Aberrant: Dead Rising - Chapter 11b: Home Tidings

[Dawn OOC]

"No Bob," Cherry said cheerfully, grinning at Gabrielle, "but healing and trade is always welcomed. We have a kid that broke his arm in a zombie attack two days ago. Dunno if you can heal breaks, but anything you can do to make it better would be repaid."

"There is no need to pay me for that," Gabrielle said simply. Her healing was God's gift to her; it would be wrong to accept payment for it.

"Oh, cool," Cherry said, giving her another toothy grin. "The doctor that comes around is 'scpency."

"Doctor?" Jabobs asked just as Caleb queried, "What doctor?"

Cherry giggled at the looks each gave the other and explained, "He's a traveling doctor, comes through about once a month to take care of injuries. But he wants a lot of food and stuff for treatment. So free healthcare sounds fantastic."

[z016]

Gabrielle nodded to Cherry and quietly instructed Jacobs and Caleb, "Find out what you can, Mr. Harker might have changed his name; if nothing else we might be able to pick up his trail."

"Cherry, please lead on." The effervescent young woman led the winged teen to what passed for a clinic in the small community: a small conference suite of rooms in the basement. Several beds, no doubt from the former dormitory across the street, lined the room with a half-dozen patients playing cards or reading under the fluorescent lights.

Gabrielle immediately made her way to the side of a boy about eight years old, his arm inexpertly splinted and placed in a sling. Her entrance caused a bit of stir, the snow white wings and inhuman beauty getting wide-eyed stares as she knelt before the boy.

"Hello," she smiled at him. "My name's Gabrielle, what's yours?"

"R-robby," he squeaked out.

"Robby, I'm here to help you." Gabrielle smiled at him and the boy felt like he'd just been bathed in sunlight; she gently pulled his arm out of the sling and then out of the splint. "Now, this is going to feel a little strange, but your arm will be all better once I'm done."

The feeling of sunshine intensified, focusing on his arm as the bone moved itself around to reset properly and then grow over the break. The blue-black bruises that had surrounded the break turning purple, then yellow, and finally settling back into healthy copper colored tone that matched the rest of him.

Outside of their small bubble, people's stares went from awe to shock and back to awe. Cherry managed to stammer out, "H-how'd'ya do that?!"

Gabrielle gave the boy and the room a beatific smile, "God granted me the gift to heal when I was reborn; it is a gift meant to be shared."

Before Cherry could respond to that an older woman pulled herself up off a cot set away from the others; coughing as she managed to stumble up to her feet. "Well, if God's handing out mercy now, He's a bit late, ain't he? Still, I ain't one to turn down life. 'Got the flu, and a case o' bein' old. You gotta cure for those?"

The angel's smile never faltered as she reached out to the woman and purged the illness from her body. "Have faith, the light shines brightest in the darkest night."

The woman hrrumphed, but cleared her throat and nodded her thanks. Gabrielle made her round of the room, healing each injury or illness with a smile and a touch.

[Dawn OOC]

She was just about to leave the room when she heard shouts in the hallway. Cherry gasped, "Not again!" as two men came in carrying a third slung between them. The third one was struggling for breath and choking up a blackish goo.

"We have... whoa," the first man said, stopping short at the sight of Gabrielle.

"What's wrong?" the angelic super asked, stepping forward and putting a hand on the man. Immediately, she felt how broken he was inside, as if someone had changed him into something that her gift almost couldn't recognize as human anymore. "What has happened to him?"

"The changeling took him over for a while," the second man said.

Cherry looked near tears as she said, "Someone around here can take people over for a time, but they start to rot. First their blood then their organs and then them!"

The man grasped Gabrielle's arm. "Please... no priest here... bless me... before I die."

[z016]

"Shh....there's no need for that yet." Gabrielle's will reached out to soothe the man even as she summoned forth that golden heat that she knew to be her gift. Healing this man would be draining, as draining as the burn victims from the attack on her people, but she knew she could do this. That was God's plan for her, wasn't it?

Heat radiated off of the angel, enough to make a glow about her that poured into the damaged man. Organs and bones slowly pushed back the rot that had taken over them, remembering how to be healthy and work together once again; the rot pushed back, angry and pulsing, attempting to reclaim it's victim. Gabrielle frowned. What was this? Her lips set in a grim line and the heat became a rolling sheen of light and energy. It took almost an hour, but when she pulled back from the man he was as healthy as he had ever been in life, the darkness and rot entirely purged from his being.

Gabrielle swallowed and rubbed the sweat from her face; she was exhausted but that didn't mean it was time to rest. "Now, what exactly happened to you?" she asked the man. "Someone said something about a...a changeling?"

[Dawn OOC]

"He or she takes control of you," the healed man said, slowly sitting up. His face was full of wonder as he took Gabrielle's hand. "Thank you. I'm in service to you."

"There's no need for that," the angelic super assured him, smiling. "Your health is all I need from you."

"I need to do it," the man replied. "I'm Gil Rochester, and I'm at your service."

Cherry was staring in utter awe. "That's... I've never seen anyone survive that."

"A lot more people will survive if you guys stop marveling about the miracle and tell us everything about the ‘changeling’ so we can stop him,” Jacobs said forcibly. His voice warned that he expected obedience.

Gil nodded. “No one has seen the changeling, but we know that it can take someone over for a time and make you do things,” he explained. “Steal food and stash it somewhere, let zombies into the compound-”

“Sleep with your wife,” one man muttered darkly.

Gil shot him a look. “Things like that. As near as we can tell, he or she just wants to be a greedy jerk.”

[Dawn OOC]

George, sometimes better known as ‘Rushing Mountain’ or just ‘Rockman’, was perched on the top of the school bus. Someone had welded a folding chair to the top; it folded down when not in use so that it wouldn’t cause too much wind resistance. Normally, no one rode up here when the bus was in motion, but it was the most solitary place to be in the small caravan. George tried to remember who’d welded it it up in the first place, but couldn’t. That bothered him. It had made sentry duty so much easier and had been a great help, but George couldn’t remember who’d done it. It made him sad, too; that person was probably dead now – dead because the Rushing Mountain hadn’t rushed enough.

He knew that every single person’s death wasn’t his fault. But he was the lucky one, the special one, and he sometimes felt like he should be able to save everyone. Like the food issue; they were running low, and he wanted to be able to find some more. But it was easier said than done; food wasn’t something he could beat out of the earth.

