Blood Moon ( Cacophony x VanMordoc )

[VanMordoc]

Sargent Mordoc was knelt down on the pavement with his knee in the back of a homeless mongrel's back. Two other officers struggled to keep the frenzied bum's arms wrenched behind his filthy back. With one broad paw shoving the man's head sideways against the rough grit of the oily blacktop he reached to the back of his belt and brought out his cuffs. Disturbed only scraped the surface of the iceberg that chilled Officer Van Mordoc's heart. He could see the bum's milky white retinas rolling around in his head as he squirmed and strained underneath. The mongrel's cheeks were caked with blood and fur, not all of the blood was from the victim either since Van noticed he had bitten off his own tongue.

Red, white, and blue lights strobbed around the small and startled crowd of onlookers in the parking lot of a 7/11. Some were crying, others were murmuring hushed voices, and one man (an adult of about 25, feline, 5'9", wearing jeans and a t-shirt) who was standing over his bleeding friend mewling "Oh my God-Oh my God" over and over. One of the officers stood over the victim while he tried to stop the bleeding from a bite wound. The officer was still huffing and puffing from the effort it took to peel the bum from the victim and bring him down, dark blood oozed through his clenched fingers.

"We need an ambulance and a transport truck here NOW, dispatch! Both the victim and the perp need to be taken to the hospital," said the cop at the bleeding man's side. "We've got a 10-22, possibly drug related assault! Victim is in critical condition... hold on buddy! Keep breathin'!" Officer Neville was his name, a very... squat, meaty bulldog of a man. A good officer, just plus a few dozen doughnuts.

"What... the... fuck." Officer Mordoc muttered to himself, standing back up after he had secured the bloody mutt. Jaws snapping shut in a rhythmic staccato. Cold, wolfish gaze scanned the small crowd of people. He did his absolute best to remain composed, never in his career had he seen this level of carnage. "Everybody stand back!"

 

[Cacophony]

Somewhere through the haze of a coffee break turned into a catnap, a voice cut through dreams of a vacation in Tahiti. "Hey Doc! You sleeping on the job or what?" Renee jerked her head up, a twinge in her neck reminded her she must have been dozing over some paperwork that was still overdue and for that matter had not even been looked at. She grinned sheepishly at the nurse, a motherly rabbit who had be approaching 60. With a smile, the nurse dropped a container of Chinese take out on the stack in front of her. "Day's not over yet hun. ER triage is full, they're pulling up cots in the halls and dispatch has some more coming in. Wolf that down and you're good to go."

"You're too good to me, know that?" Renee said, half muffled as she shoveled lukewarm lo main into her mouth. The food was gone in a moment, and she wiped the remnants from her tan and brown fur with a crumpled napkin from the pile on the table. "What it, a full moon or something? We've got more people in here then New Years Eve." Renee stood up and deposited her papers into a locker with her name on it. She flicked the combination lock deftly and stared up at the clock. "I've got another ten minutes but I may as well get back on the floor. Maybe I'll get home before the sun comes up today." She laughed and pulled her hair back into a bun.

She was a canine mix, her ears strongly suggested she was some kind of spaniel. As she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes the break room speaker blared. Through the door she could see it, as if the hallway had suddenly come alive. There were nurses, EMTs, and of all things the police running about. "Shit, looks like we've got something..." She grabbed her ID lanyard and rushed out into the hall.

The EMTs from the ambulance looked rather grim as they rushed two stretchers down the hall. Renee looked down at the creatures on the stretchers. Even through his fur the male on the stretcher looked almost ashen. The EMTs had done a pretty good job of wrapping him up to stem the bleeding, but he had lost a lot of blood. "He's going into shock. Get a team on him, make sure that the bleeding's stopped." She turned her attention to the other male, who even in handcuffs and strapped to a backboard was thrashing around on his stretcher, throwing the whole cart off balance. Blood oozed from his mouth and he smelled of something wholly unnatural. "He's high on something, put in a blood test on him! And make sure his heads down tight, we're going to have to get that sewn up, and soon." She winced at the sight of his mouth, his tongue was missing and he had chewed at part of his cheeks. Everything was oozing, and with the continuous snapping it was almost impossible to determine what if anything was only superficial. "Get me a sedative, he needs stitches, and nobodies going to get anywhere near him in this state!" She yelled as they wheeled the carts into the back.

