under five miles. Paid in cash, particularly generous tip.

"Five miles away?" He repeated John's words.

"Yeah," they turned as one to look at each other.

"Got him!" Simmons said and stood so quickly he tipped over the chair.

At that moment a breathless security guard burst into the room.

"Perfect timing!" Simmons beamed brightly, "we've ... "

"We've found the dead girl!" The security guard blurted out.

Simmons frowned.

"How did you know that? We only just figured out where she was!"

The guard look momentarily baffled.

"How did YOU know she's downstairs? She only just got here!"

Simmons and Largo glanced at each other again and then turned as one and ran the way the guard had come.

They made it to the elevator in just under a minute, the surprisingly spritely Mr. Simmons out-pacing Largo the smoker by several feet. They both stood impatiently as the irritating music plinked and plonked through the speakers into the little metal box until finally, mercifully the doors slid open and released them from their torment.

The screaming lead them on.

On the other side of a pair of double doors the dead girl was being grappled by no less than three members of hospital security.

"For pities sake let her go!" Simmons ordered guards who reluctantly released their struggling prisoner.

[deadgirl]

She wanted for all the world to sock the guy in the face who she swore had copped a feel as he wrestled her to the ground.

Getting up, she looked murderously at them and straightened her clothes.

"I'm sorry," she almost whispered, keeping her eyes down at first. "Theo just... wanted us to leave. But I'm not going with him."

"I don't even know who he is."

Looking at Simmons, she walked closer. "Is it too late to go with you?"

[Trask]

Simmons gave her a faint smile, not really surprised that she had felt out of place with her former boyfriend. He wondered if she was capable of basic human feelings. She could obviously experience pain and fear and from the expression she had given the security, anger.

But how about positive emotions?

That was something for another time and another place.

"No, it isn't too late, the van is packed and we can leave tonight if you want. I was going to wait until the morning to let Mr. Largo rest," he glanced over his shoulder at his assistant, "but we can take it in turns to drive."

The sooner they could get out of Baltimore and back to the facility the happier he would be. There were simply too many ways into and out of the building, and the security left alot to be desired.

"Just let me wake the rest of the team up and we can be on our way, I promise these men won't touch you again," he looked meaningfully at the guards who shuffled more than a little sheepishly.

[deadgirl]

The dead girl's red eyes drifted up, precisely as one who was listening for a far off sound.

Are you there... she asked the man she'd heard from before, half afraid he would answer.

Stepping away from the others with Simmons, she whispered. "Some things have come up." She looked at him. "I can control dead things I think. I made a bird that couldn't possibly still be living move and make noises."

Tension crossed her face as she paused, then spoke again. "And someone has the same control over me." The feeling of bewilderment and encroaching fear was painted on her face. "I heard him in my mind, felt him there... like he WAS my mind."

It didn't occur to her that might sound completely insane.

[Trask]

Simmons nodded calmly, fascinated by what he was hearing. Not only was she herself the living dead by all accounts, she could even call back the dead herself and give them a semblance of life. Like the mutant that had been with the Brotherhood during the attack.

A few things clicked into place.

A voice in her mind, like it had control of her mind.

Eye-witness reports said that the man who had controlled the dead had been killed during the battle by a massive electrical discharge. This girl was supposed to have died too. Simmons had an uncomfortable feeling that the controlling mutant might not be as dead as they had hoped.

It was time to go.

"All the more reason for you to come with us," Simmons said calmly, "the sooner we get back to the facility, the sooner we can help you start to understand what has happened to you and perhaps quiet the voices a little."

He glanced at Largo again.

"Go and wake up the team and get them into the van, it's time we were leaving."

[deadman]

Turns out the trip out of the Hospital didn't go as planned. In the parking facility, the science crew was loading the van up with the gear, preparing for the departure. There was a nervous energy in the air, a sense of rush, and for no lack of reason.

Largo was getting into the drivers side when he stopped, catching something out of his peripheral... he turned his head casually and looked directly into the glossy red eyes of the Dead Man.

“Hello.” Dead Man whispered, and grabbed him by the throat. With a slight heave, he tossed him one handedly over the car next to the van. Largo got nothing but air until he crashed unceremoniously into the BMW two cars over, crashing the hood in, setting off the car alarm, and knocking himself out.

The security guards shouted at the noise, and moved to head around the other side, but only one made it. Mikey unfortunately ran into Bob Wills, Dead Man's cursed companion. The animate grabbed he officer's wrist hard enough to create an audible snap, just as the guard went for his gun. Mikey didn't have much time to register the pain, however, as Bob grabbed him, biting into his throat like a vampire. Blood splashed out like milk from a spilled jug, and the guard died in a gurgling scream.

*POP! POP!*

Gerald was backing up, shooting his pistol stupidly into the chest of an uncaring Dead Man, and screaming like a girl of eight. He died with a dumb look of terror on his face, his killer plunging four fingers into his throat with a meaty rip. He stopped screaming.

[Trask]

Simmons entered the parking garage with the dead girl just in time to see John Largo sail unceremoniously through the air and crash head-long into an expensive looking car. It probably belonged to a consultant, his analytical mind absently noted.

Then there was screaming, and blood.

The unhelpful security guards that had so easily allowed the girl and her former boyfriend to slip away were suffering some sort of extreme karmic vengeance as a mangled corpse literally ripped them apart.

Things happened in a weird sort of slow motion after that, in the way deadly situations tended to play out in the few movies Simmons had seen recently.

Daniels was yelling and tumbling out of the passenger side in an attempt to escape the red-eyed man leering at him through the drivers door.

