Sighing, he stepped forward to meet the party of six lighting from the train at its station. He immediately recognized Allan Quatermain in the front. Watson had encountered Quatermain on several of his African expeditions. He enthusiastically clasped hands with the also-gray explorer before taking a cursory observation of Quatermain's companions. Watson attempted to use the talents his old mentor, Sherlock Holmes, had trained him in, but was able to come up with nothing striking. Until he noticed Skinner, a man with off-white skin showing on his face and hands, and everywhere else covered in black clothing and dark glasses. There was something incomplete about Skinner's appearance that caused Watson to momentarily reel back, though Watson quickly caught himself. He had seen much stranger things. The Hound of the Baskervilles, for one.
"I'm so glad you could make it," said Watson. He stepped towards the one lady in the group. "May I help you with your bags?"
"Thank you, doctor," said Mina. "But that won't be necessary."
"There are many vacancies at my hotel," said Watson. "You should have no trouble making arrangements."
"We'll worry about that later," said Quatermain. "Is there a place we can sit and talk?"
Alcohol hung in the air and loud music and shouting provided background as Watson and the League members took their seats at a rather large, round, wooden table.
"Not a very sophisticated spot," apologized Watson, "but I'm afraid it's the only easily accessible place in town that will provide seating for seven people."
"Are there any new developments since the letter you sent me?" asked Quatermain.
"I'm afraid not," said Watson. "I have tried to conduct an investigation the way Sherlock Holmes taught me, but I am afraid I will never be able to succeed as he did." Sadness filled Watson's eyes at the memory of the master detective, whose death he had witnessed at Reichenbach Falls.
"Mycroft sends his regards," Quatermain said gently.
"Very decent of him," Watson replied.
"What steps have you taken in your investigation?" said Tom Sawyer. Watson shook his head.
"I haven't been able to do much," he said. "I talked to the surviving family members of the dead and missing. The ones that would talk. Those that witnessed the murders gave frighteningly detailed descriptions of the attackers. The details varied wildly from person to person, yet they all were strikingly similar. Bizarre creatures, in the shape of man but not quite human. All bearing the look of decay and death."
"And what do you think about these descriptions?" asked Sawyer.
"I don't know what to think," said Watson. "I've never seen one of these creatures for myself. I have only the descriptions from others. But, Holmes always told me, 'When the impossible is eliminated, whatever remaining, no matter how improbable, must be true.'"
"What's the impossible?"
"I don't know anymore," sighed Watson. "There is one item I did not mention in the letter. It concerns the disappearance of a friend and colleague of mine."
"A violent disappearance?" asked Sawyer.
"Not at all," said Watson. "Simply a fading into obscurity. About a month before the disappearances of bodies from the cemeteries and morgues, there was a disappearance of a science student. Victor Frankenstein was a young pupil of mine. He was a bright boy and a very enthusiastic learner. He was a bit of a free-spirited thinker, though. He was especially open- minded to the theories of the early alchemists. He was studying at a university in Ingolstadt. Never missed a single lesson. He then simply stopped appearing."
"I know what that's like," muttered Skinner. Watson looked at him curiously.
"You believe there's a connection between Frankenstein's disappearance and these other strange events?" asked Sawyer, quickly changing the subject.
"I can't be certain," said Watson. "There's no real evidence to prove a link. I'm sure if you talk with the police, they will be much more help to you than I could ever be. I am willing to assist you, however, in whatever way I can."
"Thank you, Dr. Watson," said Mina. "We'd be glad to accept any help you can give us."
> > > > > >
"What makes you think we need your cooperation?" asked Detective Schwartz when he was approached by Allan Quatermain. "On what authority are you here?"
"Inspector Quatermain, Scotland Yard," said Quatermain.
"Our German affairs can be of no interest to Scotland Yard, Inspector," insisted Schwartz.
"On the contrary," argued Quatermain, "we are very afraid the magnitude of this mystery could reach England."
"Your fear is unfounded," said Schwartz. "We Germans have this matter quite under control."
"Then can you provide a name of a suspect?" asked Quatermain. Schwarts grimaced.
"That is of no concern to you," he responded sourly.
"I only wish to review the facts of the case," said Quatermain.
"You are outside of your range of authority," argued Schwartz. "Thank you for your offer, but no thank you after all."
"It is more than an offer," came a woman's voice. "It is an order. I'm Inspector Harker of Scotland Yard, and I'm leading the English side of this investigation."
"But you are...," began Schwartz.
"A specialist," interrupted Mina firmly. "The first of a new line of detectives, for Scotland Yard and for the rest of the world. It's a new place of power for women, and if you will not respect Inspector Quatermain's authority, I'm quite certain you will respect mine."
"Yes, ma'am," said Schwartz, obviously flustered by Mina's speech. "This way, please."
As Schwartz lead the two to his office, Quatermain whispered to Mina, "I thought I told you to stay back with the rest. I can handle this."
"It seems to me you could use some help," said Mina, softly but levelly. Quatermain looked at the air of power in Mina's face. He liked to think he had the ability to exert authority and leadership over others, but he could never have the natural powers of confidence and control Mina possessed.
