Beginning by Veil Sixclaw, Rest by Marissa W.
Story line by Veil Sixclaw
Dr. Edward Marcase awoke, cold and tingly. Everything around him was blurry and he had trouble thinking through the dark fog surrounding his mind. He was lying on something cold and hard. Soon, he realized it was a cement floor. Things began to clear in his field of vision and he could see a row of metal framed hospital beds. They had thin mattresses and white sheets. In between the beds were small wooden night-stands, covered with small bottles scattered, tin bowls, towels, and syringes. He realized that he was sitting in a similar row, between two of the beds.
Edward didnt understand where he was or how he had gotten there. As he stood up, a dizzy spell hit him and dark spots danced across his vision. There were two black skinned people lying in beds. They looked sick. A basic instinct told him to go to help them, but he decided to ignore it for the time being. He remembered this room, only it had been a lot more crowded then. His movements had been stiff and restricted then, things had also seemed slightly blurry, as though through a piece of glass....
He noticed a woman with red, short hair and hazel eyes wearing a strange, space-suit like, light blue suit that fully covered her body, sealing her off from the world around her. She looked tired he noted. He approached her, light headed, hoping to ask her some questions. She didnt seem to notice him at all, simply walking by. He called out after her, trying to get her attention. Excuse me, miss. I need some help... He trailed off. She wasnt listening at all.
Marcase turned away from her and began walking in the direction she had come from. She must be going deaf or something, he thought to himself, shaking his head. There was a long hallway, the walls: whitewashed. It was quite depressing. At the end of the hallway there was a door, which was partially closed. He remembered that this particular door, when moved on its hinges, made the most terrible screeching noise. How he knew this, he couldnt remember. Since it was early morning, he simply squeezed through the gap. He expected to brush against the door as he went through, but, instead, where his arms would have touched the wood and metal, there was the most terrible chill, as though the full area had been momentarily covered in ice. Marcase shrugged off the feeling as he stepped outdoors.
Looking at the tropical foliage and the alien buildings, he remembered that he was in south-central Africa, Zimbabwe. Colorful, early morning birds fluttered through the branches of the over hanging trees. He turned around to look at the door through which he had scarped. There was a sign, florescent orange, with a flowery, black symbol and writing on it reading: BIOHAZARD. The word seemed familiar, but he couldnt seem to remember anything definite. With a shake of his head he walked towards and small camp of canvas tents, surrounded by a moat of dirty liquid. He remembered that this was bleach, to keep the sickness from entering the camp.
Sickness? he thought to himself. Yes, there was something about a disease that struck him as significant. As he reached the mote, he remembered that he was supposed to disinfect his suit. But, since he wasnt wearing one of those strange, plastic suits, he simply stomped his sneakers in the dirty liquid. This action made no ripples in the puddle, he noted, but made his feet feel like ice.
Ignoring the sensation, he continued into the camp, recalling that one of these tents belonged to him. Searching for one that seemed familiar, he noticed crying sounds emminating from a tent close by. The front flap was hung open and he let himself inside. An Asian woman in a dirty, medical smock was sitting in a folding chair by a make-shift bed in the dimly lit corner. One hand was holding her forehead, the other was twirling something small through her fingers. The light occasionally caught it and bounced back a flash of gold. She was crying, letting the tears slide down her cheeks. Her dark, smooth hair was mattered and out of order. He immediately recognized her as a close friend, someone he had known for a long time.
Dr. Shiroma? Marcase asked as he walked towards her and bent down on his toes before the chair. Whats wrong? What happened?
She continued sobbing, not acknowledging him.
Please, Kimberly, what happened? I want to know.
She stood and wiped idly at her large, dark eyes were puffy form lack of sleep and wet face from her ceaseless crying as she put the small object in her hand back into a little black box. He noticed it was a gold engagement ring without a stone. He remembered the ring, who had given it to Shiroma, what had happened to that man, how it was all Marcases fault. He felt his stomach sink. She walked out of her tent, he followed her. She began walking about the camp and Marcase was determined to find out why she was so upset.
Is it something about Alan? Im still sorry about that. Stop, please. Listen to me! He was getting frustrated. Why would no one answer his questions?