One of his two radios crackled and George thumbed the volume button, turning it up. A surge of excitement went through him; this was the radio that was scanning the outside bands for noise. For a moment, he thought it was just white noise but then he heard a garbled message. His first thought was to tell the others, but he swallowed his excitement and waited for the message to become clearer. For long, torturous moments, it faded in and out before exploding into a burst of sound.

“-umbia Enclave at the University of Missouri campus. Friendlies are welcome, assholes are not. We’ll share food, water and power with anyone willing to work or with something to trade. Again, come find us in Columbia, Missouri. This message is just repeating so don’t bother trying to talk to us. Just come and find us.” There was a pause, and then the message recycled, “Hello living peoples, this is David at the Columbia Enclave at the University of Missouri…”

Now George called a halt, hopping down to relay his message. A quick consultation with the maps gave them the route and soon they were on the road again. However, it wasn’t all rosy and happy; just outside of town, they found a hand-painted sign: originally, it had said, Head to MU campus - refuge there. That had been crossed out and replaced with, Go the courthouse - watch out for strangers.

It took them some time, but they eventually located the courthouse. They didn’t get a very warm reception. From behind the barricaded walls, a voice called out, "Everyone out of the vehicles. No weapons. Do a three-sixty for me and keep your hands high."

[RushingMountain]

For a moment, George considered, then quickly abandoned the idea of a shoot out. For one thing, it put what remained of the families in the caravan at risk; for another, the caravan hadn't see much in the way of zombie activity in the area, which meant these folks were likely effective.

As much as he hated to take the lead, a decision had to be made, and George was the man in position to make the decision. He cursed his luck that Neiermeier was riding rearguard, and turned to Jeremy, the bus current driver.

"Okay, Jer, I'll go first, give me a minute, then get the women and kids to step out if things look good. If things do go to shit, well, just keep doing what we've done so far." Without waiting for Jeremy's nod, George opened the door to the bus and stepped down the stairs. He really hoped nobody had an itchy trigger finger.

Keeping his hands high and visible, he walked forward, so that he stood in front of the caravan's column. taking a deep breath, George yelled out "There are women and children in the bus! Nobody's going to shoot! Nobody wants trouble!" Slowly and deliberately, George turned around, keeping his arms high, while looking for any signs of trouble, and trying to imply to the rest of the refugee band that they shouldn't be the ones to start it. At the back of the caravan, George could see Neiermeier, the other George in the caravan, stepping out of the surviving police interceptor his hands also up high.

Having completed his spin, George tried to keep attention focused on himself, doggedly resisting the urge to find cover. With another breath, he bellowed "We have trade goods, technical skills, even some tools to use those skills!"

Noticing the faded discolorations on the road, George really hoped the caravan hadn't just rolled into a deathtrap meant for them. He could hear the doors and tailgates of the pickups opening, and men calmly getting out of their vehicles. That was hopefully a good sign. Hopefully any gunmen could also see the children in the bus through the grates placed over the school bus windows.

[Dawn OOC]

George’s answer was a long moment of silence, then another shout. “I’m coming out; if you start trouble, my hidden shooters will finish it. Understood?”

“Understood,” George answered, frowning. This talk of fighting made him nervous and he wondered what plagued these people that they met strangers with this kind of paranoia. Something worse than zombies, his intuition told him.

A burly man walked out, grizzled-looking despite his unlined face. He had a single pistol carried on his right hip but no other visible arms. His eyes swept over George, then the faces behind him. “I need to see your blood.”

“I… What?” George asked, thrown.

“Don’t trust him!” Jeremy called from the bus seat. “We can take him down.”

The stranger stiffened and his hand dropped to his firearm. “You have one more chance to show me that you bleed red or we’re going to shoot you,” their ‘host’ snapped.

[RushingMountain]

George rolled his eyes at Jeremy's yell, hoping the grizzled man would take the hint, then turned sideways, keeping his arms up, shouting "SHUT UP JEREMY!"

He then turned back to the stranger, and, with a arched eyebrows, slowly reached down to with his left hand to pull his Leatherman off its holster. He looked up at the burly stranger, and waited for his nod before actually pulling it out, then again looked at him for a second nod, before unfolding the slicing blade.

"Do you need the cut to be anywhere in particular?" George asked calmly, before continuing.

"The palm is fine," the stranger replied.

George slowly brought his right arm down,still stiffly forward to keep the rough man from being worried about an attack, and with his left hand awkwardly cut into his palm until warm red blood beaded up. When the suspicious stranger was satisfied, he pulled the blade away, and shifted his grip to a delicate non-threatening pinch on the end between his thumb and index finger.

"If you need me to, I'll do this with every other member of the caravan, in front of you. Most of 'em I've known most of them my entire life. The few stragglers we've got have been with us since at least just northeast of Gary, Indiana. As far as I can tell, they're all just normal folks."

George paused, raising his arms again. "Just so I don't surprise you, I'm not so normal anymore. I can turn into rock. If that means I'm not welcome, I understand, but these folks are looking for a home, and I'm guarding them at least until they find someplace safe." George cocked an eyebrow and held his breath, waiting for the man's response.

He really hoped that this would work out. Those families needed to stop living in a modified school bus.

[Dawn OOC]

“It’s not a matter of welcome,” the stranger said, “but I’m not sure we’re saf-” Someone on the bus screamed; George turned just as a gun went off. Jeremy was holding the smoking pistol as the stranger went down, rolling to the ground. George couldn’t see if he’d been hit but Jeremy was still pointing the gun and there were other things to worry about. Like whether Jeremy would shot again – and of course, why Jeremy, one of the least aggressive people in the convey was acting like this to begin with!

[RushingMountain]

"JEHRRRRRRAAAAMY!" George yelled as he sprinted at top speed at his friend, releasing his grip on his knife as he did so.

Click to reveal.. (Intentions)

Roll: [8]. + 8 from initiative = 16.

Activating Rushing Mountain for the scene, 3 QP.

QP -3 = 23/26, sprint = 90m.

I'm assuming Stonemorph will trigger at some point during this furball, 3 QP + 1 Stonemorph.

QP - 3 = 20/26 (unless George miraculously avoids taking damage?)

Roll: [6, 1, 1, 4]. Total Successes: 0. Oh. This round's gonna hurt.

George is attempting to tackle Jeremy, putting him in a hold rather than trying to injure him. Split action tackle maneuver at -2 dice, hold at -3 dice?

