Beltane

by Thea Hartsong

  Chapter 11. A bid for freedom

  He was waiting. The excitement was almost too much to contain. He’d waited for this day to come for what seemed like an eternity. Patience…He must be patient. Only through patience would he finally achieve his goal. He’d learned that the hard way. He should have had more sense than to react when he saw the girl. It was such a shock though, such a shock. He’d known her the moment he’d seen her, in spite of the tranquilizers they filled him with each day.

  He’d been clever there, pretending to be more drugged than he really was, building up his immunity, so that eventually he was almost able to function normally on them…. almost.

  He looked around the room, noting its sparse furniture and bare walls, mentally bidding it farewell. No, don’t do that….don’t count your chickens before they’re hatched. It would all depend, it would all depend on Miller. Was he really pinning all his hopes on a man whose grip on reality was quite so loose?

  Poor mad Miller next door, whose one purpose in life was to care for a mouse he had hidden in a nest of newspaper in the back of his wardrobe. It was the mouse that had given him the idea. He’d spent weeks collecting scraps of food and giving them to Miller. Making a friend and building credit, building credit so that one day he could ask for a favor. That favor was to be given tonight.

  The key turned in the lock. He scrambled into his bed and sat ready nerves jangling. The door opened and there he was as always his massive form filling the doorway, shoulders barely fitting between the frame. He waddled slowly towards the bed like a walking mountain…. would it work?

  He barely dared to hope. The pills were there. He took them, put them in his mouth, showed his empty hand, and then opened his mouth. This was the tricky part, the pills nestled between his teeth and his lip unswallowed.

  The moon face gazed at him, there was no tensing of muscles, no grabbing of wrists… nothing happened. The first step was taken. The second came immediately afterwards. There was the sound of shouting and banging. The door to the room thudded open, and Bingham the male nurse with the wart on his nose pushed his way in.

  “Hey Lechkov, gimme a hand out here! I’ve got some trouble”

  The big man reacted at once. There was a man who was always happy to find trouble. He could hear Miller out in the corridor yelling and singing at the top of his voice. He was doing a brilliant job. Bingham and Lechkov had left and the key hadn’t turned in his lock. He had hoped they would be too busy to bother with it right away.

  Climbing from the bed he reached under it and pulled out his overcoat, and a small rucksack. He pulled the coat around his shoulders shucked the bag onto back and tiptoed towards the door. Pressing his ear against it he heard the sounds of Miller being dragged into his room. He would only have a few seconds.

  He pulled the door open a crack and peeked out. All clear. In an instant he was in the corridor, and moving quickly towards the rear of the house. Passing through the darkened day room, he stopped. A pile of magazines and newspapers made the perfect material for his purposes. Pulling a box of matches from his pocket he struck one and placed it under a page of newsprint which swiftly leaped into flames.

  He pulled open the window and a breeze came in, fanning the flames even further. As he jumped the few feet to the ground a fire alarm sounded with a raucous clanging.

  Not bothering to look around he scurried through the bushes and then broke across the lawn running as fast as he could towards the road. It would only be a matter of time before Lechkov figured it out. The big man might look dim, but he was certainly not stupid.

  Breaking out of the trees and onto the road he saw the lights of a car heading towards Ringburg…. he had to at least try. Stepping into the road he waved his arms at the approaching vehicle. He could say he’d broken down further back, needed a ride to town…then a train to London. The car was slowing. His luck was holding. It pulled up next to him; the windows were smoked glass blocking his view of the driver.

  Pulling open the front passenger door he dropped into the seat letting out a sigh of relief. At least this way he was already in the car, it would be harder to refuse him a ride.

  He turned in his seat to address the driver, and sucked in a horrified breath.