This time, when Rita awakened, the drowsiness and disorientation cleared much faster than it had during the night. Being in a familiar room with traces of light helped with that. Instinctively, she tried to pull herself up, but the motion sent a piercing pain through her chest.

"Oh, Paige, let me help you!" a nurse cried from the doorway as she rushed to Rita's side. For once, Rita wasn't about to put up a fight, though she grumbled a bit as she was eased upright and to her feet. Her right arm was in a cast, which was kept immobilized in a sling. Wherever skin was visible, bruising could be found, and a particularly deep shade of blackish-blue could be seen peeking out from the edge of her shirt collar.

As they began to walk to the Sun Room, the nurse continued talking. "I hope you're not too disappointed at missing the field trip. But I have good news for you! The doctors say you'll be good as new in no time, so long as you take care and don't aggravate your injuries." The woman went on to list a number of activities the mage should avoid or ask for help with, as though Rita couldn't figure those things out for herself. Finally, they reached their destination and Rita was left in peace.

First things first: the bulletin. Since it was early in the day, there weren't many messages from patients yet. That was fine; it would mean her own message would be more visible. First, she needed to notify Taura of her situation, and then there were a few magic-related topics she wanted to inquire about...

Rita picked up a pen and a slip of paper, bent over one of the tables near the bulletin, and began to write... but the letters came out jerky and illegible.

"Dammit," she hissed, scrapping the paper and beginning again. Using only her non-dominant hand was more difficult than she imagined. This time, she wrote very slowly, taking care to write each stroke of each letter neatly. The result was still awkward-looking, but at least it was a readable start. She just needed to be patient... though that was a virtue Rita certainly lacked.

[Taura!]

[from here]

The door was locked, but just with a latch; the credit card they'd issued her for the trip was worth far more sliding down the thin space between jamb and door than it had been earlier. The latch clicked, and the door swung open with a loud creak.

Lana held the door open, gesturing for everyone to come in. In her other hand she'd grabbed one of the waiting-line chairs and was holding it, ready to jam it under the doorknob. As long as they were all inside before the zombies arrived, they'd be fine.

That was, of course, assuming the office was empty.

[From here.]

Indeed, it wasn't long before things began looking quite familiar to Zero. He knew (somewhat) where they were now based on his explorations of this area during the day... Wasn't the police station somewhere down this street, too? He could swear it was... But surely, Lana (and probably Dent as well) knew better than him. The once-Reploid continued to walk carefully, sticking close to his companions.

Unfortunately, it also wasn't long before the group's well-being was threatened once again.

An unusual moaning sound was the first thing that caught Zero's attention, followed by shuffling noises. To the right of them. He paused a moment to look, searching for the source of those noises. Just as Dent had warned them - there, in the shadows. Two...no, three shifting forms, decaying, only vaguely looking human. Zombies. But only three? Or were there others around who were simply out of sight? It was hard to tell.

Even if there weren't any others around, three zombies were still too many for the group to handle without weapons. This much was obvious. Zero quickly glanced back toward his companions, quietly asking them through subtle expression what they should do. If they started running now...he couldn't be the one to lead, not knowing exactly where they were going. And he was not about to run off without anyone.

[from here]

The street along the park was still quiet. Fast food wrappers and receipts littered the ground where the buses had pulled up; the nurses had tried to keep things clean, but the wind had been brutal, and things had flown everywhere. She stooped and reached for a bag to throw it in the trash can, and then froze. Paper crinkled, and she dropped it as quickly as she'd grabbed for it. Rookie mistakes, hmm? You are nervous.

Fear was burning through the fog that the illness had caused, though, and she could only be grateful for that. She nodded her head at the turn-off to the main drag through town, and looked for zombies. None had come at the noise, but that could just mean they were more intelligent than movies might suggest.

[Zombie attack as soon as they turn onto Main Street, Zero can move them?]

[from here]

They were passing houses, now, and it was time to stop running. There wasn't anywhere completely out of sight of any of the houses -- the best they could do was a tall hedge separating two driveways. Lana stepped off the road and into its shadow. She was panting, and she rested her head in her hands for a moment while everyone else collected nearby.

"We should decide where we're going now. We don't want to attract any more attention downtown than we have to." She took a deep breath, and her head swam. Focus, Skye. "I'd like to take a look at the records at the police station," she whispered, and waited to see if there was any objection.