 

[VanMordoc]

Van rode down Main in his police cruiser, the growl of the '07 Mustang's engine seemed distant in the background to his deep thoughts. How could a man just snap like that? He was homeless, sure, and most of them were mentally defective in one way or another... Never had many problems with the few passing through Wilsonville; petty theft, trespassing, panhandleing. Drugs, maybe? Sure, meth was a problem in a city this size just like all over the rest of the country but to have an absolute psychotic outburst like that without PCP mixed in too? He'd heard of a junkie being shot three times in the chest after eating their girlfriend's face and not going down. nothing like that had ever happened here before.

That sounded the most plausible, but something didn't sit right with him. The unusual strength combined with the lack of situational awareness. Hell, the man chewed off his own tongue and some of his lips-as well as assaulting a strong, healthy man and his friend. The blood-loss alone should render a normal person too incapacitated. This was too weird for a city like this.

He snapped back to reality just in time to flip his lights on and make an illegal left turn at a red light. Didn't matter, the streets were normally deserted by 1am on a Tuesday, he should get there just behind the ambulance. Van revved the engine as he took the corner, trying to make good time. He had to stay behind to take the report of the victim's friend who witnessed the attack. Probably boyfriend, he thought, based on the reaction and body language. The purple t-shirt with a rainbow logo and "Gay Pride" stenciled below gave him a clue. Whatever, it wasn't his job to judge, didn't affect his life in the least.

Van pulled in the back of the ER wing of the hospital out of the way of yet another ambulance pulling in. He'd seen some busy nights, usually at a full moon or New Years a few years back, this one had to be the busiest. There was supposed to be a lunar eclipse tomorrow, maybe it was just coincidence.

"Did the Vic make it, Tom?" Van asked. He was a full foot and a half taller than the squat Officer Neville, leaner and more muscular. Over 6 feet of timber wolf, whose intimidating yellow gaze was beset by black to brown and white fur that almost made him look like an Alaskan husky-though both his parents were from the Iron Range in Minnesota.

"N-no-huh-yes! He did make it here Sarge... he nearly bled out on the ride over. Uh, comatose... but they stopped the bleedin' and doc said he was damn lucky that guy didn't pierce his Jugular, whatever that is" Said Neville, eyes fixed on the coffee grasped in his meaty paw.

"Too bad, he could have told us more about what happened. His buddy was still in the store buying condoms and Redbull when it went down." Van glanced at the cup and sniffed deeply the tepid, unappealing aroma of the hospital coffee. "Coffee any good tonight?"

"Hell no, weak as coyote piss. Think Judy's made the last pot." Neville swirled his cup, managing to spill a drip over the edge to the floor. "Get a cup, I'll meet you in the ER, room 204. Doc says she needs to talk with you about our 'mad dog'"

Van curled his lip, "I think I could go for something stronger..." He barked laughter in surprise as his co-worker pulled out a small flask from his cargo pocket, grabbing it up. "I'll forget I saw that so long as you keep being a shitty cop."

"Fuck you, Sarge... lets go for a walk upstairs, eh?" Neville shook his head and managed a weak grin.

 

[Cacophony]

The trash can was full, and Renee dropped the Styrofoam cup she had been holding into the basket behind the nurses station. No more coffee, at this rate she'd be stuck working doubles and may actually be awake for it. The coffee down in the cafeteria was little more then bottom of the pot been brewing for the last 12 hours sludge. It looked and tasted like mud but packed one hell of a punch. She grimaced, and leaned her elbows on the edge of the nurses station. "So, now that I've got more then twenty seconds, give me a quick rundown on something with a bit of normalcy."

Janet, a feline with a pinched face laughed. "That eclipse sure is something. Danny the Drunk was in here again. A bus picked him up from the bar on Lawrence Ave earlier, he broke a pool cue over the bouncer, so Jim busted up his nose. Nothing serious, so we sent him over to lockup. Looks like they're just trying to avoid another lawsuit. Had a few college kids, and some Wed MD subscribers. a fender bender and some overflow from Rhodes MC. But nothing like what flew in here before. Did you take a look at that guy's charts?"

