Nothing to say, except an old friend from Heather's past arrives, and now the troubles hit the explosive point. :D Hold on to your seatbelts; it's rocking now!

Chapter Seventeen

Heads Over Heels

Everyone around them was talking about "the devil among us", talking about the young girl in his neighborhood, as well as the two teenagers not too far away from the cemetery. Well, not everyone since in modern times, the discussion of an afterlife was private save for a few religious fanatics around. Dan saw the paper that morning before he left for work and got that aching feeling in his whole body again. Herbert, however, gave no reaction but spoke once more of Eric "gathering more followers".

But how could he control them if they're uncontrollable? Herbert laughed as he organized his notes for the formula; the formula had not changed at all, but he preferred reading purely out of habit. "Remember Hill's laser surgical drill?" Dan shivered when he recalled how those things were under the influence of Carl Hill's newest lobotomy invention which had also been used on Meg's father, the dean, so Hill could control him in order to prevent anyone else finding out that he and Herbert were responsible and, as Herbert said, "protect HIS discovery". After Hill died, his invention had been passed out for lobotomies today in other hospitals over the country, save for others like Germany who called it an abomination of the human will. "It's possible our old friend could have used that. Who doesn't nowadays?"

He had once again been visited by Detective Chapham that day at the hospital; that woman could not bother to wait until he was home for once, not that he wanted her to. But when she confronted him in his office instead of going straight to Heather as she did last time, she'd sneered and warned him that things were getting out of hand now that Dr. Eric Moreland had disappeared, same with his wife. "Ex-wife," Dan had corrected, his impatience thinning. "Detective, I don't know how much longer you plan to harass me and my friends and family with your investigation, but you're wasting time."

"The more deaths that happen in a matter of time," she'd fired back, "the more I know you and your friends know more that you're not telling me. You know you'll all be in serious trouble withholding information."

He'd narrowed his eyes at her. "Is that what I'm doing, Detective Miranda Chapham?"

She'd said nothing then, just turned and stalked out without another word. If he didn't know any better, he'd say he was becoming more and more like his friend with talking off people like her. It made him stronger but also scared him. "I'm proud of you then, Dan," Herbert said with a coy smile. "You're becoming more of a man than I remember you back in the day. That's exactly the kind of father your son needs, too. Someone who defends valiantly, as I did for you against Chapham and the police."

Dan smiled nervously and then looked up at the sound of his son's laughter in the living room over the cartoon Transformers. "You're right. For a man with no children, that was spotless." He felt the smile slip. "But if she gets too close and finds the proof against us, I might lose him and Francesca, face jail time with you and Heather, lose my practice ultimately."

Herbert stood and walked around the table, placing his hand on his shoulder. "Nothing will happen to us. I'll make sure this time. I got Heather and myself out, so all of us will get out of here, go out of the country after we settle our score with Eric and his monsters once and for all."

The door opened then, and the laughter of the girls ended the conversation right there.

~o~

The day was two weeks away, and Herbert couldn't stop thinking about spending the rest of his life with Heather. He cleared his head about the "rest of my life" part. If something happened to either of them, one of them would bring back the other so their life was prolonged. Which literally meant eternity. We'll live and love forever. We'll show the world forever does indeed exist.

He had made a promise to keep his work on low, but he still had a task for the world. Herbert successfully saved a few people's lives under perfect secrecy, of course, but instead of them being afraid of him, they thanked him and went about their lives. They had no families to make instant inquiries, as he preferred his subjects to be so no questions and accusations were raised. So far, so good, but there was still no sign of Moreland or any of his creations. Each day that passed, more people died, and all in grotesque conditions. Heather knew better by now than to bring them back that way, but then Francesca had the nerve to suggest Herbert put his foot down and help those victims, do what he did best.

"You think I'd have the audacity to resort to more of these broken pieces like I used to?" he'd snapped at her. "I told all of you that my re-agent is for whole human beings, not shattered hordes of them." So she'd said no more.