Martial Arts 10 - 2 (multiple actions) = 8 dice (+1 -1 from MDex = 0 difficulty): Roll: [6, 7, 5, 9, 5, 9, 7, 5]. Total Successes: 4.

Avoid knockdown as a consequence of tackle:

Athletics 10 - 2 (multiple actions; still on first action) = 8 dice (+2 -1 from MDex = +1 difficulty) attribute steady applies: Roll: [1, 1, 5, 10, 8, 8, 4, 4, 3] + 1. Total Successes with modifier: : 4. I think that should be 2 successes with modifier, actually. I guess the difficulty has to be put in as a negative. My bad.

Damage: pulling damage down to zero. George is just trying to keep Jeremy from doing anything else stupid, because Jeremy has obviously gone insane (or consumed narcotics or something)

Now, assuming George is in contact, he's going to put a hold on Jeremy, with an emphasis on controlling the gun so that it's pointed at George. That way, if Jeremy doesn't come to his senses, nothing can go wrong. Nothing. Right?

Martial Arts 10 - 3 (multiple actions) = 7 dice (+1 assumed for trying to control the location of the gun in this hold? -1 from MDex = 0 difficulty): Roll: [4, 1, 2, 9, 2, 5, 1]. Total Successes: 1. Marvelous.

George crashes into Jeremy with all the might of his nickname, in a valiant effort to get Jeremy under him so that he doesn't get lead poisoning from the plethora of guns that are probably sighting on him at this instant, and in an effort to keep Jeremy from doing the same to anybody else.

From the tail of the Caravan, Officer Neiermeier yells for the rest of the caravan members to "GET DOWN!" Most of them should already be down, and this should bring the rest down.

"What the EFF, Jeremy!" is likely about all George has time to vent before the rotary impeller gets its load of excrement.

[Dawn OOC]

Jeremy laughed; the sound raised the hair on George's neck. The roar of guns exploding cut off the sound, but George knew he'd never forget that inhuman, chilling laugh. The roar of guns became uneven, then died away as no one moved on the bus. It was a waste ammo to keep shooting; George knew they would now be carefully aiming and waiting for something to shoot.

"There's no safety for you here," Jeremy rasped. George heard the sobs and angry cries of his people rising in the silence after the short barrage of fire but he ignored it to focus on the man trapped his grip.

"What?" George asked, blinking. That voice had been Jeremy's but the tonal inflections were all wrong.

"Move on, big boy," Jeremy purred, arching his back against George in a way that definitely wasn't Jeremy and certainly was 150% wrong. Only George's detemination to hold his now-insane friend down kept him from shoving away from that. "There's nothing for you here."

There was a moan from outside the bus. George turned to see the shot man rolling onto his back. There was a hole in his shirt, but under that was a black material of some sort, not skin. "Ow," the man growled, then sat up. "You have one chance to survive this," he growled at George. "Show me your friend's blood, right now."

[RushingMountain]

"Chuck you, Farley," George whispered harshly, then head-butted this thing that looked like his friend. This time he didn't hold back. If it got a bloody nose, that would be fine. A broken neck wouldn't be that big a problem either. George just wanted to see some blood flow.

Click to reveal..

Just in case you need a roll:

Roll: [1, 9, 10, 8, 8, 4, 4, 7, 9, 6]. Total Successes: 6.

If the little bugger squirms, I'm pretty sure I've still got him.

Damage:

Roll: [9, 2, 4, 4, 9, 2, 3]. Total Successes: 2+5 = 7.

George rolled over, to show "Jeremy"'s blood to the grizzled man, still keeping the doppelganger's gun pointed at George.

"I'm pretty sure this.... Thing.... Isn't my friend, even though it looks like him."

In the background, George could hear Neiermeier calming the rest of the caravan members. Neiermeier could handle that for now.

George tightened his hold on the thing. "I don't think there's much safety for you either. What have you done with my friend?"

[Dawn OOC]

The blood that came out of Jeremy's nose was vicious and black; George had seen Jeremy bleed before and this wasn't normal. But the stranger didn't seem surprised; instead, he looked like he was expecting this.

"You can let him go. Your friend is out cold," the stranger said, clambering to his feet. He waved his arms in what was clearly a signal and added, "It's safe for your people to come out now. Well, as safe as they get around here, anyway."

"What the heck is going on?!" George asked, checking to make sure Jeremy was really out before releasing him.

"We have someone who is invading and dominating people to fulfill some agenda," the stranger said. "I'm sorry about your friend, but he's as good as dead. It'd be a mercy to keep him unconscious for now."

"What? Just because that thing took him over?"

"Yeah," the stranger replied. "While he's inside them, it rots their insides. It only takes a few minutes for the process to be like having sepsis throughout your whole body. Good news is we probably have a few hours before he comes back.”

[RushingMountain]

George shook his head, then carefully pried the gun from the limp body's hands, sliding it towards the stranger in the Kevlar vest. He looked at what was left of Jeremy, and fought to keep his breathing clean and even.

"What...." George paused for a second, to catch his breath. "What is it? Something like a zombie?"

"It's not a zombie, son." The stranger offered. The hard set of his face suggested he was still taking George's measure, but there seemed to be a hint of sympathy in his voice as well.

George took a deep breath, before raising his voice. "Okay folks! Park the vehicles in an orderly fashion! Everybody else, lets follow this kindly gentleman's directions and get into some shelter!" George looked down the caravan towards the back. Neiermeier was already pointing the drivers of the interceptors and pickups into appropriate parking spots.

"Eddie, can you get me some duct tape? Mark. I need you to get Jeremy's family in there as fast as possible."

George picked up Jeremy's corpse and walked to the other side of the bus. Not ideal, but the best he could do to keep Jeremy's wife from seeing her husband, under the circumstances. He gestured for the stranger to follow him.

"Can we hold it? Him? Whatever?" George asked the stranger. "Crap. Sorry, my name's George. George Fritsch." George switched Jeremy to his left hand, and held out his right hand to shake the stranger's. As Mark came over with the duct tape, George carefully laid his friend down on the ground, then took the tape, and securely bound the body at the knees, ankles, wrists and elbows. He ignored the drops of moisture running down his face as he did. "Fuckity fuck fuck," he whispered hoarsely under his breath.

[Dawn OOC]

Most of George's people had to hang out in a fortified parking garage with a number of other survivers. When someone asked, their guide said, "Its another caravan of folks, out from Kansas somewhere. Looking to trade. Seem real friendly, if a bit churchy."

