Dr. Miller stepped up to the edge of the roof where Seth stood.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“Please — I just need shelter,” the man replied. “I’ve walked all the way here from Olympia. The entire city has been overrun. The streets are stained with the blood of anyone who tried to stop them. I ran — I had to run. I don’t know if any of them made it.”
“You came from Olympia?” Dr. Miller asked. “On foot? I find that hard to believe.”
“I assure you, the blood in my shoes can confirm the fact.” The stranger wheezed a fake laugh.
“How did you escape the city?”
The stranger looked around as if expecting someone to flank him. Even on the monitor, Beth could see the sheer exhaustion in his face. He must be half insane from sleep deprivation, she thought.
“There was a bombing,” the man answered, staring down at his feet. “That’s how they started the attack. Utter chaos broke out. People were running everywhere, bloodied, trampling over each other. My children — my little boys — they didn’t survive. After seeing them…my instincts just told me to run. I made it out during all the confusion.”
The two men on the roof waited for him to continue, but he didn’t volunteer any more details.
“Please, I just need someplace to sleep,” the stranger said. “Maybe some food, if you have any to spare.”
Beth could see Seth and Dr. Miller turn to each other. Their lips moved, but she couldn’t hear what they said. Then Dr. Miller turned back to the stranger, who propped himself up against the concrete base of one of the parking lot lights.
“Are you under the control of an installed intelligence?” Dr. Miller asked.
“Of course not!” the stranger replied, like he was being accused. “My mind is my own.”
“Well, I hope you won’t be offended, but you’ll have to prove that before we let you in,” Dr. Miller explained. “Meet me at the side door and we’ll administer the test.”
The stranger simply nodded, then slunk towards the door on the side of the building. Dr. Miller and Seth unlocked the roof access door and came back down into the clinic.
“I’m backing you up,” Beta said, loading a clip into her handgun.
“Me too,” Franklin said, carrying a pump-action shotgun.
Seth nodded at Dr. Miller, who turned back to the hallway that led to the side exit.
“Wait,” Beth said. “I’m coming with.”
They could see the stranger through the safety glass of the side door. He glaced all around with a nervous expression until he noticed Dr. Miller and his crew coming to the entrance.
“Stand back,” Seth ordered the stranger through the closed door.
The man did so, and Seth led the way out of the entrance. Once everyone was outside, they closed it behind them.
Dr. Miller stepped forward and looked the stranger in the eye.
“You ready for the test?” he asked.
“I suppose so,” the stranger replied.
Dr. Miller raised his E.M.P. emitter so the man could see it. “If you’re actually a meat puppet, this device will destroy your neural implant and delete any I.I. that may be occupying it. The only way you’ll survive the test is if you’re human.”
The stranger didn’t even blink. “I’m ready,” he said. “My name is Gary, by the way.”
Dr. Miller pressed something on the device before waving it over Gary’s skull. The stranger followed the emitter with his eyes, but Beth couldn’t discern what was going through his head.
She expected the man to start screaming at any moment. She’d seen it happen before, a couple weeks back, when another “refugee” failed Dr. Miller’s test. If there was an I.I. in his brain, the stranger’s eyes would roll back in sheer agony and his mouth would nearly unhinge itself in a skeleton-like scream. Then he would become silent, the color would drain from his face, and he’d collapse to the pavement. That is, if there is an I.I.
None of that happened. A few seconds that felt like an hour passed and Dr. Miller retracted his emitter. He glanced back at the others.
“He’s clean,” he said. “Let’s get him inside.”
No one moved right away.
“Darren, we’ve only got so much food left,” Beta said, her gun still raised at waist height, ready to be snapped up into action. “Even if he’s clean, we can’t just let him in.”
“Yes we can, Beta,” Dr. Miller replied. “We can grow more once the snow finishes melting. Besides, I stocked the safehouse in the first place. I say we let him in.”
Beta furrowed her brow in frustration, but said no more.
The others watched as Gary stuffed his face with the can of peaches Dr. Miller had fetched him. He didn’t bother with the fork they offered him. Instead, he just dug into the sticky syrup with his filthy bare fingers, fishing out chunks of fruit and shoving them into his mouth, one after another.
“Someone’s hungry,” Simon commented. “I don’t miss that feeling.”
Everyone seemed a little on edge, except Dr. Miller. As soon as he did his test with the E.M.P. emitter, he lost all doubt about their new guest. He asked for more details of his story, but Gary hardly had breath between bites to say much. The others kept weapons within arms reach and watched him carefully. It took an hour or two before they started to join in on the conversation and relax. Before long, it was like Beth’s first night, when she went from feeling like a total stranger to one of the gang. They were laughing and sharing stories. Dr. Miller even opened up one of the wine bottles from his stash and shared it with everyone.
When people started peeling away from the group to succumb to sleep, Dr. Miller started setting up a cot for Gary in the pediatric examination room, where Beth had been put. It was the only place left to sleep that wouldn’t drop below zero during the coldest parts of the night.
Beth was too tired to protest or even care, falling asleep in
