Tiny motes of dust kicked up in his wake as his snakeskin boots clomped across the empty street toward the hospital. Slowly, the man named Siena Cypress Sapharr came to a stop below one of the flickering lights outside of the Emergency Room doors. It's yellowish tint cast a pallor across his tanned skin. In the shadow of dusk a slight spark grew to brief life as he lit the cigarette which dangled from his lips. A sharp fwoosh of inhaled breath stirred him to renewed action even as it made the cigarette glow. He walked toward the ER doors and pushed them open, exhaling a halo of smoke about himself. His eyes darted keenly around the rooms and curtained areas as he took note of the others who were there.
Ash folded her arms in front of her, eyeing the smoker a moment. "You sick," she called. "Or here to trade?
He smiled thinly, another billow of smoke blown in Ash's direction. "I am most certainly sick."
Her eye began to twitch oddly like Trelnikk’s. "Ya? Tell me where it hurts."
"Where the sun don't shine sweetie." His books clip-clopped across the clean floor as he continued to peruse his surroundings. "Nice digs ya got here." The antiseptic room was gleaming white and partitioned off by cloth walls. Siena walked past Ash and blew smoke from his cig in her face.
"I'll trade you water for the smokes," she managed when she recovered from a small fit of coughing.
His perfectly manicured finger poked at one of the cloth walls. "Clean sheets too," he said, offering a salacious smile to Ash. "Gotta like clean sheets."
Greg made his way through the few people gathered in the ER area toward the door marked "Lab."
"It's clean water," Ash contended, narrowing her ice blue eyes on Siena as if daring him to doubt her.
"Water? For me smokes?" He let out a quiet chuckle. "I think not."
Goon, who'd been eyeing Ash's collection of stuff, accidentally poked one of the flasks too hard and knocked it over. The flask clattered to the floor and bounced three times. Goon was so afraid it would break that he grabbed for it all too quickly and moved it back to the table to set it upright. In the process, he knocked two more over, the contents within sloshed about. He flailed wildly and bumped into the table in a rabid attempt to keep the flasks from harm.
Hearing the dull thump of Goon bumping against the table, Ash looked away from a potential deal for the benefit of the hospital to the mess. "Aw Goon..." She saw the paper clips scatter, tinkling, to the ground and called out, "Greg!"
"What?" he returned in a holler, half spinning.
"Greg ... give Goon a hand would ya?"
Goon grinned as he nabbed the containers. Ash, watching mutely, patted the big guy's shoulder as he flopped to the ground. He set the containers up on the table at last, victorious and took note of the paper clips. "Goon sorry, Goon get!" He hopped up to go after them and whacked his head on the bottom of the table which flattened him out again on the floor. "Oof!"
"Yipes! Goon!"
"Yeah, no problem." He strolled his way over to the prone Goon and knelt down beside him. "You okay big guy?"
Goon crawled slowly to the paper clips and made an effort to pick them up, one by one, while laying on his stomach on the floor. He whacked his chin on the floor in the process of nodding, "Goon OK." It was ungodly slow going for the big guy. His big fingers had difficulty with the tiny objects. Greg gathered up as many as he could and handed them over to Goon who accepted them in a massive hand.
"There ya go big guy."
"Goon thank!" He grinned at Greg and slowly slid out from under the table. In order not to drop them again, he moved excessively slowly and carefully.
Greg stood, smiling, the while keeping his eye on Goon. "Good work Goon. Ya done good."
The big man delicately dropped the clips on the table. He moved to stand far, far away from the goods and grinned at Greg. "Goon happy do lot good!"
"Who's in charge a dis place anyway?" The suave man stopped before a computer terminal and raked his fingers across the keys. He slipped into the chair with ease and kicked his scaled boots up onto one of the hospital beds close by.
"You new in town?" Ash asked Siena.
He gave a matter-of-fact chuckle. "Kinda." His eyes drifted heavenward and he took note of the security cameras. He had no doubt that was what they were and that they were likely linked to the computer.
Since Greg had Goon well in hand, Ash sauntered over to Siena. "Well, just so you know, boyo. All politics remain outside, right?"
"Politics? Whatcha talkin about dearie?" With his feet still propped up on the bed he took another drag from his cigarette and the embers at it's tip flared to bright life.
Ash was quick. She pushed his feet off the exam table and snapped. "You ain't that new."
His feet thudded hard as they hit the ground, and a slight frown came to his lips. Under her continued scrutiny, the frown became a serpentine smile which crossed his lips as he stood, extending a tanned hand. "Name's Siena, dearie," he said. "And I do not like politics either." He hissed the words with sibilant tones, watching her as she shook his hand. Her skin was warm and felt far cleaner than expected.
