The din suddenly ground to a halt. The officers who had surrounded Clarke didn’t lower their guns at first, but they did trade confused glances with each other. One by one, their guns found their ways back into their holsters, albeit hesitantly. They still maintained their perimeter around the field though, unsure what exactly was going on.

The senior officer took a few steps out from the police cars, silencing them but keeping the megaphone with himself.

“MR. CLARKE?” the officer asked with the megaphone.

“This is a hospital!” Clarke scolded. “People are trying to sleep!”

The officer looked surprised for a moment, then lowered the megaphone, passing it to another officer behind himself. “My name is Lieutenant McLoren. You are Mr. Clarke, are you not?”

“I am,” Clarke responded. “Did you bring the electricians?”

McLoren waved behind himself. A moment later, a pair of men wearing jumpsuits and carrying rusty red toolboxes walked up. They paused for a moment when the saw Clarke guarding the generator, but McLoren encouraged them on. The two men approached the generator, not daring to get in Clarke’s way.

“Um… we’ll take it from here…” one of the electricians said.

“It’s all yours,” Clarke said, stepping away. As soon as he was five feet away from the generator, it broke down in seconds. The front panel became unhinged, rust gathered over everything, and a few sparks flew out, causing the two men to jump. Clarke heard them complain about how much harder this job would be now, but paid them no mind. He walked to the police line, determined to push through and get some food.

However, when he approached McLoren, a small squad of police officers stood in his way. Two of them looked like they were fresh out of the academy, but the gaze from the tall one in the middle clearly showed some experience behind them. He glared down at Clarke with an unearned superiority.

“Stop right there!” the tall officer ordered. He pointed to the dead thugs in the field. “What happened to those two people?”

“They were going to hassle the hospital staff and rob them,” Clarke said simply. “So I killed them.”

“You what?!” one of the rookies asked.

The tall officer puffed out his chest and pulled a pair of handcuffs from his belt. “You’ve just confessed to murder. I’ll have to take you in for questioning. Put your hands behind your back.”

“Collins, what are you doing?!” McLoren asked.

Clarke stared at Collins with the same unchanging, bored expression. He was about to continue on his way, until Collins made the mistake of grabbing Clarke by the shoulder and trying to force him down.

“Someone give me a hand here!” Collins cried as he struggled to budge Clarke even an inch.