The city is a sprawling metropolis, home to eight million people it stretches far up the coast on either side of the harbour and the river that snakes its way through the heart of the city, dividing it in two. In the distance a huge mountain range stretches across the horizon, beyond the city limits that come to a sudden and inconspicuous end with a lonely train station in the middle of some grassy fields. Just a handful of kilometres away the terrain starts to rise into the hills that ascend into the mountains, their peaks reaching beyond the clouds for the heavens above. The mountainous region is home to a number of small communities and provide a barrier between the city and the small towns that dot the wilderness beyond. The mountains are part of an expansive national park frequently visited by tourists, hikers, campers and thrill seekers.
Nestled in the hills at the base of the mountains sits an old tavern owned and operated by the same family for the past seventy years. That family is one with a terrible secret, one with a perverse hobby that's gone largely unnoticed all this time. Occasionally hikers or campers that venture into the forest disappear never to be seen again. It's always assumed they got lost in the vast expanse of the National park, despite signs and warnings to not venture far from the tracks about a dozen people a year simply vanish from the face of the earth. Unbeknown to an unsuspecting public those missing tourists always ended up at the Outhouse Tavern, served up as dinner by the enterprising Carter family.
This night is no different as the matriarch of the family Doris, known more affectionately as Ma, is taking a meat cleaver to the fresh corpses of an Asian couple who had wandered off from a tour group, getting themselves separated for a few minutes. That's all it took for the predatory Carters to strike.
One of their hick sons, a huge, bald, fat man who must weight 200 kgs sits at a booth in the closed tavern, chipping away at a bit of wood with a small chisel as he carves a small figurine into the wood. The other two sons sit on stools at a table near the bar, playing a game of cards. One with a ludicrous looking bowl cut and the other with a mullet haircut that goes down to his arse.
Ma hacks away at the corpse on the bench behind the pass as Pa wipes his forehead with a hankie. "Woooo! It's a sweltering' one tonight, boys!" he exclaims, looking back at his wife working away. "You need any help back there Ma?"
"No, you fellas dun good catchin' these Asians, so I'll carve em up good n' proper!" she says with a smile.
"How bout you just come and give me a hand movin' em, Joe," she says to the guy with the mullet who groans and complains. "Do I got to? Why me?"
"Now now! Don't you sass your mother!" Pa chides him with a frown from his seat at the bar. "She does a lot for this family! The least you can do is help out!"
Joe rolls his eyes and gets up from his seat. "I know, I'm comin' ma," he pouts. "What you gonna do with these ones?" he asks.
Ma hems and haws as she considers it. "I dunno, I was thinkin' maybe they would make for a good stir-fry!" she says with a cackle.
I choose this as my moment to strike as the skylight in the ceiling shatters into a thousand pieces when I jump onto it, glass flying in all directions as I drop through the skylight into the tavern, landing on my knees from the high drop as I right myself and stand there in silence, the family frozen in momentary shock at the sight of the black clad intruder that's just dropped from above, sending shards of glass flying.
Ma screams in surprise as Pa gawks at me wide eyed. "Bill hiddy!" he declares.
Joe's look of shock changes to one of recognition as the third son, Ted cries "It's him!"
Joe runs past me, grabs a stool from the bar and comes running at me, swinging it like a baseball bat as I duck under it and drive my fist into his stomach, leaping to my feet as I deliver a huge uppercut under his chin, snapping his head backwards as he's sent reeling into the wall with a thud and falls to the ground in a heap, the stool clattering to the ground beside him.
Ted is up and running at me with a blood stained machete, screaming like a maniac as he hacks at me wildly. I lean aside of the first careless strike, then withdraw my own short bladed katana to block a slice at my head, flipping it around and bringing it down to deflect a swipe at my middle as we engage in a duel.
The big guy is on his feet now, lumbering at me from my left as he lashes out with a hand the size of my skull. I duck under his clumsy swing and dance around him to his left, delivering a side kick to his kidney that doubles him over with a grunt of pain, I hop on the spot switching legs as I roundhouse kick him in the face, sending him stumbling backwards as I leap forwards and hit him with a flying kick to his sternum that sends him crashing into the bar.
Ted is on me once more as I back up across the tavern floor under the fury of his relentless assault of stabbing, slashing and hacking. He's expending a lot of energy to achieve nothing, stupid.
I deflect his wild swings, then locking blades with him I shove his aside as my foot comes up and kicks him in the side as I pivot, the blade slashing across his exposed throat with a spray of dark, arterial blood that splashes all over the timber floor.