"Mirandahh Drachenn," Ash told him her name. Behind her, the door slid open and dust swirled in about the boots of a man known as Bad Zac who entered the hospital warily, his eyes darting here and there, his posture defensive. "Hooboy...hot times. You sick or here to trade?"
The man's one eyed gaze fell on Ash. In a low, nearly monotone voice he announced, "Trade."
"You've come to the right place. What you got?" Ash was thrilled to have someone in the hospital with whom to swap goods. Who knew what she might get?
"I need some food. Got any?" He reached up casually and scratched at what the eye patch covered.
Siena pulled his hand away, assuming himself forgotten momentarily as the paramedic went about her business of trading. He grumbled, "Stinking Meds," which Ash heard but chose to ignore, one eye on him whether he knew it or not. The man spun on his heels, clearly the motion of a flamboyant soul and looked back down at the terminal -- the real excuse for his visit. "Hmmm..." he said to himself, extinguishing the butt of his cigarette on one of the sparkly, clean beds with a ‘fffssssss’ of sound. He plopped down in the chair by the terminal and poked at the keys. He was quiet and Ash was busy …
"I got food," Ash told the man before her. "What do you have?"
Zac shifted his gaze, then peeled the pack from his back to set it on the counter. He shook his head slightly. "Whatcha got for food, first, missy?"
She spread out her hands -- offer, supplication, salesmanship, who knew? "I got clean water. And I got jerky. The good stuff. Pure rock phlupp."
He snorted and pulled his pouch from his pack. "I got the same. In trade. Sounds like its partly edible. I'll take it for half this bag."
"Bah.... I need bandages. A burn plate?"
Zac arched his brow. "Guess we need to make some kind of arrangement then." The two began to haggle in earnest. Meanwhile, essentially unnoticed, Siena made himself intrusive at the computer terminal. He was startled slightly when his poking at the keys was rewarded by the image of Elliot Technologies springing to life on the screen. A flicker of his eyes and a tiny smile were all that betrayed his alertness to those around him, had they been watching. He stared at the cursor waiting for further information to appear or a chance to input some of his own.
With Goon behaving himself, Greg glanced around looking for Meralynn. "Mer...uh..where'd she go?" He searched the room with his eyes, looking for the young woman who clearly was not there and called to Ash, "Hey, where's Meralynn?" As he passed by her, walking down the hall muttering about Mera’s disappearance, Ash called out to him midst negotiations with Zac that Mera had gone out with Ed. Greg, not liking this, growled and cursed his displeasure. He made his way into the lab and was promptly followed by Goon who didn't so much open the doors as dislodge them. Several shouts followed, Goon trying to explain his boredom as he flailed his way back out. Zac’s hand strayed to his weapon as he and Ash haggled about his price-food-for finding the burn plates she needed, but the big guy who did damage just by moving didn't seem to be a personal threat so he relaxed.
Siena’s fingers flew, familiar with the keyboard beneath them. He attempted to access file after file, slightly audible beeps denying him what he desired. The haggling between Zac and Ash served his purpose. Their loud voices covered the growing cacophony of beeps and critical stops denying him access. It would have been so much easier to speak to Elliot himself, but that would have been far too public for his sensitive work.
"Jerky for my time," Zac was saying. "I'll get you that plate. Half a pack of jerky for the labor. The other half when I deliver."
Ash, unafraid of his size or strength, or perhaps too crazy to notice, got right up in Zac’s face. "Listen one-eye," she told him, her excellent bedside manner having no place in trade negotiations, "I'll give you a quarter pack and another when you produce the plate."
Chased out of the lab, and looking very bored, Goon blink-blinked a few times, his eyes on the stranger who was making the thing he'd been told not to touch beep excessively. He crept closer, in as much as a man his size could creep, and stood silently, watching as Siena worked. The man was more and more absorbed in what he was doing which allowed Goon to stand, curiously observing, with impunity.
Zac was pleased. He'd asked for far more than would have been fair and got more than he'd expected when she offered him half a pack total. He managed to keep all but a half smirk of that pleasure off his face so as not to give himself away. He jutted his chin out, his own posture menacing, and said, "Look lady. It ain't easy gettin workin’ stuff 'round here. Quarter now, and a clean shower. The rest when I deliver."
"You ain't got to tell that me," Ash considered. The hospital needed that burn plate, more than one if Zac could really get his hands on them, but one would be a start. "Throw in some gauze and it's a deal," she said finally, her eyebrows raised in tandem question.