"Late at night, a body was stolen from one of our morgues," said Schwartz. "Others followed on different nights. First, one at a time. Then, slowly, the amount grew. Soon, several morgues were being invaded at the same time. Officers Guhber and Olaf were in charge of the investigation to solve the disappearances. Their idea was to hide in one of the morgues and wait for the invaders to strike. Unfortunately, they soon joined the other corpses there."
"How were they murdered?" asked Mina.
"Strangulation," said Schwartz. "The marks suggest human hands. The morgue robberies stopped then, but the kidnappings started. Husbands, wives, and children, taken from their own homes. Then Mr. Harold Fumer woke up to find his wife, Amelia, being dragged away. He claims he was able to scare off the attackers, but Amelia Fumer was already dead. Strangulation. Soon, more reports came in of men and women who arrived in time to frighten the murderers, but very rarely in time to save their loved ones."
"You believe there is a connection between the invasions in the morgues and these kidnappings and murders?" asked Mina.
"Certainly," said Schwartz. "We found the same black marks on all of these victims as we did on the necks of Guhber and Olaf. All suggest large, misshapen, human hands. Also, we found different pieces of decaying cloth at the scenes of the morgue robberies, kidnappings, and murders."
"Were Fumer and the others who witnessed the attacks able to identify the attackers?" asked Quatermain.
"Hardly," said Schwartz. "They've all gone mad. They claim the criminals responsible were not human. That they were the undead." He laughed, though neither Mina nor Quatermain found it funny.
"Is it usual for mad men to all suggest the same hallucination?" asked Mina.
"Quite," said Schwartz. "The power of suggestion. One of these lunatics thinks that his family has been killed by zombies, they all do."
"What about Dr. Watson?" asked Quatermain. "Have you looked into any of his theories regarding the case?"
"That quack!" sneered Schwartz. "Police work is certainly not his business."
"Then you don't believe this case has anything to do with the disappearance of Victor Frankenstein?"
"Certainly not," said Schwartz. "There is nothing strange surrounding the disappearance of Victor Frankenstein. He is merely a university drop-out. This happens all the time."
"We have no further questions, Detective," said Mina.
> > > > > >
Mina and Quatermain recounted the details of their investigation to the rest of the League.
"What's our next step?" asked Sawyer.
"I think Guhber and Olaf had the right idea," said Mina.
"Except, the morgues are no longer the place to expect our adversaries' next move," said Quatermain. "We will need to patrol all of the streets."
"Right idea?" said Sawyer. "Guhber and Olaf? But they're both dead!"
"We do have an advantage," said Quatermain. "There are those among us less likely to be discovered." All eyes turned to one man.
"Why's everyone looking at me?" whined Skinner.
> > > > > >
It was cold that night. That was Skinner's excuse for shivering. Not that anyone could see him shivering. One fact kept running through Skinner's head. Just because nobody could see him, that did not mean nobody could harm him.
Skinner looked towards the sky and watched as a flock of bats passed under the moonlight. He felt comforted knowing Mina was also on patrol that night.
A few moments passed of just waiting. Skinner was about to doze off when he was aware of a crashing sound. Looking up, he noticed several odd figures pulling on a locked door. The door finally burst out of its hinges. Skinner rushed forward.
Two were heading through the door, only to be stopped by Skinner's grip on their shoulders. Peering over their shoulders, the creatures appeared puzzled.
Skinner finally had a good look at them. It was terrifying. Their bodies were uneven, as though limbs and features had just randomly been weaved slovenly together. Their skin was various pale shades of gray, white, and yellow. The clothes that covered their bodies were torn and decaying.
The other monsters tried to push through the other two into the door and failed. Skinner rapidly jerked the creatures he was holding back, causing the entire crowd to topple. The monsters began to claw and kick at the air, unable to see their opponent.
One of the creatures managed to gain a grip on Skinner's leg as he flailed. The invisible man was pulled to the ground. The monsters marched towards the door again, some managing to trample Skinner. Pulling himself up, Skinner quickly brought his elbow down on the first monster he saw. The creature cried in pain. Skinner then proceeded to swing out his arms, hitting two more of the creatures. The monsters howled and trembled. Skinner quickly planted punches on the injured beasts. Still moaning and trembling, the monsters backed away from the doorway and retreated into the darkness.
> > > > > >
Skinner recounted his adventure to Dr. Watson and the rest of the League the next morning.
"The zombies are real, then?" said Mina.
"I don't believe it," said Sawyer.
"I'm telling you," insisted Skinner, "I saw them with my own eyes."
"Tell me more about the island you mentioned in your letter, Dr. Watson," said Quatermain.
"There's not much to tell," said Watson. "It's uninhabited. Too small and too rustic to do anything with."
"Yet you feel certain there is a connection between the island and these zombies," said Mina.
"It started as rumor," said Watson. "People have been telling legends about that island for many years now. Once these killings began, it was automatically mentioned that the strange creatures were coming from the island. I thought nothing of it, until daring souls tried to explore the island for themselves. Two men and a young girl disappeared. One man, Mr. Zachary Schultz, was found in his row-boat, which had drifted on to shore. He had been strangled to death."
"We've done all we can here," said Quatermain. "It's that island I'm interested in now."
"But everyone who appears on the surface of that water vanishes!" said Watson.
Quatermain looked over at Captain Nemo.
"Then we must travel under the surface," said Captain Nemo.