Stephen walks past the secretary and pushes open the door that leads into Professor Pickman's former office. There are four men in this room, all wearing coveralls and painting hats. The office is a shambles - it looks like they are trying to expand the room or connect it to a nearby office. The men are literally tearing apart the walls with picks and axes, and the air is thick with the smell of plaster.
One of them steps forward and wipes caked dirt off of his forehead with a rag. "Sorry, kid. Teacher's not here." The look on his face is that of someone who has nothing but contempt for college-kids. The other workers look on at the exchange with equal amounts of scowling and snickering.
Meanwhile, Alex steps into the front office, the door closing behind him. He looks down at the crouching secretary. "Hi there. I'm Alex - an old friend of Alan's. I'm here to pick up some old belonging's of his..." As the secretary rises to greet him, Alan begins to suddenly feel... odd. It is almost as if he can feel his brain pulsing. There is a sharp pain at the front of his forehead for a brief second, and then it is gone. And in it's place... something else...
The secretary stands and looks at Alex with a quirky smile. She is young and willowy, perhaps 18 or so, her hair done in a pitch black that is obviously dyed. Her clothing attire however is pure business, accentuating a perhaps too-thin body. Cute, perhaps except for the dark shadows underneath her eyes. And the bizarre slug-like creature that seemingly floats about her as if it were a pet!
It is almost translucent, and reminds Alex of nothing less than a barracuda - A 2 and 1/2 foot long strip of mottled flesh capped by a row of razor sharp teeth. But not like normal teeth - each one looks like a sharpened needle, or syringe. The creature seemingly swims through the air, and constantly seems to be grinding it's teeth as if hungry. The girl seems oblivious to it.
Alex steps back, in horror - momentarily stunned. The secretary gives a brief high pitched giggle and smiles. "Are you ok? Anything I can help you with?"
Elsewhere...
Randy hops in his car and begins the long drive to the asylum. Care Facility, he reminds himself. Whatever you want to call it in the age of political correctness, it's still the place where you store the loons.
As he's driving up, he remembers what Julia said - it may require a bit of work to be allowed in to see the girl. Normally when a patient is really bad off, only relatives or doctors can get in to see them. And usually only with supervision. Which probably won't do for the things I need to ask her... Randy looks down at his cell phone and ponders what to do.
Elsewhere...
"How - ," Ray starts uncertainly, "exactly are they going to die? I don't know that much about numbers, I'm afraid, never did. It took Alan's help just to pass college math; so I never got into the theoretical numbers thing..." Ray trails off, and looks hard at Alister, hoping that mentioning Alan's name will get a more solid reaction out of him. His patience for riddles is about shot after last night.
Alister looks at Ray with a mixture of sadness and sympathy. "It's ok, Doc Silver. Knowing math isn't all it's cracked up to be, ask Alan." Alister grabs a marble bookend from Ray's desk and begins to examine it close-up, unmindful of the books that begin to fall, domino-like, to the floor.
"I mean they're going to die, Doc." says Alister, before Ray can say anything about the books. "They're going to get pierced, shot, cut, stabbed, stepped-on, and then one of them is going to have their brains sucked out through the back of their skull." He continues to inspect the bookend with total fascination. His lips continue to move, however.
"I've seen it, because the path of numbers is a doorway to both the past and the future. Alan was the greatest of us, and the best at keeping it together. It was a gift for destroying God. He means well, Doc. He wants God to come back. But if he is successful, if it works - if he finds what is lost - every single digit ever rolls back to zero. Trust me on this one, Doc." Alister looks up and sets down the bookend. He looks at the fallen group of books as if utterly surprised.
Ray, you can clearly see a host of small insects - probably mites - writhing in and out of Alister's hair. Some even stray into his face, but as usual he does not notice.