Destined to Fail: Part 03.

The Enemy

He watched the screen for a few more seconds before he turned and walked off into the bustle of people.

They were looking for them.

And although he didn't even dare think it to himself, he knew that they would find them.

He thought about having to break the news to her, and his heart broke. How would she take it? And what about the girl? She was sick, and if they didn't find some sort of help soon, she'd die.

But, he thought to himself as he walked through the crowds headed for home, they'd all be dead soon enough.

The thought made a lump rise in his throat, and tears welled in his cold eyes.

He turned off from the pavement down a side alley, and walked along for a few minutes along the dark backstreets of Los Angeles, the large coat he'd stolen from one of the CARS protesters billowed out behind him.

He came to the door, lit only by the tiny fluorescent light hanging above it.

They'd found this place abandoned a few hours after they'd escaped from the plant, and had used it as a makeshift home.

He knocked three times on the door, and said:

"Its me."

The door opened, and he slid in.

She hugged him, and the two of them stood embracing for a few moments before he broke away.

"I went by a TV store just now," he said huskily. "The news was on."

She nodded. "What did it say?"

He shuddered out a sigh.

"A person who looks just like me was shot by a policeman. They're looking for us."

She nodded sagely.

"We need to keep moving, if we stay here they'll find us soon enough."

"What about her?" he cried, pointing at the girl who lay on the bed asleep. Her head was bandaged where the bullet had grazed, and her front was covered by another bloodied bandage.

"She's too sick to move," he whirled around, and headed for the tiny kitchen. "We've got no choice but to wait."

"Wait for what?" she sobbed, walking towards him. "Wait for her to die?"

He looked at her.

"If need be," he said simply, as he turned to make himself some food.

She stared at him, then shook her head.

"We can't…"

"We may have to. Unless we can find someone who can help her, then she'll die. And bad as it seems, that's when we need to start moving."

"And what then? Do we just act as hunted beasts for the rest of our lives?"

"We'll get off this planet, find our way to one of the colonies. We'll be safe there."

He turned around and hugged her again.

"We'll be safe."

He rubbed her arm, just beneath the unfinished tattoo.

"Safe…"