[From here.]

But being outside was probably just as dangerous, if not more dangerous, than it was being trapped inside the bus with that nurse.

Besides the many other deformed nurses that were roaming around here, Zero caught sight of numerous forms flying overhead, casting large shadows on the ground as they passed by. They looked like...eagles. But deformed and horrific-looking, just like the nurses. At first, they seemed content to simply circle overhead, screeching, like vultures swarming above a carcass. But then many of them suddenly swooped down and headed straight for some of the prisoners running in the street.

Kind of like the one flying at Zero right now.

"Kh--!" The once-Reploid barely managed to dodge the monster as it dived for him by falling to the ground and rolling back onto his feet. The bird flew upwards again, slowly flapping its wings, then circled around as if to try again, another eagle joining it. To avoid them, Zero quickly moved out of the open, where he was obviously a target, and circled around one of the buses, keeping his back to it for cover. But he knew he wasn't going to be safe here...not when there were nurses on the ground and so many eagles above.

Not since the night he had become temporarily stronger had there been so much visible chaos... And if that one prisoner hadn't started a riot, this wouldn't be happening right now...!

As he stood contemplating the best route for escape, Zero glanced around quickly, searching the fleeing prisoners for anyone familiar or anyone who might need help. He was defenseless, so protecting someone else would only get him so far (and he certainly didn't want a repeat of two nights ago), but they all might have a better chance of survival if they grouped up...

[Leanne, Lana, and Harvey, WHERE YOU AT.]

By the time the darkness fell and the strange fluxing of air swept across the buses, Tolten still wasn't certain what was going on. Only that there was some problem with the final bus, and that they had been waiting to resume.

Of course now it was very certain that there would be no return trip tonight. Whatever the implications of that were, the young king had no idea. Nor did he spare a thought to it. Rather he found himself lurching to his feet and losing his lunch in the empty seat space behind him.

It was the only reaction his body could offer to what he saw unfold before his eyes, a twisted carnival show of gore and depravity the likes of which he had never imagined. Even the creatures in the sewers were less violent and torturous than this!

He knew he didn't have time for pity or wonderment as to whether or not the staff was always like that, under the surface, but his mind was slow to follow. He could only stare, shaking, his mind buzzing with fear and disgust and sorrow.

This was simply wrong!

[For Locke!]

Having the chance to share a meal with Claude and just relax in a setting that was more interesting than that cafeteria back at the institute had been refreshing. Guy couldn't shake his worries about Claude, but he tried to push it from his mind, knowing that his friend would speak up if there was anything serious going on.

After their meal they parted ways to do some last minute shopping, although Guy was reluctant to leave the Twin Pines with the way that the wind was only increasing in strength. Still, he didn't want to be holed up there for the rest of the day, and so he endured it, heading across town as quick as he could for the electronics store.

While he had been thinking earlier about how he'd been there so many times already and wanted to see something new, Guy had a practical reason for returning, which was to stock up on fresh batteries. The last thing he wanted was for his flashlight to go out when he and his friends were in the middle of exploring those caverns, after all.

He took a moment to arrange his hair and clothing after escaping from the wind, and then went about searching the store. While he knew where the batteries were by now, he couldn't stop himself from getting distracted from the various gadgets as he made his way to that particular shelf. There was nothing wrong with that, was there?

[For Leanne.]

After speaking with both Kratos and Tsubaki, Sora realized that he needed to try and handle this whole sickness thing sooner rather than later. Because there was no way it was just him. Even if he hadn't run into anyone else yet, there had to be some other patients who were suffering in the same way. Thus far he'd been content to just stay outside because the cool air felt good on his flushed face, but in the end he forced himself into the grocery store and over to the bulletin board.

He left two messages: one for the patients at large to try and get a discussion going on what to do about this new problem, and another one for the Arts and Crafts club. Sora hoped that would at least put them on the right path, and he had to admit he felt better after writing those notes.

There wasn't much for him to do in the grocery store when he didn't have an appetite, and so the boy left and stepped outside as soon as he was done. He was going to have to check back throughout the day, but he figured it was going to take the others a while to notice.

