Entanglement, or the Ghost Field - Part Four: Eminence Front
Title: Eminence Front, Part Four of Entanglement
Author: dracox-serdriel
Acknowledgement: A special thanks to my awesome beta reader, rince1wind
Status: Completed as part of horrorbigbang 2013
Four hours ago. Dean hated hiking, which meant he already hated this case. Sam led the way as they stomped through a few empty fields before reaching the edge of the wooded area that marked the boundary of the Trine.
"Damn it," Sam said.
"What?"
"Smoke," Sam said as he changed direction to follow it. "There's at least one camp."
"How is it that people hear the words 'Bermuda Triangle' and just walk right on into it?"
"This isn't the Bermuda Triangle," Sam replied, "Whatever weird stories people tell about the Trine, they think they're just stories."
"How many people you think are out here?" Dean asked. "Assuming no one takes any of the creepy seriously."
"Statistically, not a lot," Sam said. "A dozen maybe? I don't know. There's just the one emergency shelter in the area. It's meant to support maybe twenty."
"Sammy, wait," Dean said. "Look at this." He hovered by a tree with a carved symbol. "Quincunx. A five-spot, right? Major hoodoo for protection against spirits."
"Looks like it was carved years ago," Sam said, pushing ahead. "Come on."
They came into a semi-open area that had recently been a campsite, but it had clearly been abandoned in a hurry. The fire was still burning, and equipment had been left behind, including sleeping pads, pots, and cooking utensils.
"Bad sign," Dean remarked.
"Okay, so, camping people are packing up. Tents are down, but they've still got a fire, probably for cooking. This could be bears or something," Sam concluded.
"Really, bears?" Dean asked. "So this place has waffs and doppelgangers and bears?"
"Yeah, but this place looks like a bunch of campers got scared and ran off," Sam replied.
Dean made a face but nodded in agreement. "No blood or screaming or bodies in the immediate area. I'll give you that." A buzzing sound drew Dean's attention. "You hear that?"
Sam followed the sound out of the clearing and into a cluster of nearby trees that began the forest in earnest.
"So much for bear," Dean said. He pointed up to a decaying body strewn across the largest branch of tall oak. It would be easy to miss if not for the insect activity.
"Maybe it was a bobcat," Sam suggested. "A really big bobcat."
"Seriously?"
"Bobcats drag their food up into trees," Sam replied.
"Animal Planet?"
Sam nodded.
"Awesome. That could be nature crap," Dean said, "but this sure as hell ain't." He held up his EMF detector, which was oscillating wildly.
"Is that blood or ecto?" Sam asked in reference to a sludge-like substance dripping down the side of the tree.
"Probably ecto," Dean replied. "That camp had at least three people."
"You go west, I'll go south," Sam said.
The next few minutes passed in silence as the brothers fanned out, searching the immediate area for any indication of where the other campers ended up. The clustered trees made it difficult to see anything more than a few feet away at a time.
"Dean!" Sam yelled. "I found them." His tone was telling.
Dean joined his brother to find three bodies, all stretched out as if they had been crawling in their last moments. They were charred, and the smell indicated it was recent.
"Every tree has that symbol carved on it," Sam observed.
"Definitely ecto," Dean said, spotting another splotch of it. "These poor bastards were possessed."
"So, possessed people wind up stuck in a clearing surrounded by hardcore hoodoo warding spells. You think someone burned them?" Sam asked. "I don't think these symbols are strong enough to do this kind of damage on their own."
"Why would anyone light possessed people on fire?" Dean asked. "That's extreme, even for us."
"I dunno," Sam said, "but being burned alive? I qualify that as a violent death."
Dean held out his fist.
"For what?" Sam asked.
"Tree dude," Dean replied.
Sam put out his fist, too, and they shook three times. Sam threw rock, and Dean threw paper.
"You always pick scissors," Sam said suspiciously.
"Saving it up for a very rainy day," Dean replied.
It took Sam ten minutes to knock the body out of the tree. He wrapped it with a blanket from the abandoned campsite and carried it over to the others. He salted the remains.
"Hold on, did you check if these are the people who traveled with Dawn?" Dean asked.
"There're too many of them," Sam replied. "She only had three people with her."
"Yeah, and one of them was in a tree."
