Santi had been wrong.  The guy with the gun was<span style="font-style: italic">not</span>one of<span style="font-style: italic">them</span>.<br/><br/>When he moved toward her, she shrank back with a fearful yip, as though trying to go through the wall she was leaning against.  Instead though he strode passed her, and the<span style="font-style: italic">moment</span>he opened the window and she saw the black-garbed person there, she felt a wave of horror pass through her.  The ninja-like garb... something deep inside her memory shook the walls of its mental prison.  She knew immediately that of the two men she was looking at, the motionless black-clad one or the scruffier trenchcoated one, the trenchcoat guy was the lesser of two evils... or so her instincts told her.  And her instincts had never been wrong... well, until today... that she knew of, at least.<br/><br/>The man showed her the armed men at the door, and she knew immediately that she preferred to go with<span style="font-style: italic">him</span>.  She was into bondage, but something told her she would be getting far more than she had bargained for if she let those men take her...<br/><br/>She watched as he deftly pulled the guy on the fire escape into the apartment and knocked him out before he could even realize something was happening.  When he then asked her if she was going to find some clothes, she still couldn't think yet; however when Tim screamed his hopeless question, the man's answer...<span style="font-style: italic">that</span>she<span style="font-style: italic">heard</span>.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">“Because you're an earlier version, so I'm told,”</span>he said, and at that point Santi was staring at him.<span style="font-style: italic">“Something about binding proteins on the nano-machine walls specific to your cells. I never completed my bio degree. One-twelve."</span><br/><br/>She had no idea what he was saying... no idea what he was talking about.  But there was a terrible suspicion in her mind...<br/><br/>She looked over at Tim... at his useless attempts to save Shari.  The boy was already broken inside, surely, to devour a human being without a trace of guilt... but if she died, even though it was almost certain that she would, it would shatter whatever sanity he had left... or so Santi suspected.  Psychotic though she'd been, Shari had been family to Tim... Lover, mother, friend, rolled into one.  Manipulative, surely, and likely not really giving a shit about him, but...<br/><br/>She stared at him for a few more seconds, almost to the 3:00 mark on the stranger's hissing canister.  Then, with a soft, shuddering breath, she took her decision.  She pushed herself to her feet, slipping in the blood, but by bracing herself against the wall she managed to stand up.  She walked over to Shari and Tim, naked and heedless of it.<br/><br/>"Tim," she said, softly.  "Whatever you're trying to do, it's not working."  She looked down at the dying woman.  "Get... get up.  Take this.  Get him a gun if you got one, but wash this.  Okay?  Fast.  Please."  She flopped the bloody one-piece suit onto his shoulder.  She could get other things to wear but somehow she had a feeling she wanted to be wearing something that wasn't likely to be catching in anything... the suit would be the best in that sense.  "Use the toilet water, I don't care."  She'd dumpster-dived for food before.  Wet clothing was nothing by comparison.  And the suit was<span style="font-style: italic">hers</span>, damn it.<br/><br/>She shook his shoulder until he actually looked at her, and hopefully actually heard her.  "Your blood won't help her.  Do what he said, and wash this, and... and let me try."  She swallowed.  She couldn't believe she was going to try this... try to save the life of a woman that was going to enjoy watching her die.  Cut herself open to do it.  Insane.  She was insane...<br/><br/>She stepped to the side of the bed, and she brought her hand down on top of the bowl of strawberries, hard.  She felt pain, sharp pain, as the porcelain broke and shards tore into her hand... but that was nothing.  She closed her fist, gripping a sharp shard, and glanced over at the waiting stranger, looking at the timer on his device.  "I'm going with<span style="font-style: italic">him</span>.  But you've got forty-five seconds to let me try to save her."  She paused.  "And don't ever forget that I<span style="font-style: italic">tried...</span>"