Soon, Shiroma arrived at a closed tent. She lifted the flap in the front and called quietly to the person inside, Dr. Cassian?
Yes? A stern, emotionless voice answered from within the tent. Marcase recognized it instantly.
Shiroma lifted the flap fully open and walked inside, Marcase in her wake.Cassian was sitting at a simple desk, made of cement bricks and two sheets of plywood, filling out several forms. He turned as Shiroma entered and stood to place a hand on her back as she walked towards him.
Dr. Shiroma, you should have gotten some rest as I said.
I couldnt sleep, she replied, making another wipe at her face.
I know this has been hard on you, more so than the rest of us.
What? Whats been so difficult? Someone answer me!! Marcase cut into the conversation, but still was not heard.
Where do we go from here? Must we bury him here like the rest of them?
Him who!? Marcases temper began to flare.
No, I dont think so. Well need to get to his will when we get back to Washington DC. We wont be able to bury him quite yet. There are some tests that will be run. He sat down and looked up to Kimberly, who had a look of disapproval on her face. I know that doesnt seem like an appropriate thing to do, but thats only because we knew him. He returned to his paper work as she turned away from him, staring into a corner of the tent. Besides the desk, there was only a cot with a small pillow and blanket, and a mosqito net draped around it. Ive contacted Micheal. Hes agreed to help make some arrangements. He looked back up to her. Kimberly, if you need to, you can always talk to me. She finally looked up to him.
I just dont understand how he could have died! she suddenly burst out. Cassian slighlty jumped, but let her continue on. It was a weaker mutation of Ebola. Why did it kill him? Marcases heart sunk into his stomach. He didnt like the way this was sounding.
I understand how you feel. He looked to her again, chilled by an icy looked that said, No you dont.
Okay, youre right. I dont. But Im just as confused as you are about this. Edward should have survived it fully.
If Marcase had a heartbeat, he knew that it would have stopped.
Theyre talking about me. Im the one who died!
Six figures stood in the distance, all dressed in black except for one, all their heads bowed except for one. The outstanding one was the late Dr. Edward Marcase. The others were a priest, Daniel Cassian, Micheal Hailey, Kimberly Shiroma, Bryan Taft, and Jake Lightman.
Kimberly Shiroma was wearing a long, black dress, gently dabbing at her puffy eyes, swollen from countless hours of crying and lack of sleep. Micheal Hailey stood next to her, holding his arm around her trying his best to comfort her. Daniel Cassian stood a few feet apart from the rest, squinting even though he was wearing his sunglasses. Insid he felt an extreme regret at acting the way he had over the short time that he knew Edward Marcase. He had always wanted to apologize, but it seemed he never had enough time to. Now it was too late. Bryan Taft felt a bit out of place. He had never met the man he was attending the sevice of, yet he seemed somehow, obligated, to be there. He had heard many stories about him and would have loved to have met him. Jake Lightman felt like both Taft and Cassian combined; out of place and in extreme regret for acting the way he had.
Then, there was Marcase. Possibly the most out of place of all, attending his own service. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to overcome the strange, new feeling he felt throughout his entire body. It changed from time to time, depending on who he was around. Right now, he felt feelings of sorrow, remorse, regret, and so many others he could not identify. This sensation was so new to him he couldnt interpret it all at once.He was slowly beginning to accept that fact that he could actually be dead. *But why am I still here? Do I have some duty to fufil?* His reverie was broken by the quiet closure of the service, everyone shaking hands or hugging accordingly. Everyone departed and returned to their cars, all except for Kimberly who stayed behind for a few moments.
Kimberly stooped down over his headstone, placing a single, white rose on it. She traced the silver engraved letters with her fingers. Edward, Im going to find out why you died. Nothing should have happened to you. You should have been perfectly safe from any harm. She slowly stood up, dabbing gently at her eyes again and headed up to her car.
Marcase stood there, staring at the marker. It wasnt a grave yet; his body was still being kept at the lab for further study into the disease. Before leaving to work in Zimbabwe, both he and Shiroma had signed to several agreements that would allow any research to be performed on their bodies if the disease were to strike them. As she passed through him, Marcase not jumping out of the way in enought time, he shuddered at the sudden chill that enveloped him. Thats when it hit him. He knew he had to somehow get someone to see him.
