"There's an open window, get to it," he said.

[i]You don't have to tell me twice,[/i] thought Luca.

"Get out, now," he said again.

[i]Oh. Right.[/i]

Luca tumbled face-first through the window, landing sloppily on his shoulders and back. He scrambled up and started moving away from the vehicle, but paused when he saw the corpses lying in the road. He stared at them. [i]What a terrible waste.[/i] In Luca's timeline, life was the only scarcity in the universe. To shed blood was unthinkable, and those who shed it were detestable. He looked at the driver, or what was left of him -- or it? It was difficult to tell whether the driver had been alive or merely a simulacrum, so total was the annihilation. Luca's knees felt weak. [i]And I am meant.... I am meant to.... [b]follow[/b] that man?[/i] He stared at the shooter. Calm. Unaffected. Without remorse. [i]How can he just stand there? What is wrong with him?[/i]

Then all at once Luca had a realization. [i]Oh, shit. How can [b]I[/b] just stand [b]here[/b] in the middle of the road? What's wrong with [b]me?[/i] He sprinted towards the nearest wall and pressed himself against it. As luck would have it, this random vector put him nearly shoulder-to-shoulder with the red-haired shooter. [i]Sssssshhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiii........[/i]

"Who are you?" he asked. In his mind he had phrased it more elegantly, but when he spoke he simply blurted.