Chapter Twelve

Kalin came down the stairs a few minutes later, drying his hair and looking mildly irritated.

"Did you have an audience too?" Radley greeted him.

"Yeah," Kalin grunted. "And they flooded the sink."

Radley winced. "I should have let you take the second floor bathroom and just waited my turn."

"It's fine," Kalin said with a wave of his hand. "Angelique said they do that all the time."

"That must be murder on the floor," Radley cringed.

"Maybe the ghosts clean it up themselves," Kalin deadpanned. "The floor looked alright. I've seen a lot of water-damaged floors."

"That's nice of them if they do that," Radley said. ". . . I wonder how Malcolm's doing."

"Do you want to go check on him?" Kalin asked.

"I think I should," Radley said. He sighed. "And Hans thinks someone else is trying to kill him too."

Kalin grunted. "I was wondering the same thing, honestly. There's no way we should have defeated Dr. Raven so fast, especially after all the trouble fighting him earlier."

"I guess that's the power of having the clock tower?" Radley mused. "You're right, though. Something felt off." He paused. "Do you think he let us win?"

"I don't know," Kalin said. "But I'm sure he has an ace up his sleeve."

"We'd better find out if anyone knows anything else about Dr. Raven they haven't said yet," Radley said.

"I'm planning on it," Kalin said.

Overhearing their conversation, Angelique came over to them in concern. "There is something," she said. "I haven't heard anything about where Amelia is. She was a crazy old woman who gleefully helped Dr. Raven with his spells."

Radley groaned. "Well, that's just great. What's the last you knew about her?"

"That she went to prison," Angelique said. "But when Dr. Raven is out, she must be too."

"See what you can find out," Kalin directed. "We need to know."

"I know," Angelique said.

xxxx

Malcolm, meanwhile, had finished showering with relatively little input from any ghosts. Or maybe he hadn't noticed; he was largely wrapped up in thinking about the last several hours. Having a fairly peaceful and constructive conversation with his brother that was then interrupted by said brother being mind-controlled by black magic and terrorizing him until at last breaking free of the control enough to sacrifice himself to protect him and two enemies. . . . Malcolm wasn't sure he had ever had a more bizarre and upsetting day. At least not since Lawton had betrayed him in Crash Town.

And where was he now? Heaven or Hell? Malcolm really didn't know any better than Radley and didn't want to think too hard about it, but he couldn't help wondering anyway. He wouldn't have ever thought Heaven was possible, but . . .

And then all the times Lawton had come back alive when it had seemed impossible. . . . If only he had again now.

Just for argument's sake, if he had . . . what would happen next? Would he just go on the run, not even trying to let Malcolm know he was alive, and Malcolm would float along in limbo for who knew how long before finally some news would trickle in from somewhere? That was definitely what Lawton had done in the past. But now . . . after he really did seem to have changed to some extent . . . would he do it again?

He might feel he had no choice, since reaching out to Malcolm at all could result in being caught by the police, and he had already made it clear he wasn't going to let that happen.

Malcolm scowled. If he had survived, would he really spend the rest of his life on the run? Malcolm had hated going to the Facility, but aside from when Lawton had busted out a couple of times to enact schemes and taken Malcolm with him, he had stayed. And now he was glad he had, as strange as it might sound. Radley's kindness had worked on him, softening a heart long hardened by greed and power. Even if Lawton still saw Radley as his enemy, Malcolm never could anymore.

He opened the door and found Radley standing there about to knock. "What's up, Radley?" he asked.

"I was about to ask you that," Radley said.

"Eh. I want a drink," Malcolm grumbled.

Radley grimaced. "I get you'd feel like drinking right now, but I don't think it's a good idea. You know you always drink too much and get violent."

"Yeah." Malcolm stepped past him into the hall. "And if you and Kalin are my caretakers for now, I'm sure you won't allow that."

"You're right," Radley said with a wan smile.

". . . Hans said Lawton has a cellphone," Malcolm remembered. "I wonder what happened to it. Was it with him when he . . . or did that Raven punk take it?"

"We'll have to call the morgue and find out," Radley said. "I'll do that tomorrow."

"Thanks," Malcolm gruffly said.

"For now, Evangeline said something about a late dinner," Radley remembered. "I know you're probably not hungry, but if you wanna join us. . . ."