"Well, that's why I'm here sucking down this slime. I've got to go meet with the cops. I don't even know what we're going to do with this guy."

She spun on her heels, and headed back to the temporary rooms. The cat, Keith Johnson had already been admitted to the ICU. She had gotten the bleeding stopped, and they'd patched him up, but she suggested that he stay overnight for observation. He'd lost a lot of blood, and if he split the stitches or spiked a fever at least they'd know about it right away. Bite wounds were easily infected, between the condition of the wound and the unknown state of the assailant that was a pretty high possibility. But this John Doe, he was something else. They'd stuck him with tranquilizers, muscle relaxers, whatever they cold get their hands on and he wouldn't slow. Eventually, they ran out of time, strapped his head down and jaws open and sewed his mouth up while he was awake. Fuckin' Christ, and he just kept thrashing around not a word of English or anything else. She'd never seen anything like it.

She paused by the bed where he was trussed up tighter then a Christmas tree on a car roof. As she approached the bed, those milky eyes followed her. Though he seemed to have calmed down a bit, his jerking movements and silence truly unnerved her. It was just...unnatural. Pages of the chart gave her no insight into this patient. He was homeless, without and ID, and the tox screen results still were not back. Even his general vitals had been nearly impossible to obtain.

There was noise behind her, and she turned to see two uniformed men enter, a squat little dog of a man and the sergeant. Here and there she'd run into him, either between transporting a perp or throwing a few stitches from a downtown scuffle. Her eyes met the wolf's and she managed to crack a half smile.

"Good to see you again Officer Mordoc, sorry the circumstances couldn't be better. I'm not sure if you had gotten any ID on this guy yet. I'm still waiting on the tox screen and I sent blood samples over to Pathology. Strangest case I've seen, well, ever." She paused, now that didn't come out quite as professional as she had intended. "His vitals are impossibly low, and he didn't respond to any of the medications we administered. To save you the gory details, I stitched this guy up awake. Barely winced. I suspect that he swallowed that missing portion of his tongue. The staff is afraid to keep him here and to be honest, I don't have a mental ward equipped for this kind of thing. He'd have to be transported to Rhodes. It's not a good idea to put him in lockup, he'll split those stitches before he sobers up I suspect. So what's the word on the street with these new drugs, have you seen anything like this, or similar?"

 

[VanMordoc]

Van quickly slipped something metallic and silver into his coat pocket and brought out his trusty notepad and pen. He returned the smile and gave her a wink, avoiding having to look at the tattered man strapped to the gurney.

"Good to see you too Renee, it's no trouble. Never really good news when we have to come for this sort of thing, but I always enjoy our little conversations..." He wrote quickly in scribble that would make his high school English teacher spin in her grave. Uttering 'mhmm's and 'uh-huh's as she reported John Doe's condition. A moment after she stopped talking, he finished writing, making a bit of a show dotting the last period before he looked up.

"Unresponsive to pain, lowered pulse and respiration... heavy duty opiates, sounds like. Completely resistant to tranquilizers and muscle relaxers-I assume-unusally strong... doesn't seem to be aware of his surroundings, psychotic aggression. Then I might guess a combination of PCP, Meth, and or Bath Salts, but all three should be making his heart play like Neil Peart and he should be pouring sweat! He hasn't even broken a single bead, it took me and 3 of my officers to take him down... and you could barely find his vitals?" Van scoffed and lifted his cap to wipe a bit of sweat himself, the hospital felt unusually hot to him. He didn't notice the look of baffled fear that only just now broke the facade of cool and reserved mask he wore since it all happened.

"Honestly... Renee, I've been doing this for almost 15 years. Wilsonville is a college town of twenty-five thousand, a lot of drugs come through here. I've never seen anything do... this!" He gestured to the still squirming man, growling low and muddy.

Officer Neville looked just as worried and confused, he shook his head and shrugged. "Neither have I Doc, i didn't think we'd ever get that bum off that kid! He had 'em by the neck like a vice..."