The remaining pair of scientists had rushed from the rear of the vehicle where they had been loading the last of the equipment, one running to assist the junior, the other caught between courage and horror as the guards died.

Some distant part of his mind said that he really should be getting out of here, but the scientist in him watched the scene with detached fascination.

Enhanced strength, total control of the dead flesh. Quite incredible.

[deadgirl]

She knew him the moment they entered the doorway. Watching him take down the crew- some of which she remembered as the few individuals she'd spoken to in her scant few memories- she stepped forward, throwing out her hands as if to stop him.

"NOO!!" she screamed, looking at the Dead Man imploringly.

His head snapped up, red eyes boring through her. He nearly growled through his teeth. "YOU!"

The address was more than audible, as he entered her mind like a bullet. It careened her backwards, snapping her head to the side and tipping her off balance. She fell flat on her back, gasping as if the breath she didn't need had been knocked out of her.

[deadman]

Dead Man didn't seem to produce much saliva in his dead form, but you wouldn't guess that looking at the small string of it hanging from his gritting teeth.

It was her.

He bent down, ripping the hub-cap off the car next to him, and flung it hard. It sailed unerringly, hurled with a supernatural strength, and dinged directly into the forehead of the lab-coat standing next to the girl...

He went down easily, but Dead Man could sense he wasn't dead. For once this didn't matter to him – she was all that mattered. He strode forward in his awkward jerky gait.

Behind him, the other scientists were being dismantled as Mikey and Gerald had joined the Dead Man's team, animated by a portion of his will... it had become so second nature that he didn't even notice he'd done so.

“you...” He whispered again, looking down at the stunned girl before him, his snarl still stretched across his dead face... only, it was no snarl of rage. No, it was a snarl of... well, he couldn't recognize the emotion. Ownership? No, nothing so cold... familiarity? Not so warm. Perhaps it was simply the raw emotion of creator to created – perhaps some tingling of paternal – possibly maternal – instinct.

Regardless, as he saw that her perfect red eyes matched his own, he was immediately moved. So moved was he, that he swept down until his cold, pallid face met hers, and his greenish lips took to her own. The kiss was brief, but intense, and he withdrew with an almost confused look on his face.

[deadgirl]

The dead girl rose with his hand, her eyes having closed as his lips touched hers.

Standing in front of him, for a long quiet moment they only peered into one another's eyes. She hardly had a thought of her own, so strong was his hold on her.

"It's me," she whispered, a poison cocktail of mortal fear, eagerness to please, fascination and hate mingling on her features.

Tell me who you are...

Her eyes searched his, craving answers.

[deadman]

“I'm the Dead Man.” he whispered in his croak of a voice, taking a moment to look her up and down. She was perfection: Undead, clearly, yet somehow paused in decay. She could think on her own, even return thoughts to him on a different wavelength as the others. Her eyes were almost exactly like his own.

I have always been the Dead Man, regardless of what I have been called. I gave you this. He added, putting a hand up to her face, touching it gently with the back of his fingers.

His animates were walking slowly around the van, and deep in the back of his mind he noted that only four there were – Bob Wills, the two guards, and some science lackey. This meant that he'd been too shocked to animate the others, which was incredibly out of his normal character. A quick scan revealed that no others were dead, only injured – which was definitely out of character for him... he must not have ordered the animates to finish the job completely.

He'd tuned out the whirring of the car alarm, and now heard it clearly, as well as the approaching sirens. The police where on their way.

[deadgirl]

She nearly swooned, her lips opening, eyes half closing as she looked at her creator. She wanted only to do his will, only to follow along.

"I am yours." the girl whispered, and reached up her hands to grasp his forearms as they were lifted to touch her face.

Words failed her, a faint squeak leaving her. She closed her eyes and gave herself over, shoving her mind into his. For a moment her body buckled subtly, and her weight leaned into him.

[deadman]

For another moment he prodded through her head, stretching his consciousness in a slow, nearly erotic fashion into her thoughts and feelings. It was a gentle caress, the touch the polar opposite of the brutal coldness that he jerked the psyche's of his normal animates with.

Here was one who seemed to have found evolution. A form of perfection, perhaps, on his initial design... he could even feel it in her mind. Though there was something else... she seemed to be of two minds.

The first was a beautiful imprint, the psychic force graced only to the dead – a potent flash left in the gray matter of one who's experienced true death. The second was... well, he couldn't tell. It was like a blinding light somewhere around her presence, a sickening ambient life that nearly made him vomit as soon as he strayed near it with his will.

It was as if she were both alive and dead, of human mind and undead. Her living spirit seemed away from her... as if in orbit of a much more beautiful thing. Dead Man resented it, cursed it's presence, but immediately went back to fawning over his greatest achievement.

He gently had her push her chin up, lifting it with his thoughts. She was amiable, seemed entranced by him... this was good. He could only imagine how lost she must have been without her maker here to guide her, to give her decisions reason.

“We are going back to the Brotherhood. There is much work for us, my Dead Girl.” He said with a grim smile. The thought of having a lieutenant with the sort of free will and power she seemed to possess sent a shiver of joy up his spine. The world was looking up for Dead Man.

[deadgirl]

The dead girl lifted her chin, her eyes opening to look up into his. She felt like a puppet on strings, weightless. A tremendous feeling of release filled her.

As she felt his mind explore hers like fingers over her body, something began to tighten. From deep within her, so deep she could scarcely hear it, she heard a scream. That same scream from before. The part of her that was still alive.

The Brotherhood. Who was that? It sounded exciting. And if he worked with this Brotherhood, perhaps they were family. People like her. She wanted it so badly...

...and that piece of herself continued to scream...