Which left him with the same question: where did he go, what did he do? It was hard to think straight when he felt so lousy, but he also had twenty-five dollars burning a hole in his pocket. What would be worth buying even when he was sick? He could get medicine, maybe, but why waste his money on that when the nurses would give it to him when they got back to the institute? This was harder to figure out than it should have been...

[For Snow.]

Utena knew exactly where she was headed first, no question. She really doubted Marc would be in the abandoned building still, but despite that, she still felt it was worth looking over just in case. Who knew? Maybe other rebels had been there and left traces behind. She wouldn't know until she checked.

And even if they hadn't, it just felt... well, natural to go back to that place. Thanks to Marc's temporary residence there, the building somehow felt more connected to the patient body than any other place in the area. Like it was theirs by right or something. She knew it was kind of silly to think that way, but that didn't stop her. So she walked from the unloading area down to South Street, a purpose in her step and pink fabric swishing around her legs as she walked.

Maybe I can burn this stupid skirt when I get there, if nothing else, she thought, cheeks flushing slightly.

[Leanne]

Searching for files really wasn't the most exciting way to spend a night, but at least he had Sangamon had managed something and had also somehow avoided getting into any real trouble. While the lack of some sort of conflict meant that it had almost felt boring in comparison, Harvey was pretty sure he could go without seeing one of those rotted faces for the rest of his life.

Yeah, the memory of one of those dogs tearing through Zex's throat hadn't quite left his mind yet. It probably wasn't going to anytime soon, either.

It was clear that Landel was trying to stir up shit among the patients, though, with how he was going on about this so-called sickness. It was obvious from the start that this was something that had been administered to certain patients, but that didn't mean it wouldn't spread. But Harvey's guess was that it wouldn't. This whole charade had clearly been designed to force a wedge between the patients, and he was pretty sure it was going to work.

Other than the fact that he'd slept all day yesterday, though, Harvey felt fine. As fine as someone with half his face burned off could feel, anyway. But the point was that he felt normal for him, which probably meant he'd been lucky enough to steer clear of this weird illness. The coin had apparently landed on the clean side this time.

Sleeping a whole day away meant that it was already time to head into Doyleton yet again. Harvey couldn't say he was that excited. The town hadn't given him much to do, and while a change of scenery was probably good for his mental health, the way the townspeople treated them more or less canceled that out. Still, there was nothing for it, so he didn't put up a fuss as he changed into his clothes for the day. This time he had a pair of black pants, a shirt that was a little too close to purple for his liking, and a gray-colored zip-up windbreaker to wear over it.

As usual, there was the sack lunch and coupons to collect (did they really have to be treated like grade-schoolers?), but it looked like the allowance was going to be a staple from now on. Harvey stepped up onto one of the buses with a sigh, but it looked like he'd picked the one that was emptiest (so far, anyway). Focusing on that silver lining, he went to sit down in the back and started to peel open the brown bag with his breakfast in it.

[For Shiina!]

[from here]

As soon as the southern door opened, a draft started blowing through it, and Taura almost hauled the door shut. This wasn't a station, or a ship, though, and drafts didn't mean certain death. It wasn't reassuring, though, given what little people had said about what was waiting at the end this hallway.

She took one step into the hallway, which was nearly pitch black. She extracted her flashlight and flicked it on; just a short area, and then another set of doors, which, from a distance, looked as equally ornate as the last set. "All clear," she called back.

[From here.]

Another ornate room met her eyes, one with a low ceiling and a gold finish everywhere she looked. The focus of her gaze, however, fell on the centerpiece--the strange creature Renamon had referenced. It looked to be a hybrid, an unrecognized formation of animals she knew well, but for some reason, Tear did not believe it to be a product of science. The sphinx maintained an antiquated countenance, as if it had originated from a point far in Earth's past.

Nothing so old could logically be conceived by artificial means.

One might have expected the soldier to outright stare as she had with the tapestries. Tear, however, recalled the existence of riddles and stayed respectably cautious, even as she could not hide the wonder in her blue eyes.

[from here]

The hall, and its near-horrific tapestries that the Digimon hadn't been able to view properly before called itself as stark in the silence that still rang after IRIS's disjointed speech. Renamon truly wondered if the AI was self-aware, or only a complex program. Something like Digimon, or closer to the D-Reaper? Or not even anything of the sort.