Sam shook his head as he pulled out the camera. "We can follow this," Sam added. "Retrace their steps."
"Except most of it is crap," Dean replied as he added accelerant.
"Uh, Dean," Sam prompted.
Spotting the footage, Dean asked, "What did you do?"
"Nothing. I just turned it on."
"We couldn't see any of that before," Dean said. "Is it them? Last chance for a good look."
"Go ahead," Sam said, so Dean started the fire. "Definitely not them."
"You can tell?"
"All the stuff we found around here is mixed-matched," Sam said. "All the gear Dawn's troop had was uniform and new."
"Nancy Drew," Dean muttered. "Okay, we've gone about ten feet in and found hoodoo and four bodies already. I feel good about this, how 'bout you?" he asked sarcastically.
The Old Parkman School. Sam led Molly and Vincent down the east hall. It seemed endless, with dozens of doors between the main hall and the far end.
"So, Agent James," Vincent said, "how did you get on to this? You said you came here looking for our friends."
"Dawn Redding contacted us," Sam said.
Molly asked, "Do you know which Dawn? I mean, from where?"
Sam thought. "Twenty-twelve. Dawn from the universe where it's currently twenty-twelve."
"You say that like it's normal," Vincent replied. "Impressive."
Sam shrugged. "Sorry, it's the only thing I could think - "
"What about the other Dawn?" Molly interrupted.
"I'm sorry," Sam said. "She died."
"You said as much," Molly said sadly. "Just wanted to confirm."
"I'm sorry," Vincent said.
"So, here's how we do this," Sam said, cutting through the tension. "No one checks a room alone. We pop in, sweep it with flashlights, then mark the door when we're done. One of us stays outside the door, keeping the watch and keeping the door open."
"I'll stay outside the first one," Molly offered.
"Vincent? After you."
They ducked into the first room. It was empty and roughly the size of a very small bedroom, about ten by ten.
"Clear," Sam said. "I'll mark this door, you two head into the next."
Molly bit her lip but nodded, moving immediately to the opposite door.
"You okay?" Vincent asked.
"Yeah, fine, let's go," she replied.
They swept the room, which was slightly larger, about twelve by ten.
"Have I said something?" Vincent asked. "I mean, you don't seem to mind Sam, so I was just - "
"No. It's just, my Vince, died less than an hour ago."
"I'm sorry."
"You and your Molly - or Molls - the one from where you're from. Are you together?"
"Uh, no," Vincent replied. "Never have been." He changed the subject. "This room is clear, Sam."
They continued without incident until the seventh room, which was about twelve by fourteen. Inside was the body of Toben Harwell.
"Toben," Vincent whispered.
"Is it your Toben or my Toben?" Molly asked.
"I don't know how to tell," Sam replied. "Looks like he died of a bad head wound, which means it would've been quick at least."
"That's something," Vincent said as he reached down and checked Toben's watch. "I think he was my Toben. I mean, from twenty-twelve."
"You sure?" Molly asked.
"His watch is set to that year," Vincent replied. He turned to his friend. "I'm so sorry, buddy. I'm sorry."
Sam handed Vincent the salt.
"No, uh, no. I can't," Vincent said quietly. "Actually, I might need to be in the hall when you... well, you know."
"You should step out then," Sam said.
Vincent slid the door ajar so he didn't have to watch. His stomach dropped when he heard the match strike, and he closed his eyes to say a prayer for Toben.
It was very cold.
Vincent opened his eyes and met eyes just like his, nose to nose. Confusion and fear bound together in his chest, making it hard to breathe. In the next instant, it felt as if his flesh was on fire, then frozen. Then Vincent Pierce became a puppet, a prisoner in his own mind, and Vince stretched out Vincent's fingers, arms, and legs.
"Ah, to be alive," Vince whispered with Vincent's mouth. "And it's all so me. What could be better?"
"Agent Hetfield," Irwin said as they started down the west hall. "You never said. How did you get here?"
"Call me Dean," Dean replied. "And I told you, we were called in on a case. One death. Three missing people. And a pattern of weird which you've seen with your own eyes."
"I mean, you came here to the Old Parkman School. Why?"
"We were following information provided by Dawn Redding," Dean replied. He stopped at the first door and turned to face Irwin and Gwen. "Do not wander off, even if you think it's just a few feet. Don't do it. Don't disappear around corners. Don't close doors. We check the room, mark the door and leave it open. Got it?"
