Chapter 2
Disclaimer: Nothing's mine, but an OC or two…
Dr. Hook rubbed his eyes tiredly and sighed. It had been a bad day. One of the worst since-
Since the gatekeeper of the dead took over our hospital and turned it into a freakshow.
He snorted and shook his head. He still couldn't get his brain around it. After all of the excitement, he'd taken a very long vacation, more to think than to rest. He even considered transferring to another hospital, one far from Lewiston, but upon thinking about it some more, he realized he couldn't imagine himself working anywhere else. He'd found his happy little rut, and he wasn't going to let a couple dysfunctional spooks run him out of it. Plus, he'd miss Chris.
He glanced over to the bed where she'd crashed hours before he'd come off his shift. She was the one normal thing in his life, and he wasn't ready to give that up just yet. And anyway, there hadn't been any supernatural goings-on for the past few months. No crucifixions and resurrections, no voices in the elevators, and most notably, no more earthquakes. The weirdest thing around here presently seemed to be Steg, and boy was he getting weird. Rushing out of surgery unexpectedly, speaking calmly one second and then glaring at you as if you had two heads the next, not to mention his sudden paranoia were the latest additions to his long list of charming qualities. Dr. Abelson's (forced) resignation seemed to help things a little bit, but…
He sighed heavily. The remarkable Dr. Stegman. If anyone needed a vacation, it was that man.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder. He smiled. Yeah, right.
Hook had suggested that to Dr. James, reporting all of his strange behavior, and arguing that a week off could be beneficial to his health. Dr. James responded by getting Steg his license back. Well, he didn't really give it back to him. The Keepers did. God knows how. Hook hadn't voted for it. Mona Klingerman's mother certainly hadn't voted for it.
Hook shrugged. "Whatever!" he groaned to himself. Now apparently wasn't the time. He'd get what was coming to him. It was out of Hook's hands how or when. He'd tried his hand at sabotage, and while it had been exceptionally fun, it really wasn't his style. When the time came, he'd be ready. His eyes fell on the graveyard- little white crosses through the beaded curtain.
So, other than Steg, everything seemed to have gone back to normal. The spirits were at peace at last. Or at the very least, sleeping…
-
It was Wednesday- Fritzie night. To say he was a regular was an understatement. You could almost set your watch by the greasy little nympho-nerd. Every Wednesday night at ten-thirty, Allen Fritz would drive up to the corner asking for Ruby Tuesday and Sexy Sadie. He always asked for both- something about The Beatles versus The Rolling Stones, which, Sadie thought, seemed strange when you tried to imagine a skinny geek with thick, black rimmed, coke-bottle glasses having any interest in either band when there were much more important things to do (like reformatting their hard-drive or catching up on the latest adventures of the Justice League).
But she wasn't being fair, she would scold herself. Everybody needed a little love sometimes, and if he wanted to continue paying for the show, then she and Ruby would be happy to keep bringing on the noise.
Are you ready to rock 'n' roll! Sadie smiled and checked her watch. Where was Ruby? Fritzie would be coming any second. He'd better be, she thought, shivering. The go-go girl costume she'd chosen wasn't the warmest thing to be wearing in April.
"Sadie!"
"Ruby, thank God."
"Not yet," Ruby said breathlessly, holding up her hand. "I got a suit waiting on me down the street."
"A suit? But what about Fritzie?"
"Oh, Sadie, please! This is a business guy- someone willing to pay me some real money. Fritzie couldn't come close to what this guy's offering me."
She sighed. "Are you seriously ditching me with this weirdo? I don't know if I can do this alone."
"Are you kidding?" Ruby grinned. "He likes The Beatles better anyway. You can handle him."
"Oh alright. Go on with your high-roller." Sadie couldn't help but smile back. Ruby's little girl smiles where just so damned infectious, as if she was years younger than sixteen (three years Sadie's junior), not that that wasn't young enough in this part of the world.
"I knew you'd understand," the little redhead beamed and disappeared around the corner.
Almost on cue, headlights appeared, and they were coming her way. She checked her watch. Ten-thirty-two. "You're slipping, sweetheart," she mumbled under her breath.
Leaning against the lamppost with a hand on her hip, she watched as the beat up Cadillac chugged up in front of her and the window rolled down. Sauntering forward, she smiled sweetly at the driver. "Fritzie, dahling," she said in her best British accent. Fritzie loved it when they used British accents.
"W-w-where's Ruby Tuesday?" he stuttered nervously. Another thing about Fritzie. He stuttered. If she cared, she might have found it endearing.
"Oooh, sadly she's come down with the mumps and won't be able to join us tonight, but we can have fun, you and I."
