Anonymous Duplicate

2

Patrick Evans was walking along pathway 90 with the only other two people in existence insane enough to attempt what they were doing.

The group they were apart of didn't have a name, but it was 100% dedicated to freeing and obtaining rights for medical clones.

They were heading to a closed off section of Warrenwick one of three hospitals catering exclusively to the rich and famous which meant there would be a clone or maybe several inside the building. There were only four hospitals total in the whole Republic and the fourth Patrick guessed had to be about a quarter of the size of Warrenwick.

Their objective today Patrick had to admit wouldn't achieve much in the grand scheme of things, however it would draw attention to their cause... and most likely get them executed.

Nina, a nimble wisp of a woman, self-appointed medic and Patrick's usual partner had decided to sit this particular little activity out so instead Patrick was accompanied by Beo and Starr, two equally capable guys who were sharing the weight of a duffle.

Patrick thought about the crude mish mash of items which formed their bomb.

Seeing as it was far from the S devices people used nowadays which could create concentrated seismic waves to bring down a building it would create more of a mesmerising light show than an actual explosion, however it would hopefully blow a good chunk of the wall out which was all they needed.

Patrick nodded to Beo. 'Set it up,'

Beo nodded and dragged Starr along who was bending over and wheezing from the exertion -and most likely his asthma. They can cure it however it involves one: A whole lot more money than all three of their life savings combined; and two: a steady round of heavy duty injections. Incidentally Starr was afraid of needles.

'And what exactly will you be doing?' he huffed, pulling a vial of foul smelling green liquid from his pocket, which he downed in one swallow.

Patrick shrugged. 'stand at a safe distance because I'm not suicidal, have no idea what I'm doing and quite like having my head attatched to my shoulders?' he said with a wry grin not once pausing in his epic run on sentence, to which Starr -the shortest one of the group- raised his rough palms skywards -his universal "I give up" gesture- and made his way over to help Beo, staggering.

Patrick watched as the two men fiddled with various parts of the device, all the while engaging in a frantic form of sign language, which only got more frantic as Beo produced a flat edged hammer.

When Starr asked Beo's reply caused him to burst out: "What do you mean just in case!"

Beo's hands moved swiftly. transitioning fluidly between the intricate symbols. a fast-paced and precise dance.

Starr began to repeatedly clench his fists and breathe deeply, obviously trying not to start something which would result in many broken limbs. Not Beo's limbs either.

When he calmed down enough Starr continued the conversation as both went back to working.

Patrick couldn't sign half as well as Starr could so his communication with Beo was somewhat limited but he knew the odd word so believed the gist to be: if it didn't go off first time round, Beo would hit it with the hammer until the 30 second back up timer engaged then would cut a very close run in the direction of him and Starr... at that moment Patrick began to understand why Starr was driven into a conniption so easily by the certifiably mad Beo.

Fortunately for Starr who seemed to be on the brink of a monumental apoplexy, it worked first time round and as Patrick had predicted produced a pretty wall of flames as well as a sizeable hole in which they could fit through.

When some of the smoke cleared Patrick saw they were in an O.R everybody had cleared except the patient who lay screaming at the top of her lungs. she must have been forgotten in the commotion Patrick thought. He knew for certain it was a she because only a woman could form the ear splitting screech currently slipping from the patient's mouth.

Patrick ran to her and lifted her into his arms saying the most soothing things he could think of in an attempt to calm her down. She stopped screaming but instead began thrashing violently in his arms, copping him one in the jaw.

For a split second he let his grip on her slip and she fell from his arms however Beo -the ever present contingency- was there, arms placed a ways under Patrick's to catch her.

Beo touched her neck with two fingers and then nuzzled the side of her face. She stopped moving and was quiet. Patrick didn't know what he had done but was grateful. Beo handed the girl over to Patrick who finally realised she was naked and looked away. Out of the corner of his eye Patrick saw Starr remove his weather beaten jacket and respectfully cover her as best as he could.

Looking back Patrick also noticed she had only indistinct fuzz covering her head. It was unheard of for a woman to have hair shorter than her shoulders. How strange. Making certain he had a good grip on her this time Patrick turned to leave.

'what the hell are you doing Patrick?' Starr demanded.

Patrick looked puzzled 'going home? We did our job time to go.' He stated. it was kind of obvious what he was doing.

'you can't just take a patient from Warrenwick!' he shouted stressing the name to get it to sink in 'they'll have the goddam hounds on us!' Beo sucked in a sharp breath and Starr looked immediately apologetic.

'I don't think she's a patient Starr'

'well then what is... oh. Oh!'

'When she wakes up she's going to be scared and confused. And didn't we make it our job to help clones? well she needs our help,'

Starr opened his mouth then closed it again like a fish. He had nothing to say.

Feeling good about himself Patrick turned and stepped out into the sunlight, trekking back down the road with the precious load in his arms. Something was niggling in the back of his mind however. He didn't know why if anything this was a dream run. They'd come in without a hitch, the P 90 was abandoned and no one had been tipped off they were here yet. So why did Patrick have this tugging feeling in his gut? Patrick knew instinctively that something was wrong... he couldn't put his finger on it though.