I woke up on the floor and didn't know what time it was. My body was sore from falling and stiff from sleeping on the floor. I managed to get myself up and back into the chair and looked at the clock. I was pissed when I saw the clock and it was ten in the morning.

“Over six fucking hours!” I cursed out loud and I knew having no one else in the house had been a huge mistake. I needed to get to the bar as soon as possible and I used the phone to call for a taxi, specifying I had a wheelchair. I didn't bother getting changed, since I didn't have time. I did have enough sense to grab my cell phone and my keys before leaving the house and getting in the taxi.

I loaded myself into the rear passenger seat and the driver put my wheelchair into the trunk. The chair doesn't fold up, so the trunk had to be big, which was why I specified wheelchair when I called. I told him the address of the bar and to step on it as I tossed him a couple of twenty dollar bills.

“Yes, sir!” The taxi driver said. We flew down the road, rushing to get to the bar, and I thought I felt the tires leave the pavement a few times. Usually I'm very conscious of the road and tell people to slow down. Today? I had more important things to worry about. I tried calling the bar and there was no answer. I gathered my courage and called Mikki to tell her about my vision.

Mikki was quiet for a few minutes, then she spoke. “Did you call Jeanette?”

“No. There's not much point considering she won't be awake until tonight.” I said. “What's her secretary going to say? Or do to help?”

Mikki sighed on the phone. “Why did it take you so long to call me?”

“Actually, that's my fault.” I admitted, because I had been stupid and didn't let her make the call when I had the choice. “I waited too long after you left to try and call Luke about the investigation. That's when the vision hit me and I blacked out and fell on the floor.”

I could hear Mikki grinding her teeth on the other end of the line, biting back what I figured was a pretty scathing remark, and she let out a low growl. “David.”

“Yeah, I know.” I said, sadness in my voice. “Do you think I haven't been kicking myself for not listening to you and had someone with me just in case?” I asked. “If anything happens to Natalie because of my stubbornness, I'm never going to forgive myself... or ask you to forgive me.”

Mikki was quiet for a few moments, as if she was trying to decide to believe me. “Just... get your ass over there and find her.”

“I'm already on it. We're pulling into the parking lot now. I have to go.” I said as I unbuckled my seat belt. “I love you.” I added automatically and realized that I shouldn't have.

“Good luck.” Mikki said and hung up.

That threw me for a moment and I stared at the cell phone in my hand. I couldn't remember the last time that she didn't say that she loved me when I said I loved her.

I sighed and put the cell phone away. I think I've finally screwed up the most perfect relationship I've ever had. I thought and fought to keep my emotions in check. Dammit.

The taxi driver held the chair for me and I climbed into it. He shut the door and I saw the police tape around the doors of the bar. I was wondering why it was difficult to get a parking spot close by. I was hoping this had nothing to do with Natalie; but, my hopes have had a tendency of being crushed the last little while.

_______________

You have a choice to make. Will you try to bluff your way into a crime scene without any reasonable expectations to get in, or will you sit quietly and wait for someone to eventually come out and tell you what's going on?

A) Run a Bluff. B) Take your time and possibly disappoint Mikki.

That's not even a choice. I thought and wasn't surprised that no timer appeared. I was surprised no warning appeared, though. I'm going with A.

_______________

I rolled myself over to the police line around the club and I took out my ID. I was pretty sure that I didn't need it. “I'm David Drake and I used to work on the squad.” I said, sincerely hoping that a sense of old connections would garner me a bit of sympathy and possibly an in. “Who is the commanding officer at the scene?”

“Lieutenant Richards.” The officer said.

“Could you send for him, please?” I asked nicely, even though I wanted roll right over the officer and barrel into the bar to see what was going on.

“I'm not a messenger.” The officer responded.

My temper started to rise at that. What is wrong with these people? Didn't they teach proper respect at the police academy? I almost choked on my smart-ass remark and calmed myself down a bit. “I didn't intend for you to abandon your post, officer. I was just being professional and following standard operating procedure. Now could you please pass on the message that I would like to see Lieutenant Richards?”

He gave me a cop look and tried to size me up, which was really hard to do, considering I was sitting down. There wasn't any way to get a reasonable assumption about the capabilities of a suspect while they were sitting down and remained passive, so usually it was just a waste of time. He seemed to come to the same decision and reached for the shoulder radio that all uniformed officers wore.

The officer spoke into the receiver and I didn't hear a response. If the officer really did relay a message to Rick, then there probably wouldn't be. He never was someone that engaged in small talk or wasted time with pleasantries on the phone or the radio.

