Nice to Meet You

The drone of the alarm woke Dr. John Smythe from slumber long before he was ready. He slammed it off, and headed off to take a shower with a groan. He ran through his morning routine half asleep, and got on the #11 bus to the hospital like he did every day.

John was a trauma surgeon at the New Hope Hospital in London, which meant he was far too much of an expert at treating gunshot and stab wounds for his liking. He enjoyed the challenges an emergency gave him, but he sometimes felt discouraged by how the flow never ceased. For every life he saved, there was always one he lost. Sometimes John wished that he could feel like he was actually making a difference, rather than just stemming the tide.

John's life revolved around his work. He was in his mid-thirties, lost his parents years ago to an accident when he was 16, only child, no other close family, the usual sad story. He'd always been too busy studying to find a steady girlfriend, and by the time he got to New Hope, he was comfortable living the bachelor life. He was good looking, if he didn't mind saying so himself, got along with most people, and was still cordial to those he didn't. All in all, John didn't feel like his life was missing much of anything.

As he entered the emergency ward, he greeted the nurses, set his stuff in the doctors' locker room, and began his shift. It was a relatively slow day. John was able to leave early, a fact he was grateful for, as his refrigerator had been decidedly bare that morning as he searched for breakfast, and he belatedly remembered that he needed to buy a nice suit for the wedding of a fellow doctor he was supposed to attend that weekend. He would have time to go to Henrick's that night for the suit and just pop into a grocery for some food before heading home.

Things didn't go quite as planned for John. As he was leaving the hospital, a friend came out after him and asked if he wanted to go for a drink. Not much of a drinker but not feeling able to refuse, John went out to a nearby bar for one beer before making excuses to leave. By then, he was nearer a market than he was Henrick's, so he bought food enough for a couple of days and dropped that at his apartment before heading to the shop. He got there just half an hour before closing, and quickly began looking for a suit. It didn't take long before he found a likely candidate in a brown pinstriped affair that he took an immediate liking to. It would look a little unorthodox at a wedding, but he didn't like going with the crowd anyways. If it fit, it would be perfect. With five minutes to spare, John took the suit to the changing room.

There was an unusual amount of plastic mannequins in the changing area; John wondered if that was where they kept the dummies at night. There had to be at least ten of them, and no staff in sight. Wasn't there supposed to be one somewhere, folding clothes, keeping an eye on the place? John had never worked in a shop, but that seemed to be what they were usually doing when he came in. They didn't want people walking off with clothes did they?

"Hello? Is there anybody in here? Look, I want to try on this suit before the shop closes. Hello!" There was a clatter somewhere John couldn't see. "Hello?" He peered around a corner. Nothing there but more shop window dummies. He looked back into the main shopping area. That was empty too. That seemed odd. The staff couldn't leave while there were still customers – could they? Another thump came from the dressing room. John turned back.

"Is that someone mucking about?" He turned to the right down an aisle of changing stalls. Still, there were only the plastic dummies. John looked under the stalls for feet, but saw none. As he straightened, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He jerked his head up, to see a dummy staring right at him. That wasn't doing that before, he thought. It took a halting step forward. "Right you got me. Very funny," John said as he started to back down the aisle again slowly. Three more started to move as well.

John closed his eyes hard, pinched himself, and looked back up. Unfortunately, the dummies were still moving towards him. John continued to back up. "Right I've got the joke. Very funny. Is this a staff thing? 'Cause I'm not finding it funny." He kept backing up, but was suddenly stopped by the hard feel of plastic gripping his shoulders. He looked over his shoulder; a fourth dummy had a tight hold of him and he couldn't break free. John looked back to the three dummies heading towards him, which now numbered six. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me." The lead mannequin raised its arm, and John closed his eyes, waiting for the blow.

Suddenly, a small hand slipped into his. He looks to his right. A short, dark-haired young woman grinned at him and tugged. "Run!" she said.

With an almighty jerk, John managed to tug free of the dummy holding him and follow the mysterious girl. She didn't look older than twenty. The mannequins ran after them. The girl led John to a service lift and jumped in. He blindly went in after her, the dummies close behind. The girl pulled out a strange-looking metal device and flicked it on. It made a whirring sort of noise and the lift doors started to close, but not before a dummy slipped an arm through to stop them.

John was pressed against the back of an elevator, wondering how the day could get any stranger. Who was this girl? Right then, she had a hold of the arm and was tugging on it roughly, as if trying to pull it off. But she didn't quite have the height to get the leverage. John went over to help, and together, it came off and the doors closed as the lift began its descent. John backed up again, leaving the girl holding the arm newly without a body.

"We just pulled his arm off," John stated the obvious.

"Yep! Plastic!" the girl said cheerfully.

John shook his head. "Very clever, nice trick. Who were they then, staff? Students? Is this a student thing or what?"

The girl looked back at him quizzically. "Why would they be students?"

John blinked. "I don't know."

"Well you said it. Why students?" she asked again.

"Cause to get that many people dressed up and being silly," John took a deep breath, "they have to be students."

The girl grinned at him. "That makes sense, well done."

John stared at her. That was a bit patronizing. "Thanks," he said somewhat sarcastically.

"They're not students." She turned back around to face the doors.

"Whoever they are, when the staff finds them, they're going to call the police," John tried.

"I already evacuated everyone. Said there was a gas leak," she replied. "You were the only one daft enough to miss the announcement."

John opened his mouth to protest or reply in some manner, but the lift doors opened just then. The girl went out and once again he followed. "Mind your eyes," she said, and pointed her metal thing at the controls again. They sparked, and John had to close his eyes.

That was it. "I've had enough of this now," John blurted. "Who are you, then? And for that matter, what was that upstairs?" The girl started moving quickly down the hall they were in and John followed, looking for answers. "I said, what was that?" He was really getting annoyed with this mysterious young girl ignoring him.

Finally, she began to talk, though John almost wished she hadn't. "They're made of plastic. Living, plastic creatures. They're being controlled by a relay device in the roof, which would be a great big problem if I didn't have this." She turned around right as they reached a door and held up a square, metal device that had a blinking light on it and some wires. John thought it looked like a bomb.

Wait. Plastic? Bomb?

But the girl continued. "So, I'm going to go up there and blow them up, and I might well die in the process, but don't worry about me. No, you go home. Go on. Go have a drink and forget this ever happened." She tossed him the plastic arm, which he caught by reflex. "Don't tell anyone about this, because if you do, you'll get them killed." She disappears back into the building. John just stood there, and his mouth may have been hanging open slightly. Not a moment later, the girl reappeared.

"I'm the Wolf by the way what's your name?" she asked.

"J-John," he stuttered.

The girl gave him the widest grin he'd ever seen, tongue poking slightly out of the corner of her mouth. "Nice to meet you John. Run for your life!" And with that, she was gone.

John bewilderedly began to walk away. He crossed the street, hardly aware when a black cab nearly ran him over and the driver yelled at him to watch where he was going. He stopped to look back once making it to the sidewalk, and just then, the top floor of Henrick's exploded. Fire shot out of the building, which quickly became engulfed. People panicked all around him, but John could only stare. Eventually, he came to his senses and ran all the way back to his apartment without looking back, throwing the plastic arm the girl had given him into a dumpster along the way.

John didn't sleep that night.