 

[Cacophony]

"You're a sight for sore eyes yourself Mordoc. It's been one hell of a night. Especially this case, to be honest I've never seen anything like it. To put it in layman's terms, with those vitals he should be comatose." She shifted uncomfortably, something about the patient wasn't right at all. The symptoms and the statistics just didn't add up. Even more unnerving, the male was watching them with a glaring intensity, the guttural noises grew only louder as he strained at his bonds. The cot creaked, and Renee winced. "It's going to be difficult to transport him, he's damn dangerous and we just don't have the facilities to accommodate a patient like this." She flipped through the charts again, but there was nothing her expert eyes missed the first time. "We may be able to keep him for the night, at least until the morning, I'm hoping to have the tox screen in by then. We've got to get him to Rhodes they've got a psych ward locked down like a fallout shelter, if you can spare an officer in the morning I think it would be best to have someone accompany the bus if he doesn't start to come down."

At that moment, she wanted nothing more then to be out of that room, away from the milky gaze in the mutilated face. She spent years in medical school and had even spent a few years at Rhodes when she began her residency. There had been grotesque situations; nothing left of the patients but life support meat bags, drugs gone wrong, and multi-car accidents with a body count and no room in triage just to start. She'd tested the machines, re-run his stats and hell had almost lost a nurse to his gnashing maw, nothing added up. It made her fur stand on end, something about this case was very, very wrong. "I'll just be happy when this is not my problem anymore." She muttered under her breath.

"I can only imagine what it was like out there tonight when this whole thing went down. That kids in rough shape and really..." she sighed "I'm be happy when this one's gone. Like you said, Mordoc he should be off the walls, or dead by now. My staff is scared out of their wits, he bit a intern earlier, and at this rate he'll break out of that bed. I had suspected he would have started to come down from whatever he's on by now, not get worse. Especially with everything I've put in his system tonight." She looked around, almost nervously, making sure they were out of earshot of the nurse's station. "The combo would have killed most anyone else."

The rest of the night had been fairly uneventful as the stream of incoming patients had trickled out, and the noise of someone quickly approaching caught everyone's attention. "Doc, I got that tox screen back. I didn't want to wait until the morning since I knew you were waiting." Janet sounded a bit flustered. "I didn't want to go reading through it but seems like something had even the lab guys spooked today." She eyed the officers, handed Renee the folder and took a step back. She lingered around just within earshot, in an attempt but failure to look busy.

"Well boys, let's take a look here then." Renee opened the folder and scanned through the number of pages that were clipped together inside. She took a deep breath. "He's had a BAC of .14, the guy was drunk but he's coming up clean on everything else." She closed the folder and tucked it under her arm. "That...wasn't quite what I was anticipating. I'd rather get him to Rhodes psych ward sooner rather then later."

 

[VanMordoc]

Janet nodded and shot a nervous glance at the officers, she leaned closer to Dr. Renee and whispered. "That's not what had them spooked, Renee... take a look at this." The small, mousy nurse handed her the second folder she had.

As Renee opened and read the data sheets and charts Janet couldn't help but whisper a little too loudly. "Glen noticed something off about the blood you drew and had done another test... what he found were sure signs of autolysis; toxins, bacteria, and elevated PH in the sample... our John Doe has been dead for hours!"

The room suddenly grew darker, and where Van had felt hot in the small ER room-toasty even from the few shots of whiskey Neville had given him, his blood instantly turned to ice. He didn't try to appear that he didn't overhear, it was just that he could only barely comprehend. Sargent Van Mordoc took three steps over to the gurney, which was still gently swaying and twisting from the ill man's straining and placed his paws upon the cold bars of the railing. Cataract, milky eyes fallowed him every step. Around his bandaged snout was a plastic and steel muzzle that moved ever-so-much.

"Neville...? Forget R.R.T.F." Rhodes Regional treatment Facility was no longer appropriate any longer. "Call the Cheif and tell him we need the CDC. We can have John Doe OTR in two hours, in Rhodes in four."

"Oh man, he ain't going to be happy I woke him up." Neville turned his wide girth and headed out of the private EP room with a half cup of coffee as he rummaged in his front pocket for his cellphone.

