The Green Beast Walked
1
Quin Morgan stared at his hand, frowning at it as if it was something strange.
It was green, like grass, or a leprechaun's coat. That was something he wasn't used to. It was hairier than he remembered also. The claw at the end of each finger bothered him a little more than the extreme hair and green skin. They were bony daggers popping out of his finger tips whenever he flexed his hand.
Quin decided that he should really look into a mirror and see what his face looked like. He had a feeling it was green, had fangs, and was basically a mix of bear and mountain lion. He didn't know why he thought that, but it seemed familiar enough that he expected that description.
Quin was not disappointed by what he saw in the mirror. He did have the face of a bear-lion. Short ears swivelled at the sides of his large head.
At least he didn't have a mane to go with the rest of his new look.
The major problem from his point of view was he had no idea what had happened to him. Any explanation would be nice. You just didn't turn in a monster after falling asleep in a dingy hotel while you were on the road.
Quin tried to think what he had done before checking in and sacking out. Things were a little fuzzier than he preferred. He definitely didn't recall any time where he had agreed to be a green lion-bear. That was something he would remember no matter how drunk he was.
He sat down on the bed, long tail curling around him as the mattress bent in a U. He had pulled off the road a few miles north of Old Troy. All of his supplies had been sold away, and he wanted to celebrate before heading south to home. He remembered filling out his invoices and bringing his log book up to snuff.
Then he had walked over to the saloon he had seen when he had pulled into the hotel. He had drunk a few shots. It was nothing much as far as he could remember. Everything else was blank.
Something must have happened in that saloon. That was the only explanation of where, but not why, or how. He needed to talk to the barkeep and ask if he knew anything.
He probably should put on clothes for that. He doubted anyone wanted to see his naked butt wandering loose. His face was bad enough.
The first problem he faced was checking out, and getting out of there before he ran up too much of a tab. His office wouldn't understand why he hadn't returned and picked up more supplies to sell. He definitely couldn't live off his expense account. That would cause too many problems down the road.
Quin called the desk and asked for a bill. He explained that he was feeling a little down and the bellhop should just leave it for him to sign. The salesman was definitely going to be checking out and hitting the road again. The bill would be signed and returned before he left for good.
Quin packed his bags, realizing he was too tall, and too wide to wear anything he owned. He would have to look into getting a new wardrobe.
He couldn't run around naked without expecting some trouble. It wasn't easy being a monster.
Quin used the window to pack his car. His new form did give him an advantage in climbing and jumping. He felt strong as an ox too. Maybe things weren't all that bad.
They weren't all that good either.
Quin left the signed bill before loading into his car. It sank under his weight as he slid the seat all the way back. He drove away, glad that it was night. That would keep people from seeing him as he roamed around town looking for something to wear.
Whether he liked it or not, Quin knew that he was going to have to break into a clothing store and find something less revealing than the nothing he now wore. He could see trying to explain why he had a listing for a new wardrobe on his expense account.
It's like this, Marv. I had to spend this money to replace my suits because I became a green bear-lion. Here are the receipts for it. Yes, it's work related. I can't sell anything naked, now can I?
That wouldn't fly far at all.
So the first thing was to locate a clothing store for big and tall guys so he could get something off the rack. He had slept through most of the day so waiting until such a place closed wouldn't be a strain. Getting in might be a problem, but he would deal with that when he had to do so.
Quin liked having a semblance of a plan even though just getting clothes wouldn't be the end of it. The next thing he would have to do was retrace his steps. He couldn't expect a cooperative witness to help him then.
His personal appearance would create a certain amount of fear even if Quin didn't feel like hurting someone to get a few answers. He would have to work on his scarey look thing so he could impress the people he planned to talk to later that evening.
Quin smiled when he saw a clothing store. One thing at a time he told himself. He pulled into a parking space away from the store, and its neighbors. He looked around, glad that people were off the street. The green beast man ran for the side of the clothing store and hunkered down behind a dumpster shared by the five places he had counted.
2
Quin waited for the darkness of night before he made his move. Hopefully he could find something in bear-lion size on the rack. He didn't want to think how to explain himself to a tailor.
