"You've got it doc!" Freddy will spend another two points.
Plus another 4 Udko can assist.
"Freddy, stay on the far left side through this curve coming up, I remember seeing a humongous stretch of mud on the other side when we came through here and then remember there's a intersection coming up after the curve, if they spin out in the mud maybe you could lose them by turning off the main road."
Keeper screen:
Freddy hits the gas, sending mud spraying in the group's wake. From the passenger seat of the other car, a brawny man points a revolver at your rear tire! You hear the report, and the sound of a bullet ricocheting off the bumper. Before the thug can get another shot off, Freddy swerves onto another road. Your car lists with the sudden turn, knocking you all around- but the vehicle stays on the road. From the rear window, Amadeus and Dr. Udko see your pursuers take the turn far too hard. Their car goes sliding off the road, the engine smoking. Four men climb out of the car while the driver tries to get the engine going, but by that time you're too far for them to catch up.
"Great driving Freddy, we'll done! Any idea of who those guys are? I don't think I have any enemies in Savannah. We didn't tell anyone else when we were going to the estate so did someone there tip them off? Could it be part of this cult madness? Maybe we need to have a more forceful discussion with the odd caretaker," the words pour in a torrent from Udko as he is still feeling the adrenalin high of the chase.
"I didn't recognize any of them, but you're right, only Currothers and Henslowe himself knew that we were here."
Freddy pulls the safe deposit key from his breast pocket. "Chances are, they don't know about this though, so we've got a leg up on them. Let's get back to town and make arrangements to fly out to California as soon as possible."
Udko defers to the expert judgement of the PI and is happy enough pushing on to California (especially since he's not paying for it).
California for me!
Let's go see what's in this deposit box!
"Wait! We don't even know who that is. I for one would like to go back and teach them that we're not to be trifled with. If we don't make a statement now, and figure out who we're up against they have the advantage.
"Anatoly, they're armed. We, or at least I, am not. This seems like a bad time to make a stand."
"I'm sorry, dear Anatoly, but I left my tommy gun in my other turban... I'm not attacking those who willfully tried to run us off the street! Are you daft?" Amadeus looks baffled by the archaeologist's sudden desire to be killed by thugs in the night.
Anatoly throws up his hands in exhaspiration. "Fine then. When you get your throat slashed by someone you don't know, and have no idea is coming in the middle of the night, your last thoughts should be... I shoulda listened to Anatoly".
"I for one would like to go home for a couple of days before heading right to California. This trip shook me up more than I thought it would, and I'd like a day or two to recover. If necessary I'll fly out and meet you guys there in a few days".
Anatoly throws up his hands in exhaspiration. "Fine then. When you get your throat slashed by someone you don't know, and have no idea is coming in the middle of the night, your last thoughts should be... I shoulda listened to Anatoly".
"I for one would like to go home for a couple of days before heading right to California. This trip shook me up more than I thought it would, and I'd like a day or two to recover. If necessary I'll fly out and meet you guys there in a few days".
"We could take the plane and head west while you take the train back home then we could send the plane to pick you up in a couple of days, or whenever you're ready." Now that a destination is selected Udko wants to move as quickly as possible to find out the truth of what happened to his old patient. The need to know is like an itch in his brain that he's unable to scratch.
You drive back into Savannah as the summer rain pours down into the hot, sticky night. Long shadows flicker out from the sputtering gas lamps, cutting across the warm yellow glow from spilling out of the homes you pass on your way back to the boarding house and the hotel. The city is divided into slices of light and bands of darkness, of wrought-iron bars and illuminated glass.
Safe in your respective rooms and home, you get in touch with Janet Winston-Rogers and Frank Kearns to keep them apprised of your next planned move- out to Los Angeles, where this whole mess started.
You feel like the life has just drained out of you from the humidity, the stuffy hospital and dilapidated swampy house, digging in the dark. But it's difficult to get some rest with the constant humidity- and all this talk of headless monsters with mouths in their hands, gunfire and bloodshed. Certainly the confrontation happened, but there can't... really be a monster out there somewhere, can there? Your mind and tired muscles finally seem to reach an agreement to sleep and you gratefully drift off at last.
Dr. Udko dreams:
Freddy dreams:
Udko is absolutely enthralled by the journal, so much so that he will not be parted from it without force. Back in his room, he reads and rereads the pages, every time seeing something new, something that is trying to let him see the world in a new way, a frightening but wonderful way.
The next morning upon awakening he writes everything down that he could remember from his dream and sketches the eyeless faces into a journal he begins keeping of his experiences so far.
Over breakfast he shares the details of his dream with the others and asks them if they've dreamed about eyeless faces with too many mouths.
Anatoly stays quiet throughout breakfast, but pulls Dr Udko aside for a moment when he gets the chance.
"So doc. I didn't have a dream so much as... well I saw something in the asylum. I know it can't be real... but it was so... well I can't get it off my mind. While we were in the room talking to that guy I saw this face come out of the ceiling. I know I must have been imagining it, but still it really... well shook me up kinda. What do you think? Am I going crazy"?