A short moment later Van pushed off the steel bars of the gurney and turned to leave as well. "I'm going to finish my report outside in my cruiser, Renee. I-uh-leave me a patient sign-out sheet at the nurses' station, you're probably busy." He left the door open as he hurried out at a stiff pace. Fuck me, this is going to be a long night.

An Hour later he sat smoking outside his cruiser, leaning up against the read quarter panel. He'd just finished his report and it was like trying to fit a square block in a circle hole, ten pounds of shit in a five pond bag. Aside from the odd car that would pass by on the freeway a half mile away the night was silent and the air was still.

 

[Cacophony]

This doesn't make any sense! The thoughts came a thousand miles an hour as she looked over the papers again. The results were obviously correct but how was that even a possibly? The implications were dark, and far beyond anything she could or would consider this time of night. She ran a hand through her hair, the strays that had had since escaped the hold of the tie and settled lazily around her jawline were streaked and damp with sweat.

Wherever this patient needed to go, whether it was Rhodes, Maine or Hell he needed to get there and far away from here. Generally, she would have jumped at a challenge a new strain of the flu or a complicated combination of symptoms stemming from an truly uncommon factor. Perhaps it was the night, the moon or just the violence of the whole situation that had started the twist in her guts, but this was not a case she'd have much rather washed her hands of.

She had taken the results back to the break room and spent agonizing minutes attempting to make sense of the situation on a whole, until the chatter of the new shift of nurses arriving broke her concentration. With the results tucked under her arm, she balled up her lab coat and stuffed it into her locked. This was no mood in which to chit chat, especially to share this information with the new shift, they were bound to get full force of the rumors and a peek at the charts in no time.

As she passed the nurses station, she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and held the phone to her ear and nodded apologetically as she waved off the questioning glances from the desk staff. Of course, she'd get up to a full set of voicemails on both the personal and professional levels though it would be better to stomach on some sleep...if she could get it.

In the dim light of the lot, she caught sight of Van's police cruiser. And he'd probably rather be anywhere but here either she thought. She approached the car and as she passed the wolf she grabbed a cigarette from the open pack on from the roof of the car and motioned for his cigarette. The lit cigarette pressed against the fresh one sparked, as she inhaled deeply and then exhaled through the corner of her mouth the smoke curling upward on the wind.

"Oh don't make that face at me. I didn't say I quit I just can't smoke on the property anymore. Tried the gum, but it just takes the edge off." She scoffed. If half the nurses saw her out here sneaking smokes from the police they'd string her up. They had all vowed to quit smoking when the instituted the no smoking on the property, though here and there she'd caught an employee sneaking a drag in the darkened corners of the lot. And with this kind of night? She was surprised they didn't have more company.

The jest she had in her voice was gone as soon as it had come, as much as she'd prefer a more pleasant conversation there were too many more pressing issues on the table. "So what did the chief have to say about our buddy in 204?"

 

[VanMordoc]

Van grinned at her snarky comment, he flicked the remains of a smoldering butt and watched the red sparks as it struck the pavement. "Gum doesn't do much for me either... the Chantix made me an asshole." She gave him a sidelong glance. "Ok, ok... a bigger asshole." He took a drag, rolling the smoke over his tongue before inhaling. "I don't really have a smoking problem, really. I never seem to run out of em." With that said he reached for another smoke and lit it up, taking off his cap he threw the pack and it in the driver's seat of his cruiser's open window. He always seemed to smoke too much when he was feeling strung out and anxious.

As he leaned back against the car and took a long drag Renee finally asked the 'all important question'. Shaking his head, he ran his fingers through his short, jet black hair and down the back of his thick mane. "Hoo, boy... you're not going to like this, but apparently there was a riot after the football game-yeah, I know-aaaand the CDC office isn't even picking up their phones." Van shrugged his broad shoulders and tapped the ashes off his cigarette. "The Cop Shop over there is swamped too and the Regional Treatment Facility can't take John Doe temporarily because of the street closures. You're stuck with him for the next day or two, sorry Renee..." He looked over to her, his brow furrowed in genuine concern and sympathy.

