The beginning of the action. :D Have fun.

Chapter Seven

Prison Riot

He could hear the security alarms ringing in the distance when he opened the door to investigate; if only he was armed so he could shoot down anyone who tried to cross him like he used to in the old days.

And Cabrera was near, for his voice and footsteps neared. "West! Where are you, Einstein? Hiding is not going to do you –" He had just rounded the corner and, upon seeing Herbert, lunged forward and grabbed him by his shirt to spin them both around, slamming him against the glass wall and leaning in. This was about his precious little rodent, and Herbert knew it. "Listen, Ratty's acting really weird. Either you messed him up, or you gave me the wrong rat."

Herbert growled, "Get your hands off of me. That little beast was as low and meaningless as you are."

Cabrera growled back and slammed him back further. Heather and Laura were just coming up, and the woman whom he might be desiring despite their constant quarrels began to step up for him, which he could use right now. "Guards!" she yelled out, grabbing the Spaniard's attention and making him laugh.

"What? Guards? Bitch, there are no guards. This place is a riot."

Riot...the animals free from their cages. Which means they must have taken the guards down; the guards didn't stand a chance. Whatever how many are left...if any. Herbert considered lifting his leg and kneeing this son of a bitch in the spot, but in strength, he was two times Herbert's and could get himself back up. But Cabrera wasn't looking at him or Heather, and the whistle he let out was targeted at Laura, who was walking in a daze not too far behind Heather. "Look what we have here."

Heather stepped in front of her friend, taking the role of alpha female. "Leave her alone," she said, which proved to be a mistake since she was soon pushed up against the wall, which set Herbert's defenses up in a blaze of fire; how DARE he lay a hand on her?! That was his Heather – he frowned; wait, did he say "his"? I know I did, but that is besides the point.

"Stay away from her," Herbert said. "She's sick. Contagious." And stronger to take you down, he thought.

Cabrera snorted and laughed at the same time, letting Heather go for his stronger, balder companion to target her and put her back up against the wall, grabbing her neck and wanting to kill her first. The look in his eyes said too much of what he planned to do. "Sick? Well, I've got some good medicine for her. Make her feel better," Cabrera drawled, getting behind Laura and pushing her hair behind her back to bare her neck to his filthy eyes. "West took my little Ratty, so I'm taking his little pussycat."

Laura looked frightened to her bones as she began to realize what he was thinking, but then it changed altogether into a feral expression when she raised her hand; the fingers were wiggling in an unnatural way, and it seemed to move on its own when it reached behind her and struck him in the face, sending him down and prompting Herbert to move and help the woman who came to his rescue and helped him this far. He grabbed the brute from behind and wrapped his hands around his thick neck to make him let go of Heather, distracting him for the moment only to be thrown backwards and sliding across the floor so he hit a collection of trash bins.

He only managed to pick himself up to see the man follow Cabrera after Laura, who had run off to get away from him. Heather had stood and stared in shock in that direction the two men had gone off after her friend. Herbert knew what she was thinking and what she wanted. "Go!" he shouted, and she did run. He hurried and stopped in that way, watching until she was gone before turning back to the doors to the infirmary...where his vials of re-agent and the Warden's body still were. Well, there's a riot going on, I have my work finished, so now's the time. What I've been waiting for.

~o~

Oh, my God, it's happening, Heather thought in horror at the sight of the prisoners in blue outnumbering the guards. The alarms blared painfully in her aching brain as well as the shattering of glass windows as men with crowbars broke to get what they wanted, what they had no time to get for themselves. That would also mean because she was a woman, Heather was the target for the sexual predators now roaming around. But thankfully enough, as she passed through a little office where two guards were dead briefly for cover, she saw about three, maybe four guards there with their arms raised and at the gated entrance she first walked through and brought her to conquering death...as well as Herbert West in her life.

"Over here!" one of them, a black man, yelled over to her. "Come on, ma'am!"

Her mind was screaming, Not without Laura! As well as, Not without Herbert! But he was still a prisoner, so that would imply she favorited him and that it wasn't healthy. Well, it wasn't, and it made her angry, but she had to admit she did care about him in spite of everything, as much as circumstances broke her mind to a degree as well as her heart. He HELPED her, and she helped him first.

"Where is she?" she asked upon being "locked" in "safely" with the other surviving guards.

"Who?" the black man asked.

"Laura Olney, the journalist," she answered. "She was right in front of me, and they were chasing her. She's still in there!" she yelled when the gates were sealing off, the red light blaring somewhere overhead. But her pleas to go back inside were to no avail; no one in there, her ass, in response to the guard, and shaking him by the shirt didn't help her get in either. The best Heather could do was grab the bars of the window and scream Laura's name in there, hoping she was all right...and Herbert.

~o~

Being back in his old clothes – the white shirt, black tie and pants – was refreshing and surreal at the same time. He was back to his old self again, and better than ever. Herbert thanked Heather for this, and for picking out the right size for him. But now that his formula and equipment were packed, he wasn't ready to leave just yet. There was chaos going on out there, Laura was chased by two sexual predators, and who knew where Heather was.