"This isn't Desert Storm," Gwen said. "You can relax."
"No, this is twenty times worse than Desert Storm," Dean replied. "Stay within sight. Stay in contact. Don't wander off. If you can't do that, we should head back to the lobby. Now."
"I can handle it," Gwen replied. "I'm just not sure if your blood pressure can take it."
"Shut it," Dean said as he opened the first door.
"Is there any pattern?" Irwin asked. "To the rooms?"
"What difference - " Dean asked.
"Dean!" Gwen interjected. "Look. Just - look."
A very solid Candice York was just down the hall. Her body was stretched out across the floor with a puddle of blood around her. She was still tying to crawl. She cried out for help, but no words came out. No sound could be heard from her at all, not even the shuffling of her movements.
"Is she real?" Irwin whispered.
"She's not a ghost," Dean said.
"We've already had to watch her die," Gwen said. "Do we need to again?"
"She's pointing to something," Dean said.
Candice reached one arm as far as she could and pointed two door downs. Her fingers shook and her arm fell.
"Candice," Gwen said the silent woman. "You still owe me that favor. And that dinner from the bet you lost."
"She can't hear you," Dean said.
"You don't know that," Gwen said to Dean. She turned back to Candice. "I don't know what happened to you. I don't know if I even want to find out. But we will find you and make sure you're put to rest. You understand? We won't leave you to rot."
But Candice had already stopped moving. A vacant expression passed over her eyes. The pool of blood around her was deep and dark.
"She's gone," Irwin whispered. "Again."
Gwen went straight to the door and opened it. Irwin and Dean both followed and ducked into the room, leaving Gwen outside. She gave one last glance to Candice's flickering body before joining them.
"Good news," Dean said coldly. "We found someone."
A man's body was scattered throughout the room. Dean was reminded of those weird abstract paintings Sam had tried to explain to him. The colors were off and not from decay. A hand and part of the forearm were by the window. The core of the body was in the far corner.
"Remy," Gwen said. "This is Remy Greenberg."
"How can you tell?" Dean asked. "There's not much left. I don't even see a head."
"Don't talk about him like that," Gwen said. "He is a good man. Was, whatever. And he always had those ridiculous shoes when he went hiking or camping."
She referred to Remy's hiking boots. They were normal save for the trim and lace, which were both a violent shade of red.
"My Remy didn't wear those," Irwin stated quietly. "I'd've remembered."
"No, but let's go with that," Dean said. "I know this is hard, but we need to gather up all of him - everything - and burn it. So," Dean pulled out the medical gloves Jeet had handed off to him. "Use protection."
"Innuendo?" Gwen snapped. "Really? Now?"
Dean smiled. "If only you were from my universe." He stopped for a moment. "Never thought I'd say that."
In the far south of the building, The Doctor and Slade climbed two flights of stairs.
"Funny," Slade commented. "These stairs don't look old enough to warp. And even if they were, it's not like it's damp in here."
"No, they're not warped," The Doctor commented, running his detector and sonic screwdriver. "They're not made of wood, either. Some kind of carbon composite with insulation. For some reason they were put together like this."
"Well, being cheap and low-maintenance is a good enough reason most of the time," Slade replied as he tripped up the stairs.
They reached the top floor, which consisted of a single, long hall running down to a window on the north end. Dozens of doors ran down either side. Each door was different in height and width.
The Doctor paged the com. "Rose, it's me and Slade. Do you have anything on the second floor?"
"No, sorry," Rose replied over the com. "Jeet's building plan was on her handheld, and I can't get it to turn on."
"Anyone bother with a hard copy?" The Doctor asked.
Another voice replied over the com. "I left a large green duffel under that tall table. There's a printed schematic in there. It's a little old."
"Who's that?" Rose asked.
"Sorry, this is Sam."
"Thanks Sam. I'll take a look and get back to you, Doctor," Rose replied.
"Lovely," The Doctor said.
Slade considered The Doctor for a moment as they walked down the hall. "Why does she call you that?" he asked.
"What?"
"Rose. She calls you Doctor."
"Yes she does," The Doctor replied.
"Why's that?"
"Because she can."
"So it's a nickname?"
