Greg could have used the moment  as a moment of misunderstanding and played a part of someone in authority, would that have persuaded the other fellow to help him? ... Who knows?

Should he call for an ambulance? What if the creature dies? It hardly was hit hard at all, or had it? Greg does not know; it may simply just have passed out from consuming Greg's beers. It drank his beer! Quite likely it has simply passed out though that stranger a moment ago was sure he had hit the creature with his car. Greg chooses to wait, and he soon has reason to worry when a helicopter soon begins to hover over the area with lighting in operation as if it is searching for something.

A wheelbarrow is what is used for transportation, and once the animal is laid on the couch within Greg's home to rest, what else is there to do but sit across the room from it and ... wait? Morning comes and Greg is woken by the sound of his home landline phone ringing out, indeed, he wakes, but with a startle. He makes his way to it without thought.

'Greg ...'

'Kathleen? ...'

'Listen to me very carefully and answer me truthfully. Where is he?'

'Who, Simon? ...' his natural instinct is to refer to his brother as, of course, for as long as he has known her, Greg has associated Kathleen with Simon. '... the same place he has been all week ...'

'No, Greg, you are not listening to me. Remember, I need you to be truthful. Now, tell me where he is?'

'I don't know who you are talking about Kathleen ...'

'He's at your house, isn't he? Don't tell me that you are this stupid? I could have had security raid your home, but I didn't, and I won't.'

This is where the night before hits Greg like a brick to the face. He had actually forgotten momentarily. Is she talking about that creature? Surely not.

'Ehm ...'

'Stay there, do not go anywhere, do not talk to anyone ...' and the phone line clicks to a disconnected tone.

'Hello ... hello ... Kathleen?'

It's useless, she is gone, and she is not the only one either. There is no sign of the animal Greg had taken into his home. What the heck is going on? Running on instinct, and without taking any real time to take in any of what has been going on, Greg makes his way to Simon's bedside.

Simon is a wake and conscious.

'What are you doing here? ... It's not safe' he says, clearly shocking by Greg's arrival.

'What? Can a guy not come see his brother?'

'No, ... you can't ... not now.'

'And why not?'

'Greg, tell me he is safe.'

Oh no, 'tell you who is safe, Simon? Brother, what the hell is going on? That explosion which put you here, it was an accident, wasn't it?'

Simon's lack of an immediate answer is an answer in itself.

'My brother, you need to find Sartorius ...'

'Sar what? What the hell is a Sartorius?'

'He is not a what, he is a who, and he is glorious. An experiment I can no longer stand by ...'

How is anyone to feel about all of this, Greg has no idea, and if he were to attempt to describe how it is he does feel, well, he'd be at a loss to put it into words.

'... They ... well, ... we ... we created him, for experimental purposes. He was created in order to test him and others both like and unlike him ... all in the name of the quest to improve humanity. He is a combination of a number of species. His DNA carefully chosen so that he can be tested for certain things. His bones have been broken, to see how he heals. His bloods have been tested and treated. The ultimate exam is due for next week. Sartorius is to be injected with a super-flu virus to see if he can create antibodies to defend against it. If he can, such anti-bodies will go forward to be potential cures for Humanity against such a Super-flu outbreak. I can't let them do it brother ... they'll kill him and it's not right.'

'Brother, what are you telling me?'

'I had to act quickly; I caused the explosion which put me here ...'

'Why would you do that?'

'To create a diversion, don't you see? I'm sorry you are being dragged into all this. There are so few people I trust. I knew once I got Sartorius to you, you would do right by him.'

'Why haven't you told me any of this before?'

'I couldn't. I'm forbidden to speak of my work outside of the workplace, and the escape, well ... that was all on the fly, I had to act. I couldn't allow the plans to move forwards ... Where is Sartorius now? No wait ... don't tell me. The less I know about his location, the less I will say. I'm sure to face interrogation soon enough ...'

'Interrogation? Simon, this is serious.'

'... You're telling me ... I know already.'

Simon sees, in this moment, that Greg is staring a hole into the floor and realizes why this may be.

'You don't know where he is, do you? Have you even met him yet?'

'I have, well ... kinda.'

'Kinda? Oh man, this is bad.'

There is some sort of a fuss being made down the hospital hall a way. And Simon can't help but believe the worst.

'Oh no ...'

'What now?' asks Greg.

'They're here ...'

'Who are here?'

'Greg, you gotta go. Please, find Sartorius. Keep him safe. Listen to the music Greg, Listen to the music.'

Greg looks his brother in the eyes.

'Go on, go ... quickly.'

He does what is asked. Outside the hospital room and down the hall a little, there is a bit of a may lay. Three or four people, official types who belong to some sort of government agency of which no one knows anything about ..., are arguing with hospital staff and one of these people is Kathleen, ... she, being the former partner of Greg's hospitalised brother. And she is unlikely looking for an update on the condition of said brother.