He grinned, a flash of pleasure, then he straightened up once more. His fingers tugged on a pack of smokes and he popped one in his mouth. Leaving the cigarette unlit, dangling from dry lips, he tilted his head to her, giving her a quick once over and then he grinned more broadly. "Deal."
She grinned too and held out her hand which he took. They shook firmly and she said, "Done."
===
Goon shuffled over to Mira quietly, perplexed. "Smart nurse lady?" Ash looked way up at him and, attention diverted from Zac for a moment, asked him what was wrong. He pointed in the general direction of Siena. "Why lot strange man do thing with thing tell Goon no for to touch?"
"I dunno, Goon, luv. I dunno." She watched a moment as Siena’s hand fell to his firearm and Greg confronted him about what he was doing. There were a few tense moments before Greg offered to help the man log in and Ash saw Siena’s hand leave the weapon to extend to the screen. She heard him say something about a password, and then the two were leaning over the terminal and all seemed well. Ash turned to Zac who's casual posture was betrayed by his fingers tapping on the old receptionist's desk countertop. Greg seemed to have Siena in hand and she had business with Zac to wrap up so she left the others to fiddle with Elliot.
"Communal showers are on the second floor." Ash said, plucking a key card from her pocket.
"Yep. But I uh..." He looked behind her to the others.
"Ease up. I ain't gonna gyp ya. Listen, this has got 10 minutes left. Swipe it through the sensor and you got hot water."
He smiled. "Hot water? Cool. So then I trust I can shower ... then eat?"
Ash nodded. "C'mon... follow me..."
Zac nodded and did something he read about in a book long, long ago. He bowed her out the door of the waiting room. "After you," he said and moved with her along a corridor toward the street side door. His boots thunked on the hard tile as he walked, the cigarette in his lips moving from one corner of his mouth to the other. He followed her purposeful stride, taking note at how economically she moved. She turned before she reached the door and he stopped abruptly, almost toe to toe with her. "Hold on a second. Where the hell you taking me?"
She paused, a glance thrown over her shoulder at him. "Where I stash the food." Without further word, she lead the way to the hospital's ambulance bay. She made no moves he could distrust so he followed her, still his one eye was narrowed and his body alert for possible betrayal. Light sticks spit and fizzled but maintained an eerie glow around a burned out ambulance. The shadows shifted as the lights blinked in fits of existence. His eye roved a bit, looking for any unwanted scavengers. "Nice digs for food," he murmured to himself.
"Yeah ... well, I sealed everything off. No ratts in here." The back doors of the ambulance hissed open, the seal broken.
He crossed his arms as he watched, his fingers hidden within his overcoat, while Ash jumped into the ambulance and began to rummage about. He could see that the inside of the ambulance was filled with dried foodstuffs, spare parts, clothing. He figured if he named it, it was probably there -- except of course for the burn plate she needed. Leaning against the back of the door, he found a better vantage for his eye to search within to see if she had some and just didn't know it. "So... All this stuff and no burn plates?"
With a thunk, an airtight packet of jerky landed on the floor in front of him. "Last one burned out last night."
He nodded. He didn't know if she'd tossed it on purpose but he'd not touch it until she handed it to him. He had no intentions of taking more than the deal was for.
Ash scuttled out of the ambulance with another package. She shoved it toward Zac and said, "Here," she indicated both packs. "This should be enough for the deal." She twisted her head, hearing a call through the damaged wall from the waiting room. Someone was asking for a healer. She was startled by the sound of a body falling -- a sound she knew too well -- so she dashed out of the bay and back into the ER without even closing the ambulance door.
Zac sidestepped, letting her go out in front of him. "Yep. Would have to agree," he said with a grin to himself. His one eye blinked, then looked around. Clearly he was alone and he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hmmm..." It was a moment only before he shrugged, let out a sigh and shut the ambulance door, resealing it. "Must be gettin’ soft," he muttered. He bent to retrieve the other pack of jerky, the two making up the quarter of a case that they'd agreed to as his price. Quietly he headed away from the emergency and the hustle and bustle he could hear following the thud of the body and made his way to the second floor.
====
Greg had logged him in and Siena watched every move the man made, pleased by the turn of events. Once in, though limited by Greg’s distrust of him, he offered a bright smile. The sinister aspect of it was almost too slight to see. "Your a good man." As he turned from Greg to the screen, Siena muttered to himself, "Lucky I dinna give ya another hole in da head." His fingers flashed across the keyboard. He was searching for the Hospital specs and while his left hand typed, his right reached into the inside pocket of his trench coat. He pulled forth a floppy disk.
