"Welcome back, ma'am."
Miss Pauling shook her head. What a couple of saps. Both the Engineer and the Sniper had removed their hats, like they had met someone important or were at a wake. She had a strange feeling in her hip, like she'd slept on it wrong and it had gone numb. She was surprised to find her wound had been healed, a small white moon left after the fact. Swinging her legs off the side of the fold-out couch, she readjusted her glasses and regained her professional composure. There was nothing she could do about her mussed hairdo, however.
"How long was I out?" Miss Pauling asked.
The Engineer grabbed the Sniper by his left wrist, reading his watch. "Oh, maybe fifteen minutes. Not long at all."
"Do ya mind?" The Sniper wriggled his wrist free. "Feelin' okay?"
Miss Pauling nodded. "I'm a little lightheaded at the moment."
"That'll pass in due time." The Engineer patted her on the shoulder. He turned to the Sniper. "Suppose we should get goin', pardner?"
"Hold on. Where do you think you are going?" Miss Pauling wobbled off the fold-out couch. Her brain felt like it was floating a foot above her skull. There was a pungent juniper stench emanating from a bottle placed on a nearby cabinet. It was one of the Medic's gel bottles. The odor and her blood loss were culminating into one dizzying fog wrapping around her cerebrum.
The Sniper straightened himself. "Gotta go back. Left the fight unfinished."
Miss Pauling crossed her arms, smiling. "Let me guess. You two were going to leave me to rest here."
Both men went red from embarrassment. There was a nervous bit of coughing, neither knowing what to say. The Engineer tried stammering a response. "We-well, it-it's not like we didn't think ya couldn't handle it, Miss Pauling, but—"
"—We haven't found the Medic yet, but we got plum lucky with the supplies in the doc's van. Still—" The Sniper tried continuing the Engineer's thoughts, but his tongue stopped up.
The few seconds that the Sniper had bought for the Engineer's speech wasn't even close enough to the time that he needed to solidify his thoughts. "—And that robot made me like Swiss cheese. I don't know how ya managed to only get shot once, but the Administrator will kill us for good if, well, ya know—"He blushed again, unable to find the right words. It was hard to say what he wanted without sounding coddling or sexist.
Lucky for both of them, Miss Pauling was good at putting together context clues. "So, let me get this straight. You two want me to stare here and rest up while you go on ahead and finish off whatever you left in the conservatory?"
They nodded in agreement, shrinking at her analysis.
She continued on, her case becoming less about winning a dispute and more about having fun. "Gentlemen, tonight I've killed a human abomination, ran from zombies, killed said zombies with our mutual Russian friend, got in a fight with a werewolf, ran from a robot, hacked through a man-eating plant, and was shot. At this point, I doubt a couple inches of tin are going to keep me safe."
"Oy!" The Sniper took offense to Miss Pauling belittling his home. "It's probably three inches thick, at least."
Miss Pauling smiled. She patted both of them on the shoulder. "You'll just have to watch my back, won't you?"
The Sniper snapped his fingers. "Sure thing." He dug around in the overhead compartment of his van, kicking up dust as he explored. The Engineer and Miss Pauling watched him, both amused with his rummaging. He'd hauled himself halfway off the ground and into the compartment before he found the item he was searching for. With a backwards shimmy, he pulled out what Miss Pauling thought was a decoration. It had a sturdy frame, a crocodile's hide stretched across the back of it. A leather belt looped around the front, buckled together around the upper part of the band. Strangest of all, a small bird's skull dangled from the lower portion of the belt.
"Good God, Mundy." The Engineer shook his head. "I thought ya got rid 'a that forsaken thing."
The Sniper gave the Engineer a cross glance. "Now, why would I do that? Just 'cause I don't go usin' it every day doesn't mean I have to trash it." He turned to Miss Pauling. "Mitts up, if ya would."
Miss Pauling suppressed her laughter as much as she could. The Sniper slipped the object around her, locking the belt at her left shoulder. The shield wasn't heavy at all, and the hide at her back was comfortable, in an odd way. At this point, it was more about soothing their neurotic worries. Sure, the bird's skull was still weird, but she had to admit to feeling slightly more protected with whatever the hell this thing was resting against her spine.
"Thank you." Miss Pauling braced one hand against the shield's strap. "Now, may we get back to work?"
"Sure. Assumin', of course, Mundy doesn't have anything else he wishes to share." The Engineer shook his head, still embarrassed about the Sniper's offering. At least he hadn't broken out the mason jars. There was a difference between being as prepared as a Boy Scout and being a batty hoarder.
The Sniper sighed, disappointed with himself. "'Friad I took everything else inside."
"Well then. We'll just have to go find it." Miss Pauling stepped out the back of the van. Even with the storm billowing around them and monsters still to be dealt with, she felt invincible.
Now if she could only get the others to be as confident.
Perhaps the Soldier wasn't the world's best improviser. He made damn good with what he could do.
