Chapter 5 - The Clinic
The robotic countdown echoed through the quiet cabin of the car like a death knell.
Sixty minutes until the horrific device strapped to my granddaughter's chest did something unspeakable.
I desperately wanted to drive straight to the nearest hospital emergency room.
But Adam’s terrified warning completely paralyzed my rational mind.
If the people at the party were organized handlers, they would absolutely have local hospitals on their payroll.
Walking into a public emergency room would be equivalent to handing Maisie back to her executioners.
I needed a doctor who operated completely off the grid, someone who asked absolutely no questions.
I made a sharp, illegal U-turn and sped violently toward the industrial district on the edge of town.
I prayed that my old friend, Dr. Aris, was still running his underground clinic for uninsured immigrants.
I pulled the car into a dark, abandoned alleyway behind a dilapidated laundromat.
I wrapped Maisie tightly in the towel, hiding the frantically flashing red light from public view.
I hammered my fists aggressively on the heavy steel door at the back of the building.
The door cracked open, and a tired, gray-haired man peered suspiciously through the narrow gap.
"Helen," Dr. Aris whispered, his eyes widening in absolute shock.
"Aris, please, you have to help me," I begged, pushing my way into the dimly lit, sterile back room.
I placed Maisie gently onto an examination table and pulled the thick towel entirely away.
Aris gasped loudly, stepping backward as if I had just placed a venomous snake on his clean table.
"Where did you get this child," Aris demanded, his medical professionalism instantly replaced by sheer terror.
"She is my granddaughter," I pleaded frantically.
"You have to cut it off her right now, the timer is counting down."
Aris grabbed a heavy pair of surgical shears, his hands shaking as he examined the thick nylon straps.
He touched the cold metal casing of the central box, tracing a faded logo stamped into the plastic.
The logo read Apex Genesis.
All the blood completely drained from the doctor's weathered face.
He slowly dropped the surgical shears onto the metal tray with a loud, depressing clatter.
"I cannot cut those straps, Helen," Aris whispered, backing away from the examination table.
"Why not," I screamed, the panic completely overtaking my polite demeanor.
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"Because this is not a medical monitor or a shock collar," Aris explained with profound horror.
"It is an explosive biometric bomb, and if I sever the straps, it detonates instantly."
