1000 Callings

Chip

The sirens blared at the house of the richest man in New America, plastic surgeon Dr. K. L. Hallow. Smoke rose from the highest point of his fifty story house where he had been. I saw him on the stretcher, his face had not burned and gone red. Of course not. It had melted. The ashy color of the gooy plastic nearly hid the perfect white he had tried so hard to achieve. I left the paramedic against the wall on the opposite side of the building and tucked in her shirt into the ugly blue pants, as I rushed to help the EMT escort him into the ambulance.
The moment I boarded the vehicle behind him and the doors where closed the paramedic started the car,
"Ambulance 487.3 drive to the nearest hospital." I proceeded to grab a tranquilizer syringe and jab it into the leg of the EMT next to me. The paramedic accross the cab pulled a gun, yelling,
"Stop!" I twisted it out of his hands.
I pointed the gun at the three paramedics from a safe distance.
The paramedic launched himself at me and I knocked him out with the butt of the gun. The last two paramedics glanced at each other and swallowed their own saliva.
I glanced at the tranquilizers and they both took up syringes and injected that into their own arms. I gave each one a drug I made from sleeping pills.
You won't remember a thing. I thought as I dripped the last drops into the EMTs mouth.
I pulled the camera out of the corner ceiling and ground the memory chip into a million pieces replacing the camera into the corner.
I picket up the millionaires hand which had fortunately been left nearly unaltered by the flames and removed the chip from the back of his hand.
I held it up to the one in my forehead. When the transfer was complete I placed the chip back into his hand. I removed the paramedics cloths and placed them into my bag.
"Ambulance 487.3" I played from my recorder device."stop." The car stopped and I exited the vehicle.
"Ambulance 487.3, drive to the nearest hospital." I played from the device. I removed my weighted vest and my oversized shoes and my rubber gloves, which I tucked into my bag
"This ain't my first rodeo." I whispered quoting some vintage show from back when movies where projected on two dimensional screens. from as I stuck out my thumb for the next passenger to recognize. My black leather jacket scorched my skin but it was better than seeing the scars of my past lives. The next passenger stopped their car and aloud me to get in.
"Just to the next subway?" He asked. I nodded. His car responded,
"Do you want your route to go to the nearest subway before continuing to your destination?"
"Yes." he replied.