"Can't blame them, if they have an angel," a woman standing nearby said.

"A what?" George asked.

The guide shook his head. "You'll just have to see her."

"Yeah, this I have to see," George said. "Where is she?"

"I thought angels were androgynous," Neiermeier muttered, but no one answered him.

George was allowed to select two other people to go with him, and the three of them were allowed to take a firearm and two clips each. A shout alerted them to a new arrival and they turned to find a short, pixy-like woman running toward them. "Colin!" she cried as they came close. "She did it! She did it!"

"Did what?" Colin asked, his brow furrowing.

"She saved Gil! He's alive! She is an angel!"

[RushingMountain]

"Do you want to see an angel?" George asked Neiermeier softly, while the others were distracted by the newly arrived woman.

The old police officer--it was how he still thought of himself--pondered for a moment, then nodded. "I think the boys'll keep things calm enough in here, and you might need a second opinion. Szabo for the third?"

George nodded. He wasn't sure why Sergeant Neiermeier wanted to bring an old tool and die maker along, but George had learned to trust his wisdom with people. Neiermeier certainly new the old timers from his hometown better than George did.

"Parks and Schmidt are keeping an eye on Jeremy for now," Neiermeier added. George tensed momentarily, then released the tension with a calm exhalation. A beginning is the time for taking the most delicate care that the balances are correct. Once he was re-centered, he stepped forward to Colin.

George glanced back to the rest of his people. The men had formed a loose perimeter. In the weeks since their migration had started, the farmers, townsfolk and officer-trainees had all integrated into a coherent group in a way that they hadn't achieved when the plan had simply been to stay put and dig in. Most of the women were taking care of things that needed doing: mending clothes, or knitting new ones, or feeding children. The farm women had calmly set an example, and most of the rest of the women had seen the wisdom of it. A number of the women were currently doing their best to comfort Jeremy's wife. He would not think of her as a widow yet, even though he suspected most of his people were thinking it.

Neiermeier had his service P229 on. Szabo was unarmed--the man apparently had faith in the facility they were in, or at least in the two men he was with--understandably. He wasn't what anyone would ever call a good shot anyways.

"I'm going to meet this angel," George stated with an air of humble inevitability, like a farmer proclaiming it would rain tonight. "I need to see if she can save my friend."

[Dawn OOC]

"Come on!" Cherry said, taking his hand and taking two steps before turning back. "Oh, and bring your friend. If she can help, it'd be better to have him with you for her to work on. Please Colin, let them bring him!"

"Fine," Colin said, and though he acted grumpy, George could tell that the man didn't really mind bringing Jeremy along. It only took a few minutes to work up a stretcher that Szabo and Neiermeier carried together.

Cherry took over, tugging on George's hand as she pulled him toward a blocky building further south on campus. He couldn't tell if she was flirting or just so excited that she wasn't aware that she was pulling on him like a kid. As they walked, she pointed out the library, a massive ediface of gray brick. "And this is the Ag Building," Cherry said as they approached it, a tall, square building made of yellow bricks. She led them inside and down the basement, where there was a makeshift clinic - and an angel.

[RushingMountain]

Well, we're certainly not in Kansas, George found himself thinking as they approached the yellow brick building. The emotional turmoil of this day--of this whole trip--must be getting to him, because George's legs actually felt a little wobbly and Jello-like.

"Do you really think she can help Jeremy?" he asked Cherry. His voice sounded a lot calmer than he actually felt. "I mean, was that friend of yours--Gil?--was he possessed by that thing as well?"

They pressed through the small circle of people, and he saw her. "Make a hole, people!" he boomed out. Maybe every second was crucial, and Jeremy just had to live!

People parted before Neiermeier and Szabo like the Red Sea before the Israelites, and George got his first good look at her. She actually had feathered wings, like you'd expect, but there also seemed to be a glow around her. George suddenly felt a bit of tightness in his chest, and a corresponding shortness of breath. He stepped forward, to stand beside Jeremy, now placed on a gurney, and barely managed to gasp out a single word: "Please?"

[z016]

Gabrielle blinked as the impromptu infirmary was invaded, having just really caught her breath from healing Gil. By the time George had gasped out his plea, however, she was already at Jeremy's side. "This will take a while," she said softly, her voice tinged with worry and concentration, but otherwise as light and clear as one would expect from an angel.

She placed one hand against Jeremy's forehead and the other over his chest; she whispered prayers to herself as she called up her power once again, plunging deep into her own strength and conviction to fuel the miracle of her healing once again. Slowly, Jeremy's color began to improve; his body shifted and popped as bones put themselves aright. Bruises bloomed black, the purple, then yellow, and finally faded into his natural skin tone. Even after all outward signs of injury were gone, the angel pushed on; the room became warm and then almost tropically hot as the golden glow around her and Jeremy intensified. It was a little over an hour before she was done, and between the heat and her efforts her skin and clothes were drenched in sweat.

She pulled her hands back from Jeremy, breaking the spell of her healing, and sat down heavily on one of the open cots. "There. He needs some rest, and he'll be quite hungry when he wakes up, but he'll live." She looked up at the mountain of a stranger in the room, really seeing him for the first time, and asked, "Um....I'm Gabrielle; and you are?"

[RushingMountain]

George blinked. He had been transfixed through the entire process, watching the miraculous recovery of his friend's body under the glowing touch of the winged woman in front of him. He slowly turned and focused himself on the moment here. He blinked again to clear the moistening of his eyes, then smiled.

"Sorry, must be a bit dusty in here," he squeaked, then cleared his throat, and put out his right hand. "George Fritsch. Pleased tomeetcha. And thanks. If there's anything I can do to return the favour, just name it."

George stole a glance at Neiermeier and Szabo, and noticed that the dust must be affecting them a bit, too. He smiled and looked back at the angel. "I've never met an angel before. How do you rank? Cherubim? Sepharim?" His playful smile and the twinkle in his eyes contrasting to his straight even tone.

[z016]

Gabrielle blinked again and answered in all seriousness, "If I am truly an angel, then that is all I am. I would not place myself so high as the Cherubim or Seraphim." She glance at her wings, "And I have only two wings. Cherubim have four, and Seraphim six."