His eyes widen in surprise as he gives a gurgled choking sound and collapses in a rapidly expanding pool of blood.
"Ya god damn sonna bitch!" Pa shouts, cocking a shotgun as I freeze, caught in his line of fire.
"Fuck!" I say as the shotgun roars and unleashes its deadly payload. The force of the blast sends me flying into the wall behind me with a thud as I bounce off it and onto the ground, losing the short sword in the process. With a pained groan I drag myself up onto my hands and knees as Pa looks on in shock to see me still breathing, the carbon nanotube armour I'm wearing saving my life.
As I climb gingerly to my feet the old hillbilly cocks the shotgun again and I bring my arm up, launching a steel bolt that drives itself into his skull through his left eye before he can shoot me again.
Ma lets out a blood curdling scream from the kitchen as she sees her son die in a pool of blood and her husband go down with the bolt through his face; taking up the meat cleaver as she comes running out from behind the kitchen and charges at me, holding it up over her head as she screams in fury.
I turn to her and launch another bolt from my wrist gauntlet that takes her in the throat, her scream becoming a choked gurgling as she drops the cleaver and falls to the ground, clutching at her throat as blood floods her mouth and oozes out from between her fingers.
Joe climbs to his feet and runs at me, hurling several balls at me from the billiards table as I dodge one and block another, as it bounces off my forearm and goes sailing across the room. He screams in rage as he picks up a cue and rushes me, swinging it wildly as I block his clumsy attacks with ease, leaning aside of one, ducking under another, leaning back from a wide baseball swing and drawing the knife at my side as I weave aside of another swipe and step inside his reach, grabbing the cue mid-swing, stopping it in its path as I drive the blade into his guts, twist and pull it out, dumping his guts all over the floor as I disembowel him.
A primal roar takes me by surprise as I turn and see the huge fat man come barrelling towards me.
"Shit!" I mutter as he crash tackles me, his massive bulk driving me into one of the booths by the front window as he wraps his huge arms around my body and starts crushing the life out of me. I struggle against him, grasping for the knife at my side as I struggle not to drop it, its becoming more difficult to breathe as this brute crushes me like a grape. It takes a monumental effort just not to drop it. With a snarl of contempt I manage to raise my arm, twisting the knife around in my grip as I bring it down into his neck one, two, three times as he howls in agony and blood gushes from the wounds as his grip on me slackens and I slid aside, pushing him away as I free myself and he goes limp as the life flows out of him.
Breathing heavily, my ribs sore from his energetic hug, I take a moment to collect myself and survey my surroundings. The tavern looks like a slaughterhouse; there's dead bodies and blood everywhere, but my job's only partially complete.
Gathering my weapons I begin searching the property. In the kitchen I find the partially dissected bodies of the Asian couple and two other corpses in the big freezer out the back. But its the shed outside that's my real goal. Forcing the doors open I reveal the meth lab hidden away inside, the Carter's being the productive manufacturer of a local supply chain that's been poisoning the streets. I pour gasoline all over the lab and then torch it, pausing momentarily to watch as the lab explodes in a ball of flames before I head back inside and continue my search.
I find what I'm looking for. Inside the tavern office there's a list of names with contact details and order summaries written on a board hanging next to the phone. The list of their customers who've been supplying their meth to the streets, a list I plan to make my way through one by one. Taking it I run my gaze over the list and read the first name at the top. Gary Hudson, manager at a small gas station in the suburbs.....It was time for me to pay Mister Hudson a visit.
********
Catherine's bike skids to a stop at the entrance to the gas station, its glowing fluorescent lights giving the place an artificial glow that feels cold and sterile, as opposed to warm and welcoming. "Time for some late night snacks!" she declares as she dismounts the bike, kicks out the stand and saunters in through the automatic doors as she walks into the store.
"Hhhmmmm...." stroking her chin she looks around, trying to decide what she's in the mood for when she realises she's alone in the store, there's no other customers inside and no one outside filling up their vehicle. There's also no sign of the manager as she cocks her head and listens for signs of activity. The only thing she hears is the soft buzz of the lights overhead and the droning of the row of fridges.