Heather had told him she'd gotten her dress ahead of time, but he wasn't allowed to see her just yet, making him impatient. He had been patient all those years in his solitary cell, waiting for her to come to his rescue, but he couldn't wait for the day that would be the start of their future together. Today was his day off even though he wasn't a man to be away from important duties, but Heather insisted so they had some time together. Because she wanted him to meet someone she'd invited for their wedding, and it wasn't someone who knew who he really was. "I told her your fake name," she explained when they were strolling the streets of Boston for one of the little cafes to meet this mysterious friend of hers. He was almost distracted by the sight of her in her soft gray dress, making her look younger than she was that he almost lost what she said next. "When she asked if this was the same one who died, I told her it can be a common name for anyone." By the time they walked through the door, a high, peppy voice shrieked out to her.

"Oh, Heather, you made it!" The young woman had her long brown hair in stubborn curls she struggled to keep out of her face, gold-coined jewelry jingling around her neck, and her dress off one shoulder and white enough to make his vision go blind. She jumped from the nearest round table and ran to hug Heather, still squealing enough to make Herbert's eardrums almost explode. Women and their screaming, he swore to himself. "I'm so sorry we haven't seen each other in so long," the other girl said once they separated. "I've been so busy with my newest line I finally had the time to be here. I'm selling here in Boston this week."

"Oh, that's wonderful." Heather gushed before remembering him. Finally, I'm back in the conversation, Herbert thought sarcastically. "Bianca, this is my fiancé, Frances Dexter. Frances, this is my best friend from childhood, Bianca Lars."

Oh, now he remembered. Her childhood friend whom Heather had not seen in years. He managed a smile as he reached out and accepted her hand. She smiled back. "Pleasure to meet you, Miss Lars," he said.

She waved her free hand. "Oh, please, Bianca. Everyone besides my friends call me Bianca. So, Heather..." She turned to her friend. "...this is the one I mistook for the other one whom you rejected in college?" Heather cracked an embarrassed grin and nodded. "Why don't you guys tell me how long you've been together?" They sat down around the table she had been at, turning to yell over her shoulder to the nearest waiter to bring them three iced teas.

Heather's face was struggling to keep together as she fought for an answer she hoped wouldn't lead to a lot of questions. Herbert reached out to comfort her, placing his hand on hers and interlacing his fingers through hers. "Oh, some months now," she answered, half telling her the truth. Perfect. Only over a month will lead to criticism. She doesn't take that well. But thankfully, Dan brought up how she coldly – and successfully – told off the daughter of Leslie Chapham, but she was still on them despite Heather's best. Her fire made it too much to resist her. "But we're getting married in a couple weeks from now."

Bianca's jaw dropped. "You're getting married so soon? Heather, are you sure about this? Have you guys gotten to know each other yet?" Her gaze landed on him; now she was eyeing him like she was trying to figure out if she'd seen him before. Herbert shifted back in his seat, keeping his face as emotionless as possible. He could be wrong, but if she was starting to recognize him despite the absence of his glasses, they were in more trouble than before. But he couldn't be sure, and he couldn't be too careful either.

"We've known each other long enough, thank you," he said coolly. "I love your friend more than anything."

"Ignoring the fact that you two are almost two decades apart in age differences," she responded, laughing. Unfortunately, Herbert had limited sense of humor in contrast to his own, so he was only slightly offended by the mention of how old he was. He preferred to leave that to himself. Sensing his emotions, she stopped her laughter. "Oh, okay, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt anybody. You know I'm just looking out for you," she told Heather.

"I know you are, girl." The iced teas finally arrived. Herbert never had anything like this before just yet, but the second he sampled, a sweet, refreshing feeling coursed through his bloodstream like ice, too good for words. He briefly pondered back on his previous life changing so much since Heather came in. All the simple little things he never cared about he was growing to love so much thanks to her. "But would you love to find some time in your schedule to fly back here in time and attend our wedding?" They had been apart for so long, and Herbert could tell she wanted her old friend to come to the best day of their lives terribly. He knew how much she wanted someone important in her life; other people's well-beings had been an afterthought for him, but not anymore.

And Bianca was jumping up and down like a little girl she was still acting as. "Oh, Heather, seriously? I'd love to be your maid of honor!"

Heather stood up then and reached out with both hands to sit her back down, since a few faces looked their way; Herbert glared at them all to give them respected privacy, and they looked away. "We can't have the whole world know," he told her in a low voice. "Our affair is private and personal." Her eyes widened with understanding, and she nodded.