He wasn't fond of Miss Olney, obviously, but she was still Heather's friend, so yes, he halfway worried for her safety. But not as much as he feared something would happen to Heather.

He looked down at the Warden's body, specifically the black-outlined, purple-red mark from the impact of the microscope. It hadn't been satisfying wholly as it had been decapitating Carl Hill's head with the shovel, but it gave him enough pleasure to partially bash the sadist's head in. It had been long moments since his death, so the tissue cells wouldn't be approximately fresh, given it had been longer than Laura, his victim in the hole. But Ratty's NPE had to be used without going to waste.

The re-agent was currently coursing through Brando's system, and Herbert stood over, watching carefully. He'd tied the man down using more cable he found in the closet, but this time, the behavior wasn't like Laura or Moses. The eyes blinked a few times as though from sleep than death, returning to life calmer than before. The calm before the storm, Herbert thought as he leaned over, holding the syringe for a few more moments as he greeted his enemy.

"Welcome back, Warden." He dropped the needle to the table; better not to let a body go to waste, either. Failure and waste were two things never on his list. "Before I leave, I want to conduct one –" He held up one finger in emphasis. "– last experiment, and you are the perfect subject." The Warden gave no response, just continued to glower at him with fiery vengeance, but it made him smile. All those last three years of being in solitary and the ability to find what he had long been looking for were the only things he would ever thank this man for, but for his wicked deeds, none of that would ever be repented. "Those three years in solitary were very instructive, and the only thing I'll ever thank you for. Because I did my best work in there." He had leaned over and spat the letters "S" and "T" in the word best. "And this is the result: the NPE, also known as Nano-Plasmic Energy." He grinned maliciously. "Frankenstein used electricity, and it worked wonders."

Herbert proudly held up the bulb that was the rat NPE, sparking before the re-animated Warden's blank but furious eyes. He was more than ready to test it out on him now, so he placed it in the capsule, citing the hypothesis aloud. "Rodent to human – or is it a neutral energy?"

He held up the tines, carefully smoothing out the wire, the metal fork gleaming in the light. "Behavioral imprinting. Let's find out, shall we?"

The Warden did not fight him, but he did growl a warning, and Herbert still got the fork into his spinal cord without trouble, returning to throw the switch so the spark of life did its work. Herbert watched on without a trace of care as the Warden returned to reason, and his slimy attitude was back. "West," he ground out, "you cretin. You'll fry for this."

Herbert snorted. He was tied down and in no position to be making threats, so there might be another way to let him be handled. A crash was heard above this floor, making Herbert look up. "Do you hear that?" he asked, a croon underneath his tone. "There's a riot going on up there; the animals are loose and running the zoo." He looked back down to Brando's face and smiled to one corner of his mouth. "They'll make their way down here quite soon, I think."

He had to get out of here now and soon, for by now, the police had to be surrounding the institution. That meant finding Heather if any of the prisoners hadn't gotten to her yet. Grabbing his bag, he returned to the Warden's side. "I'd like to stick around for the results, but I can't." As much as I want to see his own prisoners take revenge for their abuse, I got myself and a certain lady to think about. "You see, there's a new early release program just today...and I qualify."

At long last, freedom coming right up. To smell the air again, to go as I please...but that would mean getting as far from Arkham as possible. To Boston, where nobody has heard the name Herbert West since for thirteen years. IF they haven't. He paused to look over his shoulder to the still-strapped man. "I'll leave this door wide open just so they'd find you."

He needed to do another thing or two, first, and it shouldn't take too long. That was searching for a defense weapon in case any of the other inmates came across his path, but he wasn't sure what exactly or where in this part of the prison; something was better than nothing at all.

A monstrous growl was heard behind him, and he quickly looked behind him and up too late, because he saw the Warden's cane, and the back of his head received a blow so bad that his world darkened, and he was sure to wake up to a throbbing head afterwards.

~o~

They were here. The police were here. One of the guards with her had dialed 911 somewhere, and the SWAT teams were surrounding the prison at this moment. Heather had no time to be questioned – not that there was time for any anyways – because once the entrance gates were opened, the SWAT team was armed and swarming about the mess. Everything was so hectic that they didn't pay anymore attention to her.

She saw this as her opportunity to slip away and try to find Laura and Herbert. And get the hell out of here.

Fires were set, and prisoners were roaming free. It was disaster lurking in ever corner, as well as danger if she wasn't careful. It'd be foolish to think none of them would harm her since she was the good Dr. Phillips who treated them like human beings, though inside as much as her heart was still opened, these men were wild animals that needed to be in cages. They tortured innocent people for their own delight.

She shrieked when there was a mild explosion of fire to her right, and quickly ducked for cover. And then she heard someone yell out that there was a civilian inside and to hold fire. They saw me. But when they see me and Laura, and Herbert if he's gotten something to disguise himself, we're getting the hell out. She stopped there. I have to get Herbert out. I'm risking more than I did before, and he'll be a fugitive once they find he's missing.

