Chapter 1: Dunstonville

Dunstonville, Iowa. Nothing but gently undulating fields of feed corn as far as the eye could see. And yet, somehow, there was a medical clinic on the edge of town. It was too small, understaffed, and hopelessly out of date, but its isolation and unimportance made it perfect.

"Well, Doctor Philips, how about the grand tour?"

After two weeks in Iowa, Herbert West had managed to land a position at the Dunstonville Clinic under the name Howard Philips, take out a loan on a beat-up '87 Toyota, and rent a room above one of the multitudinous bars in town. He'd also managed to come to the conclusion that Iowa, or at least the part he was in, was inhabited mainly by beer-guzzling, large-bottomed, mullet-touting rednecks who tended to make remarks about his appearance and his "city accent." No, he did not wear faded AC/DC t-shirts. Was that a problem?

The young, overly ebullient nurse at the clinic who was currently beaming at him didn't seem to be quite as extreme of a specimen as many of the locals (at least, she didn't have a mullet). He attempted to smile at her as she bounced down the hall with him in tow. It wasn't easy.

"And this is Jessica, and here's Adam, and Jason--he's an intern…"

She'd been prattling on in a similar manner for about a half an hour and all Herbert really wanted to do was get to work. The waiting room had already been full of people when he'd walked in at nine o'clock, and she was demonstrating to him the intricacies of the coffeemaker. "Kelly," he said, interrupted her endless chatter, "would you mind showing me my office?"

She actually shut up for a split second before saying, "Yeah, sure! But wait, I'll introduce you to Dan first, he's one of the other doctors."

Herbert resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. One would think the girl would have figured out by now that he didn't want to socialize with any of his coworkers. Nevertheless, she led him into an office, where a tall man was scribbling on a clipboard. Herbert glanced perfunctorily at him as he mumbled, "Hang on a minute," did a double take, and looked again. He couldn't help it--his eyes widened and his jaw dropped, and he barely slapped his calm exterior back on his face as the man extended a hand, looked up from the clipboard, and began, "Hi, I'm Dan Ca--"

The two men stared at each other for several incredibly long, tense moments. Herbert darted his eyes at Kelly, who was beginning to look very confused and a little worried. Not good. It would do to have her repeating this story to anyone. Herbert knew what he had to do.

Grasping Dan's hand and shaking it firmly, Herbert said, "Doctor Howard Philips. I'm afraid I didn't quite catch your name?" Hm, there was a ring on his finger. Was he married?

Dan gaped for a couple more seconds before choking out, "Cain. Doctor Cain."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Doctor Cain," Herbert returned, pulling out a smile that was, at best, sardonic.

There was a definite note of barely suppressed hysteria in Dan's voice as he replied, "Yeah. You too. Um. I have a patient."

"Of course you do," Herbert agreed, "And I should really be getting to work as well. Kelly?" With that, he spun on his heel and left the room, with Kelly right behind him.

"That was kind of weird," she remarked. Well, at least she was forthright. "Do you two know each other?"

Herbert raised his eyebrows. "I've never met Doctor Cain. And I fail to see the strangeness in our introduction."

"Huh. Anyway! Here's your office, Doctor Philips, room eighty-five. You're supposed to use today to get to know the place and our routine."

"I'll do that." He stepped into the room and surveyed it. Adequate. "Thank you, Kelly, you've been most helpful."

"Sure!" Kelly gave him a bright smile and, at long last, left.

With a long-suffering sigh, Herbert quietly closed the door and sat down to gather himself.

Daniel Cain was a doctor at this clinic. Daniel Cain, on whom he'd wasted precious time and energy to try and make him understand the importance of the reanimation research. Daniel Cain, his former partner, who had happily testified against him in court, helping to give him a life sentence in prison. He was somehow, out of every place on the planet, working two doors down from Herbert in Dunstonville, Iowa.

Herbert took his glasses off and rubbed at his eyes. If there was one thing that could bring his plans crashing down, it was Dan Cain. He wondered how long it would take the staff at the clinic to find out that his name wasn't Howard Philips.

He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath to calm himself. He was not going to go back to prison. He would--somehow--find a way to take control of this situation, or, barring that, exit it. Gracefully, of course. But he couldn't sit in this room all day. So, replacing his glasses, he slipped on his lab coat and stepped out into the hallway.

With a little finagling at the front desk, he managed to convince the secretary that he was quite ready to see patients (why she should be in control of his, he couldn't quite fathom), and the day passed rapidly amidst a series of minor injuries and illnesses. After the clinic closed, he stayed late exploring, until, around nine, he stepped out into the parking lot, fumbling in his pocket for the keys to his car.

"Herbert."

He wheeled around and noticed Dan standing in the shadows. "Yes?" he asked blandly.

To his utter amazement, Dan charged him and had him pressed up against the wall, fist raised threateningly, in about three seconds. "What the hell are you doing here?!" he growled.

Herbert briefly entertained the idea of fighting back and just as quickly dismissed it. Thirteen years in a maximum security prison had certainly given him the ability (and often a reason) to inflict pain, but he didn't want to show his hand just yet. Let Dan think he was in control. For now.