"Okay, sorry."

"But, yeah, we'd love you to be. It'll be at the courthouse, outside, and a small reception dinner in the ballroom," Heather explained. "We don't care about the big party or not, just want it to be the happiest day of our lives. Think you can make it?"

"I most definitely will," the brunette answered, that Cheshire smile back. "In the meantime, we have a lot of catching up to do." Her soft brown eyes met Herbert's again. "And I'd love to get to know you more, Frances."

~o~

"So, she'll be here?" Francesca exclaimed happily as she helped Heather clear the dinner table, Dan helping them out, and Herbert leaning in to tell little Adrian a story that his mother wouldn't approve of, but he wouldn't reveal anything that involved his life's work. "You know, after all these years of not seeing her, you two are finally catching up; I'm surprised," Francesca added.

"I know, right?" Heather agreed, squirting some Dawn into the hot sink water. "We've made up for lost times, and she hasn't changed much. She's got a great career like I do, she likes Herbert, and she's going to be my maid of honor. I can't be any more happier." She and Bianca grew up together until they entered the real world and took separate jobs, preventing them from having much contact, but their bond had not ceased over time. So to see her again made all the emotions bubble to the point where Heather felt like crying and couldn't contain herself, falling right into Dan's arms when her legs wobbled beneath her.

"Hey, hey, don't do that," he chastised gently, rocking her. "I hate seeing women cry. Everything is getting better..."

"Except for that bastard out there, and more dying each day," Francesca reminded him, waving her hand for the little TV on the kitchen counter, the headline reading NAMELESS BOSTON HORROR STRIKES AGAIN. A family of five had been struck down in their home, glass shattered everywhere as much as blood was spilled over – not only the parents, but a preteen as well as two littler ones – and it was ten times as horrible as the massacre at Miskatonic University and the Arkham State Prison, now that both of them were made a big deal more than they were then.

And what was worse: the name Herbert West was brought to full light.

As well as a picture of his mugshot when he was first arrested.

"Oh, my God, Herbert!" Heather cried, almost dropping the beloved china dish in her hand before she caught it and held it close, fearing for its safety as much as for the man she was getting married to, who came rushing in and stood beside Dan. All four of them, now Adrian coming to be beside his mother, found himself swept up in her arms and held close as they listened to the reporter's words.

"The brutal killings of about eleven people have led the Boston Police Department to believe that Dr. Herbert West, mad former doctor of the Miskatonic University Hospital and inmate prisoner of the Arkham Penitentiary, is in fact not dead as he was believed to be. More deaths have ensued this week, including the recent family of five, and Detective Miranda Chapham of the force has released her statement based on her late father, Lt. Leslie Chapham of Arkham Police thirteen years prior, who was killed in the second chaos whilst conducting a private investigation of his own against the books but nevertheless successfully exposed Dr. West as the culprit of the carnage at Miskatonic Medical School –"

"The hell this bastard is saying!" Dan roared, picking up the remote and ready to throw it into the screen, but Heather stopped him.

"Not yet. We need to hear this first," she said calmly, just in time for the next bit.

"– involved was Daniel Cain, a colleague of West's amidst his gory affairs of re-animated detached body parts, or rather body parts with the appearance of life, as well as mutilated corpses scattered about, not too long ago discovered at the very same prison where West had been held for the last thirteen years, having been condemned to life imprisonment. Although the criminal scientist's body wasn't uncovered and no trace found, as well as no evidence of an escape, it was believed that Herbert West was in fact killed amidst the riot. Recently, a fellow officer released a witness statement that Dr. Heather Phillips, recent graduate from Miskatonic and the new head doctor of the prison, was reported to have left the penitentiary with an assistant by the name of Frances Dexter whose record of employment was never found, but based on a sketch of memory –"

Her heart fell when a drawing of Herbert's face, sans spectacles, was shown to screen...and then his prison image next to it, as well as the reporter's conclusion. "– it is now believed that Herbert West has in fact been on the run all this time under our very noses, and the good Detective Miranda Chapham is proud to announce that she would gladly find the fugitive scientist whose grotesque experiments have obviously not ended, and bring justice to the poor lives lost. In the meantime, in other news –"

"Goddamn it, now she'll be back here for us!" Herbert shouted, his temper losing faster than Dan's. Heather looked at him, used to seeing him angry, but she'd never seen him this angry before. She stepped back away from him because she knew his threads were snapping fast. "We obviously can't stay here long, so we must get ready and get out of here."