"Thanks," Greg said, not really meaning it. He had moved off to the side once Siena was in, but didn't move away. Goon shuffled toward the computer a half step, far too curious about all this not to move. Greg couldn't help but grin as Goon wandered even a bit closer, squinting over Siena’s shoulder at the screen where the man worked. Goon's brow was furrowed with concentration in an effort to read what was on the screen.
Suddenly Siena looked up at the creature looking down at him and turned to face it. "Chew Mind?" He fairly shouted, his eyes narrowed.
Goon flailed backward and tripped over a chair. He tumbled to the floor with a loud thump of sound and blinked, wide-eyed at Siena. "Goon sorry!" Greg flinched as Goon hit, but was sure Goon wasn't hurt. The big man seemed to stumble into things constantly and rarely suffered damage.
The angry man looked at him as if he were stupid and yelled again. "Chew mind not reading over my shoulder?" He grumbled, "Stupid Rad-Freek," and turned back to the screen. He popped the floppy into the drive and it began to whir.
Goon stared at the ceiling until Greg, his brow twisted in a furrow, helped Goon up. "It's all right big guy … some people just aren't friendly."
His big floppy feet rolled over and slowly planted themselves on the floor. He rose up from the clumsy half-somersault and flopped backward from the momentum onto his rear end. He nodded sadly to Greg and ambled back to his feet at last.
Siena muttered to the air, "Consider yourself lucky I only yelled." The light on the disk-drive blinked out as the files he was searching for were downloaded. Pushing the release, he pulled the disk back out and secreted it away in his trench coat pocket.
Finished with dealing with Siena, Greg turned to Goon and said, "Tell ya what Goon, why don't you and I go look through the store room for stuff to trade?" Goon nodded vigorously, grinning the while. Greg turned to lead the way down the hall, but Siena was not about to have them just walk away. He spun in his chair and pointed a finger at Goon.
"Hey you." Halted by the tone, Goon blinked. "What the Hades are ya?"
"Goon not know Hades," the big man said and grinned. Thinking he had answered sufficiently, he began to shuffle off after Greg.
"Whatever." He flung his hands about in an irate manner. "Whatever you are, come 'ere."
"Goon no do bad thing! Whyfor want Goon come?"
Siena pointed a threatening finger at Goon, displeased by his slow obedience. "You listen when I call you. You hear?"
Goon blinked in confusion. "Goon hear OK."
Not liking it at all, Greg paused and said, "What do you want with him?" He motioned for Goon to stay put and the big man seemed to mentally flounder a moment, looking between the two smaller men.
"It's okay Goon, go on to the Store Room," Greg told him.
"You shadup," Siena told Greg sharply. He looked at Goon expectantly and the big man shuffled over.
He grinned. "Smart nurse lady say Goon hear lot lot good!"
"Well, listen up then... Goon… Don't you ever watch me when I am on the 'puter. You hear?"
Goon blinked, again puzzled. He'd already told the man twice that he heard just fine. So he clarified his position by saying, "Goon no watch lot strange man. Goon watch picture word thing!"
"You know what I mean." Behind the big man, someone in trouble had entered but Siena hardly saw him fall.
Goon nodded, thought, then shook his head, clearly confused. He turned to look at Greg for an explanation, but Greg wasn't there. Greg was beside a fallen wounded man.
====
Ash ran back along the corridors, Zac forgotten. Someone needed help and she needed to be there. She heard Greg near the man, trying to discover who he was. They never did get his name. Ash nearly plowed through Goon to get to the collapsed fellow. He was moaning and tried several times to rise.
"Easy now, boyo ... can you hear me?" She spoke in soft tones to the man on the floor. Greg knelt beside them, checking the patient's pulse and looking for other open wounds. The man's left leg was all too plainly bloodied and Greg and Ash saw it at the same time. "Aw crap ... would you look at his leg?" Greg nodded to Ash and looked up to Goon. "Goon," he ordered, his voice hard, his hand pointed at the far cabinet. "get the soft white cloth from that drawer." With pinpoint pressure, Greg’s fingers pushed against the wound, just above the bleeding artery.
"I was zapped ... necromancer..."
Siena’s attention perked up when he heard that from the patient and he casually made his way closer. Goon's bulk helped to hide his interest. He made his way into a nearby chair and coughed, his words directed toward the suffering man. "Did you say Necromancer?" Siena leaned forward in his seat so as not to miss a thing and listened intently to the downed man's babbling. He said something about a portal and the past and a cult of people who shot him up with something. "Hmmm," Siena said, "did you say ‘Cult’?" Chanting cults, how interesting. Absentmindedly Siena pulled a pure-gold, engraved cigarette case from his trench and tapped it open. The symbol of the Cult of the Demon was engraved on the case, visible briefly to the man on the ground as he clamped it shut and slipped it back in his trench. A cigarette dangled from his lips.
