Firmin walked out of the clinic into the parking lot where the box truck, the black car with Takeshi, Emi and Becca, and now an ambulance all waited. He stepped up to the ambulance and gently opened the back door.
Baine. There he was. A twin of the past, hardly changed.
There were engraved lines lateral to his lips and along the corners of his eyes from dehydration. His cheeks were sunken, but otherwise he was fine. Dressed in paper thin white clothing, he lied on his own gurney with his hands handcuffed to the railings and a blanket pulled up to his chin.