He didn’t remember ever being this cold, and the flurry of snow only blew in his face. Zane’s thick hair transformed into an icy helmet that sat on his head, already freezing.
“Stop being a big baby.” Roach dared to actually laugh at him. “I’m pretty sure I’ve made you warm.”
“Clearly not enough,” Zane shouted back, hugging himself as he braved the weather and ran at full speed, straight toward the welcoming windows of the diner, which on this gray, dark morning seemed like the embodiment of comfort. He’d get pancakes. And the hottest coffee on offer. No creamer.
He still shivered when he ran into the diner, and he wanted to relax into the warmth, but Roach was right behind him and opened the door, letting in yet more freezing air.
“Is he here?” Roach asked, rubbing his hands together and finally shutting the door to the icescape they left behind.
And how was Zane to know? He’d only seen John’s avatar—a big eye staring from a triangular screen—and they’d had a brief conversation yesterday, but that had told him nothing about the guy’s appearance other than the fact that he was male.
Fortunately, a hand rose in a nearby booth, and he grinned at the stranger sitting there over a cup of coffee. The guy’s bald head shone as if he polished it every day, and the Aviators he wore covered half his face, making his age difficult to estimate.
As soon as he and Roach sat down and ordered coffee, John spoke. “Good spot. Trucker stop, many random faces.”
Zane nodded as if he’d chosen the diner for that reason, not because it was right on their doorstep.
“I don’t like drawing attention to myself,” he lied, still overwhelmed by the difference in temperature between the diner and the miserable weather outside.
“So what have you figured out?” Roach asked, because Zane had filled him in on the online conversations while they were getting dressed.
John looked around. “You sure you weren’t followed?”
Zane stared back at him, mentally rolling his eyes, but he’d met enough nut jobs in his life to know they weren’t all incompetent in their field of work. “Absolutely certain. This place is safe.”
John pulled a large folder out of his suitcase and presented Zane and Roach with crude drawings mapping the human body with several spots, including the face, highlighted with bright yellow.
“So what must have happened is that you’re clones. But they never let out more than one, at a time, and as a result no one ever knows that they’re a clone. Sometimes, they let out one in Japan, but the other in Kuwait, and they never meet. But there must have been some kind of glitch with you two, or maybe you’ve even escaped their facility, but don’t know, because your memory is wiped. You might not even be each other’s clones, but a result of experiments on the connection between the brain and the nervous system.”
What.
What?
What?! He’d come here from their cozy room for this bullshit?
Zane was on the verge of screaming, but Wanda, the head server came over with hot coffee, so he relaxed and put his hands around the mug, painfully aware of Roach’s silence.
“We look nothing alike.”
John shook his head. “Of course they’d put new skins on you.”
Roach gave Zane a long look that spoke volumes. “Wow. That is so interesting. I’ve gotta go to work, but tell Zane all about it, and I’ll know, since we also have this bit of a brain connection too.”
“What about pancakes?” Zane asked and squeezed Roach’s thigh under the table.
“Yeah, sure, have some.” Roach pulled out his wallet and gave Zane a bank note, but got up, taking his body heat with him. The traitor!
Why was the world punishing Zane again?
He glared at John, who had some kind of file under the table and was looking through its contents conspicuously. Zane wondered whether he wanted to have breakfast at all in this kind of company.
“Can clones be gay for each other?”
John stilled, but then, with a serious expression, took off his glasses and glanced at him with a watery brown gaze. “It’s funny you should ask, because I met my clone. I won’t lie, there was a strange feeling there, and I never go that way otherwise.”
Roach patted Zane’s shoulder, and walked off, eager to stuff his greedy pockets with more cash. What did he even do with it? For all Zane knew, it went toward booze.
Chapter 17 – Roach
Culver didn’t like to spend money where he didn’t have to, so he wouldn’t take his van to the garage if he could have Roach look at it first for much cheaper than a professional mechanic would have charged him. It would have been fine if it wasn’t for the fact that Roach had technically finished work over an hour ago, and he wouldn’t be getting paid extra. Was getting a bit of time off with his boyfriend such a big thing to ask?