His map of the manor was filling in nicely. The Heavy had given him information about the buildings surrounding the complex. It was mostly barns, but there was a chapel and a graveyard close at hand. The Demoman had briefed him on the cellar and the stairwell he'd used to get to the lobby, also giving him the position of the kitchen and the dining room. The Medic was only able to give him the location of the study, but considering he'd just been un-petrified, that was all he'd been able to see. There was still a good chunk of the manor missing, but at least he had a general idea of their territory.
"Right, so, here's the situation." The Soldier cracked his index finger on the map. "Roy and Dale went to this side of the house while being pursued by a mechanical abomination. Pepé le Pew, Fireball and Bonk Boy ran this way, down the same hall as the kitchen and the dining room. Our armaments are most likely here, in the suites. We get over there, pick up what we can find, and then go after the shorties. Are we clear?"
The Heavy frowned. "Your words. They make no sense."
The Medic tried to shush the Heavy. "Just nod and pretend, ja?"
"That's what I always do." The Demoman leaned against the stair railing, still in a buzz over his latest victory and his wine binge. He started counting on his fingers, stopping at the ninth tick. "Wait. We're still missin' that one guy. Kinda tall. Talks like a git."
"I zhink you mean the Sniper." The Medic muttered under his breath. "Drunken dummkopf." Perhaps it was unfair to be berating the man who just saved his life, but the doctor was feeling sour. Needing help in the first place was an embarrassment to him. Having the barely lucid drunk save his life was a minor irritant on top of the full-blown migraine in his head.
The Soldier grumbled, scribbling more on his map. "Well, until we know better, let's assume the most likely scenario and say that he was eaten by a mutant crocodile."
"Giant plant, actually."
All four men turned to face the bottom of the stairwell. It was Miss Pauling, the Engineer and the Sniper. The three of them were soaked with rainwater and something that smelt awful, like diced geraniums. The Medic was the first down the stairs, rapidly checking over them for injuries. He hissed under his breath as he found Miss Pauling's wound. "Schweinehunds! Can't even protect a fair Fräulein."
The Engineer rubbed a hand against his head. "Hard to keep her safe when she goes off like an Amazon. Are y'all doing okay?"
"Are you kidding? We are dominating every damn thing that gives us the evil eye. Well, at least the cyclops is." The Soldier took a sniff, gritting his teeth in disgust. "What's this about a giant plant, then? And what happened to that tin can menace?"
"We happened to take a wrong turn into the conservatory. That machine started attacking this giant plant instead of us. That's where we found the Sniper." Miss Pauling folded her arms behind her back, trying to avoid the sharp glare from the Medic. He was as overprotective as a mother bear, continuing to fuss with her even though she felt much better.
The Soldier nodded, snapping around on his heels. "Ah, yes. The eternal struggle between technology and nature." He then went to taunting the Sniper, patting him in a condescending fashion. "Fell for the old Audrey Two trap, eh, Legolance? It's lucky you have some real American steel protecting your colonial keister."
The only response he got was a low growl, causing the rocket hopper to laugh.
"What about cards?" The Heavy asked.
Miss Pauling shrugged her shoulders. "I didn't grab them. Boys?"
The Engineer shook his head. "Nope. Last I knew, those two monsters were still fightin'."
"Well, let's go kill 'em off and loot their bodies and make a salad." The Demoman stumbled off his feet. He wandered a few paces before realizing he had no idea which way to go.
The Engineer sighed, leading the troop back to the conservatory. It was much quieter than before. Indeed, not much was left in one piece. Pots and statues of all kinds had been shattered, lying in crumpled heaps. Once mighty plants had been pulped and strewn around the floor. The only parts large enough to be recognizable were a few flowers, a couple giant stems, and some ragged leaves. The robot was in no better shape. Its turrets and launcher had been torn off, thick vines piercing armor and joints. Despite this, the machine was still somewhat operational. It tried turning to the intruders at the door, its body buckling under its own mass. A pang of sorrow struck the Engineer's heart. Yes, it was a murderous sentry, but it was Grandpappy's murderous sentry.
The Soldier felt no such regret about finishing the robot off. Bastard had blasted him into smithereens once. He owed the machine one. With a piercing howl, he charged at the robot. His frying pan was quick, smashing across the paneling in the front. As soon as he'd dented metal and broken into wires, he went into a frenzy, ripping out what he could. If he knew he wouldn't die instantly, he would have chewed on the wiring just to prove a point. He yanked out something rectangular and smooth from its chest compartment. With no dramatic fanfare, the robot clattered to the ground.
"Huh. Key card was controlling it." The Soldier shrugged, pocketing his reward. "What does that make us up to?"
The Engineer started ticking off their totals on his fingers. "Well, the Spy had one. So did the Scout."
"I've got two." Miss Pauling produced her cards, taking them out of a pocket in her jeans.