A blond young man materialized at the angel's side, proffering a hand towel. "Thanks Caleb." She scrubbed her face and neck down, getting rid of the sticky-sweat feeling and looking much more like a tired teenager than a celestial being by the time she was done. "Um, is that all? I mean, is there anyone else? I don't know that I'm really up for much more today."

"Then just tell them you're done for the day," the young man insisted. "You've saved two lives already and you look tired." His concern and protectiveness radiated off of him much as the healing heat had from Gabrielle, filling the room. He frowned at Cherry, "Does this....possessor...demon...creature usually attack many of your people in one day?"

[RushingMountain]

George blinked. Note to self: don't assume angels have a sense of humour. George returned to the somberness he'd been feeling only a few moments ago.

"Well, be that as it may, I truly meant what I said about favours. We thought he was dead, and his wife is already grieving. I think the rest of us are pretty much fine by comparison. Tired from the long trip, but relatively healthy." A forlorn tension crept back into his voice. "Since Z-day*, life's become a series of Bernoulli trials for everybody, it seems. Heads you live, tails you die. They just need somewhere they can rest for a bit."

Neiermeier, meanwhile, was examining the blond man next to Gabrielle, and glancing over at Cherry occasionally. Even without the OPP uniform, his manner had 5-0 written all over it. "Colin, Cherry, I'm sure there are other things we need to deal with, but I'm with Caleb: How much of a problem is that thing. How do we fight it, or at least guard against it?"

George sighed. Once again, my poor leadership comes through. He nodded respectfully to Caleb by way of apology, then looked at the two 'natives'.

----------

* George pronounces that the Canadian way, as "zed-day".

[Dawn OOC]

Colin sighed. "We think he is around here somewhere, in town, but we're not sure where. Columbia is large enough to hide a single person, especially one that can divert searches around where he is. We've actually come close a time or two, only to have the person searching that area come to themselves and die."

A tall, lean man with slightly curly hair spoke next. "What does he want?" Jacobs asked, leaning against a wall.

"Things. We'll find someone putting food or luxuries outside a fence; sometimes we'll find that a door has been left unlocked," Colin replied. A look of disgust crossed his face. "We once had two hundred people here; now we're down to fifty because most left rather than risk dying to this thing. We probably all should have left, but we have something good here. The campus is pretty safe in itself."

"So he's not part of campus?" Jacobs asked.

"We don't think so. All the stuff gets left outside," Cherry said.

"That doesn't mean much," Jacobs said. "First thing is determine if this guy is one of you. And then look for the zombie clump outside."

[RushingMountain]

"Well, maybe we should start by making sure that everyone in this room isn't him? Is he still inside Jeremy, or whatever it was that happened?" George took a look at Jeremy's unconscious form, then switched his gaze to Gabrielle.

"I'm assuming by your expression that as far as you can tell he is," George continued holding his hand up to suggest she continue to relax. "So why don't we take Jacobs suggestion and make sure everyone int this room is clean? I'm guessing you're confident the blood test will tell, Colin? Once we're clear about everyone in this room, we can figure out how to go on outside of it? Anyone opposed?" George finished with that last question scanning the room, as though he was asking if everyone was fine with pizza for lunch.

Neiermeier nodded attentively, his face passive. He kept an eye on the crowd, but most of his visual attention was on scanning the room's exits, and his right hand close to his holster. He noticed Jacobs come to attention as well as George spoke. The man looked like he might be good with his hands. He'd have to try to make time to talk shop with him later.

[Dawn OOC]

"He might be in Jeremy still, but given that Miss Gabrielle was able to heal him, I doubt it," Colin replied. "I think he'd still be making your friend sick and she would still be working on him." Implicit in the statement was Colin's belief that Gabrielle wouldn't stop trying to save someone.

"Let's check everyone, then," Caleb said. He dug out a small pocket watch and asked, "Is a small hole enough?"

"Just bleed," Colin said; almost before he was done taking, Caleb had jabbed himself in the finger. Holding it out to show the drop of red blood, he passed his knife to the man next to him, Jacobs.

Jacobs took it and asked, "Got some rubbing alcohol?"

"Got whiskey," Colin replied.

"Good enough."

It took some time, but they confirmed everyone in the room was clean. "Now, this is our group of trusted people," Jacobs said. "What's the chance of the guy jumping into us?"

"He's done two jumps in as many hours," Colin answered. "That's the most he's ever done. I hope it means he's really tired."

"Alright, now we split into two. One group, the admin group starts checking the visitors out - the two caravans," Jacobs continued. "They'll have to keep them busy and together, so that if he does jump into someone in that group, his damage is limited. The rest of us go to search the enclave, see if he's hiding in the membership. Gabrielle, we'll need your insight into people. You have the best chance of spotting him."

[RushingMountain]

Neiermeier took off the OPP ball cap that he habitually wore, and scratched his head. George cocked an eyebrow at him, waiting for the idea he was mulling over to come together. It only took a few seconds.

"Well, I guess that the target's not that tough, since George didn't even get stony to deal with it when it was in Jeremy. It seems to me that if it's around, it's likely not in the caravan group, but if it is, between the two groups, more or less half of us should know if something's up." George paused for a moment, absently brushing dandruff off his shoulders with the edges of his hands before continuing.

"Since it appears the target can be taken down by normal means, and since everybody else in our caravan is normal as far as I know, I'd like to suggest Caleb or Jacobs, Colin or Cheery, and I deal with the people in the staging area. It seems we're just doing C-Y-A there anyways. That leaves George and Gabrielle to deal with the natives, which should work fine if there are any problems. I don't know enough about the local politics to know if that's the best way to go, but it seems we should have a representative from each group to take care of any issues in each section."

Neiermeier stretched his head to the left for a moment, then straightened it again nodding. "Unless someone has a better idea?"

George nodded his head. "That seems reasonable. If I'd realized someone was going around possessing people, I would've paid more attention to how Jeremy was acting when he did act up. Since we're all alert now, it shouldn't happen again, right?" George looked at the movers and shakers in the room: Gabrielle, Caleb, Jacobs, Colin, and Cherry, trying to gauge their reactions.

[z016]

"That sounds like a fine idea," Gabrielle spoke smoothly as she cut off both Caleb and Jacobs before they could speak. "Caleb, why don't you go check on our people, and Jacobs, you can go with Colin or Cherry to meet the other newcomers. George and I can speak with the rest of the Columbia enclave and see what help we can be in the meantime. I think for now that we should limit how much each of the groups mix, at least until there's some procedures in place to guard against this...this demon." The anger and spite that filled that word seemed so at odds with Gabrielle's usual soft demeanor, but what would anger and angel more than a demon?