"Hello? Anyone here?" she cries out. No response. "Heh, that's odd," she says to herself, her curiosity aroused as she decides to explore. Maybe old Gary was napping out the back? Maybe he'd had a heart attack or trapped himself in the cool room or something. She walks towards the door to the back of the store, as she approaches she smells a pungent stench that she recognises. Sniffing the air like a cat, she frowns. "Blood?" She says to herself, then smiles. "Yummy!" She pushes open the door to the back room and steps through the doorway only to freeze at the sight that greets her.
The Plague Doctor stands over the bloody corpse of the manager, the body staring wide eyed in horror at the ceiling, blood still oozing from the gash in his throat as it pools around him in a puddle of sticky crimson gore.
Then there's him; the Plague Doctor standing right in front of her over his victim in all his dark, menacing and mysterious glory. He holds his mask in one hand, his youthful, ruggedly handsome features studying the corpse, long dark hair tied back in a ponytail.
"Oh my god!" she shrieks in excitement. "No fucking way! It's you! Is it really you?" she asks excitedly, shivering with delight.
I, the Plague Doctor, suddenly turn and notice her "Fuck! Shit!" I swear as I awkwardly fumble with my beaked mask, slipping it over my head as it covers my face, adjusting it as she gawks at me in wide eyed surprise. I gaze at her from behind the mask. "Where the fuck did you come from?" I ask, my surprise giving way to anger as I realise I stuffed up, let my guard down, and now this is a problem I'll have to deal with. Great! Just what I need; a witness who saw me without my mask on and can identify me. This complicates things more than I need. "Eh, no matter!" I say, taking up my knife and stepping towards her.
Her heart is pounding in her chest, her chest heaving with every breath as she's consumed by a rush of delighted joy that makes her convulse. "Ooooohhh Mmmmmyyyyy Gggoooooooddddd!" her eyes wide and consumed with ecstasy.
I freeze. "What the fuck? Are you okay? Are you having a fit or something?"
Catherine's eyes dilate with maniac excitement. "Fit? Noooooooo! I'm having a religious experience!" she declares. "This is a work of art! The way his corpse is positioned on the floor, the wide eyed look of shock on his face, the way his neck is slashed open like a butchered hog, the blood pooled around him. It's a masterpiece!"
I frown as she steps past me and crouches next to the corpse, getting a good look at the wound, a finger-less glove reaching out to poke it. She looks up at me with a mischievous smile "Can I taste it? Just a little bit?" she asks, almost pleading; her eyes echoing the sentiment along with something else; like something consisting of both worship and hunger.
"What?" I say, forgetting myself as I'm overcome with confusion. "Taste it? No you can't! Jesus, what's wrong with you?" I ask, dumbfounded. "Great, just my fucking luck! I have a witness stumble in and catch me at work with my mask off, only for them to not just be a fan, but a fucking lunatic!"
She stands and walks back over to me. "Unless you're going to kill me now? Thatwould be amazing!" she practically gushes. "To be killed by my hero! Here, I have my own knife, you can stab me with that!" she cries, reaching into her stripped stockings and withdrawing a switchblade, offering it to me with both hands like its a sacred offering.
"Stab you? Christ, what a nutjob! and people think I'm crazy!" I say with a snort, shaking my head. I slap the switchblade out of her hands and grab her by the scruff of the neck, pulling her close as I glare down at her from behind the mask. "Don't play games with me girl!" I snarl.
She gasps in delighted surprise as I manhandle her, her pupils dilated with excitement. "Playing games? Oh I wish this was a game!" she giggles. "That would be so much fun! but nah, I'm not playing. This is better than make believe, it's real!" she says, her lips curling into a demented grin. "I'm a big fan of your work! I've been following you ever since you killed Father O'Malley! Such sweet vengeance!" she gushes. "They say you're a serial killer, but I know better, you only kill monsters who hurt people! And the symbolism, there's often something symbolic about your kills. Like with the father how you left rosaries around his...."
"Shut up!" I bark, shaking her roughly. "I don't have time for this," I snap, trying to think of what to do with her.
"I know all about Gross Gary!" She insists, nodding in the direction of the corpse. "I saw him grooming neighbourhood kids, giving them free snacks. Saw him coach and get them to sell drugs for him. Getting some of those cute girls hooked on his produce and willing to do anything he asked for another taste," she says. "But I didn't call the cops or tell anyone; I took notes!" she chuckles, "learning all about how he works, wondering if you'd show up to gut him. I could've done something, but I didn't; do I get a special spot on your list; Pleeeeassssseeee?" she asks, batting her eyes at me.