Edward followed Hailey through the medical compound, both on their way to the medical lab.
Hailey didnt know why he was going there. There was no need for him there. All that Cassian and Shiroma were doing was tests to look into the disease. When he got to the observation bay, his ideas were changed. It was now only Cassian trying to perform the tests, holding a serynge in his hand ready to draw tissue samples from Edwards body. He was being held at bay by Shiroma, who held a scalpel in her right hand, ready to strike. I wont let you do this. He has rights.
Hes dead, Shiroma, Cassian said, wanting to talk some sense into her. He signed contracts agreeing to this.
Edward suddenly got a cold chill. He was completely baffled. He felt what Shiroma was thinking. He watched in humorless amusment at what she was prepared to do to stop Cassian. *Shes ready to castrate the guy! Hows she going to get through the suit?* At that thought, he remembered something.
*Hes going into hemorrhagic shock! Marcase yelled out, trying to hold down the young boy who had suddenly went into convulsions.
Youll want the usual, I take it? Shiroma asked simply, already handing him a hypodermic needle. He took it and stuck it into the boys arm, sending the drug into his blood stream. As the boy began to calm, Marcase began to withdraw the needle, only to have the boy return to his convulsing state, sending the needle into Marcases right side. Shiroma gasped instantly at the sight.
Edward, we have to get you into decon NOW! Marcase simply shook his head. No, Ill be alright. Little did he know that within a few days, he would be dead.*
Edward shook his head of the thoughts, looking up to realize that Cassian had not succeeded in getting past Shiroma yet. *Nows a good of a time as any to try this.* Edward quickly thought back to all the movies that he had seen that included a ghost that had not passed onto the next life struggling to be seen. He walked into the lab and up to Shiroma, where upon he began to concentrate as hard as he could. He placed his hand on hers, feeling a little more resistance than he would have normally. He concentrated harder, trying to move the hand that grasped the scalpel firmly. He succeeded only enough to startle her, dropping the scalpel-turned-weapon.
What was that? she gasped, looking about her.
What was what? Cassian asked, slipping behind the confused Shiroma to get the tissue samples.
It, it felt like someone had moved my hand, only there wasnt anyone there. Cassian nodded his head.
Edward wanted to try something else, but after dropping to his knees in dizziness and nearly passing out, he decided not to. If this is what he could expect everytime, he decided to only do this on a must-only basis. At least he knew it worked.
Marcase rolled onto his back not remembering the past few hours. He felt dizzy and disoriented, and extremely tired. He opened his eyes only to be blinded by a bright white light. *This is it. Im passing onto the next level.* He tried to move and found it extremely difficult. His vision soon cleared, and he found himself not in Heaven, but still in the lab of one of the estates. After looking around a bit, he finally found enough strength to pull himself to his feet. Over in a corner was Shiroma, sulking silently to herself. Cassian was at one of the computer stations, looking at what appeared to be a virus. Hailey was nowhere to be found. Within minutes, he remebered where he was, why he was there, and what had happened. He now knew what he must do. Sitting down in one of the nearby chairs, he found this would be useless without concentraiting. So, he happily accepted the floor. He didnt know why he didnt fall through the floor, but decided not to think about it. There were more important things to think about.
Now that he knew that he was able to manipulate things, he went through the list of people he could try to contact. There was no way he would try Jake. Would probably try to kill himself. Not Shiroma. Shed probably die of shock. He had to think long and hard about Cassian, since he would understand this having died himself. *Listen to yourself, Edward. Going on about this. Its as though you know what youre talking about.* He decided against Cassian, wondering whether he would understand *fully* his situation. Not Hailey, either. Too grounded. Finally, he chose Taft. Doesnt know him that well, but he guessed that would be a good point. There wouldnt be any worry about past conflicts, and it just seemed like a good choice.
*Now,* he thought, *all I need to do is find out where hes staying.*
Bryan Taft sat down at the nook table, removing his tie and threw it on one of the two beds in his small hotel room. He picked up his coffee mug and took a sip from it, glad that the day was over. Just as he finished that thought, his cell phone rang.