Francesca held her son close in shock. "'Us'? You mean...leave this house? Leave our home?" she asked in horror. "Where are we going to go?"

"Anywhere out of the states," Herbert stated, turning from her to Dan. "Anywhere else, we'll be hunted down like animals. I would say we go somewhere like London, where nobody knows who we are. Start over safe."

Heather had never been away from Massachusetts, the state of her birth, so to think of even getting out of the country was terrifying. She could see that Francesca was relieved to get away from here, but she also was worried for her child who was still in her arms, whimpering and holding onto his mother as he looked up at Herbert. "B-but where will we be?" he asked, almost crying. Herbert looked at him and sighed, shaking his head, reaching up to remove his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

"I don't have time to explain, but the best we have to do is pack up and go to the nearest motel for a few days, hide out while we think of a way to get out of here for good. I will not have everything I worked my life to accomplish be taken from me again..." He looked down at Heather then, eyes softening. "...not even this one."

"Yeah, we can save the lovey-dovey stuff for later," Dan said, moving to his wife and son to lead them upstairs. "Alright, pack up what we need so we can get the hell out of here."

By the time everyone grabbed everything they needed, each carrying a bag or two of their own, the doorbell rang, startling Heather out of her wits and almost screaming when Herbert slapped his hand over her mouth. "Sssh, it might be her," he hissed under his breath. "She might have made it."

"Are the police around our house?" Adrian asked softly, standing close to his father's side. "Am I going to jail with you guys?"

"No," Dan assured him, reaching down to ruffle his hair. "You won't."

Heather was glad he didn't tell his boy that he could be taken away from his parents and placed in a foster home while they all served jail time. This is it, she thought as she stood close to the man she loved and who was her partner and equal. We all go down; everything we did was all for nothing. We lose everything we love tonight. And that means we'll never be outside the stone walls of imprisonment again. Then Francesca stepped forward, walking to one of the curtained windows and pulled it back slightly to get a peek outside to see if the evil bitch herself was out there. "Fran?" Heather asked nervously, clutching Herbert's hand in hers.

She shook her head and let the curtain fall back into place. "I don't see anyone. No cop cars, not her, nobody. And none of Eric and any creatures."

"Dr. Moreland?" her son asked. "He bad now?"

His mother looked down at him softly. "Yes, sweetie, he's a bad man now, and he's after us, too."

He whimpered and held onto Dan's leg. "Will he ever stop?"

Dan reached down to pick him up into both arms. "I hope so, son, but I promise we will get these bad people out of the way. No matter what it takes."

Heather heard the click of a gun; Herbert had pulled out the revolver he'd gotten himself shortly after coming to Boston, leaving her side to go to the door, then reached to slowly unlock it and turned the knob, opening it deathly slow before with great speed and pointing the gun into a blank street and night. The wind was cold, howling and washing into the house to surround them with impending terror. Heather's hair flew about her face; the goosebumps rose on the bared flesh of her arms and legs, and Adrian buried his face into his father's neck. Francesca stepped back to join her husband and son, standing as far as possible from Herbert, who was acting as the braver of the lot at the moment.

Nobody – nothing – was there; no policeman or woman, no Dr. Eric Moreland or zombies. Just an empty, darkened street.

And a two-foot-high, two-foot-long brown package at Herbert's feet on the porch.

She eyed it suspiciously; who could have sent them a package at an odd, dire time? There was no name addressed to the resident, nor did it say who it was from. "What is it?" she asked as Herbert put his gun to his belt and knelt down to pick it up with both hands, standing and closing the door with his foot, then set it down on the floor. The box was not taped shut, which was extremely odd...and then Heather saw the darkness at the bottom of the box, and a little splash onto the floor from an opened corner facing her. Blood, she realized with horror at the red reflected from the lighting. "Herbert –"

But he opened it too late. Francesca screamed and turned her face away to her husband while Dan kept his son's face hidden from the grotesque sight and regarded it with horror and disgust that matched his wife's. Herbert jolted his body back at once, his face set in a grim scowl as he regarded the contents of the thing that Heather choked out in grief far greater than over Laura, just as strong as Emily.

