Chapter 10: Secret Comrades

You Never Know What They're Up To

Bandaging up Will's face, Janice shift the first-aid kit in her lap. They were seated inside the Atlantic City police department waiting for an ambulance for Will's leg, Gregory on other hand was up and about walking in circles.

"Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!" Gregory was biting his flat fingernails. "Where is Vladimir?"

"Ugh, I'm sure he's fine so, calm down." Janice used an alcohol wipe above Will's right brow. "And you, quiet moving." She grabbed Will's face as he backed away from the alcohol burn.

"Stop using those on me." Will hiss. "Isn't there anything else to use?"

"Do you want me to throw the empty bottle of hydrogen peroxide at you face?" she threaten.

"Are you not the least bit worried about your father?" Gregory slouched next to her.

Janice pressed her lips together, smoothing the last bandage on Will's face, a sigh released from her breath. Closing the kit, she looked at Gregory's worried face. "Maybe just a little bit." A crash was heard in the station's front doors.

"Is that Vlad Masters?"

"You mean the rich guy from Wisconsin?"

"I can't tell, he's too badly damaged."

"Call the ambulance!"

"Wasn't the ambulance suppose be here for that guy's leg?"

Janice and Gregory staggered to the front of the station, leaving cripple Will behind, to see Vlad beaten up and his golfing clothes torn.

"The lord's son," Janice breathed.

"Vladimir," Gregory choked.

Vlad's body staggered up on his knees, looking up, he's beaten face became more visible. "You would think that your everyday corpse would be buried six feet underground, not walking on and about like some Hollywood movie scene." He toppled backwards onto the floor.

"Vladimir, get a hold of yourself!" Gregory slammed his knees down gripping whatever was left of Vlad's shirt. Janice was in the background, covering her mouth to keep from laughing.

"Sir, be careful." One of the officers around called, "He could have internal bleeding, I would advise not to move him."

"But I simply can't leave him on the ground like this." Gregory's voice cracked. "Janice he's your father, do something."

Many officers blinked in confusion.

"Father?"

Janice bit the inside of her cheek as all the cops started whispering, today was not her day. She would always get a sick feeling in her stomach when people would call Vlad her 'father,' she just couldn't stand it. One of these days she might end up throwing up, all because of that stupid word. The sirens of the ambulance drowned out her thoughts, they took Vlad and Will.

Biting the tips of his fingers, Gregory stared at the ground with a worried expression. Janice was blankly staring at the ceiling, she was recently attacked by reporters who quickly heard about Vlad's daughter.-Also he's injuries, but juicy gossip was more important to them-. The hospitals waiting room was large, and already full to the brim with zombie victims. Janice looked at people who were huddled in a corner crying about turning zombies themselves, showing off their zombie bite marks. Snorting, she tilted her head where she could see Gregory worry to the max, and the reporters being held back by police officers.

"Attention," A female voice sounded over the loud speaker, "would the father of, William Smith Comrade, please come to room 234 C."

Gregory looked at Janice, "Will you be joining me?"

Janice shook her slowly, "No," she went back to staring at the zombie victims.

Gregory nodded, slowly standing up he strutted over to the elevator pressing for floor C. Pulling out a piece of leather from the front pocket of his trews, he closely examined the glowing sapphire symbols embedded in the hide. Turning it over in his hands, he pressed his lips in a thin line, face expressionless. As the doors dinged opened he thrust the item back into his pocket, walking out he searched for his son's room.

Finding said room, he opened the door to see Will drugged, leg hoisted up in cast, and in a hospital gown a size too big. Gregory snorted, then full out started laughing. Will glared, or at least tried to, his eyebrows kept slanting in the wrong direction.

"Forgive me, forgive me," Gregory wiped his tears and closed the door behind him. "But you look downright ridicules."

"Forget it," Will slurred, "at least she isn't here to make fun of me." he slouched against his pillows.

"Oh?" Gregory sat down in the chair next to the bed. "Who is this 'she'? If I might ask."

"No one," Will sat up staggering, "it's not important."

The corners of Gregory's mouth twitched, his son couldn't hide that blush that was forming a while ago, then his face darkened. "Can I ask, did those zombies look familiar to you?" He took out the leather, it wasn't glowing brightly as before.

"Is that?" Will's eye's widen. "But that looks like, it's only a painting!"

Gregory licked his upper lip, "I'm not too sure about that anymore."

Will huffed, "What, do you actually think that painting came to life?" He raised his arms. "They came out of a broom closet, not our house!"

"I know," he sadly looked at his son, "but, didn't you notice how they seemed interested in Janice? How a ghost suddenly comes in to the rescue? What if it's ghost related and Janice is a victim of a, a haunted painting we own!"

"No," Will gripped the sheets under him, "that doesn't make any sense. And what about the painting being haunted?" He growled at his father.

"Well," Gregory nervously laughed, "it's more cursed than haunted."

"Are you telling me that we own a cursed painting?" Will stared at his father.

"I don't know," Gregory folded his hands nervously, "it was your mother's purchase , not mine."