That would be almost as bad as trying to explain his spending on his expense account.
Quin waited for the shopkeeper to leave, locking the door behind him. He watched the man walk away before he rushed to the side of the building. He had read Doc Savage as a boy, and he had always wondered if one of those tricks of his would work in the real world. He grabbed the bricks with his strong fingers and pulled himself up the wall as fast as he could.
Quin smiled when he pulled himself on the roof. His new body was heavier than he had realized, but he was also stronger than he had ever been. He must be as strong as ten men, as a bear.
Of course that was to be expected when you were a big green bear-lion.
Quin went to the skylight in the center of the roof. He couldn't guess why the owner had put this in. He pulled on the handle until it came off in his hand. He should have expected that too.
Quin turned to the door, hoping there wasn't an alarm. If he could pull a metal handle off, there was no telling what he could do to a door knob. On the other hand, he wasn't going to hang around if there was an alarm. There was no way he was getting involved with the police at this early stage.
He definitely wasn't going to be a rug on someone's floor.
Quin worked the knob, relieved that it came apart in his hand with a simple pull. He slipped inside the store and started looking around. He really needed a change of clothes. It got old walking around naked.
Quin browsed the place, glad that his altered eyes saw almost as well in the dark as they did in the daytime. He found a couple of shirts and some pants in his size. He hemmed the sleeves and legs with his claws and a cutting board.
Quin checked himself out in a full-size mirror. It was still shorter than he was, but the clothes gave him a semblance of normality.
He just needed to complete his wardrobe.
Quin added a belt, a coat, a scarf, some bandages, sunglasses, large brimmed hat and a bandana to tie his new ears down. He looked at his supplies. He had Jack Griffin's disguise laid out in front of him.
If it worked for the Invisible Man, it should work for him.
Quin took his new supplies and exited the clothing store through the roof door. He climbed down, things tied to his back. He donned the disguise, putting the extra clothing in the back seat of the car.
Now he needed to find out what had happened to him while he was out partying. That meant he needed to backtrack his trail and ask questions until he found someone who could tell him what was going on. He wasn't a detective but that seemed the best thing to do.
A cure would be great. He didn't want to look like the Wolfman's cousin any more than he had to. He refused to consider being stuck as a giant green bear-lion. His job would be the first thing to drop into the toilet. People wouldn't even open the door after one look at his new mug.
Would you like this towel rack for your bathroom?
Monster! Get out of here!
Yeah, he would really make his quota.
Quin drove to the last place he remembered being in before waking up at his hotel room. That must have been where he had been changed. Otherwise he was out of options before he got started.
The Bell Bar and Grill stood on the outskirts of town, surrounded by a parking lot and some shrubs. Cars lined up in front of the place, reinforcing the vague memory of a crowd while he had been drinking.
It was too crowded for him to bust in and start asking questions. He would have a riot on his hands, followed by a lot of trouble. Better to wait until he could get somebody alone. His new face should get some of his questions answered.
Before this, if a bear-lion grabbed him and said "Remember me?," he would have gone in his pants.
Quin waited until the place closed. He knew that the bar would have to be cleaned after the patrons left. So he gave himself ten more minutes to watch the cars pull out of the lot. Then he dumped his disguise.
He wanted to be remembered as a green fury, not a patient escaped from a loony bin. Once his disguise got out, he would be running from everyone who wanted a rug for the living room.
Quin slunk from his car and jogged to the side of the building. He grabbed hold of the wooden exterior and pulled himself to the flat roof. Now all he had to do was wait for the man with whom he wanted to talk to come out of the place.
3
Quin waited patiently, tail flipping back and forth. It felt good to have pants again. He didn't like running around naked, even with his hairy condition. He hoped the bartender didn't live on the grounds.
That would be the second place he broke into that night.
Nothing was going to stop his search.
Quin was cheered by the bartender being the last one to leave. He waited for the man to lock the door and start for his car before he jumped downed from the roof of the building. He crunched on the gravel lot hard enough to make the man look at him, and then start running.
Quin bore down on the bartender, running on all fours. He hooked a thick fingered hand around the man's ankle, and flung him to the ground. His animal face stopped inches short of the scared drink pourer's own.