"Bianca, no!"

Her body felt like it shut off right there, but she forced herself to remain strong and standing. There in a package delivered to this house, was the head of her childhood friend whom she had reunited with earlier that day, had lunch with and caught up on lost times with, introduced her to her husband-to-be and invited to their wedding...now she was gone. I keep putting everyone I love in danger. I should have kept her out of this while we were in the middle of this mess. But it was too late now. And Herbert couldn't bring her back because of her body missing, and who knew how long she'd been dead. Heather felt the flood at the gates, ready to be released.

Herbert closed the box for her sake and stood to walk over to her, taking her face in his hands. "We have to go, love. I wish I could do something for her, but I can't." He looked up to the Cain family, their only friends they had left. "We have to go now, but on the way, we have to get rid of the box so they never trace it to us."

They all got into the car with haste, locking and closing up behind them. Luckily, no cop cars stopped them on the way, nor did they see any. Herbert did the honors of driving while Dan was in the back, comforting his family. Heather was in the front passenger, the box containing the head of her best friend in her lap, but it made her partially sick because it was a dead head, but at the same time, she wanted to hold the last of her best friend and keep the grief down a bit. And not only was her mind full of the police finding them, Moreland and his expanding army of the undead, as well as the newest loss of someone she loved, she thought maybe they couldn't have their perfect wedding now, even though her dress was still in the garment bag and ready for the day. But perhaps in England, they could have it once they were settled in safe and sound.

"We'll stop near the courthouse," Herbert announced, pausing at a sidewalk that had no threat of a ticket or police vehicle finding them, and no one to see them passing by at this time of night. "It's farther from this part of town, but it'll be safe for now. How does that sound?"

Dan nodded. "Anything to get us away from here. But I don't think we'll be hidden for long."

"No, you're right," Herbert agreed after a moment's pause. "But I'm afraid we don't have any other options. And for sure, we're not leaving until we take down Eric and his minions."

Heather jerked her head in his direction. "Are you serious? And risk us getting arrested? Do you want to go back to jail?" As well as I, and these two here, their little boy without both parents and in a foster home where he's living with strangers who take him in for money?

"Of course I don't," Herbert snapped. "But there is one thing I do want to do before we go to battle and before we leave the country."

"And what is that?" Heather asked, raising an eyebrow at him, the Cains all watching with the same expression as her. He leaned in close to her, his face inches from hers, softened and relaxed.

"I don't want you to miss out on this, but please marry me. Marry me soon as possible while we are here. Spend one last night of happiness before we leave this place for good."

Heather gaped at him. Seriously, you're asking me to marry you when I was just thinking about it? And at a time like this? "But Herbert, the police including Chapham are after us – zombies, too – and you're asking me to marry you soon? How are we going to do this –?" He cut her off with a kiss on her lips, and her sentence was left as it was. She immediately forgot about what she was trying to tell him, and the fact he kissed her in front of little Adrian right there between his parents.

"Heather," Herbert spoke breathlessly when he let her go, "I just don't want to wait anymore. Don't you think we've both waited long enough?"

So to reunite with your best friend only to lose them in a day. :'( I had a hard time writing it, but it served as a driving force. And now we're getting to the good stuff. The gang now goes into hiding, and the lovers might have the wedding of their lifetime ending bad.

Bianca's head in the box - a reference to "There's a Head in the Box" by The Smiling Shadow, one of my all-time favorites, which I personally still believe for Herbert that he does NOT deserve a hell like that, deserves a second chance; besides the point, but I don't care. As well as to "The Tomb-Legions", part six of Lovecraft's tale in which Herbert and the unnamed narrator receive the night of his ultimate demise a "two-foot square box", though we never learn what is really inside because they incinerate it.

I take it people are wondering how Herbert would want to drop it in at a time like that, telling his bride-to-be that they should marry soon before leaving the country. I mean, her best friend's head is in a box delivered to the house, but time's running out and the law are on them all like butter on toast, so it'd make sense that despite the current situation, Herbert would want to marry her soon.