As they moved on, Caleb had guided them without faltering, always able to find the tracks even when they had seemingly vanished, and always there had been the hoofprints, sometimes in other places the overly large footprints, and occasionally the animal paws they had seen earlier.

Just under a half hour away from the train tracks, the men and woman arrived at a stream. Following the water, they came to a spot where they found a lathered horse drinking noisily from that stream. The rear of a buckboard was visible just a few feet away inside the mouth of the mine shaft. The moonlight didn't go much further in than the mouth, but apparently it was enough for the law man to confirm where they were.

"That buckboard in there belongs to Doc Hodges," he said. "Not that horse, though, not that I know. It musta been one taken from the train."
This message was last updated by the player at 17:11, Wed 03 Oct 2012.

Daniel nodded at Marshal Phelps confirmation. "Looks like we foun' th' place. Lez go see wha' might be inside." He looked around at the others, most notably Coraline who was bright enough to bring a lantern with.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:01, Fri 05 Oct 2012.

Morgan kept his hand on his Colt, carefully studying the scene for any signs of movement, or anything out of the ordinary.

Keeping his voice low, he asked, "This Hodges fella. He keep company up here ever, or is he pretty much a loner?"

Coraline held her lantern to shed some light on their surroundings, moving to the mouth of the mine to see how far the light reached.  "We've come this far.  Might as well go a bit further.  Anyone have a canary?"  Holding her fan in one hand and the lantern in the other, she started through the maw of the mine without waiting to see if anyone else was following, too curious for her own good.

"Wait!" Gabby says, alarmed, and runs after Coraline. "Don't even joke about that, ma'am. Mine fumes ain't no laughin' matter!"

"What are you scared of?  Exploding?" She gave the old man a look that said she clearly wasn't.  Either she'd die or she wouldn't.  There was no worrying about it, either way.

"Do you know why miners done bring canaries down in coal mines, Miss Hawthorne?" Gabby says, giving her a glare. "It's because mine gasses are subtle. If your lantern turns blue, you won't have time to regret it before you've killed not only yourself but everyone else with you. But that ain't the worst o' it. You ain't ever seem someone get the lung. They don't die right away, Miss Hawthorne. Some mines have a gas in 'em that don't just kill you...it turns off your ability to breathe regular. You die gasping, like you're been choked...only you're still dyin' even after they take you out of the mine. You die slow. I seen it back in California, after the Maze broke open. It ain't a pretty way to die, Miss Hawthorne. The canary's there to git sick afore the other miners do, so they relaize there's a danger and can git out."

He gives her a haunted look. "Don't joke about that sort o' thing. You ain't ever been through it. You don't want to be."

"Since you obviously have, why don't you go first and keep the rest of us safe," Coraline suggested, secretly amused at Gabby's tirade.  She wasn't going to argue with him, but she thought that the true danger wouldn't come from bad air or a build up in gas.  It'd come from a giant monstrosity that had been stitched together by some mad scientist.  She glanced back to Daniel.  "Has anyone seen that scrambling hand anywhere?  I thought it was going to lead us some place."

Keeping pace with the group, Morgan said, "Gabby, we'd honestly benefit from your expertise here. You, better than anyone, will know the dangers of this place. I've never done a day of mining in my life. I'll keep right alongside you, but Miss Coraline's right, it might be best if you took the lead."

Daniel kept a stern look on his face as Gabby explained all the details of mine gas. It's not like they were planning to be under the rock overlong. However, Gabby certainly had the most experience with this stuff, so Daniel nodded at the Marshal's suggestion, "Mebbe show us how it's done, Uncle? You know all 'bout th' underground dangers."

"Don't know much about minin' myself, so we'll follow your lead," he said to Gabby, scratching at the scruffy and newly formed black beard that was growing on his face.

"All I know is that this mine supposedly went dead some years ago. Whatever the word for it is. Doc Hodges seemed to think he could get somethin' more out of it, so he bought it on the cheap and goes out here every once in a while. When he's got free time. Is it still gonna be deadly you think?" he asked the old miner.

The disembodied hand had, for the duration of their trip flitted back and forth and in and out of sight. At their approach, it came scampering out of the mouth of the mine, and pointed inward. It seemed to do a great deal of pointing.

"Well...this was a silver mine, right? So the chance of mine gas is a lot less." Gabby says, then thinks.

Randolph takes the hand with which Coraline holds the lantern and speaks quietly: "If Wilder and Radcliffe are down there, gas is probably not a problem. But gas or no, this lantern can get us killed by letting our enemies know we're coming.

"Phelps, is there a cabin or shed around? If so, someone should check that out. I don't see a need to go into that tunnel at all. Our quarry has to emerge sometime and we can get the drop on them, right?"
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 11:26, Sat 06 Oct 2012.

"Well, I'm a bit worried about whatever these Wilder and Radcliffe are doing in Doc Hodges' mine. What they're doin' and why they're here of all places and what it has to do with whoever ransacked the Doc's place back in town. I'm guessing they're employed by one of the railroads, but I can't really put all the dots together. As for a cabin...well I don't think there's a cabin round these parts," he said.

"I don't know what to make of it, but if there's murder going on and we just wait out here till whoever it is comes out, it may not be all of 'em comin' out at the end." He seemed to look to Caleb for guidance in this matter. This might have been his home turf in a way, but a United States Marshal would probably have a better idea.

"I reckon that if folk are usin' it as livin' space, all the harmful gasses are probably aired out. We might have to watch for weak floors or cealin's, but the Marshal's right--we shouldn't stand around here. But don't douse that lantern...we're goin' into dangerous territory here. It ain't hard to slip and fall."

Daniel also shook his head at the suggestion they delay. "We come all the way out here at night fer a reason. I thought it was 'cuz we didn't wanna wait. So let's not wait no more." He looked to Gabby to take the physical lead with his mining expertise.

"'Fraid I'd have to agree with Daniel," Morgan offered, "That hand is headed into the mine, so I reckon the folks we're looking for are likely inside." He paused, then drew his pistol. "Just the same, everyone stay alert. That hand could very well be leading us into a trap.

Pausing to glance at the ground, Morgan added, "Lead the way, Gabby, when you're ready."

Gabby nods, takes up the lantern, and heads in.

As they proceeded into the mine shaft, the light from the lantern proved vital as they ventured into the pitch black darkness. The illumination provided revealed a somewhat broad entrance chamber to the mine that seemed to be carved out of solid rock. Wooden beams were periodically placed throughout the mine at intervals to provide support to the chamber. After a bit of walking, the chamber divided into two tunnels.

Darling shakes his head at the idea of entering the mine, not considering one man's life worth the risk of all these, but he takes his place at the end of the file.

Morgan kept his voice to a whisper, addressing Phelps and gabby. "I'm pretty certain the trail we've been following leads in here. Tracks come right up to the tunnel."