"Down, Spot," the bartender said. "Bad kitty."
"I would suggest you say something else if you want to live," Quin said, trying to be threatening.
"You can talk?," said the bartender. The look on his face betrayed his indecision. He didn't know if he should be more afraid that a wild animal had grabbed him, or that the animal had decided to talk to him.
"Focus," said Quin. "We're beyond that now. I want to know if you're going to answer my questions without having to bite your arm off."
"Anything," said the bartender, trying to hold up his hands. "I'll answer anything."
"I want to know about a traveling salesman that came in to get a drink," said Quin. "He was a really happy fellow, really sociable. Went into your place in the last few days."
"That could be anybody," said the bartender. "I don't exactly keep tabs."
Quin grimaced, realizing that his identification had been taken along with his clothes. He looked at his former hotel, thinking about what he should do. He certainly couldn't drag the bartender along on his search.
"Let's try again," said Quin, grinning slightly. "I'm looking for a guy about your shape, maybe a little bit taller, with a small scar on the back of his hand. He was wearing a suit with a paper flower in his lapel, carrying a case, and a coat. Do you know whom I'm talking about now?"
"I remember a paper flower guy," said the bartender. "He tried to sell me some decorations on the side for the bar."
"That's the guy," said Quin, trying to hide his excitement. This could be what he was looking for. "What happened to him?"
"He picked up some woman, if you know what I mean," said the bartender. "She was a looker. I would have gone with her if I hadn't been serving drinks."
"What did this looker look like?," asked Quin, excitement turning his voice into a growling thing.
"I don't know," said the bartender. "She was red haired, hourglass figure, wearing a red dress and jacket."
"Does this looker have a name?," Quin asked.
"I don't know," said the bartender, fear making him think hard. "I don't know."
"Off comes the arm," said Quin, putting on the best cannibal face he owned as he showed the man his now enormous fangs. "I wish I had some ketchup with it."
"I really don't know!," shouted the bartender. "Never saw her before. I thought someone said she looked different, said that she usually had on a lab coat. I don't anything else."
"You thought you heard this?," said Quin, putting the arm in his mouth with some small pressure. It was just enough to be felt and not break the skin.
"One of my regulars works in the chemical lab down the road, comes in like clockwork," said the bartender, staring in horror at where his arm might be separated from his body if he didn't talk fast enough. "He knew her."
Quin let go of the arm, smiling as well as he could with his bear lion face.
"I knew you would remember something useful eventually," he said. "Which lab?"
"Crockett Chemicals," he said. "You can't miss it."
"I know I won't because you are going to take me there," said Quin. "And if you have any bright ideas about raising a ruckus, these babies will chew you up before you get word one out. Got me?"
Glimmering daggers hung over the man's face. They were attached to a furry hand easily capable of circling his head. He nodded, tears in his eyes.
"Good," said Quin, lifting his stool pigeon up with one hand. "Which one is your car? You're driving."
The frightened drink pourer led the way to a car that had seen its best days before the end of the War. Quin pushed the man into the car, before grabbing hold of the roof and vaulting to the other side. He pulled open the passenger door while the bartender was still trying to get his keys out.
"You're doing fine," said Quin. "Keep cooperating and you'll get out of this with something to tell your kids. What's your name?"
"Mark Barnes," said the bartender, shaky hand holding his keys.
"Let's go," said Quin.
4
Quin examined the building in front of him with his altered eyes. His ears twitched as he split part of his attention on his captive, sitting with his hands on the wheel of the jalopy they had rode in to get to the Crockett laboratory, and the building itself.
"Are you sure this woman works here?," Quin asked.
"Absolutely positive," said Barnes.
"You know what I'll do to you if you're lying," Quin said. That was a statement of intent that didn't need the nod that he got. "Be here when I get back."
Quin climbed out of the car, and walked toward the fence around the chemical laboratory. He looked around, then jumped over the fence like a cat. He faded into the darkness like the predators he resembled.
