The blood continued through the lift doors and along the hallway. The second floor seemed just as deserted as the first. No orderlies, no nurses, no doctors and disconcertingly…no patients.

A systematic search of the first floor revealed each office and treatment room to be empty, bathrooms unused and corridors silent. Reception had been unmanned, a great blow to Detective Briggs' new plan.

Harry stayed behind the detective, terrified of what might be lurking around the corner. Briggs' face was creased into deep lines by concentration, he looked exhausted.

The blood diverted ahead into the intensive care unit. As the two men approached ICU the faint beep of a heart rate monitor could be heard. Without exchanging words they quickened their pace. Briggs arrived first and recoiled as a loud gunshot greeted him, the bullet ricocheting off the wall behind. He drew as Harry caught up, yelling;

"Drop the weapon!"

A firearm clattered to the floor, prompting Harry to enter. Dr Kaufmann sat, hands raised, horror haunting his features. The detective kicked the gun to the side of the room.

"I…I thought you were one of them." stuttered Kaufmann.

"One of them?"

"I am on sentry duty. I apologize if I'm a little highly strung."

"A little!? Jesus Kaufmann, you discharged a weapon at a police officer!"

"We have been attacked, I had to defend us from…well…you wouldn't believe me detective."

"We?"

The curtain around the last bed twitched and Nurse Mahoney tentatively pushed her head through, sporting some nasty scratches. Seeing Harry and the detective she pulled back the curtain to reveal Lydia, propped up with a pillow. She was awake. She smiled weakly at him. Harry could barely contain his joy, but he had to wait; the situation was still tense. Briggs held his gun with both hands, still ready to fire.

"Where did you get the gun doctor?"

"I kept it in my drawer downstairs. I was set upon earlier this morning; I have Mr. Mason to thank for saving me then. As I made my way back to the hospital I experienced things Briggs, beyond the earthquake. I didn't think it was possible. I knew I needed it. I found Nurse Mahoney under attack and defended her with necessary force."

"Who attacked you? Did you hurt someone, Doctor Kaufmann? Where are they?"

"Not quite someone Edward, something." interjected Rachel, "They were vicious; they tried to scratch, bite, gouge out my eyes. Even tried to throttle me. Thank God Michael came along when he did."

"What attacked you? Will someone tell me what went on here?"

"It was Edna Gein and a patient. I didn't recognize him."

"You shot Edna? Is she hurt?"

"She wasn't herself, detective." explained Kaufmann, "They were both extremely pale, cold sweat on their skin, eyes glazed …broken blood vessels over their bodies. They didn't speak or respond to speech, just gurgled and moaned."

"Is Edna Gein dead?" demanded Briggs.

"The symptoms were similar to young Albert Lords. But they had progressed significantly and carried a huge growth on their backs."

"I don't think you appreciate the situation Kaufmann. From what you're both saying, you are facing a murder charge here."

"No detective, you don't appreciate the situation. Edna and her accomplice were merely incapacitated by my gun. I examined the growths, which revealed a parasite inside. It would appear our colleague and the patient were being controlled by this parasite."

"Bullshit."

"It was as we attempted to excise the creature that Edna died."

"Has this whole town gone crazy?"

"The parasite seems to have a symbiotic relationship with its host. Kill one, kill both. I wouldn't have thought it possible myself had I not experienced it first hand. It's the only conclusion I can make. I'm sure Coroner Seals would be able to confirm my theory that our orderly, Mr. Lords, was developing the same condition."

"Can I see the bodies?"

"As I took them to the mortuary I encountered others in this state. The Alchemilla is not safe detective."

"Harry! Behind you" wheezed Lydia.

Harry wheeled round to see a distinguished older gentleman in a white coat shuffling toward them.

"Dr. Philips…good to see you're alright. Maybe I can get some sense now." grumbled Briggs.

Dr. Philips lurched forward, staring vacantly.

"Dr. Philips?"

The doctor gurgled and raised his arm. In his hand was a pistol, limply held.

"Drop the weapon!" yelled the detective.

Dr. Philips turned it over with both hands as though he were trying to remember something.

"Drop the weapon! Now!"

Holding the gun the correct way up he pulled the trigger, narrowly missing Harry. Briggs returned fire. Taking the shot in his left knee, the doctor fell forward heavily. A red and sinewy growth the size of a baseball had forced its way through his white coat.

"What the hell is going on?" bellowed Briggs.

At this, Philips began to rise brandishing the weapon. Harry ducked and pressed himself into the wall. Two rounds were squeezed off in succession. One shattered the window behind the unoccupied bed, the other going through Briggs sleeve. The detective retaliated, hitting the shoulder. Philips stumbled but kept hold of his firearm.

"Ed, it's the growth, go for the growth!" cried Rachel.

He opened fire on the hump, hitting it twice. The old man moaned and slumped to the floor. This time he didn't rise.