Taft, he said as he answered it.
Hey, Taft. Its Hailey. Listen. I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go around town and see some of the sights. Theres a couple of really nice golf courses in the area. Maybe hit a round?
No, not tonight. Im just gonna sit back here and relax.
Well, thats too bad cause Im on my way over there right now. In fact, Im about five minutes away.
What? Cmon, Micheal. I took a midnight flight to get here and I had to switch flights three times with an hour delay in between each one, he complained.
Micheal still wasnt listening. I said, too bad. Before long, Taft heard a car pulling up outside and a horn honk. Taft just ignored it. He sat there and looked about the room, spotting a newspaper on the counter next to the table. He picked it up and thumbed through it, then disturbed by a knocking at the door. He cursed slightly under his breath, knowing exactly who it was.
Go away, Micheal. As though he had said nothing, the door opened and in stepped Hailey. Altough he was not seen, Marcase entered close after him, sliding in just as Hailey closed the door. He wandered to where Taft sat, standing just behind the chair.
*This is the guy Cassian hired to replace Shiroma and I?* he asked himself in disbelief.
Look, Micheal. Maybe tomorrow. All I want to do right now is just sit back and relax. Can you let me do just that? Taft whined, still looking through the paper although having lost all interest in it. There is no way youre going to be able to get me out of here. Taft stood his ground, mentally cementing himself into the chair.
Fine. Be that way. Course when I take you to all the up-town bars, they wont be too interested in you after some of the things that Ive said about you.
Sure, whatever. I dont really care. Just leave me alone. With that, Hailey turned around and left, not wanting to try any further.
*Perfect. Now I can see if hell beleive me.....*
Taft sat quietly at the table, glad Hailey decided not to pester him any further. Now that he no longer needed a prop, he tossed the paper aside and put his feet up on the nook table. Mmm. This is much better, he commented to himself as he quickly got comfy. But just as he did, he quickly bolted up and picked up the phone. Marcase watched him as he dialed, then wait for someone to pick up. Hey, Margret? Yeah! This is Bryan. What do you mean Bryan who? We were supposed to...have a.....aw, nuts! he exclaimed as she hung up and his remembering thier date last night. The one that turned out that he stood her up at. Dammit! Marcase watched him as he dialed another number.
*Bet its another girl,* Edward thought.
Hey, Jennifer!......Yeah, well, um, thats what I called about. Listen, I cant make it tonight......Im in DC for a funeral.........Yeah, he was a great guy....Yeah, its been kind of hard. Edward didnt like this guy. He bent down to Tafts ear level to see if he was able to hear the other side of the conversaition.
Are you going to be all right? he heard a womans voice ask.
Yeah, Ill be okay. Edward hated this guy now. He started to re-think which person he wanted to try and communicate with, but he still seemed like the logical choice.
Is there anything I can do for you? he heard her talk again.
No, Ill be alright, Taft said with mock-hurt. Marcase wanted to strangle this guy. Maybe after I get back we could get together? He made his voice sound like his eyes would look.
Yeah, I guess. Look, are you sure youre going to be alright? she asked again.
*And shes buying this?!?* Marcase was astounded.
Yes, Im sure Im alright. Look, Ive still got to unpack and I still want a little more time to settle down here for the next few days. Ill call you later, alright? Marcase stood up not wanting to hear anymore. He watched Taft hang up the phone, and he could have sworn he looked pleased with himself.
You BASTARD!!!!! Marcase screamed, still knowing full well that he wasnt able to hear him. You use my death for your own love-life?!? He looked about the room for something he could start to wreak havoc with. He spotted a coffee machine that he could break and use to cut him with-*No, Edward. That wouldnt be right. Now just get him to notice you.* He looked around the room again, forgetting about the coffee pot. He spotted the light switch, headed over to it. He stood there, concentrating, and finally, flipped it off.