The Green Beast wandered around the facility, looking for an open door, or window. He didn't want to break anything if he could just pull it out of the way. He saw a guard walking around inside the building, and avoided the flashlight playing along the windows and doors where he could.
He wasn't interested in being discovered before he had a chance to look around the lab's files.
The Green Beast waited for the guard to make it to the front door. He couldn't decide if he should take the man down, or let him pass and break the door down. He finally decided that he should fade away from the door, let the man pass, and then break the door down with a punch from his new massive hand.
His plan didn't go like that because the guard saw a glint of green out of the corner of his eye, and turned the flashlight on the looming Quin. He opened his mouth to scream, reached for a gun hanging from his belt, dropped his light to the concrete sidewalk. Quin reacted faster and grabbed the guard's hand and face.
"Do you want to live?," Quin asked. "Nod if the answer is yes."
The guard nodded frantically.
"Lose the gun belt," Quin said. "Then we're going to have a nice pleasant conversation."
The belt, with the gun still in its holster, clattered on the sidewalk. The guard had undone the buckle with his free hand.
"I am looking for a woman doctor that works here," said Quin. "She's supposed be good looking with red hair. Do you know her?"
The guard nodded, waving his free hand.
"I'm going to take my hand away," said Quin, releasing the man's face. "Give me what I want without any trouble, and I'll let you go."
"I know whom you're talking about," said the guard. "Dr. Mortis is the only woman chemist here. But she has gone home for the day. All of them have."
"You wouldn't happen to know where that is, would you?," Quin asked.
""Not off hand," said the captive. "You could try the personnel files."
"Lead on," said the Green Beast.
5
Quin Morgan read the file as his driver conveyed him across town. He didn't like the way things looked. This could be potentially bad for any solution to his condition.
"Could you stop growling?," said Mark Barnes. "It's making me nervous."
Quin looked at him, wondering how much of a smile came through his bear-lion face.
"Sorry," he said. "This file says that Mortis couldn't have changed me. She's not qualified enough. That means unless my interview produces a lead, I'm stuck like this."
"What do you mean not qualified?," asked Barnes.
"Her focus is chemistry, her resume says that she just graduated from college," said Quin. "This is her first job. So unless she's a natural genius who's ahead of everyone in the field, she shouldn't know anything about changing people into monsters."
"Maybe she lied on her resume," said Barnes. "That happens."
"She lied to make herself look less qualified than she is?," said Quin. "I've never heard of anything like that."
"I'm not saying that's what happened," said Barnes, not liking the giant teeth being displayed his way. "I'm just saying if she wanted to work in the lab without anyone wondering what she was doing, an assistant could stay on the job and not draw attention if she was doing her job."
"You're suggesting that she set up a camouflage job," said Quin. "Is that possible?"
Barnes gave him a look.
"Point taken," said Quin.
"Anyway, here's your stop," said Barnes, pulling over to the curb. He pointed across the street at Mortis's address from the file.
"You're kidding," said Quin.
The address was an empty lot on the edge of Old Troy. Scrub grass had never seen the touch of human hand. Small houses bracketed the empty space.
"If she lied about where she came from," began Barnes.
"Why not where she lived," finished Quin.
"Is this where you kill me now?," asked Barnes.
"No," said Quin. "Why do you ask?"
"I have to get some sleep," said Barnes. "I still have to work tomorrow."
"I see your point," said Quin. "Take me back to Crockett Chemicals, then you can forget you ever saw me."
"That's the best thing I have heard all night," said Barnes.
The ride back to the chemical company was one of silence and contemplation. Barnes was happy that he wouldn't be a meal for the big green beast at his side, and was pushing the car to get rid of his unwanted guest as fast as possible.
Quin realized that the guard would let everyone know that he had paid a visit and was interested in the redhead. That would let the cat out of the bag.
6
The people passing through the gate at Crockett Chemical were of all shapes and sizes, but the Green Beast was only interested in one in particular. Once he had a talk with her, maybe he wouldn't be so furry.
Quin had been dropped off not far from the fence on the other side of the building. He had been relieved that the guard had not called the police. He didn't know why, but thought it was because of the unusual nature of the person accosting him in the dark.
I'd like to report a green bear-lion for breaking and entering, trespassing and assault.