The Doctor smiled but didn't reply. He leaned into the northern window to get a better look. "That's not entirely impossible, just very nearly so," he whispered to himself.
"What is?"
"According to my detector, there are time distortions, but space is fine."
"So what?"
"Well, we only climbed two flights, didn't we?"
"That I counted."
"So how is it we're on the fifth floor?"
"We're not," Slade replied.
"Take a peek. Go on, see for yourself."
"Ah, well, trick of the light," Slade dismissed.
"What light?"
"Fine, trick of the dark," Slade corrected.
"You said she was dead!" a voiced heralded loudly, making both jerk around.
Two identical men stood opposite each other. The one speaking brandished a mean-looking hunting knife.
The Doctor held his detector in their general direction. "Major time echo," he said. "Do you know who that is?"
Slade shook his head. "They said two men were missing, Toben and Remy, right? So - "
The echo interrupted him. "You said Candice was dead!"
"She was! She had no pulse! I tried to revive her for four minutes, but nothing worked!"
"What did you do to her?"
"Nothing!"
"She just woke up," the knife-bearing man said, advancing on the other. "She woke up and looked at me, like she was asking how I could leave her for dead."
"I'm telling you - "
"She had a pulse! I felt it."
"That's not possible, she had no pulse for over four minutes, I swear to you - "
"Candice looked right at me. She was terrified. What did you do to her, you bastard? What are you?"
"We're the same person," the other replied. "And if my Candice had died, I'd be angry, too, but whatever happened to her, I had nothing to do with it. She collapsed. I tried to save her. I swear to you I did."
The other tried to reach out and touch the knife-wielding man, who responded with a brutal slash down his forearm. The injured man reeled away and fell into the nearest wall, grabbing his arm and howling in pain.
"Tell me what you are!" the violent man yelled as he raised his bloody weapon.
"Toben..." the injured man pleaded. Then he stared at his arm in surprise. There wasn't any blood. The cut was solid scar tissue.
"I knew it! You aren't human! You're things sent to kill us!"
The assailant charged at his wounded counterpart, but then both of them vanished.
"Is it just me, or are those things getting clearer?" Slade asked.
"That's not the only thing," The Doctor replied. "The temporal distortions are much worse than I thought. That scar on his arm, how Candice died - "
"You know how she died?"
"After seeing that gem, I've an idea," The Doctor replied. "For that injury to heal over immediately, that means the temporal distortions are much smaller, more precise, than I originally thought. It's not just the life cycle of a single organism. Otherwise that injured man would've put on about ten years to go with his scar."
"You're speaking gibberish. Are you trying to say time somehow fast-forwarded on his wound?"
"Just on the skin of that one arm, judging by the additional sun damage," The Doctor. "And if I had to guess - and without a body to examine, that's all I can do - I'd say Candice died because her heart was caught in a time loop. Explains why she didn't have a pulse for several minutes, then she did."
"So she died of heart failure?"
"Technically, it would be hypoxia," The Doctor replied. "Her heart didn't fail, it just got caught in a loop apart from the rest of her body. The organ was functioning just fine - well, it would have to, because it eventually started pumping blood again. That's how she woke up. That's why she looked so horrified when she opened her eyes. Severe brain damage for one."
Slade looked paler than usual. "First she suffocated, then she became conscious again after most of her body had already died?"
"'Fraid so," The Doctor replied. "Just conjecture, obviously, but that would explain what we've seen."
"You do this a lot, do you? Deal with horrible deaths?"
The Doctor considered Slade's words. "Someone has to," he replied. "Understanding her pain or death is sometimes the only thing we can do for someone like Candice."
"And you're okay with that?"
"I do everything I can," The Doctor replied. "It's almost never enough. I've had to accept that."
"That's not an answer."
The Doctor paged the com. "Everyone, step lightly. There are more temporal distortions than I thought."
"What about you?" Jeet paged back.
"Slade and I will be down as soon as we can. Might be a bit longer than the others," The Doctor said. "But we're fine. Pretty sure this whole place is empty."
The Doctor waved to the closest door. "Well? What do you say, Slade?"