He shrugged, studying the darkness ahead warily. "Course, I can't follow any tracks on solid rock, but I reckon Wilder, if its him we've followed, is inside."

Dan Phelps frowned a bit looking quite disconcerted and scratched at his beard. "Looks like Fingers is back," he said, pointing to the disembodied hand that crawled up on the ground in front of them.

Morgan grimaced. "That smell from the left hand tunnel. That's rotting flesh. A carcass of some kind, for sure."

He glanced down at the hand, watching to see which way the appendage tried to lead them.

Daniel looked a Dan with confusion evident on his face, "Fingers? I been callin' 'im lefty. Seems ta make sense an all. I think we should follow Lefty wheresoever he's goin."

"Don't s'pose it matters greatly what we call it," he said, looking at the hand uncertainly. The hand itself was a strange sight. It was a whole human hand severed at the wrist, though it appeared strangely muscled. The eyeball implanted on the back of the hand was certainly unsettling, as were the claws that seemed to protrude from each finger.

It danced over towards the left tunnel, pointed down the tunnel, and crawled a bit into it, turning again to look at them as if waiting to see if they would follow.

"Figures," Morgan muttered as the hand gestured in the direction of the smell of decay. Colt in hand, he moved to follow the unsettling thing into the tunnel.

Holding the lantern to light the way, Coraline covered her nose and mouth with her other hand as the smell of rotting flesh grew stronger.

Randolph peers into the darkness of the right tunnel. He remembers his mama telling him "dead things can't hurt you" when he was a little boy. He sure wishes that was still true.

He hustles to catch up with the others, but with frequent glances over his shoulder.

Gabby, still unsettled by the creepy hand, wasn't sure he wanted to trust it, but Danial was a good boy, and he hated to admit it, but the place it was leading seemed to be the right way to go. So he swallowed his reservations and went onward.

This message was last edited by the GM at 18:06, Thu 11 Oct 2012.

Daniel didn't hesitate when the hastily reassembled wolves growled menacingly at the group. He slid his sword out of its scabbard while moving swiftly towards one of them and brought it across the thing's midsection, cutting it neatly in half. He then turned toward the other three and growled, unsure of how else to taunt them into seeking him out rather than the flesh of his uncle and newfound companions.

In the darkness no one could see Randolph's face pale and his chin quiver. He fell back a step, pressing his back to the rough wall. "Ajax?" he whimpered softly.

The coyote pup brought home from a hunt after its mother had been killed... nursed with a milk-soaked rag... sleeping by his bed, running at his heels through the pastures... forsaking its own kind to be his companion. How he had sobbed when the War came and the family moved, faithful Ajax left behind.

None of these creatures could be Ajax, of course, but still, how could he raise a weapon to them?
This message was last edited by the player at 21:16, Mon 15 Oct 2012.

Gabby himself could hear the fear in Randolph's voice. He didn't know who Ajax was, but at that moment all he could picture was his own beloved Clementine, crawling back from the dead with glowing eyes and an evil snarl...and it shook him. It shook him to his core.

Morgan took aim at one of the grisly coyotes, his mind steadfastly fixed on the hostility of the beasts, not the decayed, monstrous condition they were in. He took his shot, his target moving just as he did so, the bullet smashing harmlessly into the rock of the cavern.

After the powerful blow from the young barber's sword, the coyote neatly collapsed to the ground in a pile of rotten flesh and bones. Their growls were low, rumbling, and lacked the strength of most normal animals, but they continued to fan out, moving in slowly at first. At the last, they rushed in, vicious looking teeth glinting in the limited lantern light as they lunged for their victims with mouths that looked as if they longed for nothing more than the taste of blood. Seeing the abject terror in Randolph eyes only seemed to draw one of them, while another closed in on the local lawman. The third one dove right for Caleb after he missed his shot at it.

"Randolph!"  While not scared witless at the sight of the gruesome creatures, Coraline hesitated, unsure what to do.  Until the beast went after Randy.  The lantern swung in her hand as she whirled, fan flipping open in her hand.  Phantom cards appeared twice over behind the scant cover, though only one gave her what she needed.  Ghostly white light, barely visible in the mine, shot from her hand toward the beast that harried Mister Darling.

Randolph cries out as the foul beast hurls itself against him, its dingy fangs snapping at his face. He manages to get his arms up against the noisome body to almost hold it off, but feels one tooth rake along his jawline.

Screaming at the slash of agony, he sinks to his knees, his hands seeking the creature's throat. The pale luminescence envelopes the undead beast and its yelp of pain is music to his ears.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:43, Wed 17 Oct 2012.

The beast that attacked the young writer ended up howling in pain as something seemed to singe the flesh on its legs. The sickly smell of burning, rotted flesh seemed to soon permeate the room, overwhelming even the stench that fouled the stagnant air in this mine chamber when they had entered.

The coyote that previously lay on the ground cloven in two by Daniel's sword began to rise to its feet. The two halves of its body seemed to have knitted themselves together and it emitted a low growl, turning its gaze on the sword-wielding barber.

Daniel was perplexed at the instant-knitting ability of the wolf. It seemed quite peculiar to him for something that appeared sewn together. Was it somehow magically imbued with that capability?

He didn't ponder it very long, instead opting to split its skull asunder with a well place overhead chop with his blade. Satisfied that the thing was mortally wounded, he moved over to where Randy had been harassed by one of the devil's dogs, but the blasted thing dodged his attempt to sever its head.

Coraline wasn't about to let the mangy dog attack Randolph again.  While Daniel slashed at the beast, she let loose another stream of demonic energy, albeit very weak.

"Hell and damnation," Morgan muttered as he noticed the wounded coyote mending itself after being hacked in two.

Returning his attention to the decayed beast that attacked him, Morgan fired another round, aiming for the creature's skull.

Gabby puts the thoughts of his own faithful hound away and takes aim at one of the snapping things. "Make sure to aim fer the head, Marshal!" He shouts back to Phelps, and takes his own advice, carefully aiming at the one going after Danial, but also trying not to hit the boy. He fires, but the cursed thing moves as he does, and his shot is wide. "Consarn it!"

The brave Marshal whips his own Peacemaker out, taking aim for one of the critters, and squeezes off a round, but peing used to fighting human-sized foes and aiming for the center of mass, he finds it much trickier to aim for something shorter, shaped wrong, and in motion. His shot goes wide.

When the coyote bit into his arm, Daniel allowed the beast to remain attached to Daniel for long enough that the thing couldn't defend itself against the length of metal that went slicing through their air and then its skull. Daniel shook off the part of the beast that remained attached to the barber's arm and went over to where Coraline was now being harassed by one of the things.

An overhead chop into the things skull make it crack open as if it were nothing more than an overripe melon.