What the hell? Taft asked to no one, looking up to see why the lights had suddenly turned off. He spotted the problem immediately. Now how did this happen? He walked over to the panel by the door and turned the switch back to the on postition. Just as he did that, the light in the bathroom turned on. Taft furrowed his brow, walking over to the bathroom door. He turned that one off, only to result in the turning on of the small lamp on the night-stand between the two beds. What the hell is going on? Taft asked himself, walking over to the night-stand to turn off the lamp. When he stepped up to the table, he noticed that there was a pencil on it with a pad of paper on it. And the pencil was rolling back and forth a bit. Taft dismissed this as it moving from him walking across the floor. He reached for the lamp, but was distracted once again by the pencil. Jesus! he yelled as he jumped back, tripping over his suitcase that was behind him. Ouch! he cried as his head hit the floor soundly. He rubbed at it as he got back to his feet, thinking that what he had just seen was his imagination. He crawled over to the table, keeping the pencil and paper just out of sight. He peered up over the edge of the stand, releived to notice that the pencil had stopped moving. Oh, my God. he said under his breath.
On the paper was written: U use my deth to get date?
Taft smacked himself in the head. No. Im not seeing this. This is not happening. He closed his eyes, opened them and looked back to the paper. The message was still there. Cmon, Taft. Get a grip. Edward is dead. He is NOT writing to you. He watched the pencil raise once again and followed its slow, deliberated writing.
Yes i m.
Taft nodded his head. Okay. Its a dream. If you follow it out, it will end, he said, deciding to play along. He sat down on the bed, thinking of a question to ask Marcase.
So. You really a ghost?"
I ges. *Must be writing like that to save time,* Taft noted to himself.
Um, do you think there is something we can do about it?
Getting tired. Y or N qs only.
Alright. Do you want me to tell Hailey about this?
Do you want me to tell Kimberly?
Do you want me to tell Cassian?
"Well why not?
Oh, right! Sorry. Yes or no only. Okay, Ill go with that. Do you want me to tell Jake?
N, only this time, it was huge.
Okay, I wouldnt really want to either. Taft watched the pencil as it sunk slowly to the table. *If this is real, this is INCREDIBLE!* He thought for a moment, then out loud. You dont have to reply to any of this, I just want to see what it sounds like out loud. He paused for a moment again, gathering his thoughts once more. Okay. First, why your conciousness is still here. Maybe, you werent supposed to die yet, your time isnt up. But, youre body ceased to function. Why? To do some task?
Marcase was listening intetly to his thinkings, but decided to interrupt. N he wrote on the paper. He didnt think that was true. He set the pencil back down. He watched Taft look upon the paper.
What? You dont think thats right?
Oh. How do you know? No wait. Nevermind that. He furrowed his brow in thought. Hey! Maybe we can bring you back!
Marcase thought this was an excellent time to comment by putting a giant ? down.
Well, there have been documented cases where people have been frozen for extended periods of time that they have been brought back to life from.
Y or N! Marcase was getting exhausted from concentrating too hard.
Right! Sorry again. Umm, I think we could do the same thing with you.
? i died naturaly
So? Its worth a shot, isnt it?
Okay, good. Ill call Kimberly and Hailey and tell them what were planning to do. Taft didnt expect a response after the pencil had fallen to the table, then to the floor.
Shiroma sat on her bed, still confused about what had happened that day. When she was holding the scalpel to stop Cassian, it felt like someone had tried to move her hand. Only it felt--abstract, as though something werent really there, like a thought. Several thoughts swam in her head as she laid down and pulled the the covers up to her chin. As she did, she was, as always, she did not notice Marcase in the shadows.
