Lab Rat part 39

Posted: February 23, 2011 in Fiction, Test Subject

The shooting stops, and so does the screaming. I keep going around the car, keeping low. I didn’t see a computer, and the guy offered me the front seat. Well, sort of. It wouldn’t be the first offer at gunpoint in my night, but I’m hoping it doesn’t become routine. I get around to the driver’s door, and peek in. The guy inside is out cold. He’s still breathing, but he’s going to need reconstructive surgery for sure. He’s got serious burns on the right side of his face and neck. He needs medical care. I check my hands for blood. They’re clean. Sort of. I open the door and reach across him. I pop his seatbelt loose, and drag him out of the car. I pull him onto the sidewalk and fish around in his pockets. After a second, I come up with a phone. I make sure his GPS is on and then I dial nine one one.

“Please state the nature of your emergency,” announces a bored voice.

“There’s a man lying on the sidewalk who has serious chemical burns on his face and neck. I don’t know where we are, but you can use the GPS on this phone to find him.” I don’t explain further. I leave the phone on as I do my best to wipe my fingerprints off of it. I drop it on his chest. “Good luck, buddy,” I tell the unconscious man. I turn and get into his car. Damn, it’s been a while since I drove. I take a quick look around. Still doesn’t look like a cop car. It’s missing all the usual accessories and I don’t see any buttons or switches that I don’t recognize. “Great, now I’m a car thief too. This is the best night ever,” I mutter. I put it in drive, and take off.

As I drive, I fish my own phone out of my pocket. I bring up the navigation program. Where the hell am I? As I wait for the satellite to find me, I try to think. I can’t go home tonight. Keegan is going to have guys there waiting for me. Except, I have to go home. My netbook might lead him to the lab. Taryn has already said she’s not interested in empowering criminals. Shit. Shit. Shit. I come to a stoplight. I bang my head on the steering wheel a couple of times. I’m starting to rethink this whole helping people thing. If I had let Ray Bans and Knuckledusters beat up that guy, my life would be so much easier. On the other hand, I’d hate myself. I can’t win. The light turns green. I hit the gas and recite my address into my phone.

Naturally, the arrow tells me I’m headed the wrong way. I get myself turned around, and hit the gas. I wonder if there’s any chance I’ll make it to my apartment before Keegan’s guys. I wonder if there’s any chance they’ll overlook my netbook. It’s got a pass code. Does he have someone who knows how to get around computer security? Damn. There’s way too much I don’t know. At least it’s pretty unlikely that they’ll mess with my bathroom cabinet too much. I’m going to have to ammonia the hell out of this car before I ditch it. I have enough problems without getting busted for borrowing this ride.

Still going over my story so far and editing for continuity. I’ve also been fixing some of my more awkward turns of phrase. Good news: I’m still interested in reading it, even though I know what’s going to happen next. I need to make sure I do more writing in the mornings though… I keep having crystal-clear visions of what comes next, but by the time work is over my mind is polluted. Just in case I needed another reason to hate where I’m at right now. It’s ok – I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

I just hope it’s not an oncoming train.

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