"Coraline!" shouts Randolph, rousing from his stupor. With one hand pressed to his bleeding jaw, he steps to the young woman and kicks the corpse of her attacker. "Are you alright?"

Morgan grimaced, leveling his Colt at the last of the decayed canines. Taking aim at its head, he squeezed off another shot.

"I'm completely fine," Coraline told Randolph, reaching for him as he neared.  "Oh dear, you look a bit worse for the wear, though.  One of those creatures got to your pretty face."  She grinned and peeled his hand away to get a look at the scratch.  Pulling a handkerchief from her satchel, she pressed the cloth against the cut to help stop the bleeding.  "You should ask the barber to take a look at that."

"I cannot wait to find the sonovabitch who done made those things." Gabby grumbles. "Oh yes, he and I shall have words."

When all was said and done, the local law man knelt down to examine one of the dead canines. "Damn," he said. "These are coyotes for sure, though they look like they been stitched up something fierce. And these teeth don't look right. They ain't coyote teeth or dog teeth. Never seen nothin' like 'em. Don't look like there's any sign of rabies though, so you should be okay," he offered to Randolph.

Daniel whirled toward the last of the beasts just as Caleb finished the thing off with a solid shot to the temple. He looked at the beasts for a few seconds, watching to see if any of them began to knit back together. When they failed to make any such movement, he slipped his sword back into its sheath. "Nice shot, Caleb."

He looked around at the others, and seemed not to mind the puncture wounds and blood that marred his left arm. "Ooo, Randy, Lemme take a look at what that critter did ta ya."

He scratched his scruffy chin and looked down at the little hand, which had been cowering in the corner. "Well, I s'pose any chance o' gettin' in quiet-like is gone now that we done fired our guns already. Not that there was much of a choice in it all." He followed the mineshaft as it went along, going a bit ahead of the others, and leaned cautiously forward, pulling back and returning to the rest of the group.

"I see some kinda light further down there. That's probably where some folks are, or that's what my gut tells me leastaways. Anyhow, I suggest that we proceed with caution and quiet, and assume they're ready for us. Once y'all get patched up, whoever still feels up to comin' on with me, let me know."

"Wilder, you crazy-ass son of a bitch." Gabby mutters as he pulls one of the odd teeth free. "What we have here is someone who is deranged. This here tooth comes from a nasty sort o' fish. These things were kilt, cut up, and sew back up as fuckin' weapons. We got a reg'lar Frankenstein on our hands."

Morgan nodded at Daniel's comment. "Thank you kindly, Daniel," he replied, "You sure show a helluva lot of courage with that sword of yours. I haven't seen someone fight with one of those things like that since the war."

He listened carefully to Phelps and Gabby. "Weapons. I wonder who Wilder was planning on unleashing them on...or selling them to? Maybe this Radcliffe fella was a buyer who couldn't meet Wilder's price and tried to take his wares by force."

Randolph draws away from the barber's hands. "That's alright, Daniel, I won't die from this anytime soon. You can put a patch on me when we're through down here."

He takes a step back and nods to the others, "I'm ready to go on."

Daniel nodded at the man's request and touched the brim of his hat, "Sure thing, Mister Darlin'. Jus' lemme patch meself up a bit 'fore we move on." Daniel tore apart some of his ruined trousers and started dabbing at the long gash on his left arm.

Moving past the dead animals with his gun in hand, he wanders down towards the tunnel the chamber that they were in seemed to lead to. He stopped part of the way down, and kicked at something. "I guess that weren't a light after all. Just some scrap metal reflectin' the lantern light. Might as well check down this way anyhow."

After a short walk of about a hundred feet, the tunnel came to a dead end. The law man cocked his head to the side, and turned to the others. "Y'all hear somethin'?"

Morgan frowned, glancing around. He looked to the right hand side of the tunnel, studying the wall. Shaking his head, he said, "I could've sworn I heard...well, it sounded like a scream. Coming from this direction."

He placed his hands on the rock of the wall, attempting to feel for anything out of the ordinary.

Gabby went over to the odd section of wall.

"Look here!" he says, and starts pulling at the false wall. "Plaster an' canvas!"

Coraline turned in the direction of the scream, fan out and rapping nervously against her thigh.  She pursed her lips as Gabby started pulling at a section of the cave, one brow lifted as it came away without raining rubble down on them all.

As Gabby felt at the wall and began to pull at it with his weathered but strong hands, the canvas and plaster began to peel away easily, falling to the ground. As the false wall came away, a hallway was revealed that went twelve feet down before opening into another area. The area at the end of the hallway was well lit, if not brightly, and lamplight spilled into the newly revealed passageway.

The local law man checked his gun one more time. It seemed to be a habit for him, as if ensuring that he had ammunition would solve all his problems. "Alright," he said quietly. "I think it's time." He pressed forward down the hallway making as little noise as possible, but with the gunfire that had come before there was little chance of this being a surprise.

At the last, he rushed into the room, putting his back against the wall and leaving room for the others to join him, pointing his gun outward. In between him and everything else in the middle of the room were six dead men with shards of ghost rock embedded in their foreheads...and the large monstrosity that had almost taken Jenny Linkous from the train.

In the center of the room on an operating table, the man who had been on the train just moments before lay there looking bewildered, strapped down and clearly helpless. He screamed again. "Help me! He's going to kill me"

At the same time, an older man with long gray hair stood at the back of the cave next to a table with a large device on it that seemed to be buzzing. In the middle of the device was a large glass chamber within which a large hunk of ghost rock could be seen. Connected with some cables to the device was a sort of helmet with goggles on it that covered the man's eyes though he looked right at the chamber near where Phelps stood. "This isn't the way I wanted this to happen, Marshal."

The sheriff looked shocked "Doc Hodges? What the hell are you doin' to that man?"

The greying old man at the back of the room didn't respond to the law man, but issued a simple command. "Kill!" he yelled, and the six dead men began to meander over towards the entrance.

Still last in file, Darling stops in the doorway, taking in the scene. As the dead men begin to stir, he sweeps aside the tails of his black duster to grip the gatling pistol slung there.

Gabby's a bit taken aback by the whole scene, but came up with a plan as the deadders began to lurch towards them. Whatever Hodges or Radcliffe or whatever his name was looked to be doin' wasn't kosher, and needed to be stopped.

So he ran, screamin' like a banshee, toward the table with the device on it. He racked a shell into the chamber of his gun, pressed the muzzle against the glass where the ghost rock core burned, and screamed, "DIE, DOOHICKEY! DIE!"

Then he pulled the trigger...

At the blast from Gabby's shotgun, there was a loud sound and a spray of broken glass, a broken machine, and a hunk of ghost rock broken somehow into five nearly identical pieces.

