Chapter Fifty-One – Along for the Fun

Chapter Fifty-One – Along for the Fun

“There was a strange surge of semi-religious action in early 2021. Most modern religions, from Christianity to the Islamic faith, couldn’t handle the existence of extraterrestrial life, either life that was incredibly hostile and antithetical to human life, or the existence of multiple races so much more advanced than humanity that they seemed nearly deity-like.

One of the final nails in the coffin on the great religions was the Protectors declaring that there was no magic to be found, no supernatural that they had observed, and that every miracle and disaster could be broken down into repeatable phenomena.”

–Excerpt from “The Rise of the New American Way.” 2030

***

The route cutting across the green zone and towards the first shelter I’d marked out happened to cross before the hospital. So, with a pang on my conscience, I had the driver pull up and stop before the large building.

Like most modern structures in New Montreal, the ground floor wasn’t actually designed to be all that accessible for normal people. The real access, or accesses, were across the many sky bridges connecting to the blocky concrete building.

There were ways into the hospital from the ground, of course. That’s where most freight and supplies would come in from.

Based on what I understood of city infrastructure, which was pretty much jack except what I’d picked up via osmosis, the majority of traffic on ground levels was made up of self-driving delivery and cargo and the occasional biker gang. Foot traffic was reserved for the truly desperate, the dumb, and the vagrants.

Cops wouldn’t do anything for someone caught in a heap of shit on the ground, not unless there was some major incentive. It was one of the reasons why pretty young girls were told never to travel outside of a building.

I figured the exception was when riding in a pair of armoured cars with eight or so heavily-armed soldier types.

Our driver pulled up to a pair of reinforced double doors just by the entrance and slowed to a stop. “We’re here!” she said in a sing-song-y voice.

I snorted and pushed my door open. She’d been kind enough to park just under one of the lower bridges, so the constant drizzle didn’t immediately ruin my almost-dried hair. Still, I pulled up the hood of my stealth coat, just in case. And then the inside of my hood went transparent, because of course it did.

Monroe ran around the back of the car and made some arcane gestures towards the others. Soon enough there were three soldiers as well as Monroe with me, and each car had a guard as well as their driver keeping them safe.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Monroe said.

I tried not to feel too self conscious as I moved towards the heavy, graffiti-covered doors. There was a plaque above them reading ‘Patterson Research Hospital’ in bold stainless-steel letters. I paused by the door, spotted a paint-covered doorbell-screen to one side, then sighed. “They’re expecting us, right?” I asked.

Monroe nodded. “Yes ma’am. Our PMC and the security force here are linked.”

I scratched at my cheek. Could I just ask that he call them up? Was that a bit too awkward? Could I have skipped this entire thing and done it over a vid-call? There was no point in beating myself up. I’d just figure it out the next time. “Got their number?”

“Ah, of course. Sorry,” Monroe said. “I’ll tell HQ to tell them that we’re here.”

And Monroe decided to take the blame.

I wasn’t used to adults assuming that I was in the right–especially when I wasn’t–but I could get used to it.

A bit of muffled babbling later, and the sergeant nodded. “They’re on their way, ma’am.”

Just as soon as he was done saying so, the door slid open with a gust of antiseptic air.

The inside of the hospital, at least the one corridor I could see, looked like any other building I’d seen, only with a whole lot more white. Standing in the entrance where two men and a woman, all geared up in vests and padded suits, shotguns held low by their sides.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

I licked dried lips then waved. “Hey,” I said.

The guns lowered. “Are you the escorts?” the man in the lead said.

I nodded. “More or less.”

He locked eyes with me, scanning me up and down. “You don’t look like a Clenze operative.”

“I’m not,” I said. “I’m just some two-bit Samurai who came along for fun.” I didn’t know how to feel about the way all three of them stood taller at that. I decided to settle on smug. “We’re not evacuating just yet. I wanted to make sure everything was hunky-dory with you lot before moving on to, uh, another objective.”