For a moment they stood there not saying anything. He couldn't help but notice that she was still so pretty, even as frazzled and stressed he could tell she was. Van had always a bit of a thing for the doctor, and sure, they would flirt back and forth on occasion but he hadn't been in a relationship in years. Not even a casual one with a stranger, he'd always been too busy with work since his promotion to Sargent. Dr. Renee had always seemed to be a workaholic as well, always staying busy at the ER where she ran a frantic pace most nights and seemed to thrive at it. Right now though it seemed enough for them to share a moment together, taking a bit of ease in knowing they shared the same feelings of confusion and apprehension.

He sighed, breaking the silence. "Chief Davis just said to quarantine our guest 'n keep an eye on that nurse who got bit."

 

[Cacophony]

"Well, that's fabulous." The sarcasm was not hidden in her tone, the last thing she or the hospital needed was to try to keep their John Doe under lock and key for the next few days. "We aren't really equipped for this type of thing, but I'll give the staff the heads up. Fortunately it seems to be slowing down enough here, sounds like Rhodes is gonna have a hell of a night. With any luck, whatever they've got going on there will keep our intake low for the next day or so." Her eyes closed as she took the last pull of her cigarette, the glow bright for a moment before she opened her eyes, exhaled and crushed the butt beneath the toe of her shoe.

Even the the moonlight, she it was apparent she hadn't changed much over the years. For that matter, she had little time outside of work though years ago she had taken up jogging. Not only did it do her good to stay in shape it cultivated more of an appreciation for life outside the sterile walls of the lab or hospital rooms. It was pretty common knowledge that her mother had been a well-to-do cocker spaniel and whoever had fathered her disappeared well before she or anyone else could remember. There were no picture, no discussions, and after over thirty years her family had pretended that he had never existed. In her defense, she took more after her mother as far as her general appearance however they were as different as night and day. She had at one time been talk of the town but as she aged her mother "Miz Clarke" had become a shut in. Nowadays she rarely spoke with anyone, no less her daughter. Renee had been more open, more simple and even throughout her medical career she was on a first name basis with most of her colleagues as well as higher management. There were rarely complaints or questions for that matter, and whether it was personal or an attempt to separate herself from her childhood she did not make it an issue.

Though they clouded with worry-tinged thoughts, her brown eyes were soft and wide against the rust and cream of her fur. Her muzzle was mostly white but scattered with 'freckles' of an orange rust that combined towards her eyes but left a triangular cream stripe up her forehead to hear hairline. Her ears were long but well trimmed, and could easily blend in or be tied up accidently with her brown hair. It was rare she wore it down but when not properly attended, the normally tamed waves would become loose curls that hung just above her shoulders. Today, shorter tendrils escaped and floated aimlessly around her jawline. Average stature, she stood approximately 5 foot 6 though compared to her present company it didn't seem particularly impressive.

Her gaze caught Van's and for just a second the stress of the night seemed to dissipate...until her cell phone went off. Instinctively she pulled the device from her pocket and clicked the accept button before checking the time. "What? Well...no. I was just on my way out...I'll be right there." She clicked the phone off and returned it to her pocket. "No rest for the weary my friend, your vic from the 7-11 just coded. We're light staffed tonight..." She took wide strides toward the building as she spoke. "Gotta get back in there. Maybe we'll catch up on better circumstances one of these days." Preoccupied with the turn her night had taken, she pushed back through the doors and donned her spare coat on the way to the ICU.

Janet was still on duty, and she followed Renee as she washed up quickly and headed into the room. "There was little to no precursor here, it's possible that maybe it was a delayed shock due to his injuries or possibly an issue from a blood toxicity. With whatever was wrong with his attacker, he could have picked up something nasty. His temperature had been pretty normal however he started seizing and flat-lined suddenly. He has been completely unresponsive, we've done what we could in the meantime at least we have a decent staff on tonight, but..." she paused as they entered the room. The results of the seizure were apparent, their patient had split many of his stitches and even with the drips in place had lost quite a bit of blood where his wounds reopened. It soaked the white sheets and had dripped onto the floor where it had been spread into light streaks by the hospital staff that filled the room. The heart monitor still screeched it's unnerving noise as the line continued unbroken, scrolling across the screen. Time crept to a standstill, her shift relief had the paddles on the exposed chest and was mouthing something above the commotion but as the patients lifeless body jerked and spittle escaped his lips it was obvious there was no change. She stepped into the frenzy, assisting the doctor who had come in only to start his night with this. They worked in a practiced tandem to no avail.

