CHAPTER NINE—Rodney Skinner

"I feel like a bloody mummy," Skinner thought to himself.

Trying to ignore the pain and itching was painful in itself, and no amount of bandages or painkillers seemed to help. Contributing further to the sense of being undead, he had been ordered to stay in his bed and to try and rest as much as possible. Skinner had always been restless, and couldn't help but giving in to the urge to get up and pace.

Focusing on Sawyer kept his mind off of the physical pain, but deepened his obsession. Neither of the doctors believed him about Sawyer. Okay, so what about Nemo? Would it do any good to talk to him? Certainly couldn't hurt to get the captain on his side. Or maybe talking to Sawyer himself would help. Then again, if he believed that Quatermain was talking to him, he might attack him again, which was definitely unprogressive. But on the up side, talking to Sawyer was most direct…and Skinner suspected that Sawyer knew, at this point, that Skinner had told Mina about his concerns.

Deciding to follow this course of action, he started down the hall (feeling a twinge of guilt at not staying on bed rest, but knowing that he wouldn't be caught), reassuring himself as he went that this was a good idea.

"He's not going to beat you up or anything," Skinner thought. "You're wounded. Besides, Sawyer wouldn't…do that. Or let him do that, if that's the case. This is far better than sneaking around behind his back. Figure this out, and just—"

His train of thought ended abruptly as he reached Sawyer's door, which suddenly seemed incredibly imposing for a plank of wood. Inside, there was no sound. No rustling, no pacing, no writing. Maybe he'd arrived on an empty room, which was hardly unlikely given Sawyer's habit of relentlessly pacing the hallways.

He knocked, confident and secretly pleased that no one was there. He didn't wait long before he nodded, not expecting an answer, and started walking away.

"Yes?" Sawyer said from inside, sounding sleepy and disgruntled.

"Shit, did I wake him up?" Skinner thought. But that was ridiculous…it was only 8:00! He toyed with the idea of running off…could he get away fast enough? Damn his visible bandages!

The door opened too quickly for one who had just been in bed, and Sawyer stood in the doorway. His voice and posture looked tired, as though he really had been sleeping, but his eyes showed a decided sharpness.

"What do you want?" Sawyer asked.

"I just…I jus' wanted to talk."

"I'm quite busy now, so unless—"

"Tom, why the 'ell are you talkin' in a British accent?"

Sawyer looked trapped for a second, as if thinking rapidly. Then, as a decision was reached: "Tom's not here. He's in Africa. He's practicing shooting. We dun have time to talk." He started to close the door. Skinner caught it and stepped into the room.

"What the 'ell is wrong with you?" he asked. "Wot's going on?"

The look on Sawyer's face suggested that he ("he" being Allan or Tom, Skinner wasn't sure) would like to hurt Skinner, or remove him by force. But, as Skinner had predicted, the vulnerability of his condition acted as a barrier instead of a weakness.

"I told you all that Africa wouldn't let me die," Quatermain said. "I meant it. I'm alive."

"You…think yor Quatermain?" Skinner asked.

"Yes."

"What didja do with Sawyer?"

"He's in Africa now. Shooting."

"Wot, like you just picked him up and—"

"Obviously not. His body's still here. He's in my mind."

Skinner thought this over for a slow minute as Sawyer continued to glare. He was hearing voices in his head? What was going on? "Let me talk to Tom," Skinner said finally.

"He's working now."

Skinner slowly backed to the door. The detached tone that Sawyer sounded exactly like Quatermain's tone. Skinner realized that he wasn't going to get anywhere or learn anything more, and decided to take his leave.

"Okay, well then, I guess I can talk to him later," Skinner mumbled, and left the room quickly, almost running down the hall, ignoring the pain until he felt sufficiently far away to slow down. It was crazy, but he could almost feel the chilling glare, through the wall, following him as he walked. The further away Skinner got from the room, the more clearheaded he felt.

What to do, then, if Quatermain had taken Sawyer hostage in his own mind, or if Sawyer had simply gone crazy? Jekyll was sick and couldn't watch him, and Mina had dismissed Skinner's suspicions outright. It was time to talk to Nemo, who had his crew, who possibly had also noticed something was amiss with Sawyer. Maybe if he had someone besides himself…

But why had Sawyer admitted everything to him, then, if he was trying to keep it a secret? Sawyer did a good job of covering it up when he was around people, but he had never warned Skinner not to say anything, and had admitted all of his irrational beliefs to him. Was he unconcerned about people believing him, even if he did talk? Did he maybe even want him to spread the news?

"Time to talk to Nemo," Skinner thought.

* * *

I do apologize for the late update and slight disarray of the chapter, as I was on vacation and did not have adequate access to a computer until today.