"Yes," the man told Siena, as if having someone paying attention to his words was more important than someone fixing his wounds.
"How do you know it was a Cult?" Siena questioned him regardless of his medical condition, or the people around him, working.
"Some … men in robes," the patient gasped in pain. "I stumbled on them while exploring a mountain... I thought they had water..."
Greg looked from the leg to the man's face. "Man ... you musta taken a good hit," he mumbled. "To the head..."
The ER was full of people, Siena, Goon, Greg, the downed man. Ash felt beads of sweat break out on her forehead. Ghosts rushed at her, dying and she muttered, "Oh damn ... they're dying…" Greg looked at her and said something she couldn't precisely here. She felt all fuddle focused. She leaned back on her heels, abandoning treatment of the patient and found herself staring at the street-side doors. She barely heard Greg shouting at Goon to get the gauze. She didn't hear Goon speaking to her, or see his hand wave in front of her eyes. Her lips were moving and she was speaking softly. "What do you want me to do? I got wounded in here too." Faintly she heard Greg yell at her, and she heard Goon's voice which oddly, suddenly snapped her back, but she didn't see him when she finally looked around. For the moment, the ghosts faded. "What?" she said. Then, "Oh, crud…"
Ash, the smart nurse lady, had returned. To Goon this meant that order ought to be restored, but it wasn't. Instead confusion and chaos reigned as the man on the floor seemed more sick than wounded though he was bleeding. Goon realized that with the exception of getting gauze for the fix-people he couldn't help and that realization sent him outside, away from the sickness, into a sulking funk.
For he knew if there was one wounded man, there would be more.
"Mirandahh! Snap out of it!"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah..." she said to Greg as if her departure from reality meant nothing. She twisted and grabbed the man's legs while Greg in lieu of Goon, grabbed the guy's torso. "Up on the table... One, two… THREE." Ash staggered, cursed under her breath and she and Greg managed to get the man on the exam table. The patient fell into unconsciousness as soon as they moved him.
A woman slipped in like a bit of night breeze. Her eyes were like glowing embers and she stood in the shadows along the wall. She blended with them and watched all that transpired in a soulless silence. Her jet robes shifted over the floor as she crouched down to adjust a worn boot, or perhaps something within that boot.
"Robes?" Siena said to himself pondering the downed man's words. He sounded almost confused. "No cult I know wears robes." His interest waned, as his cigarette seemed to light itself within the caress of his lips. "If that guy dies I get first dibs on his gear." The smirk at his own humor wrapped itself around the burning cigarette.
Slanted, flashing eyes looked to Siena a moment. His comment brought a slight tinge of mirth to the mouth beneath. She slipped out from the shadowed recesses near the door and moved more closely to the curtains which hid something she wanted like to ... see.
Greg angrily tossed a glare to the stranger laying claim to the wounded man's possessions. He grabbed a pair of gloves from the box on the counter and pulled them roughly on. Tugging away the bloody gauze, he grimaced. "Man … this is one hell of a wound…" Greg made his way to the supply drawer in the small cabinet in the curtained area where the wounded man lay. He pulled out a syringe still in it's package and gathered up morphine, bandages and antiseptic from the cabinet below the drawer. He set them on the counter and prepared an injection.
Siena stood and walked over to the Medicos and the wounded man. The woman in robes moved with a swaying grace and silence despite booted heels. They both stared down at the wounded man, certain of his fate already. "Let me tellya Mac. No cult attacked ya."
"You're right, stranger..." the golden-eyed woman told Siena. "Cults do not exist here." There may or may not have been humor in her tone of silk and sand.
Tired of the congestion around the wounded man's bed, Ash glared up at Siena. "Look...if you ain't helping...you get out and wait in the lobby, right?" Without waiting for his answer, she snapped to the person in robes she could see not far behind Siena, "You sick? Wounded?"
"Neither," the soft whisper came in reply. "Waiting." The eyes past the shadow of the robe's hood flickered softly and steadily.
"Then wait out there. Thanks." The sarcasm in Ash's voice was as sharp as the needle Greg prepared.
Coming around, the dying man's bloodshot eyes opened. He spied the paraphernalia that Greg had assembled and began to thrash about and holler. "No ... no shots!"
Greg Calso looked at the man who was thrashing wildly about and yelled for Goon. "Goon! Hold him down!" Feeling and seeing no immediate help, he looked around for the big man himself. "Man...where is he?" He held the man down as best he could and Siena heard Greg scream as he and the robed woman left the curtained area, "GOON! Get in here!"