A man was heard screaming somewhere. Looking up, Heather saw a guard dropped from two level stairs overhead, landing on the floor in a sickening crack, like eggs breaking. Blood splattered from the back of his head. She stared at him in horror for a second before turning and running. If she didn't hurry, she'd get that same treatment.

Yeah, all of this was a mistake. Dan was right all along; Herbert killed Emily. No, wait – he had nothing to do with that zombie which did it...no, he made that thing...! God damn it, I don't know what to think anymore. He killed people in the name of science, yet he did it all to achieve every doctor's dream. And the Warden...he deserved what he got. I hated him from the very beginning, and he killed Laura; Herbert brought her back.

But now she's...changing. She's changing because the Warden is trying to take her over. Oh, God, Herbert, why?

"Laura!" she yelled at the top of her lungs. "Laura!"

~o~

By the time Herbert returned to consciousness, as he predicted, he was suffering a migraine and felt a damp heat at the back of his head. It was like when he brought back Hill's head and body that he was knocked out so his work was taken.

Thinking that brought him to full alertness, but then the pain in his skull got stronger that he flinched and sat up as far as he could, reaching behind him to touch the source of the damp heat, bringing his hand back to show red familiar red blood. Brando did a number on my poor head. But his brain was the least of his worries when he looked down to see where he'd left the bag of his re-agent, notes and all.

The bag was gone. Damn it, history repeating itself!

Panic swelled in him. The Warden, curse Brando, took his serum and everything! Once he found him, he would finish him off like he did Dr. Hill for good. Herbert stood up and hurried out of the infirmary. He saw SWAT officers around, pointing their firearms at every prisoner and empty corner, but he had to make sure that they didn't see him as he scouted about in search of the Warden, as well as Heather.

He had come to the main area office, just outside, when he heard Heather's voice. She's still alive! Thank goodness she's all right. But his relief was short-lived when he saw something on the ground in the hallway, along a collection of empty cells and resting amid a litter of shattered glass. Running over and kneeling down to pick it up, Herbert saw that it was a hypodermic needle...my re-agent! The Warden is using it. He's creating zombies all over the place.

This was exactly why he preferred keeping the work between himself and the one person he could trust; anyone else who didn't would steal it and use it for their own benefit, abuse it. Hearing Heather's cries again – "Laura!" – he realized she could use his help now. She clearly hadn't found her friend yet.

Along the way down that hall, he peeked in empty cells, seeing bodies along the way, and he could have sworn he saw Cabrera with his body broken in half– in that case, I believe Laura offed him good. He smiled so slightly. If there was ever one thing he liked in a woman, it was a fighting one. Weak ones like Megan Halsey were never his cup of tea.

"Laura!" Heather repeating the name over and over was getting to his nerves. He found her then, the flickering fires radiating off her soft hair and skin.

Out of habit, Herbert raised his flashlight and aimed the beam for her face. "Lose something?"

Her face was frantic. "She changed," she answered. "You were wrong; she changed! The NPE was never neutral! It made her something else!"

He shrugged casually. "It was a theory," he said, and it made her very angry. Her teeth bared when she screamed angrily and grabbed him by his shirt and shoved him up against the wall. She was strong despite her smaller build than him.

"Oh, God, I HATE you!" she howled furiously. She was broken now, or rather, getting there. "You and your sick experiments!"

She'd spoken to him the same way Daniel had, and it wounded him as much as it hurt him to see her this way. Heather called him sick, said she made a mistake...no different than Daniel, the man he was positive taught her at Miskatonic because everything in him he was seeing in her. He knew he was right, just knew it. He was proud that Dan made her into a strong woman, but he still harbored no respect for him for turning him in, betraying the friendship he thought they'd shared.

"What was I thinking?!" She sounded like she was half talking to herself and half to him. Herbert said nothing, just watched her face and listened to her pants of breath as she struggled to calm down. He wanted terribly to comfort her but wasn't sure how. "Laura was right. You killed my sister."

"No, I did not kill her myself," Herbert retorted. "That was an unfortunate incident."

"Emily was not an 'incident'!" Heather shouted.

"There's NOTHING that we can do about your sister now!" Her face was crestfallen; he did it this time. But perhaps there was a chance to fix that with the other issue at hand. "But we may," he said softly, turning his face away from her because he could no longer stand seeing her, "still be able to save your...friend."

"Laura! Her name is Laura!"

There was no way she could have searched that far for Laura, and with the Warden on the loose and more beastly than ever... "Did you try the Death House?"

She blinked. "The Death House?"

"She ought to be there, because if the Warden found her, that's probably where he took her." That time he told Dan what he did to Hill, Dan was less than pleased, so Heather's reaction would be no different than then.

"The Warden?" she repeated, puzzled. "But he's dead." His silence and the guilty expression of "not anymore" was on his face, and he himself knew it. Her screams were back again with "God damn you!"

Herbert shook his head. "Religion has got nothing to do with this, my dear." He started off in the direction where the stairs led downstairs to the Death House.

Yeps, these two are starting to reach the point where they realize they truly care about each other, but the danger is FAR from over. What lies ahead for them - and HOW and WILL they ever escape the chaos?