This story takes place late in the first season of 'Sliders'. Please review if you have time!
I promise the story will improve as time progresses!
A shout out to Jessie Bear, Jonathan, Emi, and Michaela!
This chapter is dedicated to Onmar, and Sherrielynne, my only reviewers, and to Jon,
my new inspiration.
To Wade Wells and the rest of her companions the violent crash happened without warning. Usually, they tried to lay low until it was time to slide. The Professor had always advised them not to get involved with the more dangerous worlds that they slid into, but one of them always found themselves mixed up in the life of their double. The group had only been there for five days, and they already found themselves knee-deep in a government conspiracy involving Quinn's double.
Apparently, the alternate Quinn had managed to perfect sliding where such things were unquestionably illegal. He had worked on what could only be disclosed as a "repopulation" project for the government. On this world, Quinn had become the youngest geneticist in his field. He had graduated med school at 19 and had been employed by the government immediately.
Although on the surface it seemed as if Quinn was a posterboy for the federal government, his intentions were entirely different. It seemed that at every chance he was given he set the project that he was working on one step behind. They had found this out while going through his home computer, looking for information on the sliding device that he had managed to build. They discovered that the alternate Quinn had gotten no farther on perfecting his sliding device that Quinn had. He had not even slid once, but had sent countless objects through the vortex.
The group had yet to uncover what exactly the alternate Quinn intended to use the sliding machine for. They guessed that it involved the woman who was currently living with him. There were no clues in the alternate Quinn's computer to tell them who she really was. The four had taken on the task of staking out the woman to see if she had somehow been involved with the creation of the sliding machine. She hardly ventured out of their house if she was not with Quinn. He seemed to be extremely overprotective of her, and the group found this interesting. This woman was a person of utmost importance to Quinn, but he did not allow his home and business lives to overlap.
Earlier that day, the Sliders followed the two around San Francisco, desperate for something that would lead them to more advanced sliding technology. It had been a little over a year since they had first slid, and all of them were becoming overly anxious at the prospect of getting home. Unfortunately, the couple's actions revealed nothing. Only as they were heading back to the Motel 12 did something significant occur. The group had parked their rental car on the side of the road, spreading their map of the area across the hood of the car in an attempt to find the right road back to town. Only Rembrandt witnessed the crash. The two cars hit head on. There was nothing either of the drivers could have done to stop it.
When the group saw that the car that had been hit was the one of the alternate Quinn, they stumbled up the steep embankment; willing to help in any way possible. Quinn reached the passenger's side door first. Pulling open the door of the car, he stumbled slightly, reaching forward to catch the woman who had been slumped against the door, unconscious. Lowering her to the ground, he brushed several strands of chestnut brown hair from her face. Blood blossomed from a small cut on the right side of her forehead.
"Professor, Wade, Remy!" He called, scarcely able to hide his astonishment at the woman, no, girl's appearance.
"What is it, my boy?" The Professor came jogging up the small embankment, followed closely behind by Rembrandt and Wade.
"She's just a kid," he stated, moving to pick her up gently.
"My word, she is!" The Professor touched the girl's cheek, tenderly, before he went on. "She's still breathing, and the cut on her forehead is superficial. I don't know how long emergency services on this world take, but if it's as long as on our world I believe it would be better to take her to the hospital ourselves."
Quinn nodded in agreement, moving to carry the unconscious girl down to their rental car.
"Not so fast, Mr. Mallory. Your double is still in need of some help." Throughout the course of events that had recently unfolded, Quinn had not thought twice about the condition of his double. Turning around with the girl in his arms, he watched as the Professor leaned into the driver's side of the car and examined his double. There was a pregnant pause that reigned over the four before Wade suddenly spoke up.
"What's wrong, Professor?"
"It would seem, Miss Wells, that the Quinn of this world is no longer with us."
"You mean-" Rembrandt started.
"Yes, Mr. Brown, he's dead."
"What about the driver of the other car?" Rembrandt questioned, moving to the driver's side door of the opposite car and peering inside.
The windows of the car were tinted, but Rembrandt could see the still outline of a single person in the front seat.
"He's not movin' at all." Rembrandt went to open the car door and was surprised to find it unlocked. The airbag had deployed, pushing the person's body tightly against the seat. Clearing the now deflated air bag from the man's body revealed three large bullet holes in his chest.
"Guys, this man's been shot!" Rembrandt exclaimed, looking over the hood of the car at Wade and the Professor who stood watching him. "What's going on here?"
"I don't know," Wade responded, genuinely baffled, "but I think it has something to do with this." With that, she moved over to Quinn who stood on the slope of the ditch slightly behind them. She picked up the wrist of the unconscious girl that Quinn still carried in his arms. Clasped around the girl's left wrist was a heavy, silver bracelet that carried the jagged words of an engraving etched into the metal.
"Avenie ReneƩ Ellison, Class 3 Government Citizen: Student/Independent. Contact Telicho Transgenics in case of an emergency. Property of U.S. Government until age 18," Wade read, shock seeping into her tone.
"Professor," Quinn spoke up. "You said that her injury wasn't that serious. We can't take the chance of the government catching her if she's wanted. I think she'd be safer in the motel room with us instead of being interrogated about what happened here." He nodded his head in the direction of the murdered driver.
"Whatever you believe is the right thing, Mr. Mallory, we'll support you."
"What are we gonna do about them, Professor?" Remy asked, indicating the lifeless forms that occupied the cars.
"There's not much that we can do, Mr. Brown. We'll call emergency serviced and have them take care of this. You know my reasons for not wanting to get involved."
"So much for not getting involved," Quinn quipped. Wade and Rembrandt scoffed, and the Professor just shook his head.
"Let us no make it worse by lingering here any longer. We must go."
He guided Quinn down the hill as the others trailed behind them. As quickly as they could, they climbed into the rental car and sped away from the accident site; sirens echoed in the distance just minutes behind them.
Sorry if this chapter seemed rushed! Please review!