The cable connected to the machine was ripped away as the scientist reeled with what looked to be sudden impact. Wordlessly, he pulled back into the corner of the room and ripped off what he had been wearing on his head, tossing it to the ground. He looked around the room, taking in the scene again but said nothing else.

With his trusty blade in hand, Daniel walked toward the mass of dead flesh that had risen. He hoped that his comrades could take care of the rest of the mess.

With a quick swing of his sword just above neck level, Daniel carved one of the undead heads into a top half and bottom half. The former fell to the ground just as he rounded on another one. Unfortunately, that particular swipe sailed a miserable inch above its intended mark. He realized too late that this particular target was shorter than the others.

The shotgun blast didn't take him by surprise entirely, but he didn't expect the old man to go charging in and pumping his weapon into the machine of all things. As the blast went off, those things with the stench of death washing over them and black shards in their heads seemed to lurch for a moment before returning to normal. Daniel's wetwork was indeed impressive, almost mesmerizing, and the law dog was almost unable to look away. But he did eventually as something he saw out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.

The large monstrosity of a man was moving towards him, and he didn't know quite what to make of what he was seeing. "Zachary? Zachary Hanover?"

Growling it made for Phelps, but as he spoke, it seemed to stumble and stop. Stunned into silence, as if awakened by something it just stood in place, staring at him.

For an instant, Morgan was stunned by the scene before him. Despite all that he had seen over the course of that long day, it seemed he still could not completely get his mind around the reality of dead men walking the earth again. However, as Daniel and gabby sprang into action, Morgan quickly shook off the fog that clouded his mind. Raising his Colt, he snapped off a shot at one of the group of advancing dead.

Randolph steps to the side so that Daniel's not in his line of fire and swings the Gatling pistol up to level it at the deadmen on the right of the group. He presses the trigger and unleashes a burst of bullets.

Somewhat behind the group, Coraline flicked open her fan and reached beyond space and time and into the astral plane for a demon to wrestle.  Phantom cards appeared in her hand and then faded into nothing, twice over.  Pleased with the draw, she let her magic fly, sending two blasts at the creatures that had been ordered to kill them.

Suppressing a shout of satisfaction, Randolph shifts his aim to the next deader as it shambles forward and unleashes a second burst from the Gatling.

Two of the walking, wounded dead that still remained lurched forward, their heads not quite leaking blood, though their leathery flesh had been ripped apart by bullets aplenty. One flung itself uselessly toward Coraline, and another at Caleb. A third, threw itself not forward, but backwards, further into the room.

Seeing things starting to fall apart, he wasted no time on villainous speeches and instead made straight for the entrance, hoping to get by in the fray. As he neared the walking dead, one turned around and struck him a staggering blow in the face as he approached, causing him to reel slightly, and take a step back, clasping a hand to his face as the creature's claws had raked across his cheek drawing a few streams of bright blood.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:03, Fri 09 Nov 2012.

Gabby turned, ready to chase after the gray-haired scientist, but when he sees the madman's creations turn against him, Gabby decides it's time to let the man's karma catch up to him.

Instead of dealing with the scientist, Gabby hustles to the chair where Wilder sits. "Well, now, let's get you out o' here," he says, and tries to figure out the restraints.

Coraline had taken an involuntary step backward as the creature advanced on her, but the ineffectiveness of the attack bolstered her confidence.  She let loose another ghostly white stream of light, blasting the creature with magic.

Randolph pointed the Gatling pistol at the back of the thing attacking the older man and fired a burst.

As Gabby undid the straps binding Wilder to the operating table in the middle of the room, the clawed little detached hand the old miner had almost shot earlier slipped in and began helping to undo the man's bindings, resulting in profuse thanks to the both of them.

Another burst spewed forth from Randolph's Gatling pistol. Two bullets buried themselves in the thing that attacked the aging scientist that it had just struck, though it seemed not to be affected by the volley of gunfire striking its back. It was the last thing standing so far.

Morgan took a few steps, circling Radcliffe in case the older man tried to bolt once the dead man attacking him had been stopped. As he moved, the marshal tried to take aim at the dead thing's head, firing when he felt he had the shot.

Daniel looked about, satisfied at the number of reanimated bodies that were becoming re-dead. The remaining one avoided his first swipe at its forehead, but Daniel's second swing lopped the thing's head off at the neck.

He then turned his gaze toward Radcliffe.

The unnaturally large sewn together man that Phelps had called Zachary Hanover seemed to be half crouched and ready to spring, half cowering in fear of something, his face twisted in a mask of pain and rage that obscured even the most acute attempts to gauge his temperament, save that he seemed unhinged and ready to either explode in violence or collapse in pain.

The greying scientist, seeing he was outnumbered, seemed to back away a few steps, particularly from Caleb.

"The hell's goin' on here, Hodges?" asked Phelps. His tone showed none of the respect or deference he'd used while talking about the man earlier in the night.

"His name isn't Hodges - it's Radcliffe. Vinton Radcliffe, and he does terrible things to people, even his friends! He has no friends, and no conscience," sputtered Wilder.

"You're the one who taught me how to do what I do, and I did rescue you from the clutches of Hellstromme's goons. They were going to kill you, you know,"
they greying scientist replied.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:38, Thu 15 Nov 2012.

"Yeah, 'cause he oughta thank you for attackin' a train full o' innocent folk with dead folk given unholy life and then stickin' him in some sort o' brain-suckin' machine." Gabby spits at Radcliffe, hoisting his shotgun to cover any sudden movements the giant thing that had ripped the roof off a train car might make. "Maybe you oughta' start explainin' things. I bet you have a real good explanation fer all this."

"It's not a brain sucking machine! There's no such thing, that I know of, and I don't see the point of one if there was. Look, nobody's innocent. Some people are just less guilty than others - and certainly your friend Wilder here is no angel himself. He was working for Hellstromme studying the reanimation of dead tissue, and spilled those secrets to me."

"Hellstromme did hire me, and that was my job, to study those things...Yes, it was interesting but...I only told you what I knew because I thought you were my friend. Apparently, I was wrong...very wrong."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up 'ere." Daniel was still waving the bloodied sword about, happy to remind these fellows that he could end their life with a flick of his wrist. "Mebbe start from the getgo. Who hired who ta do wha'ta whom now? An' who betrayed t'other? I'm confused."

"Wait, who brought a kid here?" he asked generally.

"Young man, I worked for Hellstromme Industries - the primary enterprise of Dr. Darius Hellstromme. He also owns the Wasatch Railroad." He looked around for any signs of recognition from any of them before continuing.

Daniel gave Radcliffe a contemptible look, "At yer age, must be errybody looks lika kid, huh?"

He then turned toward Edwin and nodded. "So yeh work fer one o' the railroads. Iziss part o' one o' them rail wars er somethin'?" He sincerely hoped the answer was no as he didn't really have much of an opinion concerning who won a profit war.