Whether the time had passed in a crawl or a flash, Renee could not be sure. Keith Johnson was pronounced dead at a little after 3am, and Renee left it up to the night crew to inform the patient's family, normally she was well suited to speaking with the recently bereaved but she'd exhausted whatever was left of her sympathy for the night. She called the transport to move the body to the morgue, punched out again and headed home for a shower and a shot. Three AM or not, it didn't matter if the bars were closed she just wanted to clean up, mentally punch out and crawl under her covers until it was tomorrow.

 

[VanMordoc]

"Doubt it..." He murmured to himself. They bumped into each other outside the ER maybe a few times at a gas station or the grocery store, every other time was at the hospital over one tragedy or another. "See you hopefully tomorrow!" Yelling after her as she had already crossed half the distance to the rear bay doors. Renee might be on the short side, but she had those long legs and a wiggle for days-grrr. Even after all that happened his inner "dog" wasn't silent. Guess he'd just been a cop for too long, desensitized from all the things he'd seen and been through by now.

Van climbed back into his cruiser and sighed, he thought about the vic from earlier that night. He stopped thinking about their names, he knew that man's name was Keith Johnson, but he'd since learned to distance himself. Softened the blow each time he had to see their pain, their evil and desperation. Kept him doing his job without slipping a gear and maybe killing himself before retirement. Whatever.

The whole time he was in the hospital and outside in his car he'd had his radio keyed low so only he could just hear it, his sensitive ears could hear it without bothering or inturrupting others. The incident at 7/11 was the worst of what happened so far tonight, rest was just the usual and didn't need his special attention. Most nights he was a glorified babysitter for the department at night, cruising around in his Mustang pulling over speeders or busting the odd college kid for possession. Van turned his CB back on and picked up the hand-set.

"Whats new, Baby Blue?" He spoke into the mike and waited for a fraction of a moment.

"Not much, Shug. Bailey has a possible DUI pulled over near the 101 and Thomas Drive, all quiet since the bars let out." A sultry woman's voice crackled back at him over the radio, dripping molasses. Judy had been dispatch since before Van had even thought of being a cop and had run the station like a mother hen 6 nights a week without a sick-day.

"Rodger that, Judy... Doughnuts on me again tonight. You still love the plain ones, right?" He grinned, knowing very well what she liked.

"You can just keep them if you wanna be like that, Mr. Mordoc!" She exclaimed saucily, making him laugh a bit.

"Ok-ok... Boston cream with the sprinkles." She had always ate 2 of those every night with a coffee mug that never went dry.

"Damn right, Boston cream with the sprinkles. Better hurry quick! Mama like's em warm." Every night at 3 Dainty's would have fresh doughnuts on their shelves like clockwork. Van's Mustang roared to life and he squealed the wheels a bit as he pulled out of the parking lot.

===============================================================================

Later that morning he lay in bed, in nothing but bare fur with the covers tossed to the side grey morning light began to trickle past the blinds. It was the middle of fall and it still felt too hot inside his bedroom, even the window beside his bed was wide open. Sleep wouldn't come to him, he just lay there staring at the inside of his eyelids. No matter how much he tried to meditate he couldn't quiet his mind, he couldn't stop thinking about that crazed bum. An after image was burned into his eyes, those torn lips pulled back from snapping, bloody teeth... and those blind eyes, retinas milked over like a dead man's.

He kept reasoning with himself, bum looked pretty worn by the street already. Had to been crazy, mad as a shit-house rat... been blind from the start maybe and finally snapped. Who knows what kind of crud that man had been infected with-riddled with parasites even... Fuck it, he's someone else's problem in a couple of days when they sort that shit out in Rhodes... I wonder if Renee is ok... what about that nurse she said who had been bitten on the arm? He felt tired, restless, his body felt as if it wanted to spring to attack. Van hated nights like this.