Malcolm shrugged. "Maybe I'll take a plate up to my room, if that's allowed."

"Under the circumstances, I'm sure Evangeline wouldn't mind," Radley said.

xxxx

Evangeline was indeed very kind and considerate and allowed Malcolm to take a plate upstairs. The rest of the group gathered in the dining room to eat. It was a somber affair, with no one quite sure what to say for more than a couple of minutes. Finally, however, tired of the attempts at small talk, Yami Bakura spoke up. "What have you learned about the magic items?"

Hans sighed. "There's six altogether. The clock tower is arguably the most powerful, capable of drawing any of the other items to it. There's one supposed to protect from attacks. . . . That must be why he kept beating all of you."

Johnson nodded. "The most disturbing one is the one capable of mind-control, of course. There's also the one that causes amnesia."

"What does the cane do?" Yugi wondered. "Is its only real power shape-shifting?"

"It's mostly a container for the others," Johnson said. "Its power is concealing them from anyone who wants them."

"And then the one other item . . ." Hans frowned. "The book was very vague on its power. It said something about making the user's wishes come true. It only works when all the items are together."

". . . That sounds good, but when it's voodoo I wouldn't trust it," Tristan said.

Evangeline sighed. "Vodun isn't an evil religion," she said. "It's very misunderstood. And it doesn't help when renegade bokors like Dr. Raven corrupt it and use it to harm others."

"Yeah, that really wrecks it," Tristan said.

"I tried to find out about Amelia," Angelique said. "After she got out of prison, she disappeared. No one knows where she is now."

"And I'd say Good Riddance if it wasn't that she'll probably turn up to torment us," Tristan sighed.

"I don't wanna see her anywhere near me," Crump said with a shudder. "I'll never forget how she kept gleefully looking in the freezer window watching me and Kaiba slowly dyin'."

Seto resolutely looked at his plate and did not comment.

"I hated working for my uncle," Angelique said. "And having to be around that woman made it even worse. She was the most twisted witch I'd ever encountered."

"Even worse than Dr. Raven?" Hans frowned.

Angelique nodded. "Dr. Raven does cruel things to achieve his goals, but he isn't absolutely sadistic like Amelia is. She doesn't really care about his goals; she just wants to see people suffer along the way."

"Oh, like Yami Marik," Radley frowned.

"Exactly," Téa sighed.

"What're you guys going to do with Malcolm?" Joey wondered.

"We'll just keep him with us until we go home," Radley said. "Then we'll have to return him to the Facility, of course." He glanced to Kalin. "But I wanna talk to Trudge about those possibilities of parole or other test programs they were considering him for."

Yusei nodded. "There's a new program they're trying out to see if the prisoners can start over and become decent members of society. Businesses can choose to participate and hire them, or they can be given loans to try to build up their own businesses again."

"That's interesting," Radley mused. "It sounds better than parole. I know a lot of ex-cons have trouble getting places to hire them."

"Yusei was instrumental in getting Sector Security to start setting up this program," Akiza said with visible pride.

Kalin smiled. "I'm not surprised. That's exactly the kind of thing you'd think of doing, Yusei."

Yusei smiled too, undeniably pleased. "I just hope it will really work out. It's still in the testing stages."

"It sounds amazing!" Anna said.

"Yes," Hans quietly agreed.

That brought the conversation to a halt again. Of course, Hans was thinking that Lawton should have had a chance at it as well.

The rest of the meal proceeded in awkward silence. At the end, Radley smiled and pushed his chair back. "That was delicious," he praised. "Thank you both. You're being so kind to all of us."

"Oh, we love having guests," Evangeline smiled. Sobering, she added, "I'm just sorry it's not under happier circumstances."

Radley smiled sadly. "Maybe we can come back at a better time."

". . . It's Mardi Gras right now, isn't it?" Scotch spoke up.

"Yes, it is," Evangeline said. "There's so much to see and do right now. I'm sure at least some of you don't feel like celebrating, but if any of you would like to go out, Angelique and I would be happy to take you. It might help you get your mind off of things."

"I've always wondered what it's like," Anna admitted. She couldn't hide the interest and longing in her eyes.

"I have too," Elsa said. She smiled gently. "Come on, why don't we go? Who knows when we'll get another chance."

Anna definitely wanted to. But at the same time, she didn't like to leave Hans behind to mourn. She was sure he wouldn't feel like going out.