"No, I didn't work for the railroads. Hellstromme Industries is a scientific enterprise. Like Smith & Robards? Have you heard of them, or looked at one of their catalogs?"

Daniel nodded, "Sure, sure. Them catalogs with all them fancy hardware an' drugs an' whatnot. Flyin' machines and horseless carriages and dine-o-mite throwin' things. You make anythin' so interestin'? Or jus' mess with dead bodies?" Daniel's tone changed to underscore how he felt about stitching together the dead.

"The kid's my nephew, and ten times the man you are, you gutless brain-suckin' Frankenstein." Gabby growls at Radcliffe. "Maybe you oughta hold your tongue fer a minute, less'n you want him to cut it out like he chopped up the heads o' them deaders you made." he turns his attention back to Wilder. "I heard o' Hellstrome. Read all about him and his inventions in the Epitaph, which don't have many nice things to say about him. Why's he want to raise the dead?"

Morgan snapped open his Colt, loading bullets into the cylinder as he listened to Wilder and Radcliffe. "Honestly, I'm not certain there's too many judges in this territory that would fault any of us for shooting you both dead, once they understood that you were behind these dead men coming to life." He emphasized his point by closing his loaded pistol. "There's a bunch of people back at that train that are hurt...or dead because of these things and I'm beginning to think that you're both responsible for that, at least in part. So you'd best start talking. Who's sent those things to the train and why? Did Hellstrome order it?" He looked at Radcliffe. "Or was that just your doing?"

Coraline's fan closed with a snap and she approached Radcliffe, studying him with open curiosity.  "Exactly what were you trying to do here?  Create some sort of army?  And why did that hulking creature try to steal way the woman from the train.  Was she to be your prize?"

Randolph spends a minute or so replacing the mostly-spent magazine of his Gatling pistol with a spare from his kit bag.

When he's done, he steps over to the device Gabby had 'de-activated' and peers closely at it. He speaks over his shoulder: "Mr. Wilder, would you be so kind as to explain to me the purpose and operation of this device?"

"I think you're mistaken. I don't know anything about dead men, and I certainly don't know Mr. Hellstromme personally. I make things like this. Simple, harmless things." He affectionately stroked the detached hand that was now perched on his shoulder.

"I didn't know he was going to use it for things like this - and I have no idea what the device is. I didn't make it - he did.  Though I could field a guess or two, I'd wager."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:50, Fri 16 Nov 2012.

"Well, then," Gabby says. "Start guessin'."

"He doesn't have any idea what this does," Radcliffe sneered arrogantly. "He couldn't invent it if he had his whole life and the schematic right in front of him. It connects the wearer of the headset to the corpse, through the connection with the ghost rock. Each fragment of the ghost rock imbedded in their heads comes from the same original hunk, which was in the machine. Which has now been destroyed, but I can rebuild one now that I know how. The next one will be even more efficient."

Randolph turns cold eyes on Radcliffe and his voice is even more freezing when he asks, "Why? Why do you want such a connection?"

"For the sake of science, of course. Research leads to progress. Who knows what great works will come from my discoveries? The next inventor will stand on my shoulders, and perhaps he will make something truly incredible. This is only the first step, the first stage. What more can we do? For example, when someone dies that had certain knowledge they took to their grave, could we then enter their minds and take that knowledge?"

"Progress, huh?" Gabby says. "Where'd you get all them bodies in the first place? Most o' them look a bit fresh to have been mouldering in a boot hill fer long. How many folks here died to fuel yer 'progress'?"

The local marshal stepped up beside Gabby, pointing an accusing finger at Radcliffe. "Oh, I'd love to hear about that. And Zachary Hanover, right there. What in the hell did you do to him? I'd recognize that face anywhere, but God didn't make him like that."

At the mention of name 'Zachary Hanover', the large monstrosity of a man winced as if expecting a blow and began to groan, releasing a long, and awkward but low noise. baaaaaaahhhhb. Otherwise he remained in his half quivering with rage and half reeling from fear state.

Turning to Gabby and the others, he added, "Oh, and I know where he got the bodies. The town's undertaker passed on shortly after Doc Hodges...or I suppose I should say Radcliffe now...moved to town. He'd set up his shop as a doctor, but volunteered to 'help out' and stepped right into the undertaker's shoes."

"Did he, now?" Gabby says, raising an eyebrow. "Ain't that a mite convenient?"

"A bit too obvious now, I suppose," he said. "As for our friend over here - he prefers the name Bob now. After the terrible fall from his horse that left him mostly mentally incapacitated, he was in quite a bad state and didn't last very long. All I did was reanimate his tissue and his mind....oh, and I gave him some horse muscles."

The scientist chuckled a bit mirthfully. "I killed the horse that killed him, and gave him the horses muscles. He'd always been a strong one and none too bright in life. Now he's much, much stronger and also much, much dumber."

Morgan turned to Phelps, keeping his voice low. "With all this, I figure there's more than enough to justify putting Radcliffe in jail and keeping him there until a judge can decide what to do with him. We probably need to get him to Kinsley as quick as we can."

He glanced over at Wilder, then back at Phelps. "For the moment, until we can establish just what is role is in this mess, I'd suggest we lock Wilder up as well. I know he claims his 'creations' are all harmless, but I'm not sure I believe him just yet. Even if he is as innocent as he claims, keeping him somewhere safe would be smart, in case there's more like Radcliffe that are after him. Hellstromme's people, for instance."

Holstering his Colt, Morgan stepped over to the giant Phelps had known as Zachary Hanover. Looking up at the enormous creature, Morgan felt a deep and genuine pang of sympathy, sharply aware that hidden within that monstrous exterior was a man. "Bob? Big fella, I want you to know something. Nobody here wants to hurt you, you hear? Not at all. In fact, I want to see what I can do to help you. My name's Caleb. Caleb Morgan."

Randolph thinks the Marshall's sympathy toward the creature called Bob is misplaced and likely to cause trouble. Townspeople are unlikely to see him as anything more than monster. A bullet in the brain would be a mercy. Still, that's not his decision to make.

"What do you plan to do with that fellow, Morgan? Leave him here on his own or take him back to Kinsley? Does he have any family hereabouts, Phelps?"

Though he began the questioning, Daniel was happy that the others had taken over. He was adept at swinging a sword, but investigation was something he was just beginning to understand.

"I could take Wilder down to my lockup in Kinsley pretty easy," he said, addressing Caleb.

"I'd wanna arrest Radcliffe over here too, but I'm not sure how well it'd go over in the town. Kinsley's a small town, and he's healed a lot of the sick over there, whatever sick things he's done otherwise. I don't rightly know how everybody'd react. All the crazy shit that's gone down here, I don't know they'd ever believe. Scarcely do myself. Could have a riot on my hands - and I don't have much in the way of many deputies to handle it. And the judges don't swing by our way that often."