*No wonder she didnt pick up,* he thought as he noticed the phone lying off the hook on a small table next to her bed. He walked over to the edge of her bed, kneeling down beside her. He concentrated for a moment, then leaned over to kiss her slightly on the cheek. But before he knew it, he had slipped into her dream.*Edward knew full where he was, as well as the time. He was in Africa, when he was working with Alan. Edward! a voice shouted to him from behind. He turned, recognizing it as Alans. Edward! We need you in the hospital! Edward was confused. *How can he see me? Im not part of her dream.* He followed Alan, seeing several people in hemorrhagic shock. They instantly went to help a young boy. Hes the worst of them. Someone handed him a hypo, not knowing what to do with it. He handed it over to Alan, who proceded to inject the vial into the boy. *No. This isnt happening. This isnt happening.* Edward told himself. He watched in horror as the boy calmed, Alan withdrew the needle. Just as he did, the boy went back into convulsions, sending the needle into his own stomach. Edward felt the immediate urge to say something. Instead, he grabbed a nearby serynge filled with a light pink fluid and stuck it immediately into Alans arm. He permitted this, knowing that it was serum from an Ebola survivor. Edward looked around as the area around him disappeared, turning into a large room filled with people. He looked around and noticed that it was a funeral parlor. He saw Alans fiance, Kimberly, sitting on a chair crying softly to herself. He walked over to her, knowing exactly what to say. Alans dead, but Im not, he told her, watching her look up in horor and in shock her face.*
Kimberly woke up with a start, not sure what had just happened. Shed had this dream several times before, but not with Marcase acting the way he did. She pulled the covers up around her, cold, and not sure why. It was the same feeling she had felt at Marcases memorial service, only slightly different. She sat thinking for a moment, her reverie interrupted by a worried knocking at the door. Kimberly? Are you alright? Although she didnt recognize the voice at first, she got up to answer the door to find Bryan Taft standing there. What are you doing here? Its.... she paused a moment to look at the clock which hung above the door, ....two am. Listen. I know youre not going to beleive me when I say this, but, he paused to look in behind her. Youre alone, right?" Kimberly looked at him quizically. Yes. Why? Um, can we talk inside? Sure. She stepped aside to let him in, keeping an eye on him. He turned around to look at her. Um, Kim, youre gonna think Im crazy for saying this, but, he paused again, Edward isnt dead. She just stared at him. I know you dont believe me, but Im serious. Over at my hotel room, I was talking to him. She still stared at him. You still dont beleive me. Look, um, he pulled a pad of paper and pencil out of his pocket and set it down on the entry way table. Edward, are you here. They both watched as the pencil began to twitch, then rise to the air. Shiroma was confused, amazed, and scared all at the same time. Taft just stood back and watched as though it were a normal occurrence in his life. Y Okay, good. You didnt fall out of the car on the way over here. Taft chuckled a bit, then stopped as he noticed a frowney face was drawn on the paper. Oh, um, sorry. Bryan, what is going on? Shiroma asked. Thats Edward! he shouted, pointing to the paper and pencil. Shiroma stared at him again. What I think is that hes not dead. I think that if we get over to the medical facility and try to revive him- he began to rush out, his mind over-flowing with thoughts. Bryan, even if this IS him and we arent just imagining this, and if we ARE able to revive him, whos to say about the brain-damage? *Just tell him what he might want to hear and maybe hell go away.* Hes been dead for almost two weeks. Even her own words stung. She worked to hold back the pain of her realization. I know that, but what if it works? He didnt notice the pain she was trying so dearly to hide. There have been cases where people have been frozen and the brought back to life. Shiroma thought, then spoke. I dont see how it would be possible to. She walked back towards the steps, but Bryan laid a hand gently on her shoulder to stop her. Because. I have a feeling about this. For some reason, he felt that this truly would work. She turned around and looked into his face. For some strange reason, so do I. She thought for a moment, her mind accepting this concept a bit more. Well need to get Cassian and- Taft interrupted her. No. He doesnt want Cassian there. Only you, me, and Hailey. He watched her as she thought for a moment, then turned to go up to her room to get dressed. Ill be right down. Call Hailey now and hell get the lab ready for us. She disappeared at the top into her room, and Taft picked up the phone. Hey, Micheal? Yeah, I know its late, but youre not gonna believe this but....
