“What in the blazes is going on out here?” he demanded as he looked from his assistant to me. “Do I need to remind you both I’m on a call!”
“That’s what I tried to tell her,” the girl started, but I interrupted because I didn’t have time for this crap. Not when a barely intact, very dead or what was once a very dead body had suddenly decided it wasn’t its time to go and was now making its rounds downstairs, knocking over everything in the process.
“There is a situation unfolding in the morgue,” I informed Dr. Moody, trying to sound as non-delirious as I could. “It requires your assistance immediately.”
“What type of situation?” the doctor demanded, eyeing me suspiciously. Meanwhile, the discord from inside the morgue continued, the racket echoing up the stairs. “Who’s down there?” the doctor added, his narrow-eyed expression now giving way to wide-eyed fear.
“I can’t explain it,” I answered honestly. “You’re going to need to see for yourself.” And then something occurred to me. “Is there a way outside through the morgue?” If not, there was only one way out and that was up…
“A way outside?” Dr. Moody repeated as he stepped out of the examination room and carefully closed the door behind him before taking a deep breath and approaching me. “No. But why would you ask me that? What’s going on?” he insisted again, this time more forcefully.
I shook my head because I had no words. “I can’t even begin to explain it. You need to see for yourself.” I spun around on the ball of my right foot and headed for the stairwell. I glanced behind me to ensure Dr. Moody was following me and was relieved when I found him just behind me.
“I don’t understand,” he began to say, but his words ceased when the body suddenly appeared at the bottom of the stairs.
It was mostly upright, although its upper half drooped over, reminding me of Igor. The thing was attempting to walk, even though it was having a tough time, considering its chest cavity was splayed wide. The top third of its cranium was still missing, although I noticed it had managed to put its brain back where it belonged. When the body put its foot on the first step and hoisted itself up, its right hand clutching the banister, I immediately stepped back, right onto Dr. Moody’s foot. There was already a trail of blood behind John suddenly-reanimated Doe.
“By the grace of God,” the doctor whispered as we both took another five or so steps back and the body continued to work its way up the stairs, its knees wobbling with each step. It walked like a newly born giraffe. But it didn’t look anything like one. Instead, it looked like it had wings stemming from its chest, owing to the loose skin that hung from each side. I remembered the body’s rib cage having already been removed while I was viewing it earlier, so I was surprised to find it intact now, though “intact” was not quite the word to describe the way the rib cage had sort of been stuffed back into the chest cavity. I figured John Doe must have realized it would need its ribs to stand upright, or mostly upright.
It clutched the metal bowl full of its bagged-up organs with its left hand, allowing the bowl to rest against its side. It looked like something from a horror movie, like it was nothing more than theatrics—makeup and prosthetics. But, no, this was flesh and bone and blood. Flesh and bone and blood that had been dead an hour ago. Hell, five minutes ago.
It took another wavering step and then another as my heart continued to thunder in my chest and I wondered if this was actually happening, or more specifically, how this was actually happening.
When the body reached the middle step, I heard Dr. Moody’s assistant scream. Her scream was followed by a loud thump so I figured she was out cold. I didn’t bother checking, though. All my attention was centered on the reanimated dead man who was still coming toward us. His gaze was steadily focused on mine, the whites of his eyes stark against the brown of his pupils.
“Shoot it!” Dr. Moody ordered right after I palmed the Colt .45 from where it was sitting in the holster around my waist. I didn’t pull the gun free, though. I didn’t think there was a reason to. Not yet.
“It’s already dead!” I managed as the body suddenly opened its mouth as if it were trying to speak. However, Dr. Moody had already removed its tongue during the autopsy so it wasn’t able to form a sound, let alone a word. If it was possible, its eyes went even wider.
“Shoot it anyway!” Moody bellowed, his voice incredibly loud, considering he was still standing right behind me.
“It hasn’t done anything,” I whispered back as I shook my head and stepped out of the thing’s way as it aimed for the front door of Dr. Moody’s establishment. It hobbled forward, past Moody’s assistant, and paused only momentarily at the front door before reaching for the doorknob and cranking it to the left.
“It’s trying to leave,” Moody announced.
I didn’t respond because I didn’t know what to say. And, more specifically, I didn’t know what to do. I hadn’t quite recovered from the trauma of the thing coming back to life in the first place.
John Doe opened the door and stepped outside where it was bathed in darkness. As we were still in the tail-end of winter, even though it was only six in the evening, it was already dark.
Neither Dr. Moody nor I said anything as we watched the body continue forward, down the icy street before it turned to the right and disappeared into the woods, leaving a sticky trail of blood in its wake. The silence between us continued, even after another minute passed and another one after that.
But then I remembered Dr. Moody’s assistant who’d passed out. I immediately approached her and crouched down to check that she was breathing. Dr. Moody was right behind me.
“She’s breathing,” I announced as I glanced up at him. “I think the desk broke her fall, so hopefully, we aren’t dealing with any head trauma.”
“I will take care of her,” he announced, his voice trembling just as much as his hands.
I stood up and nodded but wasn’t sure what to do next. There was a part of me that wanted to ask the doctor if he’d seen what I’d just seen, just to make sure I hadn’t hallucinated the last ten minutes. But the other part of me wanted nothing more than to go home and curl up with a very stiff drink. Or eight.
“We can’t speak of this to anyone,” Dr. Moody announced suddenly, his tone of voice somber. “No one would believe us and our sanity would be questioned,” he continued, sounding very matter-of-fact. “I can’t afford to have my credibility nor my practice taken away from me and I imagine you would feel the same way, considering you were just awarded the position of Hope’s Chief of Police.”
I simply nodded because he had a good point. Who in the hell would believe a story like this anyway? “So how do we explain the body vanishing?” I asked and was amazed I could even form words.
“It was stolen,” Dr. Moody answered succinctly, his jaw tight, determined. “As simple as that. It was here and then the next day, it wasn’t.”
I nodded but didn’t say anything more. What more was there to say? Apparently, what happened in Dr. Moody’s office, stayed in Dr. Moody’s office.
Chapter Eight