The Duplicate

Chapter Five

Twenty minutes. That's all he gives me.

But as soon as I am out of my car, walking across the hospital parking lot, it's as if a weight has lifted off my chest. I can breathe a little easier now that I don't have a gun itching to point at me every moment, now that I don't have a nightmare shadow looming over me, watching my every move. My steps grow more and more confident the farther I leave Trip behind.

I can do this.

I breeze through the hospital's sliding doors and start for the elevators.

It is quiet at this time of the morning. One lone nurse, her shoes squeaking on the glossy floor, walks the hall and disappears through a doorway. The faint sound of a television—only murmurs—echoes down the hall from the lobby.

The stillness is unnerving. With jittery fingers, I press the UP button for the elevator and wait, watching the bright red numbers above me count down from four to one. The two doors ease open, and when they do, a deep, muffled dong reverberates off the walls all the way down the hallway.

I take the elevator to the third floor.

My memory of this floor is a little dim. I have only been to Archives a couple of times, only to drop off paperwork as a favor for Doctor Hampton. So when I step out of the elevator, my eyes immediately go to the directory sign posted at the corner of the hall.

Left.

I go left.

This floor is just as deserted as the first. I am alone as I walk the halls, following each directory sign I come across until I finally reach Archives. The room is sectioned off of the hallway by a glass wall, allowing a full view of the well-furbished lobby inside. As I draw nearer, I spot the front desk and the male attendant seated at it. He is staring blankly at the computer screen, every so often flicking his finger over the touchscreen, most likely playing a game of solitaire or hearts... until I open the glass door and step in.

With a slight jolt, he straightens and blinks a few times at me. And I silently thank God it is a man working the front desk this morning.

"Hello." He clears his throat. "Can I help you?"

I whip up the best smile I can manage as I approach the high-set desk. "Hi—" a quick glance down at the name tag clipped to his scrubs "—Corey. I hope so."

"You're... Eve, right?"

I give a surprised look.

"I've seen you come in here a few times before," he says, and then lapses into an awkward silence. When I can't find anything to say and just nod, prolonging the awkwardness, his face starts to turn beat red. He finally breaks the silence by drumming his hands on the desk. "So, what is it you need?"

Here it goes. I take a breath before saying, "I need to request a file from Emulation."

"Sure." Corey nods. "I'll just take the request form and—"

"I don't have a request form."

Corey blinks at me some more. "You don't?"

"Well, you see..." I lower my voice just a tad and lean in on the desk. "This is more of a personal request. For a friend."

Corey slowly shakes his head, making a hissing sound through his teeth. "Actually, we're really not supposed to do that. I could get into a lot of trouble. I have to have a request form signed by the appropriate doctor."

"I know." I fidget with the sleeve of my coat. "But if you could make just one exception. I just... I really need this file."

If only I could tell him that I am a hostage who will be chopped up into a minced meat pie if he doesn't give me this file. But he seems to be waffling now. He squirms in his chair and as if someone may be listening, throws a few glances around the room. "I don't know."