"Maybe...y'all said you were headin' down to Dodge City right? It's a lot to ask, but we could 'cuff 'im and you could take him on the train down there. He'd see a judge quicker, and you bein' a U.S. Marshal and all, just take him to the law down there and they'll have him locked up in a jiffy."

This message was last edited by the player at 21:35, Sun 18 Nov 2012.

Daniel furrowed his brow. He could have been missing something, but he wouldn't feel right about not clarifying things before they parted ways, "'Zactly what is Mister Wilder bein' locked up fer? Makin' hands that scurry about? Yeh think a judge or jury is gonna believe somethin' 'bout him but not th' udder fella?"

"From what I hear of the story, for my part I don't really see that Wilder has done wrong here. Whatever else I might think of his activities, he hasn't killed nobody in my jurisdiction. It seems Radcliffe, on the other hand, has killed and injured dozens tonight, disfigured the body of Zachary Hanover, and perhaps done much worse many nights before this. If I took Wilder back, I'd keep him in the lockup for a little while, and then slip him out to some where after his tracks have gone cold."

Morgan sighed. "Marshal Phelps is right. We don't have anything to show that Wilder acted to harm anyone, unlike Radcliffe. I'd still prefer that Phelps keep Wilder under lock and key for a few days, for his safety mainly. There could be others like Radcliffe after him and his research. He could be cut loose from Kinsley once everything has settled down."

Morgan glanced at Radcliffe. "I can see Radcliffe to Dodge City. He should get a fair trial there. You might have to make a trip that way too though, Phelps, before it was all said and done. Your testimony about Radcliffe passing himself off as the undertaker, and what he did to Bob here, could be important."

"I'll need some help transporting him, though. I'd want him under constant watch. Lord knows, he may have more tricks up his sleeve."

Morgan turned his attention to the giant once more. "I don't rightly know what I mean to do with Bob, Mr. Darling. But I want to help him as best I can. I can't help but feel he's a victim in all this."

Morgan looked to Wilder. "Mr. Wilder, might you know a safe place where a fella like this might go?"

Gabby turns around and jabs his gun into Radcliffe's ribs. "I ain't got no problem helpin' you see this here grave-robbin' Frankenstein to cell in Dodge, Caleb." He says.

Radcliffe cooly surveyed them all, seeming to ignore the fact that there were several guns aimed at him. Unlike Wilder, who while relieved, seemed a very frightened and nervous man, Radcliffe didn't seem to be the least perturbed by the situation. "I suppose you all are under the impression that I intend to simply go quietly, and let this happen. That," he looked at Coraline, "how is it that all the card players put it, ma'am? That I don't have an Ace in the Hole, that I've got no trump card?"

"Well, I want to disabuse you of those notions. I'm not the sort of man to hold a grudge, though. If you all simply leave of your own accord - and you may take Wilder with you if you want - then I'm willing to let bygones be bygones. It'll all just be water under the bridge to me."

"Oh my stars and garters, how very generous you are." Gabby spits.

Randolph keeps his pistol pointed in the general direction of Radcliffe as he addresses the lawmen.

"I don't believe there are any legal grounds to hold Wilder, if he prefers to forego your protective custody, Marshal Phelps. It doesn't seem your jail and your few deputies will provide any real security for him against determined Hellstromme men, if you can't keep Radcliffe safe from a mob of citizens.

"As to Radcliffe, Marshal Morgan, how are we to transport him to Dodge City with a wrecked locomotive blocking the tracks? Why not take him back to Kinsley? I will assist you and Phelps in facing down any mob, until you can summon additional federal marshals and transport him to Dodge."

"I don't need your protection, though I do appreciate the offer. He's right, the writer here. Your cell won't help me from Hellstromme's men tracking me down. He's likely lost my trail already, and staying in one place will only help him pick that trail back up again. If you need me to give some kind of a statement about Radcliffe, I can do that...Maybe you could write it down. And I'll sign it. But don't make me go to the trial in Dodge, please. If Hellstromme had my trail, that's where his goons will look next once he finds out his men are missing, since that's where the train was headed."

Daniel was glad he had spoken up about Wilder, and was satisfied to let the others chat about the man's fate for a bit. Though he had one other item he thought it wise to bring up, "If yeh don' feel safe an' wanna keep movin', yeh could ride wit' us a bit."

At Radcliffe's words, Morgan drew his Colt and leveled it at the man. "Mr. Radcliffe, understand me. I'm perfectly content to shoot you dead where you stand if you won't come peacefully. I seriously doubt that any of my superiors would find me at fault for doing so."

He turned his attention to Wilder "Mr. Wilder, if you truly believe your safety would be best served by leaving the area, I won't try to stop you. I would ask you to give me that signed statement before you take your leave. I'm sure it would be very helpful when we get Radcliffe to court."

Shaking his head, he answered Darling. "Mr. Darling, with all due respect, I estimate that at a steady ride from the wrecked train, I could make Dodge in a little over an hour. Two hours at most. I've taken prisoners longer distances by horseback as far back as the War. Provided I can scare up enough mounts and have a few hands like Gabby to keep Radcliffe in check, I'd prefer to take him there.

Morgan paused before continuing. "I'll need to contact someone from the Agency as quick as I can. They need to know about Radcliffe and his experiments. And you're right about Bob, Mr. Darling. Innocent or not, there's no way we could take him anywhere safely." Morgan looked to Phelps. "Marshal, if you could keep an eye on him for a few days, I'll let the Agency know about Bob's whereabouts. They'll know how best to deal with him."

While the others were gabbing, Coraline stood in front of the sewn-together monstrosity that needed to be put out of its misery.  Her fan flicked open and closed, rapping against her thigh.  Turning at the mention of Bob, she frowned and glanced back at the creature, wrinkling her nose.

"I'll do my best, but I can't make any promises for what he'll do. He may have Zachary's face, but he ain't Zachary no more." He sounded deeply troubled as he said the latter, but then shook his head in resignation and plowed on.

"So what's next, we cuff him and get the heck outta here?"

"I appreciate the offer, but I think my road lies a different way than yours," he paused, as if he was about to say something, and then looked at Radcliffe for a moment then back to Daniel.

"I better not say where. Radcliffe would sell me out like as not, if he gets a chance. I don't know that Hellstromme wants me dead - maybe his folk just want to talk, and see what secrets of theirs that I've given up. But I'd rather not take my chances with it."

Daniel nodded at Wilder's plans. "Yah, I don think we gots much else ta do here. Th' brake man was gonna get some alternate transport ta Dodge, right? So's I think we go backta the train an' wait fer that."

