1.
BANG!
Seimole once again fought back the urge to look behind her. She had to keep running, she had to escape. She could feel her pursuers gaining on her. She could feel them getting closer. She could also feel the pain in her legs and the burning in her lungs. She had to keep running, she had to fight her body's overwhelming desire to collapse, she had to live, she had to tell her story.
As she rounded a corner, hope welled up within her as she caught sight of a fully lit gas station a few hundred metres ahead. Surely those chasing her wouldn't attack her there, surely she would be safe there. Wouldn't she? Would she ever be safe? She ran on fighting the pain in her chest and her legs, gasping for air and hoping for freedom. She ran towards the blazing lights as tears streamed from her eyes down her windblown and muddy face.
"HELP ME! PLEASE, HELP ME!" She screamed as she neared the gas station. She could see two people standing inside. She ran headlong towards the store, towards the people, she ran towards hope and safety. Her heart felt like it was going to pound its way of her chest. She was so tired and sore. She just wanted to stop, to give up, to lay down and sleep. Instead she raced on, only a few metres more. "HELP ME, PLEASE!"
Relief washed over Seimole as she saw two men emerge from the gas station's convenience store and head for her at a quickened pace. She risked looking behind her, to see how close were her pursuers but they had stopped at the edge of the flood of light cast by the many lights of the gas station. She was safe, she had made it, she managed to escape after so many had not. She swung her head around again to look towards her saviours and collapsed on the spot. She could finally stop running. Immediately her legs began to cramp up painfully, but she did not care. She had made it. What was that? What are they holding? Seimole found it hard to focus on her new found protectors, the exhaustion and panic finally having taken its toll on her mind. Why had they stopped? She longed for them to come to her, to comfort her, to tell her she was safe and that they would protect her. She looked behind her once again. Her pursuers were slowly walking into the light, slowly advancing. She tried to talk, but nothing came out of her parched throat. She looked again at the two men who were now standing in front of her. Why had they stopped? What were they holding? Why was he raising his arm like that?
BANG!
Everything went black for Seimole.
The man lowered his arm and with it the gun that he was carrying. Smoke curled out from the barrell as the casing bounced off the pavement below. He turned to his partner who was scanning the surrounding area to see if the sound of the gun shot had attracted any curious onlookers. Once he was satisfied that no one was lurking about, he waved to the three men who had been chasing the woman, urging them to come over. "This is the last of them right?" The second man asked the group that had now assembled around the prone body in front of them.
"Yeah. Do you think she knew?" The man who had fired the fatal shot asked as he holstered his gun and knelt down and cradled the woman in his arms. He found her oddly beautiful. He didn't know exactly why. Was it the strangely serene expression that had come over her face now that she was dead? Her eyes were a little too wide, her cheek bones a little too high, he thought. Yet that seemed to provide her with some sort of exotic aura about her. Her ice blue eyes stared up at him, now empty. He began to stroke her hair as his companions watched silently. He gently placed his hand upon her cheek and ran his fingers down towards the nape of her neck. It became obvious that he was searching for something. He felt around the back of her neck and up towards her hair line. There was a faint click, and then her a thin black line formed around the edge of her face. He waited another second and then pulled off her face revealing the racing lines of light beneath which formed the circuits of the replicant.
"I doubt it. These nex-gens were quite advanced, with their mem-sim implants and emotive generating processors. She probably truly believed that she was Seimole Dayle." The second man answered. There was a hint of sympathy in his voice as he looked down upon the exposed circuits of the machine.
"No I don't think so," said the man holding Seimole Dayle's double.
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