Rain slid like cold needles from the sky as Alvish ran through the maze of serpentine streets, dark-bodied corridors beneath the ever-present neon of The City.
A whirring, like an immense fan blade, followed him.
“Stop!” A hv-sled zipped after him like a flat black beetle, its carapace occupied by two kneeling Guards.
Alvish glanced back, turned, started off again. No time. No time!
The hospital was just ahead now, pearly white in the rain’s fog. He crossed the threshold, then took off down white hallways. He knew the way. Minutes to spare.
Behind him: crashing glass, angry shouts. But he would make it.
But, when he burst into the room, there was only an empty bed. The indentation of a body, some time gone.
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Hi there! I’m Odin Halvorson, a librarian, independent scholar, film fanatic, fiction author, and tech enthusiast. If you like my work and want to support me, please consider becoming a paid subscriber for as little as $2.50 a month!