Navigation
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Part Five: Ricochet
AUTHOR'S NOTES
Eminence Front (The Who)
The drinks flow, people forget
That big wheel spins, the hair thins
People forget, forget they're hiding
The news slows, people forget
The shares crash, hopes are dashed
People forget, forget they're hiding
Behind an eminence front
Author: dracox-serdriel
Acknowledgement: A special thanks to my awesome beta reader, rince1wind
Status: Completed as part of horrorbigbang 2013
Four hours ago. Dean hated hiking, which meant he already hated this case. Sam led the way as they stomped through a few empty fields before reaching the edge of the wooded area that marked the boundary of the Trine.
"Damn it," Sam said.
"What?"
"Smoke," Sam said as he changed direction to follow it. "There's at least one camp."
"How is it that people hear the words 'Bermuda Triangle' and just walk right on into it?"
"This isn't the Bermuda Triangle," Sam replied, "Whatever weird stories people tell about the Trine, they think they're just stories."
"How many people you think are out here?" Dean asked. "Assuming no one takes any of the creepy seriously."
"Statistically, not a lot," Sam said. "A dozen maybe? I don't know. There's just the one emergency shelter in the area. It's meant to support maybe twenty."
"Sammy, wait," Dean said. "Look at this." He hovered by a tree with a carved symbol. "Quincunx. A five-spot, right? Major hoodoo for protection against spirits."
"Looks like it was carved years ago," Sam said, pushing ahead. "Come on."
They came into a semi-open area that had recently been a campsite, but it had clearly been abandoned in a hurry. The fire was still burning, and equipment had been left behind, including sleeping pads, pots, and cooking utensils.
"Bad sign," Dean remarked.
"Okay, so, camping people are packing up. Tents are down, but they've still got a fire, probably for cooking. This could be bears or something," Sam concluded.
"Really, bears?" Dean asked. "So this place has waffs and doppelgangers and bears?"
"Yeah, but this place looks like a bunch of campers got scared and ran off," Sam replied.
Dean made a face but nodded in agreement. "No blood or screaming or bodies in the immediate area. I'll give you that." A buzzing sound drew Dean's attention. "You hear that?"
Sam followed the sound out of the clearing and into a cluster of nearby trees that began the forest in earnest.
"So much for bear," Dean said. He pointed up to a decaying body strewn across the largest branch of tall oak. It would be easy to miss if not for the insect activity.
"Maybe it was a bobcat," Sam suggested. "A really big bobcat."
"Seriously?"
"Bobcats drag their food up into trees," Sam replied.
"Animal Planet?"
Sam nodded.
"Awesome. That could be nature crap," Dean said, "but this sure as hell ain't." He held up his EMF detector, which was oscillating wildly.
"Is that blood or ecto?" Sam asked in reference to a sludge-like substance dripping down the side of the tree.
"Probably ecto," Dean replied. "That camp had at least three people."
"You go west, I'll go south," Sam said.
The next few minutes passed in silence as the brothers fanned out, searching the immediate area for any indication of where the other campers ended up. The clustered trees made it difficult to see anything more than a few feet away at a time.
"Dean!" Sam yelled. "I found them." His tone was telling.
Dean joined his brother to find three bodies, all stretched out as if they had been crawling in their last moments. They were charred, and the smell indicated it was recent.
"Every tree has that symbol carved on it," Sam observed.
"Definitely ecto," Dean said, spotting another splotch of it. "These poor bastards were possessed."
"So, possessed people wind up stuck in a clearing surrounded by hardcore hoodoo warding spells. You think someone burned them?" Sam asked. "I don't think these symbols are strong enough to do this kind of damage on their own."
"Why would anyone light possessed people on fire?" Dean asked. "That's extreme, even for us."
"I dunno," Sam said, "but being burned alive? I qualify that as a violent death."
Dean held out his fist.
"For what?" Sam asked.
"Tree dude," Dean replied.
Sam put out his fist, too, and they shook three times. Sam threw rock, and Dean threw paper.
"You always pick scissors," Sam said suspiciously.
"Saving it up for a very rainy day," Dean replied.
It took Sam ten minutes to knock the body out of the tree. He wrapped it with a blanket from the abandoned campsite and carried it over to the others. He salted the remains.
"Hold on, did you check if these are the people who traveled with Dawn?" Dean asked.
"There're too many of them," Sam replied. "She only had three people with her."
"Yeah, and one of them was in a tree."
Sam shook his head as he pulled out the camera. "We can follow this," Sam added. "Retrace their steps."
