Chapter Twenty-Three

Arrin had been found by Ron Barton, a criminal lawyer, and his father, Clayton, a skilled surgeon. It was Ron who’d spotted Arrin, and it was Clayton who’d taken his gun away. He examined the weapon, marveling over the rare antique, and wondering how the clone had come to have it, before placing it on a nearby side table.

“Could you please brew some coffee son?” he asked as he began removing his unconscious patient’s sopping wet clothing.

Ron, who looked much like his father, except his brown hair had no trace of gray, went into the adjoining kitchen, but when he reached for the coffeemaker, he saw blood on his hand. He grimaced and hastily washed it off, using an excess of soap and scrubbing furiously.

Clayton called to Ron a...

Please subscribe to keep reading.