Since he couldn't sleep with his mind racing the way it was, Anatoly spent time writing a letter to Dr. Chung about what he was experiencing, leaving out none of the details. Best not to burden his uncle with this yet. Maybe Chung could give him some insight.
"... well I can't get it off my mind. While we were in the room talking to that guy I saw this face come out of the ceiling... i
Anatoly stays quiet throughout breakfast, but pulls Dr Udko aside for a moment when he gets the chance.
"So doc. I didn't have a dream so much as... well I saw something in the asylum. I know it can't be real... but it was so... well I can't get it off my mind. While we were in the room talking to that guy I saw this face come out of the ceiling. I know I must have been imagining it, but still it really... well shook me up kinda. What do you think? Am I going crazy"?
Since he couldn't sleep with his mind racing the way it was, Anatoly spent time writing a letter to Dr. Chung about what he was experiencing, leaving out none of the details. Best not to burden his uncle with this yet. Maybe Chung could give him some insight.
"Yes, well we are in a stressful situation and that can cause the mind to play tricks. I'm not sure but there are obviously strange things going on so who knows what you saw that your mind interpreted as faces...eh no matter, the main thing is that you're not crazy. If you see one of these faces again though do say something"
Freddy arrives at breakfast the next morning pale with dark bags under his eyes. Quieter than usual, he perks up when Dr Udko starts talking about his dream.
"Not.. not quite the same, but I did have a terrible dream last night. A mouth opened up on my stomach. It spoke in a language that I couldn't understand." Freddy pushes his full plate away, having lost his appetite.
Freddy arrives at breakfast the next morning pale with dark bags under his eyes. Quieter than usual, he perks up when Dr Udko starts talking about his dream.
"Not.. not quite the same, but I did have a terrible dream last night. A mouth opened up on my stomach. It spoke in a language that I couldn't understand." Freddy pushes his full plate away, having lost his appetite.
"Freud would postulate a deficiency in breastfeeding as a child but given that three of us have seen or dreamed about these mouths I doubt it is a manifestation of some psychological deficiency. There is definitely something odd happening. I find myself most anxious to find the contents of the safe deposit box."
Anatoly stays quiet throughout breakfast, but pulls Dr Udko aside for a moment when he gets the chance.
"So doc. I didn't have a dream so much as... well I saw something in the asylum. I know it can't be real... but it was so... well I can't get it off my mind. While we were in the room talking to that guy I saw this face come out of the ceiling. I know I must have been imagining it, but still it really... well shook me up kinda. What do you think? Am I going crazy"?
Since he couldn't sleep with his mind racing the way it was, Anatoly spent time writing a letter to Dr. Chung about what he was experiencing, leaving out none of the details. Best not to burden his uncle with this yet. Maybe Chung could give him some insight.
"Yes, well we are in a stressful situation and that can cause the mind to play tricks. I'm not sure but there are obviously strange things going on so who knows what you saw that your mind interpreted as faces...eh no matter, the main thing is that you're not crazy. If you see one of these faces again though do say something"
[dice=Psychoanalysis Test]1d6+2
The calm rationalizations that Dr. Udko presents to Anatoly are quite reassuring. Yes, it must have been the heat and the long trip playing tricks on his eyes at Joy Grove.
After breakfast, you all gather your personal effects and pile into the rented car. The humidity is already creeping into the city as you take one last look at Savannah before you depart for Los Angeles. You post letters home as needed, keeping your friends and employers back home apprised of your new destination.
At Hunter Field, you drop off the rental car and start walking to the hangar Frank Kearns has rented for the plane. It's when you're passing between some tightly placed aluminum sheds that you get the sense of being watched. From the narrow alleys between the buildings emerge five men of white and asian ancestry. They wear cheap off-the-rack suits, with ties and hats and carry knives, pipes and brass knuckles. A gleam of violence is in their eyes as they advance toward you, occasionally spitting into the grass. The largest among them rotates his arm like a pitcher preparing to take the mound.
It seems the men from yesterday had an idea of where you would be.
"Oououaghh unhauh guh.", the largest says, the words (?) almost dripping from his mouth in a mass of vowels.
"Oououaghh?" Udko says as he backs away from the men and then spotting a lead pipe leaning against the shed, reaches down and grabs it, holding it like a baseball bat.
"B$+!&~~s." Amadeus turns and runs!
Anatoly tired of being pursued by these thugs, grabs up a small piece of chain, and wraps it around his fist and knuckles.
Freddy draws his .45 from his concealed holster and fires a single round into the air.
Here's hoping they aren't willing to die for this key. Freddy thinks to himself.
Freddy pulls out his piece and fires a warning shot- and it seems to be enough of a message to the thugs. The biggest one quickly pulls his own pistol, while the rest of the brutes start backing off. There's a standoff- very slowly the boss flicks open a typewritten piece of paper.