"Except most of it is crap," Dean replied as he added accelerant.
"Uh, Dean," Sam prompted.
Spotting the footage, Dean asked, "What did you do?"
"Nothing. I just turned it on."
"We couldn't see any of that before," Dean said. "Is it them? Last chance for a good look."
"Go ahead," Sam said, so Dean started the fire. "Definitely not them."
"You can tell?"
"All the stuff we found around here is mixed-matched," Sam said. "All the gear Dawn's troop had was uniform and new."
"Nancy Drew," Dean muttered. "Okay, we've gone about ten feet in and found hoodoo and four bodies already. I feel good about this, how 'bout you?" he asked sarcastically.
The Old Parkman School. Sam led Molly and Vincent down the east hall. It seemed endless, with dozens of doors between the main hall and the far end.
"So, Agent James," Vincent said, "how did you get on to this? You said you came here looking for our friends."
"Dawn Redding contacted us," Sam said.
Molly asked, "Do you know which Dawn? I mean, from where?"
Sam thought. "Twenty-twelve. Dawn from the universe where it's currently twenty-twelve."
"You say that like it's normal," Vincent replied. "Impressive."
Sam shrugged. "Sorry, it's the only thing I could think - "
"What about the other Dawn?" Molly interrupted.
"I'm sorry," Sam said. "She died."
"You said as much," Molly said sadly. "Just wanted to confirm."
"I'm sorry," Vincent said.
"So, here's how we do this," Sam said, cutting through the tension. "No one checks a room alone. We pop in, sweep it with flashlights, then mark the door when we're done. One of us stays outside the door, keeping the watch and keeping the door open."
"I'll stay outside the first one," Molly offered.
"Vincent? After you."
They ducked into the first room. It was empty and roughly the size of a very small bedroom, about ten by ten.
"Clear," Sam said. "I'll mark this door, you two head into the next."
Molly bit her lip but nodded, moving immediately to the opposite door.
"You okay?" Vincent asked.
"Yeah, fine, let's go," she replied.
They swept the room, which was slightly larger, about twelve by ten.
"Have I said something?" Vincent asked. "I mean, you don't seem to mind Sam, so I was just - "
"No. It's just, my Vince, died less than an hour ago."
"I'm sorry."
"You and your Molly - or Molls - the one from where you're from. Are you together?"
"Uh, no," Vincent replied. "Never have been." He changed the subject. "This room is clear, Sam."
They continued without incident until the seventh room, which was about twelve by fourteen. Inside was the body of Toben Harwell.
"Toben," Vincent whispered.
"Is it your Toben or my Toben?" Molly asked.
"I don't know how to tell," Sam replied. "Looks like he died of a bad head wound, which means it would've been quick at least."
"That's something," Vincent said as he reached down and checked Toben's watch. "I think he was my Toben. I mean, from twenty-twelve."
"You sure?" Molly asked.
"His watch is set to that year," Vincent replied. He turned to his friend. "I'm so sorry, buddy. I'm sorry."
Sam handed Vincent the salt.
"No, uh, no. I can't," Vincent said quietly. "Actually, I might need to be in the hall when you... well, you know."
"You should step out then," Sam said.
Vincent slid the door ajar so he didn't have to watch. His stomach dropped when he heard the match strike, and he closed his eyes to say a prayer for Toben.
It was very cold.
Vincent opened his eyes and met eyes just like his, nose to nose. Confusion and fear bound together in his chest, making it hard to breathe. In the next instant, it felt as if his flesh was on fire, then frozen. Then Vincent Pierce became a puppet, a prisoner in his own mind, and Vince stretched out Vincent's fingers, arms, and legs.
"Ah, to be alive," Vince whispered with Vincent's mouth. "And it's all so me. What could be better?"
"Agent Hetfield," Irwin said as they started down the west hall. "You never said. How did you get here?"
"Call me Dean," Dean replied. "And I told you, we were called in on a case. One death. Three missing people. And a pattern of weird which you've seen with your own eyes."
"I mean, you came here to the Old Parkman School. Why?"
"We were following information provided by Dawn Redding," Dean replied. He stopped at the first door and turned to face Irwin and Gwen. "Do not wander off, even if you think it's just a few feet. Don't do it. Don't disappear around corners. Don't close doors. We check the room, mark the door and leave it open. Got it?"
