Sam stepped up to see by what the women were so horrified. The grizzly black and white image on the screen was self-explanatory. "Good lord," he murmured.
"That's it? 'Good lord'?!"
Sam's mind had already begun analyzing the violent scene. It had taken place in the cafeteria he'd just left. The shooter's face was expressionless. (Drugs,) Sam supposed, although he couldn't be sure due to the camera angle. He was stocky, had some muscle tone, wore hospital scrubs, and was barefoot. The compact automatic weapon in his hands was eerily out of place.
Next Sam studied the victims. He recognized most of them from the cafeteria as well. One he didn't was a feral-looking woman who, despite the holes in her side, was frozen in mid-leap toward the gunman. Several people were down and bleeding: the pouty blonde, who was still standing despite multiple body shots; the new father, shot in the shoulder; the telekinetic who'd carried his wife out of the cafeteria, stomach wound; the big-eared bloke from Manchester; and a few others. Several other had weapons drawn or were arming themsleves, including Daniel, Blaise, Francis, and Ricardo. Sam himself and DCI Hunt were absent.
Sam pointed at he image of the shooter. "Have either of you seen this man?" Both women's heads shook. Frowning, the squinted at a code overlain on the bottom left corner of the video: 20041011081155. "What's that, then?"
Michelle peered at it as well. A moment later she turned toward another montior, which showed another grim scene. A strangely dressed, long-haired man lie on the floor bleeding from a head wound. Sam's hopes that that was a freeze-frame were dashed by the changing code on the bottom left of that screen. 20041019101906, 20041019101907, 20041019101908... "It's a timestamp!" the redhead exclaimed.
"Right," Sam agreed. "Year, month, day, hour, minutes, seconds."
The blonde looked at the image of the shootout, shielding much of it from her eyes with one hand. "So this happened October 11, 2004 at eight in the morning."
"If this is a live feed--" Michelle shuddered at the image of the man's lifeless body "-- today's October 19th."
Sam blinked, astounded. "That only happened eight days ago? Most of the wounded should be in hospital beds, not rummaging around looking for ID!"
Although he was glad that so many of his companions had made miraculous recoveries, the latest round of weirdness was more than Sam could take. He sat heavily in the other rolling chair and buried his face in his hands.
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timeasmymeasure
[Sam Tyler]
Date: 2007-02-28 03:42 pm (UTC)"That's it? 'Good lord'?!"
Sam's mind had already begun analyzing the violent scene. It had taken place in the cafeteria he'd just left. The shooter's face was expressionless. (Drugs,) Sam supposed, although he couldn't be sure due to the camera angle. He was stocky, had some muscle tone, wore hospital scrubs, and was barefoot. The compact automatic weapon in his hands was eerily out of place.
Next Sam studied the victims. He recognized most of them from the cafeteria as well. One he didn't was a feral-looking woman who, despite the holes in her side, was frozen in mid-leap toward the gunman. Several people were down and bleeding: the pouty blonde, who was still standing despite multiple body shots; the new father, shot in the shoulder; the telekinetic who'd carried his wife out of the cafeteria, stomach wound; the big-eared bloke from Manchester; and a few others. Several other had weapons drawn or were arming themsleves, including Daniel, Blaise, Francis, and Ricardo. Sam himself and DCI Hunt were absent.
Sam pointed at he image of the shooter. "Have either of you seen this man?" Both women's heads shook. Frowning, the squinted at a code overlain on the bottom left corner of the video: 20041011081155. "What's that, then?"
Michelle peered at it as well. A moment later she turned toward another montior, which showed another grim scene. A strangely dressed, long-haired man lie on the floor bleeding from a head wound. Sam's hopes that that was a freeze-frame were dashed by the changing code on the bottom left of that screen. 20041019101906, 20041019101907, 20041019101908... "It's a timestamp!" the redhead exclaimed.
"Right," Sam agreed. "Year, month, day, hour, minutes, seconds."
The blonde looked at the image of the shootout, shielding much of it from her eyes with one hand. "So this happened October 11, 2004 at eight in the morning."
"If this is a live feed--" Michelle shuddered at the image of the man's lifeless body "-- today's October 19th."
Sam blinked, astounded. "That only happened eight days ago? Most of the wounded should be in hospital beds, not rummaging around looking for ID!"
Although he was glad that so many of his companions had made miraculous recoveries, the latest round of weirdness was more than Sam could take. He sat heavily in the other rolling chair and buried his face in his hands.