DROP THIS CASE. GO HOME.
He drops the paper to the ground while the rest start backing away into the alleys between supply sheds. You can hear whistles, likely from the airfield's watchmen.
Udko watches Amadeus flee at the first sign of trouble...I should have thought of that
Only holding a small piece of wood, Udko feels no desire to chase the bad guys but will wait to see what Freddy and Anatoly decide to do...
Anatoly shakes his fist at the departing thugs. "You better run you louts"!
Freddy wordlessly holsters his gun and steps forward to take the note off of the asphalt.
He's sure to keep his eye on the five men the entire time.
The lead brute darts around a corner, out of your line of sight. You hear their shoes pounding the asphalt as watchmen come running from the opposite direction, Amadeus pointing them along from the rear. After explaining the situation and filing a report with the police, you're allowed on your way. You aren't exactly confident that these thugs will be caught, however.
The Winston aircraft and Kearns are awaiting you after the ordeal, the silver plane gleaming in the sun. You pack your things into the cargo hatch on the side and board the plane, on course to Los Angeles and hopefully the truth.
Whatever it may cost.
"You lot decided to stay and fight the armed men?!? What in the name of Moses are you on? Don't you understand they're nuts and want you dead? I can't believe it! A group where I'm the sanest one!" Amadeus shakes his head and lugs his shoulder bag onboard, feeling for all the world like he's fallen into something very very odd indeed.
Chapter Two: Los Angeles, California- August 9th, 1937
You've been on long trips before, but most of them were on trains or ships. After a few hours in the air, the constant noise of the engines becomes grating- but at least the seats are comfortable. Only the finest for the Winstons and while you're traveling on Janet's dime, you get to benefit. It's about four hours in that Kearns passes back a thermos of cooling coffee and some sandwiches he grabbed at a delicatessen on the way out of Savannah.
Amadeus and Dr. Udko at least have something to occupy themselves, passing Henslowe's journal back and forth while they each pore over it in great detail, seeking to glean whatever nuggets of obscure Truth might be entombed within its pages. While the thing seems absurd on its face... something resonates with you on a deeper level, outside of higher reason or what you know to be reason. This is not mere superstition or the ravings of a damaged man; it is true. And it's out there along with who knows what else.
A pity that's hardly a comforting thought as you drink your cold black coffee.
You touch down at Burbank airport in the early evening, though it's past 8 on your east coast watches. Frank gets the plane ready and writes down the hotel he's staying in, should you need him.
The evening is growing cool and it's nice and dry. Green hills encircle the airfield and you can see the distant lights of Hollywood, San Pedro, Eagle Rock and the other smaller cities that make up Los Angeles just flickering on.
"Gentlemen, after the reception we received in Savannah, I propose we stay together this time and purchase items to help protect us. I for one, would like to find a pawn shop before we go to a hotel and purchase some sort of firearm. I care not what motel we find, mayhaps we should push on towards Long Beach tonight and procure lodging close to the bank?"
Consulting a map, you realize that Long Beach is at the very southern end of Los Angeles county- it's going to take the better part of the day to get there and odds are good the bank is closing as you arrive. Likely a better errand for tomorrow.
Pawn shops are very easy to come by. The Depression has sent a lot of former family heirlooms, fine cutlery and even unneeded firearms onto the sale block. You make a few stops after consulting the phone booth, eventually finding a good selection of pistols at an anonymous shop in a strip mall.
You find an affordable motel in Glendale, north of the city and close to the highway. Given the massive influx of people to LA in the last few years and the city's push toward tourism, lodgings are quite easy to obtain... though not exactly plush by anyone's standards.
You hit up a number of pawn shops, finding a variety of antique firearms like derringers dating bake to 1866 and other show pieces. In East LA, a shadier pawn shop has a number of fairly more recent pistols available "in the back".
You hit up a number of pawn shops, finding a variety of antique firearms like derringers dating bake to 1866 and other show pieces. In East LA, a shadier pawn shop has a number of fairly more recent pistols available "in the back".
Anatoly spends much of the long plane ride sleeping, and composing some of his thoughts into a diary he's began to keep.
Udko will practice loading and unloading his new 45 during the car ride to the bank, however he will not attempt to carry a pistol into the bank, leaving it locked in the car, hidden in either the glove compartment or under a seat.
After an evening of acquiring certain life-preserving gear you all retire to your rooms at the motor lodge. After breakfast you drive south toward Long Beach, which is a good distance from Los Angeles proper. There isn't a cloud in the sky on your drive, the palm trees and green hills encircling the city making the area's appeal quite plain to all of you.
Around noon, you reach the city of Long Beach and manage to find the First Bank of Long Beach... or what's left of it. The building itself is a damaged brick edifice, the name "The First Bank of Long Beach" still inscribed in granite above the boarded-up front doors. Given how badly cracked the stone steps in front are and how many foul-smelling vagrants, drunks and squatters are hanging about, it doesn't seem like any banking is being done here lately.