I snort in derision, sliding the knife into its scabbard at my side as I cuff her roughly up the side of the head. "The beat cop, the detective, the minister, the lawyer, the banker; they all got onto my list because they preyed upon innocent people. I'm the Plague Doctor, here to cure the plague of predators, psychopaths, serial killers and scum that infest this city! Vengeance and justice for the innocent and death to the guilty!" I declare. "I have a strict code that I work by; passive witnesses don't make the list. Do you know how many people I'd have to kill if I included them? Hundreds, probably thousands! For various reasons, it's not enough." I take a step back and hold her at arms length by the neck as I look her up and down, shaking my head. "You're just an idiot with delusions of grandeur!" I snarl, throwing her to the floor and storming out.
I get to the gas station door and stop. Instead of leaving I lock the door and turn back, a thought occurring to me. Returning I head over to the power board and flick the switches, turning off all the lights except for the back room. Anyone coming past would take it as a sign the place was closed and move on. "How long were you watching me for? Did you see my face?" I demand.
She lands on the ground in a heap, but quickly scrambles to her feet. "Hhhmmm...I dunno, about four seconds? And yes indeedy; ruggedly handsome with brown eyes, long dark brown hair and a look that says I'm deep in thought n' really frustrated; although I didn't get a real good look at you, considering the angle n' all," she says with a nod. "What was that all about?"
I grunt and she smirks. "So, what're you gonna do with me, Doc? Cut me up into bite sized pieces? If you're not gonna, wanna go get waffles or something? I know a great waffle place that's open late!" she says, excitedly.
I narrow my eyes at her as I ponder the situation. If she's seen my face and got a good look at me then she can give my description to the cops, which means she's potentially a massive problem that could not just hinder my work, but bring it grinding to a halt. I sit in the desk chair and sigh, unceremoniously removing the plague doctor's mask, my ponytail almost coming undone in the process as I reach back and tighten it. I smile at her, sweat beading on my forehead from how hot it is inside the mask. "Well now we know you've got a good look at my face for sure," I say to her. "Question is, what do I do about it?"
Her eyes widen as I take my mask off and she lets out a gasp, watching with the rapt attention of a cultist having a divine revelation. She presses both hands to her heart and whispers "Holy shit! You're pretty!" swooning before she shakes her head to snap herself out of it. "Ahem! Look, I live for this shit! The theatrics! Your honour code! The sweet bloody vengeance enacted on behalf of victims!" she cries, dropping to her knees in reverence. "Take me with you, please! I promise I'll be good, work real hard, listen and learn heaps and do as you say! Pretty please! Let me join you!" She begs, like a child pleading with their parents.
Strangely I find myself hesitating. She demonstrated a useful ability for detective work in managing to uncover what Gary was up to.
"I have connections on the streets, know every dodgy fence and two bit drug dealer this side of the river!" she continues. "Thanks to a life of practically living on them; and if you ever decide it's better to off me? I'll hand you the knife myself! Cross my heart and stab it!" she declares, wide eyed and hopeful. "Sooooo, how bout we go get some waffles and talk about it?" she asks, eyes big and bright as she blinks up at me, batting her eyes as she holds her hands together, pleading.
I smile as she echoes my unspoken sentiments, taking my time to ponder the situation. "Hhmmm, I was just considering that option myself....If you were to become my apprentice there are some ground rules to cover, but that can wait. First we have to solve the problem we have here," I gesture around. "You've been flinging your DNA and fingerprints all over the place; and its likely some of mine is as well, so we have to deal with this. The first and most important rule is I am in charge and you do as I say without question, okay?"
Catherine shivers with excitement, her nails digging into her palms as she leans forwards, eyes wide and feverish. "Yes Sir!" she agrees. "I'll lick all the blood up myself if that's what you want!" she declares. "Or we could just burn the whole place to the ground and roast marshmallows!" she adds, flashing a predatory grin, her eyes wide with devotion.
I nod, pleased she has come to the right conclusion without any prompting. "Yes, we burn it to the ground and get the fuck out of here!" I say, wasting no time getting to my feet and going back into the storefront, returning seconds later with an armful of bottles of motor oil that I dump at her feet. "Get to work spreading this everywhere; make sure Gary is nice and wet," I instruct her, promptly leaving her to it as I go spray bottles of motor oil all over the shelves, cashiers terminal and shop floor.