"There's that buckboard outside too. I reckon' you can take that if its needed, or just the horse that's pullin' it. I figure the second horse is Mr. Wilder's here," he said, looking to Wilder, who merely nodded.

He paused for a moment before asking something that had been bothering him. "What exactly do we tell folks back at the train?"

"That we done destroyed the deadders and caught the bad guy controllin' them." Gabby says. "I can tell 'em all a story that'd make sense, I reckon. I'm good at spinnin' yarns."

"Since they all know about these animated dead men already, I suppose that won't do too much harm, but make them understand that it was just a local threat and all taken care of," Darling says to the prospector, "And we want to keep this quiet when we get to Dodge. We don't want to spread a panic, do we, Morgan?"

He turns to Radcliffe and Wilder, "Now, where are your papers, gentlemen? This will all go easier on you, if you cooperate. I'm sure that with your plans and journals in custody, there will be less likelihood of any lynchings."

Daniel nodded, "Muh uncle gabby shore can spin a yarn, tha's fer sure." Daniel looked about to see if they were waiting for anything else. He'd just as soon be out of this place.

"My papers are in a small bag that I seem to have left on the train. I have no other scientific materials here. If you will recall, I was rudely yanked out of the passenger car by that hideous monster," he added, gesturing to the hulking thing in the corner.

"Please, don't hurt me," Radcliffe said, the parody of an expression of genuine fear and a quivering voice. He put his hands up, and he cowered before Gabby and Caleb.

With a sudden bellowing roar, that 'hideous monster' exploded into furious violence launching itself towards them.

"Huh." Gabby says as the giant bares down on them. "If that's yer plan, I'd say it's got a big hole in it..."

He takes aim at Radcliffe's leg, and pulled the trigger. At that range, it was hard to miss. The buckshot tears through the scientist.

"You see, you done gave me an excuse to actually hurt ya." He says, and readies himself to avoid the giant barreling down on him.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:39, Fri 23 Nov 2012.

Radcliffe half yelled and half grunted at the pain from the shotgun blast which seemed to rip his leg apart, sending him collapsing to the ground in shock from the pain and unable to support himself any longer.

Coraline jerked as the monstrosity came to life, having been half-expecting it to attack, though was still surprised by the loud roar.  Stumbling back, she reached for her cards twice, but without the results she was hoping.  Dim white light streaked toward Bob, though neither did much damage.

If he wasn't already flared up, watching his creator assaulted was certainly enough to drive the thing that had once been a man named Zachary Hanover firmly over the border between grief and uncontrollable rage upon which he had been calmly resting before he felt a threat to Radcliffe. His massive arms reached around Gabby, closing in on him and gripping him in a crushing hug.

Morgan cussed himself as Bob charged Gabby. The Marshal was enraged at his own weakness, for allowing his own curse to blind him to the danger the undead giant presented. Leveling his Colt at Bob's head, he took careful aim, doing his best not to hit Gabby. The moment he had a shot, he fired.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:31, Sun 25 Nov 2012.

Darling angles to his right, looking for a shot that wouldn't endanger Gabby. The Gatling is by no means a precision weapon.

He gritted his teeth and growled in frustration as his attempts to crush the old man in his grasp seemed to be meeting with failure and dropped him as a bullet ripped part of his head away.

Gabby was expecting to be grabbed, and clenched his teeth as the giant swooped at his He felt his breath near driven from his old bones in the monster's grip, but Gabby was a tough old bird, and managed to fight against the crushing power of the man-thing's grip and remain conscious. When Bob dropped him, Gabby took a quick shot at his head, but missed entirely thanks to still being a bit winded and disoriented from the bear hug.

As the grotesque creature dropped the old miner, Randolph saw his chance. "Stay down, Gabby!" he yelled and cut loose with the Gatling in a long burst that probably expended half his ammunition.

"Let that man go Zachary!" he ordered, though the thing that had once been Zachary Hanover didn't seem to respond at all to the aggression in his voice. The rage lurking behind the hulking thing's eyes didn't care that it had once been something - someone - more, once upon a time. It no longer knew or recognized Zachary Hanover or Dan Phelps. It no longer seemed capable of thinking through anything. Zachary Hanover had once been a good man, but this was no longer him, and Phelps was certain that this wasn't what Zach had wanted for his life. It certainly wouldn't be what any God fearing person would want after death.

Staring at Zachary over the barrel of his Peacemaker he fired his gun, and it roared in pain but seemed only to grow enraged.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:56, Thu 29 Nov 2012.

Gabby didn't need any more urging. He planted himself flat as the gatling pistol went to work, then rolled a few feet away from the monster and chambered a round.

Last shot. he thought as he took aim at the monster's head, and squeezed of a round...

But Bob jerked about as Phelps shot him, and that carefully aimed shot missed the monster by a hair.

Damn.

"Damnation,", Morgan muttered as giant kept coming, still fighting despite its numerous wounds. Praying he might hit something vital (though what was vital on a dead man?), Morgan lined up Bob's head in his sights and fired another shot.

Daniel screamed out, "Nooooooo!" as the thing went after Gabby. In his exuberance, Daniel lost a bit of his concentration, and never made any solid contact with the thing's noggin. He so wanted to stop it from hurting his uncle, but wasn't quite able to do so.

At close range, bullet from the Marshal's weapon ripped into the Bob's face, sundering bone and tearing into putrid, rotting flesh. Riddled with holes, the face that was once recognizable as Zachary Hanover was now barely there - nothing but a mass of oozing unnaturally dark and thick blood, torn flesh and shattered bone. For a moment, he slumped backwards, leaning into the wall and was still before lurching back into action as it lunged at Caleb slamming its fist into his stomach.

An idea flitted across Cora's mind and she quickly grasped it, letting it take root and worm its way into her unconsciousness.  It was crazy!  It would never work.  Would it?  All she could do was make the attempt and let the cards (coughcough) fall where they may.  Taking a deep breath, she reached for the cork that stoppered the other dimension and kept it from flowing out.  Easing it open with the flick of her fan, she pulled the phantom cards from the ether and paled at what she saw.  Still, it would be enough, no matter the cost she had to pay.  The cards disappeared and invisible power flowed into her hands and to the giant monstrosity.  What had been done would be undone, and in typical grisly fashion.

Just as the giant man pulled back to strike another wild and powerful blow, something unusual happened and a fey energy seemed to inhabit the room for only a moment. The crude sutures holding the patchwork man together began to unravel, and what was left of him - bullet riddled and bloody as his body was from the barrage of attacks he had withstood - fell to pieces on the ground before them. Now that he was not held physically together, whatever forces had animated the man into a cruel state of unlife seemed no longer to persist as his arms and legs lay there at rest.