We'll send some men in white coats to help you out. Don't move from that spot.
Quin had gotten over the fence and climbed the side of the building easily in the dark. As he watched the people parade through the gate in the morning, he realized that he had slept on top of the place just waiting for his chance to talk to his benefactor. It hadn't been much of a sleeping spot, but he was ready and his new eyes were good enough to allow him to see everything going on inside the fence with no problem.
Finally he spotted a woman with red hair walking to the front of the building. She had tried but there was no disguising those good looks. The camouflage just made her seem even more out of place, a rose among sunflowers.
Now all I have to do is wait until night fall, and then follow her home as best that I can. Too bad I'm stuck on this roof for the whole time.
Quin settled down in a shady spot and went over everything he knew so far. It wasn't much, but it passed the time long enough for him to catnap a few hours. He awoke again when he heard the first car leaving. A quick peek told him that Miss Mortis had not been driving that vehicle toward the road.
He waited as the people left one after the other. He knew some would stop at the bar down the road, some would head home, some would drive into Old Troy for some kind of night life. That didn't matter. The person he wanted to talk to the most was apparently staying to work late.
Maybe she was whipping up some more bear-lion stew to use on her next lab rat.
Quin waited until he was sure no one was coming back, before he climbed back down to the ground. He entered the building, glad that the door was still unlocked. He hoped Mortis would come clean with the cure without having to do something harsh.
He didn't need to mess someone up if he could reason with that person.
Quin padded the empty halls, ears laid back, tail twitching. He was used to it moving on its own as he walked. He would miss it when it was gone.
He hoped Dr. Mortis would not be a hard case. He didn't want to get into the advantages and disadvantages of being a tall monster in a world of humans.
That was something he didn't feel like talking about to the woman who might have been responsible for the way he looked in the first place.
Quin came across a lab with a light under the door. It was the first in the building and he felt like Dr. Mortis would have to fly to escape his scrutiny in the afternoon. He wasn't surprised to find that the door was locked when he tried it.
Quin knocked on the door, and then listened as someone came close.
"Who is it?" said a light voice, the sound of songbirds.
"My name is Quin Morgan," said the Green Beast. "You were recommended to me for my condition."
"Go away, please," said the woman. "I have work to do."
Quin pulled one huge fist back. He slammed it forward as hard as he could. He didn't know what to expect, but knew that the results would be out of the ordinary for what his strength used to be. His furry fist punched a hole through the wooden panel much like the blast from a shotgun. One wrench pulled the door off the hinges in two pieces.
"I think you'll see me now, won't you, Doc?" Quin asked, stepping inside the room.
"What did you do to my door, you brute?," asked the doctor.
Quin admitted that it was like seeing two different women superimposed on each other. This stuffy woman with her hair in the bun was the same seductress he recalled from his foggy memory. Her looks could bend anyone to her will he expected.
That is unless you were a bear-lion who wanted a cure.
"I know what you did," said Quin. "I know you lied about everything in your personnel file. All I want is not to look like this anymore. So cough up whatever pills you have to reverse this monster stuff."
"There is no pill," said Mortis, putting down an empty beaker. "I don't know how you tracked me down, but it was in vain."
"You made me a monster, and you can't fix it?," asked Quin, the fur on his neck standing up in sympathy to his anger.
"You were an experiment that succeeded in what I wanted to do," said Mortis. "You should be happy."
"I had a normal life that I liked and it was good to me," said Quin. "How am I going to go back to that looking like this?"
"I'm sure you will learn to live with your gifts," said the good doctor.
"Are we talking about the same thing, lady?," Quin shouted. "Look at me. I'm a monster."
"I can't help you with that," said Mortis. "Now if you will leave, I have work to do."
"I don't think so," said Quin, stalking forward. "You're coming with me. You, your notes, everything. I'll find someone else who can help me."
"I refuse," said Mortis, crossing her arms under her breasts. "You can't possibly be serious."
"Dead or alive, you're coming with me," said Quin, grabbing her arm, astounded by the amount of muscle he found under his touch.