To both the officer's and my surprise, the door to the bar opened and a plain-clothes detective ushered me inside. I smiled, nodded, and rolled in under the police tape. I even managed to not glare or make any rude gestures or comments as I passed the officer. I really wanted to, though. I imagined the look on his face if I blew a raspberry at him and my smile grew brighter as I entered the bar.

The bar was still packed from last night's festivities and the patrons were separated from the workers. The bouncers looked a bit upset, I assumed because the cops were now doing the jobs of the bouncers and keeping order, while the bouncers were now herded into the same group as the waitresses and bartenders

It wasn't hard to find Rick in the crowd, because he was the tallest person in the room. To tell you the truth, he was always the tallest one in the room. I had never met anyone who was even close to being as tall as him, and that was saying something. I rolled over to him and he had a bit of a surprised look on his face when he had to look down, way down, just to look at me.

I had a bit of a shock myself when I realized that this was the first time Rick had seen me in the wheelchair. It's been over a month since my accident and he didn't visit me even once. My anger flared back to life at that and he must have seen a shadow of it on my face, even though I tried to hide it, because he reciprocated my anger just as quickly. We both closed down our faces at the same time and stared blankly at each other.

“David.” Rick said.

“Rick.” I responded.

“What are you doing here?” Rick asked.

“I could ask you the same question.” I countered.

“No, you couldn't.”

Ah. Down to the nitty-gritty. Fine.

“Look Rick, I don't care what ‘official' letters I get...” I started to say.

“What are you doing here?” Rick repeated and ignored what I said.

“If I see police tape around somewhere that someone I care about is, I'm going to come in looking for them.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I'm here to pick up Natalie.” I said.

Rick was quiet for a second before he said anything. “Natalie Maxwell?” He asked and said it like he didn't know that she was the Natalie I was talking about.

“Yeah. That's the one.” I said and managed to not roll my eyes at his behavior.

“I'm sorry.” Rick said and didn't look sorry at all. “She went missing last night before her shift ended.”

The blood in my face drained and for the first time in my life, I felt faint. Could it have really happened? It wasn't just a hallucination? I asked myself as shock went through me.

“Are you okay?” Rick asked, no real concern in his voice. “Someone get David some water.”

A cop was lurking nearby, I assumed to try and overhear our conversation. He nodded and went to the bar at the far side of the room. I wasn't ready to tell Rick what I had seen in my vision the night before. I couldn't explain how I had seen it, especially since I didn't know how it happened or why. I sat there in silence until the cop came back with a bottle of water.

I took it graciously and sipped from it for a few minutes while they both looked at me expectantly. Well, they can look all they want. They aren't getting anything from me. I thought and gathered my courage. “Can I see where it happened?”

“Sure.” Rick said and motioned to the officer. “Take him out back. I've got a few more witness statements to take care of.”

“Sure thing, Lieutenant.” The officer said and moved behind me to take the handles of my wheelchair. I quickly rolled out of his reach and raced ahead of him. He had to jog to catch up to me before I hit the door to the back rooms. I let him get the door for me and I rolled in.

When I got to the small back room that Natalie had supposedly disappeared from, I caught my breath at the few drops of blood on the plush carpet. The door frame was splintered where the lock on the door had torn it apart, just like in my vision, and this time I really did faint.

Or so I thought.

I was now in a small room with concrete walls and no light. I could see just fine, though. Chains bound my wrists and ankles to the wall behind me and I could see a door made of metal in front of me. The chains had a heavy weight to them and held me immobile, which meant I didn't have the leverage I needed to break them.

I was startled to think that thought. I couldn't break chains... but Natalie could. That meant I was seeing things through her eyes again.

The door opened and a frail looking old man stepped into the room through a halo of almost blinding light from the doorway and our eyes squinted from it. He spoke in the same accent that I had been hearing in my dreams.

“Sie hat mich nicht kontaktiert noch. Ich dachte, dass es Zeit war ihr liebstes Spielzeug nehmen. Vielleicht jetzt wird sie prüfen, mich zu begleiten...”

It was getting easier for me to understand German the more I heard it. Every time I had a dream or a vision about it, my mind seemed to be adjusting to it.

He said something about contacting him? Um... a missing favorite toy? Something about joining?

The old man motioned toward the blank wall beside us and for a moment a shadow formed there, then a male vampire stepped out of it. We recognized the vampire as the one who had bitten us last night. I mean he bit Natalie. He moved closer to us and turned our head. We tried to move and fight him; but, we were bound so tightly that we couldn't struggle away at all.

He leaned in close and we felt the same breath on our neck. It was in the same spot as before, which meant that he was about to bite us again. He wasn't even using his powers to make us think he was doing something else. As he bit down hard and his teeth pierced our skin, we screamed.