She lets out a squeal of delight and starts grabbing the bottles, pouring oil everywhere as she practically dances about the place, painting artistic swirls over Gary's body as she hums a cheerful tune to herself. "Oooohh Gary! You're going to make the prettiest bonfire this town has ever seen!" She says with a giggle, splashing extra oil onto him for good measure, before tossing the empty bottle aside and wandering out into the store to join me. "Hey Doc? Can I light the fire? Pleeeaaassseee?'" she pleads, her eyes shining with manic glee as she bounces excitedly on the spot, a lighter in hand.
I snort. "A lighter's not going to burn hot enough; motor oil needs considerably more heat to ignite," I explain, heading out the side door as I turn around and face it, the door hanging open. "Observe," I say, raising my arm as a gout of flame shoots out of my hand and through the doorway as the gas station bursts into flames with a whoosh! that quickly spreads throughout the building. I nudge my head towards the black van nearby. "Come on, let's get out of here! The fire's sending up a signal for miles and the cops and fire brigade will be here in minutes!"
Her jaw drops as she gasps in surprise at the flames leaping from my gauntlet, igniting the furious inferno; her eyes reflecting the flames like twin hell-fires. She lets out a moan, clutching her chest as if her heart might explode. "Holy shit! You can shoot fire?!"
She scrambles after me like an excited puppy as I turn and head for the van, climbing in behind the driver's seat as I remove my mask and start the engine.
She practically dives into the passenger seat "Doc! Are you a wizard? or a demon of some sort?!" she asks with excitement, eyes shining with awe.
"Sssshh! Quiet!" I sush her as the van accelerates before levelling off as I make a beeline away from the fire. "There's nothing magical about it," I say with a smirk. "Just good old fashioned improvised tech. My mechanic Charlie is the brains behind the brawn, this is his work. He helped me put our whole operation together; he's a god damn genius! The Alfred to my Batman as it were," I explain. "What's your name anyway?" I ask as the thought occurs to me.
Catherine presses both hands over her mouth to stifle her squeals, nodding so hard her ponytails bounce. She dramatically flings her arms out as she announces "It's Catherine! With a C and a whole lotta crazy!" she giggles. "Is Charlie also a fire breathing vigilante? No? Damn!" she pouts for a moment before perking up again, kicking her legs excitedly. "So waffles? Pretty please with arson on top?"
I go to tell her to shut up, but change my mind, waffles might not be a bad idea after all. I can explain everything to her while we eat. "Okay fine, we'll get the bloody waffles!" I say in surrender. "It'll give me the opportunity to go over everything with you. I just hope they have a table that's secluded so we can talk privately. I have no problems answering questions and explaining things to you, but I hate repeating myself, so don't make me!" I say. "First lesson, expect the unexpected. Tonight is a perfect example of that. No matter how much planning you do something can and will go wrong, so your plan must be flexible to adjust to any unforeseen circumstances. In relation to that using fire to cleanse a scene is a last resort. Why? It's a fucking beacon for the cops and fire brigade. If we hadn't needed to burn the place down Gary's corpse would've laid there for another seven hours before anyone realised something was wrong. Now we've reduced that time to a few minutes. Note how I'm not making a scene and speeding? Never panic when leaving. Always be cool, calm and collected like any innocent person would and make a direct exit as fast as you can without drawing attention to yourself," I say as we pull into the waffle place and I quickly change into civilian clothing. "Understand?"
Catherine presses both hands over her mouth, nodding vigorously. She takes a deep exaggerated breath and smooths her fishnets. "I sure do Doc!" she replies, batting her eyelashes.
I nod and lead the way into the store. "What kind of name is Catherine anyway?" I ask, finding us a booth in the corner of the store. "You don't seem like a Catherine for such a weirdo, no offence!"
She slides into the booth with a dramatic sigh. "Ugh! Tell me about it! It's so vanilla, but everyone calls me Cat, which is a lot less lame," she says, then grins. "Hey Doc! Do I get to pick my murder nickname? What about Bloodspite or Stabby McStabface?" she asks. Seeing my raised eyebrow she changes the subject "....Or we could just order everything on the menu and drown our existential crises in whipped cream!" She wiggles her eyebrows and flags down the waitress with a wild wave.
I sigh and shake my head. "Please try to tone down the energy when we're out in public. It doesn't help the whole incognito thing when you're shouting and waving your arms about like a maniac, creating a scene."
Cat freezes mid arm wave, her grin faltering before she slowly lowers her hands, like a kid caught drawing on the walls. "Aaawww, but Doc!" she whines, pouting as she kicks her legs under the table.
