“She expired before the incident with three-one-six.”
“And her extra-human strength?”
“Three-one-six appears to have assumed her attributes.”
The doctor looked up through the destruction in the wake of Kristof’s escape. “Any idea on what he meant on the fifteen day thing?”
“No, Doctor Globe. We’re acquiring his records as we speak.”
Doctor Globe rubbed the elbow that hit the floor when Kristof pushed him down. “I want those records. Expedite the acquisition.”
* * *
“Holy Shit! You guys see that?” Joaquin was still sprawled on the pavement where Kristof had left him.
“I’m getting the hell outta here, Joaquin. This was supposed to be an easy score with benefits.”
“Come on, don’t puss out on me.” Joaquin stood and watched the rest of his crew as they fled the scene. “Pussies.” He muttered under his breath and jogged down the street.
* * *
Kristof landed in an empty aisle in the hospital’s parking lot. The emergency room was on the opposite side of the hospital as the parking garage he had walked out of several hours ago. When he landed, the alarm on a car two aisles away sounded.
He ran to the emergency room entrance and when he got to the intake desk, he shouted. “My wife was hit my falling debris! I think her arm might be broken!”
Nurses, orderlies and the desk police officer rushed to assist Kristof and his wife.
* * *
“Doctor Globe.” A woman in a lab coat clutched a folder to her chest. “Or is it Major Globe?”
Doctor Globe smiled and let the pen he was writing with flop to the desk. “Either is fine, but I prefer ‘Jacob.’”
“Yes, Doctor. I have some preliminary information on…” She looked at the folder, “subject three-one-six.”
Doctor Globe reached for the file and the woman handed it to him and said, “Three-one-six is the progeny of one-nine-eight and two-zero-two.”
“Interesting.” Doctor Globe said as he looked through the file. “Why don’t we have more information on three-one-six?”
“He hadn’t manifested any abilities and we thought the gene didn’t pass from the previous generation.”
Doctor Globe scrutinized the information in the file. He looked up after a few minutes to see the woman still standing in front of his desk. “Dismissed.” He said before returning to the file.
* * *
“Gimmie your keys!” Joaquin grabbed the arm of the driver of a midsized sedan. He had yanked open the driver door only seconds before. The driver saw the knife caked with blood pointed at him and pulled out his service revolver and shot Joaquin in the shoulder.
Joaquin screamed out and slumped to the pavement. The occupant he had tried to carjack kicked away the dropped knife, produced a set of handcuffs and restrained Joaquin before radioing dispatch for backup and an ambulance.
* * *
Kristof slouched in a chair in the waiting room. Adrenaline had subsided and he found himself sleepy. He reached down to the leg of the metal chair beside him and bent the leg before returning it to its previous position. The chair didn’t quite balance correctly so he poked the chair and watched it rock. The stress of the day overwhelmed him and sleep consumed him in the hospital waiting room.
Here’s the continuation of Sixteen Sunsets. Chuck is doing this goofy three sentence challenge this week so I promptly ignored it and continued this. Only 542 words, so make the best of them.