"I don't think so," said Dr. Mortis, slapping his hand away. "I have been taking some of my vitamins too."
Quin frowned, surprised by the force of the touch. So it was going to be a fight. He hadn't been in a fight with anyone, much less a woman, in a long time. Anger overrode the niceties that he usually abided by.
Quin went with another grab, hoping to envelop the smaller doctor in a hug, then squeeze the stuffing out of her. She grabbed hold of his wrist with both hands and tried to pull him over her shoulder in a throw. It might have worked if he hadn't grabbed her leg at the last minute with his other hand. Being a couple of feet taller gave him a better reach and his gorilla arms only added to that. The Beast scooped the smaller woman up and tossed her over a table like throwing a pillow. She scattered chemicals this way and that as containers broke under her flying body.
"Last chance," Quin said, as she picked herself up. Her hair had come undone in a flying mane of fire. "We can still do this the easy way."
"You've wrecked my experiment," Mortis said. "You'll pay for that."
Quin's new body was almost eight feet tall, weighed more than 800 pounds, and was extremely muscular under the green fur cover he had. Additionally each finger had a built in knife, and his teeth weren't blunt where they sat in his gums. He was a sight to make brave men cross the street with a glance.
That didn't stop Dr. Mortis from vaulting the cleared work table like a gymnast, and charge the bigger experimental subject. It almost startled him enough to cost him a gold eye. He jerked his head out of the way at the last moment so the thumb scratched across his skin to the side of his long muzzle.
"So you want to get tough?," Quin growled. "I can get tough, lady."
Dr. Mortis went for his eyes again with her thumbs. He stood out of her reach, bringing his forearms up to knock her arms away. A foot snapped into his gut, driving him backwards against a wall. He leaped over her before she could land a one two combo to his face, or body. She tried to turn, but a green furred hand was faster with a slap.
I am not getting beat up by a woman. I don't care how strong she is.
Dr. Mortis rebounded from the wall, going for Quin's throat with both hands. A snarl made her face twist up into an ugly mask. He waited, knowing that no matter how strong she was, or how fast, his reflexes were faster. All he had to do was keep his distance and pick his moment. He backed away with his guard up, intent on taking full advantage of whatever opening he got.
Her hands snatched at empty air, leaving the chemist extended with no way to draw back from harm. One giant fist crashed against her cheek. She spun around from the blow. The doctor tried to recover her balance, but a foot punted her through a wall like a kick ball. One more kick caught her rear before she could stand up. That sent her across the next room head first, almost through the next wall she met.
"It's over, lady," Quin said, twisting a pipe he had ripped from a sink into handcuffs. "Time to face the music."
Epilogue
Quin Morgan, Clarissa Crockett Taylor, and Sheriff Riley Dawson were at the Sparta County jail. Dr. Mortis had been given a cell at the back of the small building for the moment. Mrs. Taylor knew someone in the government who would be glad to take the good doctor away.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Morgan," Mrs. Taylor said, looking over the notes spread on the sheriff's desk. "I don't think there's a cure. I'll put some people on it, but I don't know if there will ever be an antidote."
"What am I going to do about a job?," Quin asked. "I can't sell a thing like this."
"The company could set you up a fund as repayment," said Mrs. Taylor. "It would be a small amount every month but that should take care of you for as long as you live."
"Hush money?," said Quin.
"No," said Mrs. Taylor. "It's a reward for services rendered. It might have been years before anyone discovered what Mortis was doing. You probably saved numerous lives with what you did."
"Not to mention that gal is as strong as a bull," said Dawson. "I certainly couldn't have arrested her unless I shot her full of holes trying."
"I could turn this into some kind of job is what you two are saying," said Quin, rubbing his narrow jaw. "I could be some kind of professional hero."
"Just like the Demon Deacon," said Dawson. "That has to be better than anything else out there."
"I think you guys are crazy," said Quin.
"Crockett Chemicals has supported heroes in the past," said Clarissa. "We helped finance the Guardians of Justice during the war. I don't see how this would be any different. I'm sure my husband will agree."
"I still say you're both crazy," said Quin. "But I need a job, and this seems to be something I'm almost qualified for. I'll do it."