Hailey trudged through his house, finally awake after the call from Taft. *That guys gotta be nuts,* he complained to himself, finding his keys and heading to the garage. He got into the car, heading for the estate where they were keeping Edwards body. He continued to gripe as he pulled up to the gate, stopping to verify his ID with the guards that seemed just as sleepy as he did. What are you doing here so late, Agent Hailey, one of the guards asked. I think I left something here. Not sure, though. If it is, Dr. Shiroma and Dr. Taft will be here shortly, he lied. *Hopefully they wont alert Cassian.* He pulled into the large garage that was provided for the workers. He entered the medical facility, blinking as the bright lights flickered on. He pulled on a bio-hazard suit, not sure to expect what Taft and Shiroma were going to do exactly. He stood next to the cold-drawer where they were keeping Edwards body, not sure why it was still here. He opened it, preparing himself mentally for what they were about to attempt. *Just go along with them. They both seem fairly sure of themselves.* Just as he finished moving the body, he looked up to see Taft and Shiroma enter the decontamination room, Shiroma handing Taft a suit. Hailey laughed slightly as Taft grimaced just at the thought of having to put one on. Cmon, Taft. They arent that bad, Hailey teased him. Shiroma exchanged a few words with him, and after that, he seemed to accept the suit and put it on with no further words. He waited a moment while Taft and Shiroma made their way into the lab. Okay, what should we do first? Taft asked, looking at several files that laid on one of the tables next to Edwards body. I dont know. Youre the one with the idea, Shiroma stated, shivering at the sight of Marcases lifeless body. *I wonder if hes in here now,* she wondered. She walked over to a cabinet where they kept all of the medical equipment. She opened it and pulled out an EKG monitor, paddles, and several other instuments. She turned around and set them in their appropriate places while Taft read over some of the files and Hailey sat off to the side, not knowing what to do. Taft stopped reading the files and set them down. Um, let me think, Taft replied, going into deep thought. Shiroma tried her hardest not to let her jaw drop, although she rolled her eyes. *My God! Cassian actually hired this guy?* She turned her head to not let her eyes fall upon Marcases lifeless body. Bryan, when you do come up with something, will you let me know? she remarked sarcastically as she turned and headed for the decon room.
Marcase looked wearily about the room, exhausted from the strenuous and tedious concentrating he had to do in order to communicate. *Brilliant, Edward. Why didnt you think of that earlier?* he scolded himself, remembering the incedent with Kimberlys dreams. Then he began to brand Taft for being so stupid as to not have figured out how to go about this, then Kim for not contributing. He braced himself for what he was about to do. Standing in front of Taft, he took a deep breath and stepped staight into him. They both gasped at the sudden chilling sensation that lingered for what seemed forever. Marcase cleared his thoughts, focusing on what he wanted Taft to try and do. Taft jerked away slightly, but not avoiding the inevitable flood of thoughts. Withing a few seconds, he knew what Marcase wanted to do.
The phone rang on the nightstand next to Cassians bed, disturbing him from his light sleep. Cassian, he answered groggily, greeted by an equally drowsy Newland. Cassian, would you mind telling me what the hell your people are doing at the medical facility at three in the morning?What? Cassian asked, not sure he was believing what he was hearing. What do you mean? Theyre there? I had one of the security guards call me to ask what was going on, as well as someone monitoring the compounds facilities. I want you down there to see what theyre doing. Fine, Cassian replied grudgingly, clicking the flash button over to the other line, then proceeded to hit a speed-dial button. He waited as twelve rings went by, then tried the next number. After unsucessfully getting someone to pick-up, he pulled himself out from under the blankets and dressed hiself before leaving for the compound.
Shouting had became a sudden normal in the operating room of the compound. Taft and Shiroma were busy shouting commands to eachother, while Hailey ran from one side of the room to the other, retrieving what they were demanding. After injecting several vials directly into the heart of Marcases body, Taft paused momentarily, only to begin working again. Okay, I think were ready to give this another shot, Taft said as he picked up the paddles to the defibrillatior, rubbing them together to make sure there was still lubricant on them. Take it up 100 more, he instructed Shiroma. Alright, charging 360. She pressed a button, listening for the whine of it charging. Clear! Taft called out, placing the paddles on Marcases chest. Pressing the buttons on the handles, he watched as the body jolted from the shock, the EKG monitor blipping momentarily, then returning to a steady whine. Again! he called out, repeating the process. After he was finished, he was jerked away by Hailey. Bryan, dont you see this isnt going to work? Its time that you stop. Without warning, the large man was suddenly thrown off balance and stumbled to the floor. He looked around, and saw no one but Taft and Shiroma.
