Dr. Raymond Taryn's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

Vance came back at two in the morning with the fresh corpse wrapped in a tarp. He hauled it down the crypt stairs and dropped it on the table beside the spoiled one. "Young fellow, like I said. Barely cold." He smelled of gin and wet earth. His hands were still filthy from the grave. Taryn moved fast. He strapped the brass dial to the body's temples and pressed the copper needles into the neck. The serum glowed cold and green in the vial. This was the one. Fresh nerves. A mind he could pull back. He had waited eight days, and now the clock was minutes, not hours. "Elliot. The scalpel. Open the throat and hold the field." Elliot picked up the scalpel. His hand shook so hard the blade rattled against the tray. The medical student had watched a body with no pulse sit up in this room. He knew now what Taryn was. "I can't," he said. His voice stayed flat. "My hands won't do it. And if I cut wrong, I kill the nerve you need." "Then steady them," Taryn snapped. "I'm done." Elliot set the scalpel down. "I'm leaving. Keep my file. I don't care anymore." He turned for the stairs. Taryn grabbed his arm. The window was closing. Without a second pair of hands holding the incision open, he could not cut and run the current at once. The whole night died here. "Walk out and the body rots. Eight days wasted. You stay, or there's nothing." Elliot pulled free. He reached the first step. "I'll hold it," Vance said. Both men looked at him. The grave robber wiped his hands on his coat. He never came past the stairs. He never touched the work. "I dug it up," he said. "I want to see what you do with it." He stepped to the table. His grip was steady. Hands that broke frozen soil did not shake. Taryn showed him where to pull. Vance set two thick fingers against the skin and spread the throat wide. The field held open, clean and still. Taryn cut. He threaded the needle deep and turned the brass dial. The glow rose. The dead chest jerked once under his hand. Elliot stood frozen on the stair, watching. He did not come down. He did not leave. The body's jaw dropped. A sound came out, low and wet, like wind in a pipe. Vance held the throat open and stared into the opened neck. His face went white. He did not let go. "Keep it there," Taryn breathed. The current climbed. Vance held. But his eyes had changed. He had wanted to know what Taryn did down here. Now he knew. And whatever walked the cemetery at midnight, he no longer believed it was his imagination.