"Cherry? Could you take us to the community leaders or organizers here? We should check them next, and then determine how we'll capture this demon after that."

[RushingMountain]

Neiermeier and George shot each other a quick look, before Neiermeier corralled Szabo along with him into the corridor, outside the infirmary.

George stood up, clearly waiting for Cherry to lead himself and Gabrielle. He stepped to the side after a moment to make sure that Gabrielle had enough room for her enormous wings, but clearly looked ready to catch her too.

"Uhm, is there anything we should know before we talk to the local leaders?" George asked, glancing back and forth between Cherry and Colin. "I just want to make sure we don't get knocked on our--ahem--don't have any more rude surprises. Besides, I don't know that we can afford them." With that last, he took a quick side long glance at Gabrielle and Jeremy.

* * *

Outside, Neiermeier turned to Szabo, while he pulled a chunk of chewing tobacco out of the tin in his jacket. "That boy's still got a way's to go, but he's getting better."

"Ya," Szabo responded. "Too bad his father can't see it, though." There was still a hint of his father's heavy Hungarian accent in the forty year old's own voice.

Neiermeier grunted in agreement, as he started working on the was he'd just popped into his mouth. He checked the chamber of his pistol to make sure it was loaded, then checked the clip to make sure it was full, and slammed the clip back in.

"Your boys will be able to tell your nervous if you're not careful, though," Szabo said, with the hint of a grin cracking his face.

"Huh? I don't know what you're talking about," Neiermeier replied.

[Dawn OOC]

"Our leaders are three, me, a woman named Jackie and another fellow named Ralph," Colin said, tilting his head up to stare out a window. The bird outside fluttered away, apparently from the force of his glare. "We were picked to lead, though that mostly means makin' all the shitty decisions. Honestly, the question of how much help we'll take is really damned easy: All we can get."

"This used to be a nice place," Cherry said softly. "We had a good thing with the campus, and then one asshole had to mess it all up." She looked close to tears as they walked; Colin reached over and punched her lightly in the shoulder in a misguided male attempt to cheer her up. It stopped the tears as she scowled at him.

"You'll get no surprises from the community," Colin added, "unless you mean the surprise party we'll throw you if you nail this sucker."

"Well, the surprise party we were going to throw you," Cherry muttered, rolling her eyes. "Ain't gonna be a surprise now, is it?"

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Philip woke up slowly, blinking against a rather bright light. It was, he realized, the sun beating down on him without mercy.

"Oh, thank god." Philip turned his head slowly to see Claire sitting against a red brick wall. "I wasn't sure you were going to wake up."

"What happened?" Philip asked, looking around. "The last thing I remember is..."

-running from the zombies, so many and they were killing and eating and they ate John and so many people, just ate them-

"We're in Columbia, I think," Claire said, her hazel eyes red and puffy. He remembered that she'd been crying the last time he'd seen her; she'd watched her father die at a zombie's hands. Her lip ring glinted in the sunlight as she rubbed her eyes wearily. "I mean... didn't you lead us here? Before you did all that weird shit?"

"What?" Philip asked. "All I remember is the attack on the lab, and making the weapon work. I remember leaving and heading for the lights we saw. That's it."

"You started to act like you were headed somewhere. You went to a building and started to do weird stuff, like changing the shape of bricks and stuff. And... what's going on, Philip?"

[RushingMountain]

George looked at Cherry in a fit of saintly innocence. "Surprise? What surprise? I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about. Now, we have people to meet and places to be!" Cherry shot him a suspicious look, then, for some reason punched him in his right bicep. George mimed being in pain for a moment, but now with a smile on his face.

A moment later, George looked at Gabrielle, who seemed to be having some sort of silent argument with Caleb. He apparently only caught the end of it, because Caleb shot George a look that might have been fury or maybe just frustration, before marching out the door. Jacobs looked back at the George, then Gabrielle, then followed Caleb discreetly out the door. The way Jacobs moved vaguely reminded George of a young Officer Neiermeier for some reason.

Gabrielle stood up, seemingly wobbling for a moment, although it might just have been a flicker of her glowing aura. Then she straightened, and seemed to regain her strength, as she strode forward in a way that George could only call divine.

"Cherry, I figure I better be the one to talk to Jackie and Ralph." Colin finally chimed in, breaking his gaze from the tree outside and looking at her. "I'm pretty sure we both know what they'll say, but it should still be me to bring it to them."

Cherry just nodded. "Alright. I guess I get to go with the visitors then. You'd all better be good!" she chirped before stepping out the door.

"Oh, by the way, is it only humans that demon can possess?" George asked.

* * *

Outside, Caleb came out the door, his face looking as though he could bore a hole through a cinder block with his stare. He didn't even wait, but simply started walking back towards the parking structure. Neiermeier and Szabo glanced at each other, and quickly realized they had both expected something like this might happen. Jacobs came out right then, looked at the two older men, and grinned slightly.

Jacobs nodded to Szabo, then turned to Neiermeier. "We're going to have to talk shop later, aren't we?" Jacobs asked levelly.

Neiermeier nodded. "It'll probably have to be later, but yeah. I guess, eh?" He looked back at the door just as Cherry popped out.

"Alright. Let's try to keep him down to a dull roar, shall we?" Neiermeier asked, his eyes already scanning their surroundings again.

The group turned, and hurriedly followed after Caleb.

[z016]

Gabrielle blinked and looked George over once again with a more appreciative look. "That is an excellent question. Do you have anyone else here that has been gifted?"

She walked as close as she could to the others without hitting them with her wings, but George's agreement with her that they were facing a demon had eased some of the tension out of the young woman. Her smile took years off of her countenance; George realized she'd probably still been in high school when z-day hit. She walked with more confidence than most teens now, though, and was surrounded by a haze of serenity so at odd with the conversation - hell, the world since z-day. "Has the demon seemed to want to go after anything in particular? Items? People? Places? Does it seem to fixate on something at all?"

***

Caleb managed to reel his emotions in enough to slow down as they finally came up on the travelling enclave; he reluctantly let the others take the lead as he pulled a safety pin off his jeans, pocketing the small scrap of cloth that was acting as one of his belt loops.

"Here," he said, holding the bit of metal out to Neiermeier, "we can use this to test people. Um...how much should we tell everyone? We don't want to panic anyone."