We order our waffles and the waitress saunters off with a fake smile.
She soon returns and Cat licks her lips and stares at the waffles ravenously as the waitress puts the plate in front of her and leaves. "Right, eat your waffles and listen good, because as I said I hate repeating myself and if you turn out to be problematic I'll gut you like a fish and dump your body somewhere no one will ever find it. You won't go down as one of my victims, just another girl who vanished under mysterious circumstances. I'm giving you the opportunity to work with me and learn, don't make me regret it!" I say, my eyes burning into hers.
Cat shoves half a waffle into her mouth, syrup running down her chin and her cheeks bulging as she chews, her gaze locked onto mine as she listens. She swallows audibly, then wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. "Mmmmmkay...so hypothetically...." she begins as she commences rambling about what I could potentially do with her corpse. "You could have me stuffed like a taxidermy animal!" she gushes with a wild grin. "I'd be your spookiest decor!"
"There would be no glory in your death," I say with a frown. "Do you want to be part of this or not?" I don't give her a chance to respond. "I and I alone select our targets. Only those who've caused great injustice or killed innocent people make the list. We take the code seriously. Witnesses like yourself don't count, they have to be active participants in some way. You mentioned Father O'Malley before, he was just half of it. The Archbishop Peter Pell ensured he got away with it for years by moving him around to different diocese. He made the list. I just haven't had the opportunity to deal with him yet, hence why you're here. Some targets I need help with that Charlie can't provide; understand?"
She gives a solemn nod, suddenly serious. "Understood. No glory, no petty kills, just justice!" she says drawing the edge of her switchblade through a syrup soaked pancake. "But Doc, if I do this right.....if I earn it," her grin returns, sharp as the blade in her hand, "Can I watch you carve up the archbishop? Pretty please?"
"If you want to celebrate your kills, fine. I won't deny you your fun, just don't expect me to. Regardless I won't be taking you on missions with me yet, you have a lot of training to complete first. Until then you'll be helping with surveillance operations, some infiltration and intelligence gathering," I inform her. "No questions, if I say abort its for a reason. I've been forced to a few times. It means living to fight another day, even if the target escapes. If they escape it's serious, it means it'll be more difficult to get them next time and they can go on to hurt more innocent people because you couldn't do the job," I say, serious. "You remember the supposed incident at tech billionaire Chad Christensen's penthouse?"
Cat's eyes widen at the mention of Christensen, as she leans over the table, giddy with excitement. "No fucking way!" she says with a feral grin. "That was you? The mysterious gas leak was bullshit, I knew it! It explains why they never released that CTV footage!" she says practically vibrating, "Oooh! Doc you gotta tell me! Did he beg? Did he cry? Or was he one of those boring guys who just whimpered and pissed himself?" she asks breathlessly, hanging on my every word.
I grumble at the memory and snicker. "Didn't get the fucking chance. I had him back to me, a few meters away when some gorilla of a bodyguard appeared out of nowhere and hurled me across the room. I dealt with him and managed to leave him drowning in a pool of his own blood, but Christensen escaped, fleeing like a little bitch. The next minute cop cars come screaming from everywhere, surrounding the building and a SWAT team is deployed. I could've gone after him, sure. Would I have got him? I have no doubt, but I wouldn't have made it out alive. I got shot twice during a run in with the SWAT when I was making my escape as it was." I finish the story, letting the point sink in.
Cat's pupils dilate as she leans across the table again, syrup stained fingers twitching with excitement. "Two bullets and you still ghosted a SWAT team?" Her tongue darts out to lick a stray bit of syrup off her chin. She suddenly slams her hands down on the table, rattling it. "Oh! Oh! What if next time we dress as EMTs and fake his overdose? I've totally got a nurse cosplay!" she says with an unhinged grin.
I can't help but smile at her enthusiasm. "All in good time. Until then we've got a lot of work to do. If you're serious about becoming my apprentice show up at this address at 12pm tomorrow and your training will begin," I say scribbling down an address on a piece of paper. "It's a house in the suburbs, not aligned with us, but be there at 12pm sharp. I'll drive by, if you're not there I don't stop and forget all about you," I explain.
Cat snatches the piece of paper and presses it to her chest with a shiver of delight. "Oooohh! A secret rendezvous!" she purrs, tucking it into her fishnets with exaggerated care. "Don't worry Doc, I'll be early. Maybe even bring snacks! Or knives! or..." she cuts herself off with a giggle. "This is going to be so much fun!"