I was shaking slightly when I awoke to smelling salts being waved under my nose. I opened my eyes and looked around to see a couple of concerned faces. Not Rick's, though. He just gave me the best cop stare that I've ever seen.

“I'm... okay.” I lied, to cover up what I just saw. “I just... I haven't eaten since yesterday.”

I was telling the truth about that part and it seemed that the officers around me believed it. Rick only kept the stare and I knew that he would never let me near another crime scene after this. They took me out of the room and into the main bar area. I didn't press Rick for more details of the crime, since I knew he wouldn't bother telling me, even if he knew something. I didn't try to have him send me a copy of everything he found out, either. All I could do was play the grieving boyfriend and had him promise to call if anything new develops. Yeah, I wasn't holding my breath for that.

Once outside, I called Mikki and told her that Natalie had been reported missing and that the police were involved and handling the case. She said that it was great that the police were on top of things and hung up on me. I felt like such a fool that when I tried to call her back to explain about my vision and she didn't answer, I decided that I would just tell her in person later.

The taxi had waited for me, so I went over to it and the driver helped me in and put the wheelchair in the trunk. On the way back to my place, I had the taxi go through a drive-thru. I needed to get something in my stomach besides the coffee and a couple of bagels from the night before. I even offered to get him something. He declined and drove me home.

I was dropped off with my food and rolled to the front door. I opened it and entered my very empty house. I rolled to the kitchen and hit the button for the answering machine. There were a couple of messages from my old workplace and I listened to them while I ate. All each message said was to call them back when I could. Since I had some time to spare while I waited for night to fall, I called. Their secretary answered on the second ring and gave me the automatic phone introduction.

“Edith? I thought you were taking a vacation?” I asked.

“David! Hi!” Edith almost gushed. “I was going to take some time off, but Hank said that he needed me, so I put it off for a few months.”

The anger I had at myself over what happened, that I had been trying to keep a tight reign on, threatened to break loose. What was wrong with Hank? I asked myself to try and calm down. It wouldn't cost the business very much to bring in a temporary secretary for a few weeks while Edith took a much needed rest. It took me a few seconds to compose myself.

“I have several messages on my machine to call in.” I said.

“Yes, that's right. Hank wants to see you. When can you come in?”

I looked at my watch and it was only one thirty in the afternoon, so I had at least six hours before Jeanette and Nina would be awake. I had some... pointed questions... to ask them.

“How about right now?” I asked.

“That's great, David. I'll let him know you're coming.”

“Bye, Edith. I'll see you in about fifteen minutes.”

“Bye!”

I hung up the phone and called for another taxi. I wasn't surprised that the same guy showed up and loaded me and the wheelchair into the taxi. I said that I had an appointment downtown and told him the address. We headed over to my old workplace and I looked out the window at several clean-up crews doing their best to clean up the mess I had made of the city.

How much do you want to bet that insurance premiums all over the city are going to skyrocket after all the claims from this? I asked myself.

We arrived only a couple of minutes later than my estimate and the driver offered to stay again. I thanked him and rolled myself inside the old offices. I still regretted not being able to clear out the stupid forest of plants that greeted potential customers. Edith came over to me and gave me hug, then she ushered me into Hank's office with her usual flair.

I got an odd feeling when I saw a particular look on Hank's face. It was the same look he had when he interviewed prospective talent and rich clients. I held in my sigh and rolled over to the desk as Edith shut the office door.

“Hi, Hank. You called?” I asked with as civil of a voice as I could muster, considering how I was treated the last time I was in this office.

“I did. Several times.” Hank said, as if he was doing me a favor. “I heard about your little stunt yesterday.”

Oh, this can't be good. I thought and tried to cover my tracks. “What stunt?”

“Come on, David.” Hank said. “An army of zombies terrorizes the city and in the middle of their assault, a jeep that miraculously looks like yours shows up, then the army of corpses do a complete about face and marched... literally marched... out of the city.” He gave me a gloating smile. “It doesn't take a genius to figure out that you had something to do with it.”

“Yeah, I believe that just as much as I believe in Santa Claus.” I scoffed. “Who told you?”

The face that had gloated a second ago, lost its luster. Hank sat back in his chair and folded his hands on his desk. “Our source prefers to remain anonymous.” He said and readied himself for a barrage of questions from me that he thought I would use to pressure him into giving me a name.

I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction by jumping through verbal hoops with him. Not now. “Fine. What do you want?”

Hank seemed flustered for a moment and then composed himself. “Both I and the partners here, would like to offer you a job.”

I put a really fake smile on my face while I digested that bit of information. “Let me guess. You've been plagued by calls since yesterday from people that are asking to see the hero of the city, right?”

