“It’s you!” exclaimed Tamaya.
Keegan picked himself up off the sidewalk. “Uh… What’s me?”
“You were in the accident, weren’t you?”
“Um, why would you say that?” stammered Keegan, clearly taken aback.
“You are way to warm for a normal person,” Tamaya blurted in response, briefly touching his still warm shoulder to make sure she wasn’t imagining things. “So that’s your bike just sitting at the side of the road? I knew it looked familiar.”
“Wha… what are you talking about?”
“And you were shot trying to get it back the other day…”
“Okay, WHAT?!? How do you know any of this?”
“I was at work and— Ohmygosh, you’re dying.”
Rick arrived at Keegan’s apartment, out of breath from running —or trying to run— the whole way. “Dude what happened? I was out for a walk when I got a text telling me to come over here right away.” He entered the room and saw Tamaya sitting on the couch. He looked at Keegan at his desk and asked, “wait, didn’t she leave?” —he turned to address her directly— “Didn’t you leave?”
“Yeah, sorry I couldn’t explain,” Keegan replied, “but texting isn’t secure at all. Apparently she’s an intern at the place where the thing I picked up at the accident is experiment number five-seven-zero-zero-five.”
“Really?” Rick squinted and then whispered loudly to Keegan, “can we trust her?”
“I’m right here…” Tamaya muttered.
“Look,” offered Keegan, “she’s only an intern there and she really isn’t supposed to know about the experiments at all. She just happened upon some notes about the accident and decided to come see. Besides, if we couldn’t trust her I’m sure it would already be too late.”
“Okay, so what did these notes say?”
“Well,” Keegan began, “most critical is the fact that all human test subjects had a fatal mental breakdown within a couple weeks.”
“And they all deteriorated into piles of dust,” Tamaya added.
“Shit, that’s comin’ up, isn’t it.”
BTW, even though he has no cellphone, when he needs to Keegan sends texts using his computer.