Marcase felt an intense pain rip through his body, sending him reeling to the floor. He yelled out, knowing that no one would hear him. He opened his eyes only to see a bright flash, making him close them again immediately. He cautiously opened his eyes again, relieved to not see the same light. He managed to pull himself to all fours, the his knees, and finally teetering in a standing postion. Just as he managed to nearly recover his balance, another, more intense, jolt rocked him. He doubled up on the floor, curling up as tightly as he could to try and subside the pain. He waited for another, but none came. He again managed to pull himself to the semi-standing position, only to see Hailey taling to Taft. He listened and was immediately infuriated. You son of a bitch! he screamed as he swung him fist at Hailey, using all of his body to put as much force as he could into it. He was instantly startled as the touch of hitting Hailey was almost solid. He caught himself as he fell by bracing himself against the table, causing it to quiver slightly. Looking to Hailey, he saw the man sitting up on the floor, completely confused. *We have to keep trying,* he thought, willing it so that the other three in the room could hear him.
Cassian pulled up to the guard house outside the gates of the compound, waiting for one of the men on duty to check his ID. Good morning, Dr. Cassian, the young man said as he held up the palm scanner for Cassian to place his hand on. I guess it is, isnt it? he replied, rubbing the lingering sleep out of his eyes. The panel beeped, then allowing the gate to open to let him pass. By the way, who was the first to enter here? Agent Hailey was, sir, but he said he thought he had left something here. Then he also mentioned that Dr.s Shiroma and Taft might be in sooner, and they were. Thank you, Cassian said, pulling onto the grounds of the compound. After pulling into the spacious garage, he noticed there were four other cars there; one belonging to each of the guards, Haileys, and Tafts rental car. He looked around a bit, not seeing anyone else around, when he heard shouting from inside. He took off in a slow jog in the direction of the commotion, quickening as it grew in volume, then cease. *What the hells going on in there?* he asked himself. He stopped only to check his ID once more before entering the main building.
Taft looked up suddenly as the EKG monitor bleeped at him. Weve got minor response! he shouted, bringing Shiroma quickly to his side. Within moments, it went dead again. I think this is a good sign, he said, looking up to her. Bryan, we still dont know if there will be brain damage, she informed him, gaining confidence for thier success. "Well, we can find out soon. I think there are enough drugs in him to try this again. I want it charged at 500." Without question, Shiroma comlied. After hearing the device signal, he called out Clear! and pressed the buttons on both the paddles. Both were startled as the EKG continued a shallow, erratic heart beat. Within seconds, Edwards body began coughing, then ceased as so did the monitor.
Marcase screamed in agony at the pain that was tearing him apart inside. It receded for a moment, followed by a familiar sensation. He was breathing! But as quickly as it came, it left, returning the original pain. Nearly too exhausted to, he pulled himself to his feet. We almost had him, Taft commented. *What do you mean, you almost had me?* Marcase thought. I think we can get this, Kimberly, Taft added. When he got no response, he looked up to her. Her eyes stared at Edwards body in disbelief. Kimberly? Huh? What? she said, jumping out of her reverie. I said, I think we can get this. Shiroma nodded in agreement. Alright. Ill reposition the respirator tube. Good. I want the paddles charged at 560 this time. Shiroma simply reached over and hit a button. You ready? Shiroma nodded. Edward braced himself as best he could, awaiting the unmerciful pain. He screamed briefly, then blacked out.
Cassian strode down the stairs into the complex, no longer hurrying. *Wonder what their exuse is going to be,* he grumbled to himself. He stopped in the decon room, noting that three of the suits were missing. He made a quick assumption and donned one himself. After that, he entered the observation bay, checking the panels, then looking out the window. He noted Taft and Shiroma hovering over one of the tables, not sure at first of what they were doing. *What the hell are the doing?* he asked himself, the realzation of their actions suddenly hitting him. Not bothering with the set of four steps into the medical area, he stopped dead in his tracks as he saw the body of Edward Marcase, sitting upright, fully concious and aware. Completely astounded, he asked, Would someone care to explain to me what *exactly* is going on?