She, Kathleen, looks up and sees Greg coming out of Simon's room and of course, Greg sees her. He has to get out of the hospital as quickly as possible, and from this moment on, he wastes little time in doing so. All of a sudden, Greg feels as if he is some sort of official or spy belonging to some sort of off the book's kind of organisation, especially when he moves beyond a pair of fire escape doors and hurriedly down many concrete steps.

All these official or unofficial fears are further compounded the instant Greg does exit the hospital, as an expensive looking dark car, the kind which may or may not belong to such an organisation, pulls up just feet in front of him. He comes to a stop and stares at this vehicle for a moment. The rear door closet to him opens and a voice instructs him to ... 'get in', which he does after a few seconds of hesitation. He is being chased after all, or at least he believes he is being chased.

Once inside the vehicle, with a door which apparently closes itself, all doors immediately lock. Further intensification insures when Greg sees that he is alone with a very official looking driver who at no point says a word to Greg, even in acknowledgement of his presence. Yeah, the driver looks very ... official, in an unofficial way and surely is capable of handling himself in any situation which may present itself. Was it even him who instructed Greg to get into the vehicle?

'Who are you? Where are we going? ...'

A glass petition begins to rise and soon leaves Greg feeling isolated. This partition is tinted and possibly bullet proof as the rest of the car so happens to luck. This is all a bit ... much ... isn't it? Greg has never felt so alone in all his life as he does now, despite the fact he lives alone. He always did have access to others though in this moment ... it is just him and only him.

A journey takes approximately thirty minutes, and Greg has no idea as to where the destination may be. And guess what? The location he does arrive at also has official unofficial vibes. Once at that halted position, the vehicle door with which allowed Greg into the car, unlocks and opens. He supposes, correctly by the way, that this means he should get out.

Before him stands a large stone building, some sort of center, possibly registered as something it most likely isn't. A secondary as it so happens to be. Right away three people exit that building and approach to greet Greg, or at least he is hoping to be greeted though anything is possible. Two heavies, men in black suits, no way ... Men in Black, Greg is seriously childish in his own way, headed by a familiar lady, none other than Kathleen herself.

'Am I in trouble here?' Greg asks, feeling more than a kittle stand-off-ish.

'No, not at all, ... should you be?'

'I mean, ... I won't be harmed here, will I?'

'Relax ...' Katleen instructs her ... guest, with a smile and resisting the urge to let out a laugh. 'We are just gonna give you a brief tour, if that is alright with you?'

'Se ... sa ... sure', his fingers tangle like tentacles reaching for one another.

He is soon led to a medical ward, a children's medical ward, and into the room of a bald-headed child who has a clear tube leading into the right nostril of her nose. She is sitting up in a bed, in a medical gown, holding onto a toy panda.

'Hi ...' he says to her not knowing what else to say or do, and he receives a 'hi' back.

'This here is Millie ...' speaks Kathleen, her own demeanour having changed, becoming something quite ... pleasant. 'She has a rare form of leukaemia. Traditional treatments have no effect on her, well, none which are positive.'

She gently squeezes the child's hand then moves on, suggesting that she wants Greg to follow. She leads him into another room where an elderly lady lays in another bed.

'This here is Jessie ...' she then briefly greets the lady before her and returns her attention to Greg. 'She also has a condition, one the details of which you do not need to know. Safe to say there currently is no treatment.' She begins to move away from the lady. 'All we can do right now is make her feel comfortable. 'Come ... there is plenty more to see.'

'Why are you showing me all this?'

'Look Greg. The work we do or were doing may not seem traditional, but it is vital. Believe it or not, we care about all life. When it comes to it, Humanity comes first. Yes ... we do experiment ... a lot of it, you can say is not very nice, though if it can help just one Millie, just one Jessie ... isn't it worth it?'

'That's not for me to say, but who am I? I am just some lowly peasant.'

'Greg, your won brother is in hospital and to be honest. He is hurt, I don't mean to upset you ... it is possible he might not make it. Before you accuse me, he did it to himself? I had nothing to do with the explosion which out him where he is. In fact, he did ...'

'Are you trying to say he ...'

'I'm not trying to say anything. The explosion was meant as a distraction so he could free Sartorius. Greg, we need our unusual friend back.'

'I highly doubt he sees you as a friend.'

'You'd be surprised ...'

'Well, I don't know where he is.'

'I believe you. And I believe you have seen enough. I'm sure you will do the right thing if and when the time comes. We'll have a driver bring you home.'

Katleen smiles a soft and sincere smile, and it is time for her to go back to business.

'If you will, sir' speaks one of the Men in Black as he indicates as to where he would like Greg to move to.

Greg does as he is instructed, and he is returned home. He watches the vehicle which brought him home head away then goes inside. And inside his living room, passed out on the couch is a visitor, a creature kind of visitor. Around this individual are seven empty beer cans.

'Sartorius ... you came back buddy, huh?'

So ... with this having presented itself, what is Greg to do? Before even considering this, there nis another consideration to be made. Does Kathleen know that Sartorius is here? ...