"Jesus Christ! Can somebody tell me why I just had to shoot Dr. Philips?" asked Briggs.

"The board will have to find a new chairman." noted Kaufmann.

Rachel pushed past everyone, pulling on a pair of latex gloves. Taking care not to kneel in the blood that had pooled by the body, she pulled gently at the largest bullet-made hole in the protrusion. Once the gap was sufficient she reached inside with her thumb and forefinger. She pulled out a small white creature, about the size of a cigar. It was grub-like in appearance with big feelers. It did not move.

"Holy shit!" exclaimed Briggs, "Is it dead?"

"As I said detective; kill one, kill both." reiterated Kaufmann.

"Is this…thing contagious?"

"I don't believe so. Nurse Mahoney and I were exposed some time ago and so far show no symptoms. If I could carry out a post mortem…get some lab work done…perhaps I could determine the cause."

"Can you do that? What do you need?"

"I would need to get to the morgue; I should find the necessary equipment there. As for tests, I have seen no laboratory staff in the hospital this morning…though I have not ventured to the third floor. I can't get that information without them."

"Okay, okay," considered Briggs, "This is what we're going to do. Rachel, you stay with Lydia. Dr. Kaufmann, you and me will take Dr. Phillips down to the morgue where you will do your examination. Mason, I need you to check upstairs for anybody that was injured in the quake. Especially anyone that can do what Dr. Kaufmann needs in the lab. Everyone clear?"

Harry nodded, slightly bamboozled. He still hadn't recovered from being shot at.

"Absolutely no one leaves this hospital," continued the detective, "until we know if this thing is infectious."

"What if casualties from the earthquake come in?" croaked Lydia.

"Dammit!" cursed Briggs, "I knew I should have stayed at the station."

"If we're treating this as a quarantine situation, we have to barricade ourselves in. No one in, no one out." stated Kaufmann

"No!" exclaimed Harry, "People could die out there. Cheryl is still out there."

"I'm sorry Harry," sympathized Rachel, "but he's right. The last thing this town needs is an outbreak of these parasites…though of course it could be too late."

"What?" barked Briggs.

"Others might have been exposed. If Albert Lords had the same thing then his girlfriend has suffered prolonged exposure." she explained.

"Then we have to move quickly. Cybil should return with help in a couple of hours. If we could have this thing cleared up before then, reopen the hospital, then we can manage this crisis." he urged.

"Do I get a gun?" ventured Harry, nervously.

"No." Briggs replied, "Kaufmann and I will be taking our weapons – doctor, please be careful. Rachel and Miss Findly must have some form of defense. That accounts for Dr. Philips' weapon and leaves nothing for you I'm afraid.

Either of you ladies know how to shoot?"

"I've never even held one." admitted Rachel.

"I know." said Lydia, matter of factly.

Everyone looked at the elementary school teacher.

"What? So I belong to the gun club…big deal."

While Briggs was handing out the weapons, Harry started out for the elevator.

"Good luck." Lydia wheezed.

He was going to need it.

Wishing he'd had the opportunity to talk to her, to find out the truth, he called the elevator. It arrived shortly, doors creaking open. Briggs raced toward him as he reluctantly stepped in. He put his hand against the door to prevent the lift from leaving.

"Remember Mason; do not attempt to leave this hospital without my permission. If you find anything, come and get me. And I do not want you to bother Lydia Findly, she's unwell. You hear me Mason?"

"Am I a suspect detective?" asked Harry, brusquely.

Briggs hesitated.

"Just don't go anywhere is all."

He released the doors. Harry was alone. He rode to the third floor and wondered what exactly he was suspected of. And if he was capable of it.

The lights were out on the third floor. He clicked on his torch and pulled the entrance by the lift, finding it locked. Sighing, he stepped back into the elevator.

Five buttons.

He blinked, trying to adjust focus, but they were still there. A button for a fourth floor that he knew did not exist. Trying not to panic, he assured himself it was just a trick. Somebody trying to rattle him, unsettle him. Someone who didn't trust him, trying to get a reaction. Someone like Briggs, or even Kaufmann, sending him up here to a locked door.

But if it was no trick; something else; a message; a sign – then it could be leading him to Cheryl and…

No. That way laid madness. Cheryl certainly wasn't trapped in some alternate reality. He prayed that she was safe somewhere. Cybil's influence…prayer was something he hadn't resorted to for many years.

He pressed the button for the second floor. The elevator did not move. He pressed it again. Nothing. He pressed it several more times. He began to feel anxious. Scared of a button. He pressed for the first floor. No response. Basement the same. It wouldn't even let him out on the floor he was on. Harry felt as though the floor was opening up again, the nightmare calling to him from below.

Tentatively he put his finger to the dreaded number, pushing slowly. The elevator groaned and began to go up.