Still, he smiled too. "You should go," he encouraged. "New Orleans is an amazing city. There's nothing like Mardi Gras."

"Have you been here before?" Anna asked in surprise.

"Yes, once," he said vaguely.

Scotch looked hopefully to Radley, who chuckled. "Go ahead and go with them," he said. "You should have some fun, Scotch. You've always wanted to come here."

"I guess you and Kalin don't want to come too?" Scotch hesitantly asked.

Radley exchanged a look with Kalin. "Probably not tonight," he said. "Maybe we'll feel up to it tomorrow."

Scotch nodded. "I'll take lots of pictures and videos and tell you all about it!" he said.

"You do that," Kalin said.

Most of the rest of the Bunch opted to go too, as did some of the others. Radley watched as the large group headed for the doors.

"What do you think, Kalin?" he mused. "Will we regret not going tonight?"

Kalin shrugged. "There'll be a lot of walking involved," he pointed out. "Do you feel up to that after escaping a falling building?"

"Yeah, I don't know," Radley sighed. "Somebody needs to stay with Malcolm when he's in our custody. I'm not sure if the Bunch members staying behind really want to stay back or if they're just staying to be with us. All of the Bunch love parties."

Kalin was wondering that too. "Let's try to find out," he said at last. "If they want to go, they should go."

". . . Actually, we should ask Malcolm what he would like to do," Radley said. "I'm sure he wouldn't want to go, and yet it doesn't seem right not to ask him and make sure."

"I guess," Kalin said. "He might be mad we'd even think he might want to."

Radley headed for the stairs. "I'll ask anyway."

On the second floor, he headed down the hall to the room he remembered Malcolm had chosen. The door was closed, but the light was still shining underneath it. He gave a quiet knock.

"Yeah, what is it?" Malcolm gruffly asked. "I'm done with the food, if you want the plate."

"Sure," Radley said. "But what I really came to say is that a lot of the group is deciding to go out to see some Mardi Gras stuff. Kalin and I are probably not going to go tonight, but we wondered if maybe you'd want to . . . to try to get your mind on something else, I mean."

Silence. After a moment the door opened and Malcolm handed him the plate and utensils. He didn't look mad at the invite, just stunned and confused. ". . . Thanks for asking," he said. "I don't think so tonight."

"I didn't think so either, but I wanted to be sure," Radley said as he accepted the items.

"Yeah. I think I'll just . . . stay in here tonight," Malcolm said.

"You do what you need to," Radley said. "If you want to talk, I'm around."

"You've been good to me, Radley," Malcolm said. "Better than I deserve, that's for sure." He sighed. "I don't get how you're so forgiving."

"Sometimes I don't either, but I'm glad I am," Radley said.

"Yeah." Malcolm nodded and slowly shut the door.

Sighing, Radley headed back up the hall with the plate. What a strange and sad day it had been. What next would happen? He was rather afraid to find out.

Kalin met him at the landing. "Well?"

"He doesn't want to go," Radley said. "But he wasn't mad about it. I think he was kind of touched that I asked."

Kalin grunted. "I talked to the other guys. They seemed to feel it would be more fun with us and wanted to wait for us to feel ready to go."

Radley chuckled, touched. "Scotch probably feels that way too, really, but he just couldn't resist being able to go see now anyway."

"Probably." Kalin headed down the stairs.

Radley followed him. "You really wonder how everything's going to turn out for us this time," he said. "What's going to happen next? Who else is after Hans? . . . Are we all going to come through this safe?"

"It's probably this Amelia woman who'll come after him next," Kalin said.

"Yeah, to help Dr. Raven," Radley said. "And because she likes seeing people hurt. But who was the other guy on the phone?" He frowned. "I wonder how long it's going to take us to find out."

"Maybe we really do need to look more seriously at possible suspects from Arendelle," Kalin said. "It could be someone in the royal guard or even just some random angry citizen."

"We'll have to ask Elsa and Anna about that," Radley said.

"Or it could be someone from Hans' kingdom," Kalin said. "What if it's someone so furious feeling that Hans betrayed the Southern Isles' royal family by what he did that they want to get him out of the way?"

Radley shuddered. "I hope it's not something like that, but we shouldn't discount the possibility." He went into the kitchen and set the plate down on the counter. After pondering a moment, he rinsed it and placed it and the utensils in the dishwasher.