He swallowed awkwardly and said, "Really, Dan, let's be civil. It's a bit difficult to speak with you strangling me."

Dan hesitantly let go of him and stood there, eyes smoldering. "What do you want, Herbert? Why are you here?"

Herbert nearly laughed. Was it possible that he thought Herbert had tracked him down for revenge? How delightfully egotistical of him. Keeping his thoughts to himself, however, he answered carefully, "I'm just working. I had no idea you were here."

Dan narrowed his eyes. Apparently the truth was too good to be true. "What's with the fake name? And aren't you supposed to be in jail for life?"

"Parole," Herbert answered, a smug smile beginning to creep onto his face. The committee was very impressed with my excellent behavior."

"I heard there was some riot at Arkham Maximum Security. Your parole wouldn't have anything to do with that, would it?"

"Oh no," Herbert answered, still smiling slightly. "Tragic, that. But I'd already been out for six months."

"Like hell you had. I should turn you in. In fact--"

"Daniel," Herbert began very casually, "how long have you been married?"

Dan's eyes bulged a little. "You--"

"I imagine you have children by now. How old are they? Ten? Eleven, perhaps?"

"Are you threatening me?" Dan hissed.

"'Threatening' is such a strong word." Herbert raised his eyebrows and stared levelly at his former partner before quietly unclasping his briefcase and reaching inside. "You know, while I was in prison, I was very productive. Makes my earlier research look primitive by comparison. There was an unintended result of my work, though." His hand closed around the cool glass of a syringe and he slowly removed it, holding it in front of his face thoughtfully. The green glow of the reagent reflected off his glasses as he went on, "An overdose of this on a living subject is extremely interesting. A bit gory, but fascinating nonetheless."

Taking a step towards Herbert, Dan said, "Stay away from my family, West, or I swear, I'll--"

Herbert pointed the needle at Dan's face and the other man stopped short. "Or you'll what?" His tone grew hard as he continued, "You will only acknowledge me as Howard Philips and you are not going to tell anyone what you know about me." He moved closer to Dan, bringing the needle within inches of his face and added in a low tone, "You destroyed my life once, Dan, but I'm a very hard man to crush. Don't try to do it again."

"I'm not afraid of you," Dan said in a steely tone.

"No?" Herbert chuckled a little. "I've always found courage to be an overrated concept." In one rapid motion, he pulled the syringe away from Dan and stowed it back in his briefcase. "Go home to your family, Daniel. All I want from you is to be left alone. I don't need you to continue my work, despite whatever self-important delusions you may have."

Herbert attempted to step around Dan, but the other man stopped him with a hand on his arm. "You're not still going to do your research?"

Herbert flicked his eyes towards the hand on his arm, tried to shrug out of Dan's grip, and when he was unsuccessful, pressed his lips together and answered, "Of course I am. I'll continue with my research until I've perfected it."

"You're insane! You can't set your "results" loose in Dunstonville!"

At that, Herbert wrenched his arm away, but instead of responding, he only repeated, "Go home. And consider yourself lucky that I'm not more vengeful." Without giving Dan the chance to speak, he strode away and slid into his car. Cars. How he hated cars. But this town was too pathetic for public transportation. Come to think of it, though, he hated Dan more than he hated cars. Herbert still couldn't believe that he'd had the audacity--never mind the spine--to testify against him. How could he? After all Herbert had done for him! He'd turned Dan into a scientist--well, tried to, anyway. He'd trusted him. He'd even…even liked him. Since Herbert could count on one hand the people in his life whom he'd genuinely cared for (and his immediate family wasn't included), it made the betrayal hurt even more.

Yes, that was the problem, wasn't it? That day in the courthouse when Dan had taken the witness stand for the prosecution and Herbert had nearly lost control of his carefully suppressed emotions--it wasn't because Dan was turning his back on the work, it was because he was turning on his friend. At least, Herbert had thought they were friends. The pain of Dan's testimony had taken him completely by surprise, so much so that his eyes had actually stung before he'd clamped them shut. Dan had just stood there and proclaimed his criminality, his psychosis, and his utter insanity to the world.

All right, so that was fine. Dan had wounded him horribly and he'd never recover from it. Fine. But he'd just realized something even worse. He didn't hate Dan. Oh, he was mad at him--he'd been mad at him for thirteen years. There would be no revenge, though. The thought had never even crossed his mind.

Another realization--he was shaking. Dammit. He drew several deep breaths and started the car. How long had he been sitting here? Five minutes? He checked his watch. Yep. Was Dan still standing there? Hm. Yes. Why? Did he need a ride? There wasn't another car in the parking lot. Well, Herbert wasn't going to offer. He was perfectly content to let Dan think he despised him and had murderous intentions towards his family. That should keep him from doing anything noble, like turning him into the police.

Herbert heaved a sigh as he turned out of the parking lot and headed back to his apartment. He'd come to this godforsaken place in the middle of nowhere to make life less complicated. So why was it that simplicity seemed suddenly to have vanished?