[32767]

"I start carving bricks?" Philip asked confused.

"No, molding them, with your hands!" Claire replied

Philip sat up. This was making no sense. He went to scratch his head, but there was no hair. That, and his head seemed to keep going.

Looking at his hand in disbelief, he said "now I know this can't be real" as he was saying this, he pinched himself. It didn't hurt as much as it should, but still hurt. "or not..."

Philip stood up and started pacing. "Ok, lets look at the facts. Everything was normal, we opened the door, and .... they came. We lost half our group, fought our way out. On our way to the best chance of civilisation, I start acting weird and doing things I can't remember. And now I seem to be changed." Philip stopped and asked Claire "Did I say anything? Do you know where I went? Did I interact with something out of the ordinary? Did I seem to focus on one area when 'shaping'?"

Looking at Claire, Philip realised how bad a shape she was in. "Sorry, I am just trying to make sense of this. Are you ok?"

[Dawn OOC]

Rushing Mountain and Gabrielle

Cherry shrugged. “We don’t know. We didn’t have anyone with your kind of gifts before you guys came. And before that jerk. That’s part of the reason we’ve had it so hard. We don’t have anyone of like powers to help us.” She brightened a little. “Until you, that is.

“As for what it wants, we don’t know,” she continued. “He seems to go after food, clothes – necessary items, but he’ll take batteries, electronics, CDs… anything it seems he wants. We figure that he’s just a greedy prick who’s taking whatever he wants.”

Cherry suddenly looked up at George. “So, ya think you’re going to stay with us? I mean when all the trouble is done… think you guys might want to stay here? I mean… you aren’t traders, right? Or um…” She trailed off and blushed cutely. “Am I making some bad assumptions? As well as babbling like a moron?”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Neiemeier frowned. “We’ll tell my folks the truth,” he said. “Won’t tell them that it’s fatal, cause with your angel-friend, it isn’t. But think about it – once we’ve cleared everyone, unless we wanna keep checking them, we need people to watch one another. Buddy everyone up and have them report anyone acting out of character. Tell them that it makes people sick and the angel needs to treat them so that no one tries to protect a loved one.”

“Good plan,” Caleb said as Jacobs said, “Solid.” The two men looked at one another.

“So,” Neiemeier said, “you boys fightin’ over the angel, or just having a general pissin’ match?”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Claire was quiet for a moment. “I… I’ll be… Later, Philip,” she said softly. She rubbed at her eyes and said, “I can’t deal with that right now. We’re still not safe; we have six other people to worry about.”

“Six?”

“Some of the other people got out, when you used your weapon. It saved some people,” Claire said softly. “You’re a hero.” She looked at him a little more closely. “Does any of that new stuff… hurt? Your eyes, your head? Are you ok?”

[32767]

"Physically, no. And as you said, we don't have time for otherwise." Having said that, Philip took, a moment to get his bearings.

"Looks like we are on the University of Missouri-Columbia campus, not far from Townsend Hall. Seems like a good place to find... Them. Unless it is civilised that is. If there are people, they must have found a way to survive. Claire, where there lights coming from this direction? I seem to have a problem with my memory after we exited the facility."

"Yeah, last night, there were lights, and you pointed them out and we went," the girl told him, her teeth worrying her lip ring.

"Well, they are sure to have at least a safe haven." Philip said checking his gun. "I say we should look for the survivors as soon as everyone is ready. This used to be a populated area. So if the movies are anything to go by, we should be prepared to meet.. Them again."

[RushingMountain]

George & Gabrielle

George blinked at Cherry. She's flirting with you, the Rational Voice in his head said with a bit of a chuckle. How would Claire feel about that? George frowned thinking back to the last time he'd seen Claire alive.

Click to reveal.. (What's going on in George's mind?)

George was just servicing targets, but they were coming around the old house too fast, a flood of corpses. A biblical flood, even.

"Shit! Run Claire!"

He took three out without a scratch, when one made a lunge for him from his flank.

Suddenly, George's Louisville slugger was swinging over his shoulder, smashing through the zombie's body, and looking over his shoulder, George could see a zombie lunging for Claire, who was now defenseless. Then another grabbed her as well.

"NOOOO!" George shouted, horrified,

He turned on the safety automatically, as he stood to start butting the zombies with the butt of his rifle.

It didn't matter. She'd already been bitten twice. There was also a wicked slash across her belly. Her intestines were hanging out, and a dark liquid was pooling underneath her.

Too late, wonderboy. She's bit, Rational Voice mocked him, as Claire let out an anguished screamed. The headache that he'd felt coming on suddenly exploded inside his head, and the ringing of his ears was drowned out by a sound like enormous waves crashing against a rocky coast. George's vision narrowed, and he felt as though someone had let loose a floodgate of all the anger and rage and frustration he'd ever felt, magnified a thousand fold. Pragmatic voice yelled in his head GIT! 'ER! DDOONNEE!!

What felt like moments later, but must have been longer, George felt the rage sinking, but not going away, like a great shark sinking back into the depths. George looked around, at the bloody guts and bone fragments that had been spread evenly throughout the area. Teeth and bone splinters embedded in the siding and facia of this side of the farm house. Deep tread marks in the back lawn showing where Drei had gunned it against the cold, sandy earth of these parts. Nothing stirred that wasn't moved by the wind. In this yard, three things stood untouched. Claire's body, with no bite marks on here beyond the first ones of the two zombies that had tackled her; mom, with her neck at an unnatural angle, was on top of her, limp and lifeless. George stood a foot to the side of them, covered in bodily fluids from at least sixty other.... Humans? Former Humans? Everything was cold and still, unmoving as stone.

George blinked, and realized that Cherry and Gabrielle were both staring at him.

"Sorry. I was just thinking back to The Day." He paused for a moment, looking at both of the ladies. "I've been looking for a place for my... people to stay. I hadn't really thought about where I'd end up, though. It's not that I'm a trader or anything like that. It's just..." George sighed a big sigh. "Look, I smash zombies good. Not as good as I'd like, because a lot of people I cared for are dead, but good enough that people really prefer me being around to not being around. If it weren't for my powers, though, Neiermeier would be in charge. Hell, he practically is in charge anyways. There's not much I get people doing without checking it through with him."

