@quantumimmortalities
He had been avoiding it for days. When he first heard about the clinic, he had thought the odds were stacked against the owner being who he thought it was-that it was all too coincidental for him, of all people, to be in this city, to be so close to him. He knew that was a lie. When he first saw the clinic, Kyle tried to deny it, to keep the safety of speeding traffic between him and the building. For what he knew, Klim was not an uncommon name-it was, in fact, not unusual that a doctor named Klim be stationed in the city that had no relation to Kyle at all. That was the lie he kept trying to tell himself.
The odds didn’t matter when your father controlled your reality.
Akane had taught him about lockpicking. Nothing fancy, just the basics. She liked to tell him about things that weren’t typically a part of his educational videos, things that she said “You never know when they might come in handy.” She rarely talked about the world-how it once was, how it would be, but she did talk about the inherent danger in strangers, the risk of trusting them versus the reward for being prepared. She believed greatly in being prepared for any situation. If there was not a way out, you have already lost.
The street was empty around him, and the moon had already risen high in the sky. The only sounds were that of the humming of the streetlamps, and the distant sound of dogs barking.
Kyle went through the door. Only a faint sliver of light was able to intrude from the outside. Even in the darkness, the sterile white walls and floor were familiar to Kyle. The impersonal and barren space of a man trying to escape the comforts of a regular life. Kyle did not know much more than the sterility of a room like this, separated by over two hundred thousand miles from the comfort of any other human contact. It did not discomfort him. It just brought up those old feelings of bitterness and nostalgia.
He kept the door opened and move towards the other end of the room, feeling around in the dark for the shape of a desk. He circled his way around it, finding a spot to sit down and then trying to map out where Klim would keep personal documentation. He felt for a drawer on the bottom right side, flipping through folders and papers, trying to make out any giveaways that it was what he was looking for. A letter, an address, a name... anything, anything...
It was when he got his hand on a particularly large stack of documents that the lights came on. He froze in place, and suddenly felt like a rabbit trying to escape a bear trap.