But that wasn't all that unraveled. Quickly, the stitching in the thread of Coraline's maroon dress began to come apart, falling down around her. Daniel's white shirt began to come apart around him, as did that worn by Randolph and Wilder. On the other hand, the denims worn by Gabby, Caleb and Phelps seemed to suddenly fall apart as their stitching unraveled. Radcliffe's clothing didn't seem to hold at all, save for his socks, shoes and undergarments.

Gabby blinks. He looks at the mass of meat that used to be Bob, then at the flaps of denim that used to be his Levis. "Wha...?" was all he managed.

Daniel had just taken a step forward to try to slice the bob in half when he started to become undone. His brow furrowed as he stepped back, though he leveled his sword in the direction of Radcliffe, just to let him know that Daniel was still aware that he was alive. He looked around at the others, suddenly glad of his suspenders, though he averted his gaze when it drifted too close to Coraline. "What in the name of-", he started, but didn't complete the thought. With a sigh he asked, "Anyone got a clue of what's goin' on here?" His gaze eventually settled on Radcliffe, though it wasn't an accusatory look so much as it was a safety precaution. That and he wanted to assess the man's wounds. He would probably need to patch him up to keep the man from bleeding out. Fortunately, there was a lot of cloth usable to staunch wounds just about now.

He removed his duster and held it out away from his body at arm's length in case anyone else might want to make use of it.

"What the hell!" asked Marshal Phelps as he saw his denims come unstitched around his legs, falling down around his boots, leaving him standing dressed as before but only with his drawers on where they had been covered before. Looking about, he saw clothing unraveling from the others around him. Being a proper gentleman, he averted his eyes when they fell on Coraline as her dress looked like it was unraveling around her.

"I've never seen anything like it," mused Wilder, as he held the component pieces of what had once been his shirt. "Quite the phenomenon. Something happened to cause Radcliffe's abomination to come apart at the stitches, and quite subsequently our clothing seems to be falling apart at the stitches. Or at least some of it. Inconceivable!"

The scientist seemed to have forgotten about the current predicament as he pondered the situation until his eyes fell upon the still form of Radcliffe. "Is he...dead?" Radcliffe's unmoving body was on the floor as it had been, all blood and buckshot.

Randolph let his Gatling hang from its sling as he removed his duster and draped it smoothly around Coraline's shoulders.

"I apologize for the weight," he murmurs, "But at least it will spare your modesty."

The marshal decided that there was not much that could be done about his lack of pants and knelt by Radcliffe, shaking his head as he examined the man's leg. "His leg is pretty fucked up," he said, looking up at Coraline for a moment and then tipping his hat to her, adding "pardon my language ma'am."

He cleared his throat and continued talking to the group. "But this is beyond my ability with first aid. We need some kinda surgeon to get him a fixer up. We can probably carry him over to that buckboard and take 'im back to the train like that. Maybe somebody back there can fix 'im up."

Coraline gasped as her dress suddenly fell to pieces and clutched frantically at the front pieces to cover her under garments.  Her eyes widened at the result of her spell, though the guilty blush in her cheeks was easily explained away by her condition.  She blew out a breath as her gaze touched the pile of dead flesh that lay scattered across the floor, undone by her magic.  Despite the backlash they all suffered, she had to stifle a grin at the result.  The demon had wielded its power well, though the strength astounded her.

Throwing Randolph an appreciative glance as he draped his duster about her shoulders, she slid her arms into the sleeves and pulled it tightly around her.  Once it was fully buttoned, she let her dress drop to the ground.  "Goodness," she said aloud as she bent to pick up the pieces.  Her gaze flitted to Phelps at his swear, but she only smirked.  "I think we should leave this place before something else... strange... happens."

His abdomen still throbbing from the giant's blow, Morgan paused to consider the situation, first feeling relief at the disassembling of Hanover, then confusion when he saw that he and the others had lost various articles of clothing. As he listened to Phelps' suggestion about Radcliffe, he decided to let humor prevail. Hell, it could be worse. At least it wasn't wintertime.

Worse than his physical injury was the lingering knowledge of his momentary weakness about Hanover. A hard lesson learned. He couldn't allow what had befallen him to keep him from his duty again. Monsters were monsters. All of them had to be dealt with at the proper time.

Turning to Phelps, he said, "I'll help you get Radcliffe loaded up, Marshal." He paused, then added, "I'm sorry for what became of Zachary. I'll do my best to see that Radcliffe gets what's coming to him in Dodge."

Addressing d'Alex, he asked, "Daniel, could you have a look at Radcliffe? See if you can't keep him from bleeding to death 'til we can find a doctor. Dying here would be way too easy on him."

He studied the mangled mess Gabby had made of Radcliffe's leg and smiled. "At least he won't go running off on us."

Daniel shook his head. "No, no runnin' anymore. I'll see what I c'n do." Daniel bent down by the man and checked to be sure he didn't have any weapons on him that he might decide to shove into Daniel if he awoke. He then began to work on the man's leg to see if he could keep him from bleeding out before they got him back to a surgeon.

Gabby struggles to his feet, the strips of denim from his pants flapping about giving him the look of wearing chaps, beneath which his white long johns were visible. "Well...I don't reckon I know how I'm gonna explain that to the folk back at the train..." he says idly as he picked up the shotgun shells that had scattered from his ruined pockets. He loaded his shotgun and shoved the rest into the pockets of his shirt. "Damn. You reckon this is a result o' that machine I blowed up?" He asks Wilder.

"It could be, though I haven't seen its like. But science is strange these days, and we're always discovering new things that we didn't think were possible the day before. Usually when one of these inventions misbehaves it has something to do with what it does. Maybe he used it to make that monster, and when you shot it...I still don't see why it should affect our clothing. But who can say?" He shook his head and shrugged.

"It would have to be studied more, and I don't think I'm up for that. As far as I'm concerned, all the things he's done should be left here and not used again."

Gabby nods. "I done hear that. So why didja make that thing there, anyhow?" He points to the creepy hand with the eyeball. "Gives me the screamin' heebie jeebies, it does, but it done alright getting us here. Is it like a pet or somethin'?"

"Just to see what I can do, I guess," he said, shrugging. "I got a link with it to my mind, and I can get it to run around and do stuff if its close to me. If it's not close to me, it'll try and find me. It's not too terribly bright on its own. When it got close to me earlier is when I had it write that message to you to come help me."

"It's as far as I wanted to take that, but I suppose I didn't think through the consequences of my research - that they might make someone try to take dead people and do things with them. I never knew that Radcliffe was a madman, I just thought he shared my appreciation for scientific discovery."

Morgan sighed, surveying the wreckage of Radcliffe's machine. "Truth is, Mr. Wilder, that hand of yours served a good purpose. It helped save your life. The sad truth is, there's a lot of good things that can be used for evil, should they fall into the wrong hands."

"Once you have your nerves back, sir, I'd appreciate it if you'd write down what happened to you, before we part ways."