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Then he smiled at nurses and at a group gathered around a tabled patient on his right.

"Is that the buffet?" he said through gritted teeth.

The morphine was crawling around in his body, cleaning his joints and filling his muscles with delicious comfort and spectral strength.

Borland took a deep breath to clear his head and found his legs, steadied himself as he limped between the doctors through another set of doors and into a simple room with IV stand, table, a few machines and little more.

" Sssk…sss… Centipede," he slurred the word and chortled. "My roommate needs medical attention." He laughed.

"Up on the table, Mr. Borland," the doctor with dark Asian eyes said in an incongruous Scottish brogue. "Then we'll talk."

"Well, my room-bug doesn't speak English so you have to translate." Borland's knees buckled as he laughed, and the doctors groaned under his weight. " Room-bug…did you hear me?"

A nurse hurried in and the three of them heaved Borland onto the operating table.

He felt like he was floating.

The nurse threw a sheet over Borland and tucked it tight, immobilizing him. She pulled his left arm out and positioned it, held it in place with a Velcro strap and wrapped a blood pressure cuff around the bicep. Then she dug for a vein in his left hand and slid an IV needle into place.

"Penicillin," she said, tapping the clear IV bag before setting up a small curtain across Borland's chest.

"I'd prefer a martini," Borland drawled, his mouth starting to feel gummy.

Gravity fastened him securely to the table. His mind was spinning but clear as he watched one doctor leave and the other with the Scottish accent remain.

"We have rather traditional methods here, Mr. Borland," the doctor said. "But not that traditional."

"I got you, I got you." Borland tried to make a shushing sound but it came out like a wet raspberry. "Mum's the word."

The doctor was already at work. Borland felt a minor pressure on his gut and then the nurse asked him…

"How are you feeling, Mr. Borland?" She read from a list on an e-reader. They'd quizzed him during admission and he told them lies he couldn't now remember.

"Pretty damn good, blue eyes," he growled, then burst out laughing. "Where's my martini?"

"They're a favorite of mine too, Mr. Borland," the doctor said, glancing over at him as he worked. "Gin."

"It's Captain," Borland corrected. "And once we made martinis out of photocopier fluid down at the stationhouse. But, we couldn't drink it."

" Captain?" the nurse said. "Are you in the military."

"Variant Squad back in the day," Borland explained, and then shifted a furtive look between his doctor and nurse. "Can you keep a secret? Because Variant's coming back…but it's a secret."

He tried to make the shushing sound again, but the deep breath required to do it caused him to brown out.

Hello.

Zombie.

Centipede.

What?

His vision returned and his mouth was alive with taste. The nurse was dabbing his lips with a cotton swab soaked in lemon juice.

"That's good," he said, smiling lasciviously and then gestured with his head toward the doctor. "But won't he get jealous?"

The doctor laughed and said: "We received a bulletin about the Variant Effect from Metro Law Enforcement."

"What did I tell you? It's coming back…" Borland said, suddenly aware of a hard pressure in his gut and a growing point of heat. He felt a tug, then heard a mechanical click. "It's still in the water and so here-PRESTO!" He tried to clap but his arms were restrained. The table shook. The IV drip pulled at the back of his hand.

"You know," he said, catching the doctor's eye. "I feel fantastic."

"It's the morphine," the doctor drawled. "A favorite of mine too." He let Borland hang for a second. "But never on duty."

"Oh." Borland laughed. "That's the perfect place for it."

" Captain Borland?" the nursed mused, "I think I've heard that name."

"Probably lady, I mean, well I don't like to say but…" Borland mumbled, his lips tangling, and then: "I was pretty well-known back in the day."

"What for?" The nurse looked puzzled.

"Oh, well." Borland shifted his eyes away. "Good stuff too."

Borland shrugged and then apologized. "Tell me if I'm distracting you doctor." He made a fist, and then chortled, his mind rolling away from the big lights overhead. Then he said: "You know, we nailed Variant in Parkerville about a month ago." He pursed his lips. "But it's a new one."

The doctor paused, his eyes thoughtful.

"Nurse, how are Captain Borland's vitals?"

The nurse answered: "Pulse and respiration are fine. Blood pressure is high but close enough to pre-op to be considered normal."

"What's wrong?" Borland asked.

The doctor smiled with his eyes as he leaned over the cloth curtain.

"No worries," he said. "It's just that you seem very aware, Captain Borland. Are you feeling all right? We could give you something else, if you're anxious at all."

"I feel great!" Borland laughed. "But I've never been a cheap date. Especially after the old cranking days." He smacked his lips as a wave of warm exhaustion splashed over his mind. " Uhn. Gahn," he mumbled, for a minute in a swoon. The nurse swabbed his lips with lemon juice again.

Things went dark and then…

Where the hell am I?

"There we go, Captain," the nurse cooed. "Is that better?"

And Borland felt his mind kick awake again.

"So, Captain Borland, how bad is it?" the doctor asked, his muffled voice carrying real concern. "Are we headed back into the day ?"

"What do you mean?" And then Borland had a sinking feeling. What did you tell them?

"You said the Variant Effect was coming back." The doctor peered over the curtain. "How bad is it?"

"What?" Borland's mind raced. What else did you tell him? The pressure and heat were building in his abdomen. He tried to cover. "I meant before, like it was coming before. It was bad back then, is all," Borland grumbled and laughed, looking up at the doctor. "No worries."

He froze.

There was something up there behind the doctor, a shape, no a shadow.

A man? Someone watching.

Borland laughed as a wave of euphoria flooded him.

The centipede?

"Who's that?" he said, squinting into the overhead lights.

"Pardon me?" the doctor asked, flinching, following Borland's gaze up over his shoulder. He looked back to Borland like nothing was there.

But Borland could see a shape. Something dark and broad moved into the space over the doctor's shoulder.

"Right there," Borland said, gesturing with his chin and laughing. "Some ugly bastard."

Borland's vision cleared and the shape resolved into something big. It had a green, segmented body. And there were eyes-beady and shiny like its glistening shell-watching from under long fuzzy antennae while its serrated jaws dripped.

Borland laughed as it wrapped its barbed legs around the doctor's shoulders like it was an old friend.

"A centipede," Borland said, unable to feel any terror. He laughed. "Like the one in my room. But way bigger."

The doctor looked over at the nurse and nodded.

"Don't worry, Captain Borland," he reassured. "Hallucinations are common with the mixture of drugs in your system."

"A big green one," Borland continued. "Can't step on him though…"

The doctor looked at the nurse and chuckled, and Borland laughed.

Then something caught the nurse's eye because she looked past the doctor and her hands came up. The doctor just started to turn when a solid crunching sound knocked him forward onto Borland. He rolled off and out of sight. The nurse barely got a scream out before there was another crunch. Her body shook and she fell against Borland, her cheek striking his before she hit the floor.

Borland laughed.