"It could even be someone in his family," Kalin said.

"Would they risk the bad publicity?" Radley frowned. "That was always the big thing with Grandma, worrying about publicity and how things would look for the family."

"I know," Kalin said. "And we should ask Hans these questions too."

Radley sighed. "I hate to bother him with it tonight, but we need to know for his own safety as well as ours."

Kalin nodded. "Let's go find him."

Radley was in complete agreement. "Let's hope we don't get lost in this amazing place," he chuckled.

Kalin glanced around. "Let's hope we don't blunder into one of the off-limits areas," he deadpanned.

"Oh, perish the thought," Radley said.

xxxx

It was strange to suddenly go from nothingness to regaining consciousness. As soon as awareness began to return, the pain washed over him in furious determination. "Ugh. . . ." He grimaced, slowly pushing himself upright and reaching to brush the blood away from his left eye.

Something slipped down from over his head and landed on his lap, exposing his bare chest. He looked down in disbelief. A sheet? And he was laying on some hard metal slab. . . .

A swift look around the room confirmed it. He was laying in a morgue.

"Dead?" he muttered. "I was dead?"

He swung his legs off the slab and shakily got down, keeping the sheet wrapped around him as he searched the room. It didn't take long for him to find his clothes, bloodied and bagged. Well, it wouldn't be much fun wearing them right now, but they were still better than some old, unfashionable sheet.

He was still in the process of changing back into them when the attendant came into the room and turned on the lights. A deafening scream and crash later, he was laying on the floor in a dead faint while Lawton stood over him, unimpressed.

"Word of advice—you should be prepared for anything in your line of work," he remarked, his hands on his hips.

Quickly pulling on his vest, he slipped out of the room and down the corridor. Up the other end of the hall, people who had heard the scream were heading towards the morgue. He didn't want to be caught. They might think he had deliberately done something to that guy. And in any case, they would plan to send him back to the Facility if they knew who he was. He wasn't going back.

His head was pounding and he had to pause around another corner to try to quell the pain. He needed to see someone about this. Of course, that would be easy enough in a hospital, but there was still that very real fear of being detained and arrested. He would have to leave here and go somewhere else to be treated. Some private clinic, probably, or at least a different hospital where they wouldn't know him or what had happened.

After a few minutes, he gathered enough strength to keep going and slip out a back door. The January night was cold, especially when he was wounded. But he pulled his vest closer around him and resolutely kept going.

That had certainly been a most un-fun experience. He couldn't deny that the power aspect had been enjoyable, but it hadn't been worth having his body and mind taken over by an outside force. And having a building fall on him hadn't been great either. He had passed out of awareness shortly after everything had started to hit him, but then hadn't known anything until waking up a few minutes ago. Had he really been dead? Or had he just been mistaken for dead?

Well, it didn't matter, really.

And where was he now?

He looked around blearily. Some old street in New Orleans, apparently. Probably the French Quarter. It sounded like Mardi Gras carousing going on nearby.

He stumbled along, grabbing for a lamppost to steady himself. After he got himself patched up, he wanted to know Malcolm and Hans were okay . . . and he supposed they would want to know he was okay too, Malcolm especially. He would let them know and then he would high-tail it out of there before he could get dragged back to the Facility. He would rather be on the run for the rest of his life if it meant being free of that place. Deserved or not, he wasn't going back if he could help it.

Wait . . .

Hans. . . . He already knew Hans wasn't okay. Dr. Raven had told him Hans was dead.

He snarled. And he had been forced into working for the murderer.

Dr. Raven would regret what he had done, to both of them.

He hadn't wanted to take revenge again, but remembering this in his right mind, it was sorely tempting.

As he started to limp along, a feather boa suddenly fell around his shoulders. "Hello, big man," a woman purred.

He managed a smirk. Even badly injured, he could appreciate the sight of a beautiful woman. "Do you know a doctor around here? A real one," he added. "No Mardi Gras doctors or witch doctors. Especially no witch doctors."

"Oh. . . ." Her eyes widened in realization. "You're really hurt. . . . It's not a get-up for Mardi Gras. . . ."

"Nah, not even close. So how about it?" he asked.

She looked worried, like she was thinking. "I know a couple," she said. "Come on, I'll take you." She reached for his hand.

He let her take it and agreeably went.