Queen of Wands-eARC by John Ringo Page B

been treating Janea. Now that Barb knew he was associated with this mental facility, she intended to get him unassociated as fast as possible.
    The patient was restrained. Tightly. Barb was familiar with restraints, having spent some time under them herself after her first encounter with a demon and before Augustus pulled some strings to get her out of psychiatric care. But the ones they’d used on her were light compared to what they had on the young man in the bed.
    “How idiosyncratic?” Barb asked, disturbed by the sight of the otherwise healthy young man’s condition.
    “Most patients in this type of condition tend to bite,” Dr. Downing said, pulling out a probe. “Most of those, however, do not tend to swallow whatever they bite off. These patients do. And, observe,” he continued, pressing the probe into the base of Darren’s foot.
    “I didn’t see anything,” Kurt said. “Except him continuing to…”
    “Writhe,” Barb finished.
    “You should have,” the psychiatrist said. “That should have elicited a pain response, even in a patient suffering from psychosis. A yell, a howl, some type of response. And,” he continued, pulling out a small rubber mallet. “Observe.”
    He tapped the subject just below his knee and raised an eyebrow.
    “I’m pretty sure his leg didn’t twitch,” Barb said, frowning. “He should have had an involuntary movement, a reflex response. Right?”
    “Correct,” the doctor said, smiling as if at a marginally bright student. “No reflex responses, no pain responses, but their autonomic nervous systems continue to function, they breathe, their hearts beat and they have control over their voluntary muscles. But, if I were to remove the restraints and let him walk, you would observe that his motions are powerful but uncoordinated in the extreme.”
    “I…need to check something,” Barb said, then frowned. “I take it that anything that goes on in here is confidential?”
    “Yes,” Dr. Downing said, frowning in turn. “What sort of examination?”
    “One that’s going to make you shake your head and wonder if the Bureau is going nuts,” Kurt said. “And one that you’re not going to comment on under any circumstances. Under the Uniform Federal Code Section Eighteen. In a real and legally binding sense.”
    “Oh,” Dr. Downing said. “O…kay?”
    “It won’t take a moment,” Barb said. She hated to Open in this place, but it was going to be necessary. Because there was something screaming at her about the patient. He looked healthy enough at first glance, but something was…screaming.
    She laid her hand on his brow, careful to avoid the gnashing teeth, then Opened up her Sight.
    The first thing she noticed was, in fact, the neurologist. His aura was as black as the ace of spades. She saw him tense and looked over with a thin, fierce grin.
    “Okay, I suppose this isn’t quite as unusual as I’d have thought for you,” Barb said.
    “What…are you?” Downing asked, carefully.
    “As it turns out, your worst nightmare,” Barb replied. She reached for the soul of the afflicted and paused. “Jesus Christ,” she said, softly.
    “I wouldn’t have expected you to curse,” Kurt said.
    “That wasn’t a curse, Special Agent,” Barb said. “That was a prayer. This person is dead.”
    “Dead?” Dr. Downing said, snorting. “I can assure you, as a physician—”
    “With what’s riding you, there’s no way that you heal,” Barb said. “So calling yourself a physician, Doctor, is a stretch. Research. Poke. Prod. Possibly advance science. But that…thing in you isn’t going to allow you to ever heal. And when I said this person was dead, I was very specific. This…thing has no soul. None. No ka . No ba . It is a walking dead thing.”
    “Zombie?” Kurt said. “Please, not zombies.”
    “Not the movie zombie,” Barb said. “I’m not sure what it is or how it was created. But this person has no more soul than a rock. How it’s