The Heavy retrieved his. "I got this with Miss Pauling. She ran before I could get it to her. Giant robot messed up many plans."
"And mine! Don't be a forgettin' about mine!" The Demoman waggled his in the air.
"…sieben, acht. Ack. No, eight once we find the ozher card in here, yes?" The Medic buzzed his lips. "Hardly any work at all."
"If ya say so, Doc. We've got a sayin' that applies to this situation, and it involves needles and haystacks." The Engineer's eyebrows furrowed. "Anybody know what happened to our three missing amigos?"
The Soldier didn't have an answer for him. "I'll let you know as soon as I find out."
The Sniper interrupted their conversation by tossing a hunk of flower at the chattering group. "If ya yabbos are done cluckin' about, ya mind openin' yar peepers and helpin' me look for that last card?"
The group set to work. It was a slippery, messy job. The rainstorm had drenched the inside of the conservatory, washing gunk every which way. It didn't help that it reeked of plant juices and, in some concentrated areas, blood. Nobody wanted to dig through the tangle where the Sniper had been held. It stank of his blood the worst there. Not that it smelt like a rose garden anywhere else. Some of the plants had pitcher extensions, capturing and rotting large insects and birds. The Medic was horrified by his discovery of a bird carcass in one of them. Sure, it was a buzzard's corpse, but it disheartened him to think that his precious little doves could have been harmed by such a plant.
After about five minutes of silent searching, Miss Pauling asked, "Any luck?"
"The only thing I'm dis-coovering is new ways to stink." The Demoman held his nose together with his fingers.
"Da. Maybe Siberia had one advantage." The Heavy hoisted a huge stem chunk off the ground, tossing it aside like it was nothing heavier than a twig. "Did not smell like dead plant."
The Soldier growled, his fatigues soaked with water and gunk. "I could use the human matchbox right now. Just burn this whole room up."
The Engineer disagreed, holding one chunk on his shoulder. "It's too wet in here. Wouldn't do any good."
"Maybe we're lookin' at this all wrong." The Sniper took a break from digging, observing the room for a moment. There were some balconies upstairs, the staircase up to them long since rotted and torn away. Reaching its top had a simple enough solution. He returned to the rank tangle, grabbing his former snares. It grew straight up, looping around the left balcony. That would do. The climb up was slick, but his fingers dug into the vines and stems like cat claws. With one last pull, he flipped himself up into the balcony. Easy enough, considering all things he went through already tonight.
It was hard to tell if this new angle helped anything. The lightning flashing off the drenched plants was white, hiding the hue of any keycard. He squinted his eyes, giving each inch of the floor a second before moving on. His nose itched as he viewed his shattered sunglasses, remembering the sharp strike across his face. He continued south of the rubble, his eyes setting on a strange stem. From up here, the bumps and distortions looked like characteristics of a human visage.
"Oy, big man." The Sniper pointed the Heavy towards the stem. "Give that a tug, would ya?"
The Heavy plunged his fingers into the stem, the flesh giving away easily. When he pulled back, his eyes widened. There was a white face staring back at him, calm and bowed. He continued pulling away, chunk after chunk revealing a statue about as tall as Miss Pauling. It was feminine, cloaked in a robe lined with roses. It almost looked like a religious symbol, something very much out of place in this hell house. As he pulled one more chunk out of the stem, he banged his knuckles against two folded hands. They dropped to the ground under his force.
Then a tile popped off the floor.
The Demoman was the closest to it when the tile flew up. Naturally, he freaked out. Hidden beneath it was a small, metal box. He picked it out of the hole in the floor, cracking it open. There was the eighth card. He rolled his one good eye. "For cryin'—how the hell'd that even get in there?"
Miss Pauling had no answer. "I'm going to have to ask the Administrator about that one."
"Well, I'm done here." The Soldier walked towards the exit. "Come on, men! Let's go see if we can't find those three block-aaaaargh!"
Everybody snapped their head towards the door, jaws hitting the floor. Something dark and garnet struck the Soldier, rolling him over like a log in a river. It oozed around him, melting his flesh away. The Demoman shrieked, and rightly so. Seeing one's friend dissolved into bones within seconds was nothing to remain calm about.
It was worse, though. The Soldier's bones weren't the only thing floating in the massive blob. There were at least three other skulls, guns and weapons suspended in the mess. It had absorbed other debris as well—plates, knives, forks, stones, wood. Everything it could roll over was a constituent of its body, and damn, was it fast. It sat fat and happy in the team's path, the lower exit sealed away. The only way out was up.
The red tide rolled into the conservatory, prepared to consume anyone or anything in its path.
Author's Note
Sad to say, this is probably the last chapter I'll get in before Halloween proper is over. Hopefully, you'll want to follow this through to the end.
That's all I've got. Sorry. But hey, think about it—two more cards to go! Should be an easy finish, right? Right?
Mwa ha ha ha ha!