George sighed again, an even bigger sigh, as he ran his hand through his hair, before continuing in his Southwestern Ontario farmer's accent. "The other thing is, people are afraid of me. If I wanted to do something, the whole group probably couldn't stop me. I haven't touched alcohol or anything like that since Zed Day. I haven't stayed up too late unless I've had to be killing zombies. Sometimes, especially in the earlier days, though, there have been too many, and I ended up saving one group of people at the cost of another." George shrugged, the frustration he was feeling etched on his features. "Then, we realized we had to leave, because the seedlings in every greenhouse were dying after sprouting. We had to leave. We came up with a plan based on messages from HAM radio operators--Old Will Richards is--was--a hobby HAM operator--which is how we ended up hear, now, but not before being hit at Port Huron. It wasn't just raiders. Some sort of paramilitary outfit. We lost at least two thirds of our people there."

George stopped as he screwed his face up tight for a moment, and he started to breath hard for almost half a minute, before seeming to relax a little bit. He opened his eyes, looking at Cherry. "I need to find a safe place for these people. But I'm not going to stay if they don't want me to. I can't force myself on them after everything they've already been through. They really don't need to just trade one thug in for another."

[z016]

Gabrielle gift George with a true smile, giving credence to her nickname, "That's good to hear, George. I worried about that when I was given leadership as well; when we grew, though, there were others that stepped up to help and lead. I think we've all been stronger for it since then."

Her smile slipped as her thoughts went back to the problem of crops. "The crops....yes, they're not growing. Weeds are, though. It seems anything man has touched refuses to grow now." She bit her lip, obviously thinking something over, but kept her silence on whatever it was. "God still provides though; the wild plants still grow. We'll simply have to learn to do with that."

"If your friends need a place to be, Hayes is open to them. We've built up fences and cleared many of the zombies out of the campus. We're about four hundred strong now." She shrugged, "Although I have to admit that Columbia seems to have a larger campus and more amenities. The power plant I saw on the way in is far larger than the one we have in Hayes; we get hot water most of the time and lights when we need them at night, but nothing else."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Jacobs gave a laconically shrug, "Pissin' contest, far as I can tell." He nodded towards Caleb, who was just staring at the two men, mouth slightly agape, "Though you'll have t'a ask him about feelings for Gabrielle."

Caleb's mouth shut with an audible clack and he scowled at Jacobs. "Why don't we just stick to what she told us to do?" His tone could of frozen Hell and he turned on his heel away from the others and towards the caravan without another word.

[RushingMountain]

Gabrielle's smile somehow made George feel better. He still had his demons, but they didn't seem to bother him as much. Mostly. At least Gabrielle's smile didn't seem to confuse him, the way Cherry's did.

Turning back to Cherry, George saw she was still waiting for something from him. He cautiously smiled at her. "Sorry, I guess that didn't really answer your question." He considered what to say carefully. Foot-in-mouth disease seemed to come naturally to him when he talked to women.

"I'm really not sure where I'm going to stay. I don't even really think about it. Most of those folks I came with were people I grew up with; the village that raised me. The outsiders there are the folks we picked up coming through the outskirts of Sarnia and Flint and Gary and Springfield. Those folks we picked up, they didn't have anyone to lean on, and they're in the worst shape. But they're all the people that I'm trying to help. And I guess you and yours, too, now. Honestly, Neiermeier and Jeremy probably spend more time thinking about my future than I do. There's too many people leaning on me for me to worry about myself." He shrugged, and tried to smile. "It's not the best answer, but it's the honest one, eh?"

Cherry smiled, a slightly sad little smile. "Okay," she chirped, "But once we get our jerk-problem taken care of, you'd better start thinking about yourself, too!" She actually jabbed his chest with each of the last seven words, solidly enough that he actually grunted, but it made him smile, and that seemed to make her smile in return. She grabbed his hand, and started pulling him into the building they had just come up to, glancing back to make sure Gabrielle followed, then turning to open the door.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Neiermeier grinned at Caleb's retreating back, but Jacobs saw the smile never touched his eyes. Then Neiermeier turned to Jacobs, dropping the smile from his face and nodded as the two men started walking. "Used to be a Gunny in the 1st/9th, back in 'Nam."

[Dawn OOC]

The six Claire had mentioned were inside Townsend itself, huddled in one of the rooms. "When you collapsed, everyone was afraid to move you," Claire explained as they rounded people up.

"Are you... ok now, Philip?" Amos was one of his co-workers, a biochemist who'd been working on a better fuel cell for the machine. The man looked nervous even when not in a zombie infested land.

"Well enough," Philip told him, not wanting to drag out the moment. They should find real shelter first.

They didn't have to go far for signs of civilization. On an impulse, Philip led them toward the library; given Ellis' confusing set up and multiple partitions, it seemed a good place to hole up. The others seemed too willing to let him make the decisions. They walked only a short distance before they found a fence, blocking their route. It was a chain link, obviously erected in haste. A hand-painted plywood sign ordered them to keep the gate shut at all times. The latch on the gate was a chain, secured with a D-ring clip instead of a padlock.

"Should we?" Claire asked. Her question seemed to answer itself when they saw three people emerge from the far corner of the building, walking toward the front doors of the library. The single male was merely a large man, well-muscled and all-American. One woman was a petite blonde who could only be described a 'pixish'. The third person was the really eye-catching one; she was, for lack of any better description, an angel.

Click to reveal..

PCs of the world, UNITE!

[RushingMountain]

"Wow!" George said, as Cherry pulled him into the building. "The engineering buildings at Waterloo were all either in the school of 'modern labratory' or 'post-modern bunker', all cinderblock and poured concrete and occasionally weird half-underground." He held one of the doors open for Gabrielle, concious of her wings, and Cherry eased up on pulling him when she saw what he was doing, but only until Gabrielle had opened the other door and glided into the large open space.

"These buildings are more like the 'modern majestic' style, eh?" His sneakers quietly squelched on the dark green resin floor, in contrast to the scuffling of Cherry's boots.

He turned and looked to Gabrielle, trusting Cherry's guidance and comfort with their surroundings to let him know if he was going to hurt himself. "I do want to hear more about your 'Hayes refuge'," George said to the angel trailing behind him. Cherry stopped pulling him forward for a moment, then resumed. "Especially if there are more like us. But when we've got more time for it, eh?"

Cherry lead them down one of the wide corridors to a black door with a small wire glass window set in it. She tapped out a strange syncopated beat lightly on the door. George heard a chair scrape back against the floor inside the room.