Play@YSDC

"Right, let's go," says Irene. "I'll guide us. I know my way around the city quite well, and I've got a map too." She takes it out of her purse, carrying it in one hand and her hooded torch in the other.

John bends down and lifts Hewitt up in a fireman's lift. "I'm ready, although we'll need to find something else to carry him in soon. No one can carry a man for long. "

"Given a long enough piece of wood, I could make a litter," suggets Irene. "We could use a table if we break off the legs. Two of us could carry that for some distance. Although a wheelbarrow would be better still."

"Come on Hewitt, let's get you out of here before these women get their hands on you. Doug, open the door please." John carries Hewitt to the door.

Doug opens the door and John moves a catatonic, but not entirely immobile, Hewitt through the doorway and out into the blacked out streets beyond. In the firelight of the incendiaries which spray sparks from the trees around them, the place seems both eerie and wonderful. The starlight above of this moonlit night also give a certain sense of freedom. None of them had known how much the outside world might feel so positively splendid, so magical, until that moment where they had stepped out from the suffocating piles of concrete and dirt that had almost been their tomb. Yet still there were many questions.... What were the links between the eugenics facility on Long Island that Hewitt had discovered which had brought him here? From where did those disgusting creatures hail and how did that terrible doctor find him? Some of those tunnels seemed rather crudely crafted, and by some brutish figure as well, and the doctor certainly doesn't seem the construction type. Who were his assistants in this? And how did he capture so many people from that air raid shelter and where did they go? Had they been fed to those patients and their remains washed away? Had they been taken elsewhere? And what had happened to the priest who had mysteriously vanished?

So many questions. Many of which they might never learn the answers to. At the very least you know that the doctor responsible is dead (regain 1d6 sanity points) and that, at least, is something.

They walk the firelit and winding streets until a few landmarks stand out, directing them to the local police station in Norbury, where they tell their harried tale. The police are, at first, unbelieving but Irene and Florence are known here and though the police still suspect some form of hallucinatory gas they do give them enough credence that something terrible must have happened. They contact the government through civil defence channels for advice and soon the entire street is cordoned off by ARP wardens in anti-gas suits to await the arrival of the generally bored and unused decontamination squad arrives from London. Irene and Florence are allowed to don anti-gas suits, once a few other suits arrive, so that they can provide medical assistance while John and Hewitt are sent to a local hospital to recover mentally from the ordeal. Doug is neither included in the preparations nor excluded and spends his time at the perimeter, awaiting news of what they find.

Finally prepared, a contingent of local police officers armed with guns and wearing suits and masks enter the basements below. The multiple basements block out the sounds of gunfire but the group hears about it later. After several minutes the police withdraw and call in the military who calls in some secret intelligence agents while civil defence is forced to examine old maps of sewers and tunnels in a room well away while Florence and John and Hewitt and Irene and Doug try to remember all of the open passageways they saw. That's the last time they see the American, Hewitt, who is taken away by the Office of Strategic Services in a rather friendly manner for further conversation. That's also the last they hear about those centipedal monsters other than a polite dinner with some officials who explain that it's being dealt with and that it would be a good idea to hold one's silence rather than risk spooking the general populace. If anyone tries to go to the media about it then the government will deny it and the individual in question will look a fool.

Florence goes home as well, wishing to bury her head in housework and normalcy and put the whole thing behind herself.

What do the rest of you do?

Irene goes to the hospital to check on John, and to see if he's recovered enough for her to visit him. She hasn't completely recovered herself.

Doug depart from the others, not wanting any connection to what happened.
They never hear from him again.

Irene enters St. Clements Hospital in Bow St and asks for John Brooke. She is directed to the mental observation wing where she speaks to the doctor in charge who nods, "John Brookes? Yes, a difficult patient; would have nothing to do with women so we had to draft in a male nurse just for him. Poor sod saw his wife killed in front of him when their house was bombed, a miracle John survived the blast really.

"Then he kept talking about watching a woman being eaten by people with centipede tongues; horrible, this must be a euphemism for his wife's death. Anyhow, the upshot is he thinks all women are monsters masquerading as humans and that they are out to get him. He's discharged himself and we let him go. He's no danger to anyone and quite frankly we need the bed for more serious cases; there's so many at the moment."

He shrugs, "Sorry I can't be of more help; I don't know where he went."

"Thank you, Doctor," says Irene. "I understand." She leaves with her head lowered, a sad expression on her face. The others who shared the experience with her seem to be gone, except for Florence. She is truly grateful for her friend, and she is glad to have someone with whom she could talk about the events of that night. She feels bad for the others, who don't. She tries to contact William and see how he's doing.

William is difficult to find for the next month or so but reappears one weekend at The Hensley Arms. When approached by Irene he makes some cryptic statements about new employment and seems a little more at peace with himself than previously. He is certainly open to conversation with Irene but is a little bit disappointed it Irene is meeting him on a strictly platonic level.

"I'm glad things are going well for you," says Irene with a smile. "Most of the others who were with us that night are gone. Mr. Hewitt probably got sent back to America, and I never had a chance to even say goodbye to him. John checked himself out of the hospital, but it sounds like he hasn't recovered. I can't find any trace of Doug. I'm just glad Florence is still around. It's good to have a friend I can talk to about...what happened. I can't imagine what it would be like to have to keep it to myself. If you ever want to talk things over, I'm more than happy to. I really appreciate your courage and determination down there.

"Am I correct in guessing that the new job you've got is the sort of thing you can't discuss? Do you think it's the sort of work that could use someone with my talents, or Florence's?"

"To be honest, I don't rightly know, though they've doubtless got their eyes on you two after that situation," says William. "Perhaps wait around and see what happens."

Irene is contacted three months later to command a first aid post near one of the storage houses for the British Museum's collections. The people who bring her onboard treat the whole thing as a rather hush-hush operation and seem to be concerned that there might be some kind of problem, particularly with the rare book collection, that might necessitate a nurse's skills. Fortunately, their fears never eventuate and her six month stint at the museum's collection passes rather easily. She is naturally told never to disclose any of her findings to anyone.

Irene keeps her secrets, though she never forgets what she experienced. Now that her mind has been opened, she cannot look at the world the same way again.

To be continued in the Fallen Lives Hospital Threads....