"This isn't Desert Storm," Gwen said. "You can relax."
"No, this is twenty times worse than Desert Storm," Dean replied. "Stay within sight. Stay in contact. Don't wander off. If you can't do that, we should head back to the lobby. Now."
"I can handle it," Gwen replied. "I'm just not sure if your blood pressure can take it."
"Shut it," Dean said as he opened the first door.
"Is there any pattern?" Irwin asked. "To the rooms?"
"What difference - " Dean asked.
"Dean!" Gwen interjected. "Look. Just - look."
A very solid Candice York was just down the hall. Her body was stretched out across the floor with a puddle of blood around her. She was still tying to crawl. She cried out for help, but no words came out. No sound could be heard from her at all, not even the shuffling of her movements.
"Is she real?" Irwin whispered.
"She's not a ghost," Dean said.
"We've already had to watch her die," Gwen said. "Do we need to again?"
"She's pointing to something," Dean said.
Candice reached one arm as far as she could and pointed two door downs. Her fingers shook and her arm fell.
"Candice," Gwen said the silent woman. "You still owe me that favor. And that dinner from the bet you lost."
"She can't hear you," Dean said.
"You don't know that," Gwen said to Dean. She turned back to Candice. "I don't know what happened to you. I don't know if I even want to find out. But we will find you and make sure you're put to rest. You understand? We won't leave you to rot."
But Candice had already stopped moving. A vacant expression passed over her eyes. The pool of blood around her was deep and dark.
"She's gone," Irwin whispered. "Again."
Gwen went straight to the door and opened it. Irwin and Dean both followed and ducked into the room, leaving Gwen outside. She gave one last glance to Candice's flickering body before joining them.
"Good news," Dean said coldly. "We found someone."
A man's body was scattered throughout the room. Dean was reminded of those weird abstract paintings Sam had tried to explain to him. The colors were off and not from decay. A hand and part of the forearm were by the window. The core of the body was in the far corner.
"Remy," Gwen said. "This is Remy Greenberg."
"How can you tell?" Dean asked. "There's not much left. I don't even see a head."
"Don't talk about him like that," Gwen said. "He is a good man. Was, whatever. And he always had those ridiculous shoes when he went hiking or camping."
She referred to Remy's hiking boots. They were normal save for the trim and lace, which were both a violent shade of red.
"My Remy didn't wear those," Irwin stated quietly. "I'd've remembered."
"No, but let's go with that," Dean said. "I know this is hard, but we need to gather up all of him - everything - and burn it. So," Dean pulled out the medical gloves Jeet had handed off to him. "Use protection."
"Innuendo?" Gwen snapped. "Really? Now?"
Dean smiled. "If only you were from my universe." He stopped for a moment. "Never thought I'd say that."
In the far south of the building, The Doctor and Slade climbed two flights of stairs.
"Funny," Slade commented. "These stairs don't look old enough to warp. And even if they were, it's not like it's damp in here."
"No, they're not warped," The Doctor commented, running his detector and sonic screwdriver. "They're not made of wood, either. Some kind of carbon composite with insulation. For some reason they were put together like this."
"Well, being cheap and low-maintenance is a good enough reason most of the time," Slade replied as he tripped up the stairs.
They reached the top floor, which consisted of a single, long hall running down to a window on the north end. Dozens of doors ran down either side. Each door was different in height and width.
The Doctor paged the com. "Rose, it's me and Slade. Do you have anything on the second floor?"
"No, sorry," Rose replied over the com. "Jeet's building plan was on her handheld, and I can't get it to turn on."
"Anyone bother with a hard copy?" The Doctor asked.
Another voice replied over the com. "I left a large green duffel under that tall table. There's a printed schematic in there. It's a little old."
"Who's that?" Rose asked.
"Sorry, this is Sam."
"Thanks Sam. I'll take a look and get back to you, Doctor," Rose replied.
"Lovely," The Doctor said.
Slade considered The Doctor for a moment as they walked down the hall. "Why does she call you that?" he asked.
"What?"
"Rose. She calls you Doctor."
"Yes she does," The Doctor replied.
"Why's that?"
"Because she can."
"So it's a nickname?"
The Doctor smiled but didn't reply. He leaned into the northern window to get a better look. "That's not entirely impossible, just very nearly so," he whispered to himself.