"Th-the mumps?" Fritzie pulled a handkerchief out of nowhere. "Did you see her?"
"With my own eyes, I did."
"Get back!" Fritzie held the handkerchief over his mouth and nose. "Don't come any closer!"
"What!"
Fritzie floored the gas pedal and Sadie had just enough time to stand back before the car took off, narrowly missing her toes. She stood there for a second, bewildered, before she realized what had happened. "What the hell's the matter with you!" she screamed after the car, her accent reverting back to her normal New York City-tinged dialect. "Think I'm contagious, huh? Never bothered you before!" She huffed exasperatedly and turned to walk away, but she saw something that stopped her.
Frankie Frankencourt. His shiny, black Mercedes glinted in the orange lamplight, and inside she could make out a figure wearing a suit, sitting and smoking a cigar. Wonderful, just what I need right now. She straightened herself out and forced a smile. She strolled over to where he sat and leaned in the window. "How's tricks, lover?"
"Just fine, cupcake." He began playing with a strand of her hair. "Rough night?" His hair was shiny, like there was too much gel or grease in it. Frankie thought he was a mobster, and liked to dress as such. Sadie found it juvenile. She regularly wondered what his real name was- probably something like Eugene or Myrtle. Maybe even Florence. He didn't impress anyone, but when he wanted to intimidate, he certainly could.
"Huh? Oh, Fritzie? Man, he'll be back next week." Her smile began to feel strained.
"Possibly."
She didn't like the way he'd said that. And she wished he'd stop playing with her hair. She hated it when Frankie touched her. She'd take any other man in the whole damned city, but when Frankie touched her, she felt utterly filthy.
"Hey, don't worry, okay? I can make it up."
"Get in."
"What?"
"Get in."
A large man, with a shaved head and a black suit identical to Frankie's, stepped out of the passenger side. She recognized him as Jono, Frankie's bodyguard, bouncer, lackey. He walked around to her side of the car and opened the door for her. His eyes were cruel and they followed her every move. "Why thank you, sir," she said sweetly, her smile more strained than ever.
"Buckle up," Frankie said, flashing a strange smile over his shoulder as he started up the car. Sadie did as he said, but noticed that the bullish character next to her did not. Guess I wouldn't either if I could get away with it, Sadie thought uneasily, trying hard not to look at him. Don't look them in the eyes. It could provoke an attack.
She didn't know where that last thought had come from, but it brought back a memory. From a dream, maybe? Yes, it was definitely a dream. And there was a-
An anteater? She shook her head and looked out the window. Where were they? The car slowed as it passed between two huge brick buildings. When it came to a stop, Sadie peeked around the driver's seat and through the windshield.
"What the hell?" she muttered and looked around. She didn't see anyone.
The headlights switched off and Frankie killed the engine. They were alone in the dark- a dark, dead end alley.
Frankie switched on the dome light and turned to face her, a disturbingly wide grin on his face. "Let's talk, love."
Sadie forced a smile, trying to keep her hands from shaking too noticeably. "What's this about, boss?" She tore her eyes away from his and glanced over at the mountain of flesh sitting next to her. He was staring at her. She shuddered.
"Do you know what it means to be in a mutual relationship?" Frankie asked in an irritatingly parental tone.
She knew, but she couldn't speak. She wondered if it would have done any good if she could.
Frankie chuckled. "No, I didn't think so. Well," he continued. Basically it means you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours. Do something for me, and I'll do something for you. Understand?"
Sadie nodded vigorously, felt she couldn't nod enough. She knew what was going on and she knew what was going to happen next. But maybe, just maybe…
"Yes sir," she said quietly.
He reached out to her arm, but she jerked it away with a gasp. "Come on, sweetheart, I'm not gonna hurt you." He grabbed her arm and pulled it toward him, fingering the dark scar gingerly. Sadie winced. "I'd say I've done quite a bit for you, huh?" He let her go.
"Oh, God, yeah. Frankie I don't know where I'd be without you," she giggled nervously. She knew exactly where she'd be, God damn it, but it was too late for that.
Frankie sighed a big superficial sigh. "Sadie, darling, I'm gonna give it to you straight. You've become a liability, always with your hand in the cookie jar," he preached, tapping her arm.
"What? What- Frankie, you can't just cut me off," she stammered desperately.
Frankie chuckled again. "Sadie, honey, I'm not cutting you off." The smile vanished from his face. "I'm cutting you out."
The first blow hit her like a ton of bricks. With a sickening crack, pain exploded in her skull and flooded her vision with red. After the second, everything went black.
To be continued…