Being noticed after the altercation that had resulted in Doan's death would be a very bad idea.  It was more likely that Hanz was the one the authorities would be searching for but all it would take someone mentioning the small blonde woman that had been so casually thrown into a tree and walked away relatively unscathed and she would be right back on their radar.  Whatever happened, Clara was<b>not</b>going back to Nowak and his experiments.<br/><br/>She shoved her hands in her front pockets, hunched her shoulders up around her ears, and kept her eyes directed toward the sidewalk, only risking small glances up to check her surroundings.  Fortunately for Clara, she didn't need to rely on her eyes to tell her where she was.  Her ears told her when people were getting close.  Her nose was filled with the scent of humans and car exhaust and full trash cans.<br/><br/>And eggs.<br/><br/>Clara kept walking but now her nose was higher in the air and she was following the deliciously distinctive scent of breakfast foods wafting through the air.  She could already taste the pancakes smothered in syrup and piles of scrambled eggs she was going to shove in her face.  Without even realizing it, her boots picked up speed, lead by the demands of her stomach.  There was no denying her baser needs now.  She<i>had</i>to eat and soon otherwise she would become highly ineffective and very sloppy.<br/><br/>The distinctive blue-and-white sign of IHOP appeared down the street like some miraculous sign from above.  A smile flashed across her face.  Everything was going to be okay.  Moving as quickly as she could without breaking into a jog, Clara beelined for the restaurant.  Getting inside was easy.  Getting a table was even easier.  Before she knew it, she had two large glasses of chocolate milk sitting on the table in front of her as she persued the menu.<br/><br/>"What can I getcha?" asked the older waitress with a bosom like a shelf.<br/><br/>Her finger ran down the semi-sticky laminated page of the menu and landed on the biggest breakfast platter they had.  "This one.  The Split Decision.  Scrambled eggs."  Slowly, she flipped the page.  "And a spinach and mushroom omelet.  Oh and one of those grilled buttermilk biscuits with lots of butter."  Clara closed the menu and lifted it into the air for the waitress to take.  "If you have fresh fruit, I'd like some of that too."<br/><br/>The waitress scribbled it all down on her beat-up little pad of order slips and looked over her glass, one eyebrow lifting slightly.  "Anything else?"<br/><br/>Oblivious to the little dig the woman was making, Clara simply shook her head.  "No, that's enough for now."  She glanced up and offered a half-smile before reaching for the closest glass of chocolate milk.  It was her favorite and she was going to enjoy every single drop.<br/><br/>Without another word, the server disappeared to put her order in, shaking her head at the food she knew the young woman was just going to waste.