They moved down the hall, and she ventured information. "Where we're going holds a being that commands respect. It isn't human, but it doesn't change the fact that it's an entity from human mythology. We have to face it, and solve a riddle it offers. If we don't succeed, it will fight us." She paused, then went on. "As things are, I don't think that we would survive."

[teleporting from here]

Her stomach twisted painfully, and she swallowed harshly. This was not her first time, and a lesser distance than the last two, but still it affected. She regretted suddenly finishing the remains of her dinner. Taking a moment to refind her feet, she moved to face the group. "...I'll explain. The--"

--To be cut off by the intercom sputtering to life. Expecting Landel, IRIS's tone came as a surprise. And more--

When the AI started rattling off binary, the Digimon's head jolted towards the ceiling, listening intently. After the first few repeats, she was sure that was all there was. She waited a moment more, and the intercom cut off sharply. "Jessica Drew and Peter Parker...." she murmured. One of the names sounded familiar, but she couldn't place it. Who were they, to gain such a reaction to their demise?

[from here]

Taura took up station midway between the two halls leading back into the dormitories. Alone with her thoughts; the hall was quiet. Too quiet. Dead quiet, a little voice hissed in the back of her mind.

This was no time to be getting superstitious. It was unavoidable, really, in a profession with so much risk involved in daily operations, that those who survived found things to credit. Beyond their own skill, because they'd all seen better men/women/herms when their luck ran out, and skill only improved your odds.

Her luck was holding, tonight. Was Rita and Goku's?

[Rita and Goku]

[from here]

Taura didn't let heavy thoughts drag her footsteps down. She was around the corner and down into the main hall in two long strides.

[to here]

[from here]

Taura was passing the door to the bathrooms when a thought occurred to her. Could that have been what Okita had been worried about? Did he know something had started? He hadn't looked especially well, come to think of it, but he'd never looked terribly energetic, except in the middle of a fight.

But if he'd known this was coming, why hadn't he said anything? He didn't have to use his own handwriting -- if he'd wanted to, he could have let them all know that something was coming without tipping his hand.

Or it could be something else. Politics. Loyalties. She hadn't expected him not to have any, but she wished he'd been willing to explain. Did he think she'd be disappointed? Maybe she would have, a little, but she would have listened to what he had to say. Did he -- no, he didn't think her unworthy of trust, but perhaps he hadn't been able to turn that same regard to himself? Or maybe it's just embarrassing, Taura.

[to here]

Taura paused, before heading out, to take a good, long look at herself. Metaphorically speaking; she didn't turn the flashlight on for this. She felt...good. Better. The zombie infection hadn't even left a scar. There were a few tiny ones on her lips, where Rita had had to fight her off, when she'd been possessed. Other than that, the only thing that hurt were her ears, which were starting to be less difficult to get the earrings through, but not yet easy. She was a little hungry, but dinner was never big enough, and what she wanted was a nice, well-cooked steak, or a vat of chocolate mousse. Not anything else. A little anticipation fluttered in her stomach, but if she hadn't had that, then she'd worry.

It was just...it wasn't like her luck to avoid something like this. She ran one hand over the other, feeling the chipped polish and the soft, squishy nails underneath. She'd gotten one truly lucky break in her life; another was more than she deserved.

[to here]

Lana was the first into the showers when the doors opened; she didn't really have a problem with communal showers, but she needed a few minutes to herself, a few minutes where she didn't have to watch her every reaction with the eyes of an ace interrogator. The tiles told no secrets, or, if they did, not to any of the other patients, and the near-scalding hot water spraying around her made an adequate do-not-cross line. She shampooed her hair, fingers tugging out the tangles one by one, and then ducked her entire head under the water. Her eyebrows needed plucking; with no makeup, no suit with tailoring that ran as close to military lines as could be respectful, no battles of wits that ran half on appearance and the other half on intimidation, she'd let things go. Pity. She'd need to fix that. They'd be in town tomorrow; perhaps she could purchase a few things then.

She had let herself relax. Taken a vacation, in this dead-end, because the only thing that had kept her going when everything had gone to hell was here, safe and sound and willing to forgive her. And now they were back to square one, at best. The worst-case scenario was what she needed the armor against.

She wrung as much water as she could out of her hair, tucked it behind her ears, and dressed in silence, as other women were still filing in.

[to here]