"What is?"
"According to my detector, there are time distortions, but space is fine."
"So what?"
"Well, we only climbed two flights, didn't we?"
"That I counted."
"So how is it we're on the fifth floor?"
"We're not," Slade replied.
"Take a peek. Go on, see for yourself."
"Ah, well, trick of the light," Slade dismissed.
"What light?"
"Fine, trick of the dark," Slade corrected.
"You said she was dead!" a voiced heralded loudly, making both jerk around.
Two identical men stood opposite each other. The one speaking brandished a mean-looking hunting knife.
The Doctor held his detector in their general direction. "Major time echo," he said. "Do you know who that is?"
Slade shook his head. "They said two men were missing, Toben and Remy, right? So - "
The echo interrupted him. "You said Candice was dead!"
"She was! She had no pulse! I tried to revive her for four minutes, but nothing worked!"
"What did you do to her?"
"Nothing!"
"She just woke up," the knife-bearing man said, advancing on the other. "She woke up and looked at me, like she was asking how I could leave her for dead."
"I'm telling you - "
"She had a pulse! I felt it."
"That's not possible, she had no pulse for over four minutes, I swear to you - "
"Candice looked right at me. She was terrified. What did you do to her, you bastard? What are you?"
"We're the same person," the other replied. "And if my Candice had died, I'd be angry, too, but whatever happened to her, I had nothing to do with it. She collapsed. I tried to save her. I swear to you I did."
The other tried to reach out and touch the knife-wielding man, who responded with a brutal slash down his forearm. The injured man reeled away and fell into the nearest wall, grabbing his arm and howling in pain.
"Tell me what you are!" the violent man yelled as he raised his bloody weapon.
"Toben..." the injured man pleaded. Then he stared at his arm in surprise. There wasn't any blood. The cut was solid scar tissue.
"I knew it! You aren't human! You're things sent to kill us!"
The assailant charged at his wounded counterpart, but then both of them vanished.
"Is it just me, or are those things getting clearer?" Slade asked.
"That's not the only thing," The Doctor replied. "The temporal distortions are much worse than I thought. That scar on his arm, how Candice died - "
"You know how she died?"
"After seeing that gem, I've an idea," The Doctor replied. "For that injury to heal over immediately, that means the temporal distortions are much smaller, more precise, than I originally thought. It's not just the life cycle of a single organism. Otherwise that injured man would've put on about ten years to go with his scar."
"You're speaking gibberish. Are you trying to say time somehow fast-forwarded on his wound?"
"Just on the skin of that one arm, judging by the additional sun damage," The Doctor. "And if I had to guess - and without a body to examine, that's all I can do - I'd say Candice died because her heart was caught in a time loop. Explains why she didn't have a pulse for several minutes, then she did."
"So she died of heart failure?"
"Technically, it would be hypoxia," The Doctor replied. "Her heart didn't fail, it just got caught in a loop apart from the rest of her body. The organ was functioning just fine - well, it would have to, because it eventually started pumping blood again. That's how she woke up. That's why she looked so horrified when she opened her eyes. Severe brain damage for one."
Slade looked paler than usual. "First she suffocated, then she became conscious again after most of her body had already died?"
"'Fraid so," The Doctor replied. "Just conjecture, obviously, but that would explain what we've seen."
"You do this a lot, do you? Deal with horrible deaths?"
The Doctor considered Slade's words. "Someone has to," he replied. "Understanding her pain or death is sometimes the only thing we can do for someone like Candice."
"And you're okay with that?"
"I do everything I can," The Doctor replied. "It's almost never enough. I've had to accept that."
"That's not an answer."
The Doctor paged the com. "Everyone, step lightly. There are more temporal distortions than I thought."
"What about you?" Jeet paged back.
"Slade and I will be down as soon as we can. Might be a bit longer than the others," The Doctor said. "But we're fine. Pretty sure this whole place is empty."
The Doctor waved to the closest door. "Well? What do you say, Slade?"
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AUTHOR'S NOTES
Eminence Front (The Who)
The drinks flow, people forget
That big wheel spins, the hair thins
People forget, forget they're hiding
The news slows, people forget
The shares crash, hopes are dashed
People forget, forget they're hiding
Behind an eminence front