Clarke sighed into a spoonful of soup. “There was one of our group, a larger man named Carl. He had this deep belly laugh and a thick beard. If he dyed his hair white, he would have made a good Santa Claus. We had a clique at work and he was always in good spirits, even when a shaft collapsed on us one day and all six of us had to crowd around me as I made our way out. He laughed in the face of danger and kept everyone’s spirits up. Then, one day, he was sent to work in a newer shaft away from the rest of us. The shaft collapsed. Carl didn’t make it out. I would have gone down to save him, but it was a total collapse. Carl was crushed and had been dead for several minutes by the time I found out about it.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that!” Chloe said.

“Actually, I had been expecting it. Mining was dangerous and it was bound to happen.”

“But that can’t make your friend’s death any easier! I see a lot of people watch family members die. It never gets easier to deal with.”

“That’s not actually true,” Clarke corrected. “When you live for three hundred years, you expect to outlive everyone you know. Friends die, family die, loved ones die. When you come to expect it, you learn how to cope. Yes, I mourned Carl’s death, but then I went home, had dinner, went to bed and came back the next day. Life goes on.”

Chloe frowned, pushing her dinner away. “You know, some people might think it’s cruel of you to say something like that.”

“Perhaps,” Clarke said. “But I bet those same people didn’t have to sit next to a cold bed while their own son died of old age.”

Chloe’s eyes went wide for a moment, then settled into a sad frown. She took a sip of her tea and sighed. “Why don’t we change the subject? You said you used to be a doctor?”

Despite the differences and the changes that were going on all around him, Clarke was actually starting to enjoy himself. He had been wandering, doing random acts of good and hunting down all the evil that he could find. But now, he had a chance to start really living for himself again.

As he lay in the on call room, Clarke would wonder about his future. Each night, right before he drifted off to sleep, he wondered what Chloe would think of him staying longer.

XXXXXXXX

“That’s it,” Clarke said, walking into the hospital late one night. “I’m done.”

“Done?” Chloe asked, picking up a new chart from the front desk. “Done with what?”

“Did something happen?” Clarence asked, walking in with his new gray jumpsuit.

“I believe so,” Clarke said, giving the two of them a tired smile. “I can’t find a hint or hair of any more gangs. Either they’ve all been killed, or they’ve run away and have gone into hiding somewhere else.”