Hank didn't say anything and lost all expression on his face, which was tantamount to admitting it.

“Now that I'm about to get so much publicity, you want to cash in by hiring me back as a zombie raiser?” I asked. “Even after the several times I've been in here and asked for my job back?”

“We don't want to hire you in your old job.” Hank said, which surprised me. “We want you to be our public relations liaison.”

_______________

You have a crucial choice to make. This will change how the story progresses. Will you accept the job that will get you back into the company that you spent so much time helping to build their reputation, or will you throw caution to the wind and see where fate will lead you?

A) Accept the job gratefully. B) Accept reluctantly with misgivings. C) Tell him to shove it.

I didn't even have to think about it. C! C! I choose C!

_______________

This was the second time I just sat there with a fake smile. Public relations? Me? All he wants me for is to talk to the press? I thought and my anger bubbled up to the surface. I didn't want to talk to the press normally and he wants me to do it for a living? I don't think so. No. Actually, make that hell no.

The words burst from my lips before I thought about restraining myself or my anger.

“You sanctimonious prick!” I nearly yelled. “You get me to come all the way down here, make me get my hopes up that I was getting my job back, then you have the gall to tell me that you don't want to hire me to raise zombies?” I glared at him and my power pulsed out. “A public relations liaison? Are you kidding me?” If I was able to stand, I would have shot to my feet, just so I could point menacingly at him. “You know what I say to your offer? Two words. Fuck. You.”

Hank had never heard me curse like that before and his face lost some of its color. He also came to the conclusion that his little scheme to lure me in wasn't going to work. It looked like his face was getting angry and he was about to blow his temper, so I pushed him off track and told him something I knew would shock him.

“I'll have you know that the other night I raised a nearly three hundred year old zombie, using only a few chickens and a goat.” I spat. “Just a goat, Hank! Oh, and I got paid a hundred grand for it, too!”

Hank's face lost the rest of its color when he heard the ridiculous amount of money I made for a single job... that I would have made for the company... if I had still been working for them. He looked like I had just knocked all the wind out of him.

A moment later, there was a knock on his office door. Whoever it was, opened it without being asked and I was about to tell them to go screw themselves, until I turned my wheelchair and saw that it was Edith.

“The senior partners are out here in the lobby and they want to talk to you.” Edith said and wasn't looking at either of us.

“Which of us do you mean?” I asked her.

“I think the both of you should come.”

I gave Hank a scathing look that if it could maim, he would have lost all of his limbs instantly. I rolled towards the door and Edith stepped back out of the way. I noticed that she had the same scathing look for Hank, too. Hank and I had been shouting the whole time; but, I didn't realize that we had gathered such a large crowd of listeners outside of his office.

Everyone that worked for the company was there, including Mark, who was supposed to have been on maternity leave with his wife, Natasha. They were also supposed to stay at her parents place in the next state for a couple of months to 'raise the baby right', according to Natasha's mother. I rolled towards him with that question on my face.

“Yeah, I was supposed to be off.” Mark said. “The company hasn't been doing so well since you left.”

“What do you mean since I left?” I asked, slightly confused. “Mark, I was fired.”

It was Hank who spoke first of everyone there. “We voted him out while you were away, Mark.”

Mark had an angry look on his face. “You voted him out? Are you insane? David loves it here!” He said. “He's the one that made the most money and brought in the most clients. In fact, it's because of him that I stayed here in the first place.” He said and looked at everyone's guilty faces. “What is wrong with you people? Why did you get rid of him?”

Hank didn't even have to think about it and used the same excuse he told me. “It's too dangerous for him to be out there in a wheelchair. I'm sure he could handle a lot of things and might be able to be carried to some of the jobs; but, you know as well as I do that he can't physically do the job anymore.”

My heart sank at his words, because they hurt just as much this time as the first time.

“You are all idiots.” Mark said.

I reached up and tugged on his shirt sleeve. “It's okay, Mark. Let it go.”

Mark looked down at me with what looked like fury in his eyes, then they softened and he receded back into his old personality. “It's been a long time, David. You're looking good.”

I couldn't help but laugh, because I knew what I looked like in a wheelchair. Mark joined in and it eased some of the tension in the room.

One of the new people that I hadn't seen before today, turned away from us and faced Hank. “Did you make the offer to David?”

“Yes.” Hank said. “Since you apparently didn't hear his response, he turned it down.”

“What offer?” Mark asked.

“You mean the offer that is so insulting that I want to knock the building down around Hank's ears?” I asked in disgust. “They offered me a job as a public relations liaison for the company.”

Mark looked completely embarrassed and then looked at the others with the same disgust as I did. “If you don't give David his old job back, I quit.”