by Taki Drake
At the loosening of harsh discipline, his body reacted in a flash. Vomit burned hot and heavy, erupting from Alastair’s mouth and spewing into the air, releasing a cloud of sour gas and noxious gruel from his mouth and through his nose. It burned coming up, but flew outward, landing mostly on Polemos. Collapsing in apparent semiconsciousness, Alastair had to hide a smile.
The Director turned to address one of the cameras, “Take him to the infirmary. The drugs have had an unpleasant effect on him.”
It was clear that Polemos was revolted by Alastair’s physical response, as well as surprised by it. Alastair had counted on that reaction to provide him strategic cover. He was really sick, but not so ill that he wouldn’t be able to find an escape route. After talking to the man in charge, Alastair wanted a shower to wash away the disgusting scent of destruction and ash the man left behind. That shower was going to have to wait until the former soldier had figured out how to break free, but when he could, there was going to be a severe water shortage in the area!
If Alastair hadn’t wanted to frustrate the Director and provide a needed break in supervision, he might have been able to hold his body under control. Unfortunately, something like illness was the only way that a man such as Polemos would accept a delay in commitment.
The door clanged behind Polemos as the frustrated man left the room. The sound echoed in his wake like the clanging of the cell door or a heavily reinforced cage. It didn’t make Alastair feel any better, but at least he had reclaimed a small measure of control, and he planned on taking advantage of it.
Once the director was out of the room, several people arrived with both cleaning supplies and mobile restraints. This wouldn’t be his moment for an escape. For a group that talked about unity and protecting people, this group treated people like test subjects, less than human. This group and this place were nothing that Alastair wanted in his life. If they treated people they wanted in their group like this, what would they do to the Supernaturals? Alastair didn’t want to even think about it.
Once most of the vomit was removed, the men with the keys and replacement restraints moved towards Alastair. One of the men had a welt under his left eye. He must be one of the soldiers Alastair had clocked when they tried to subdue him. Showing that he had learned caution, the man moved gingerly around Alastair.
Alastair remained calm and tried to project a docile nature that was an illusion. Even though he was angry and disgusted with this place and the people, he did his best to conceal both his feelings and his actual ability to move. He wanted nothing to do with these people or their beliefs but knew that the best way he had of getting loose was to make them underestimate him.
This wasn’t the place to make his move. The people cleaning him up and to the infirmary were hyperaware, watching his every breath and movement. They were poised for instant response, and Alastair knew that he would not have enough time to react if he made his move now.
Right now, there was just too much that was unknown. Alastair had no idea where he was and how far away an exit might be. He also didn’t know where he was geographically.
Anything he did right now would mean escalated violence. There had been too much of that today, not only for Alastair but everybody concerned. The battered and nauseated man hoped that there would be no more conflict in his day. Instead, he would focus on escape.
It seemed that the world had turned to savagery and the culture of attacking anyone who disagreed or got in the way of achieving an objective. Alastair vowed to himself that he would not contribute any more to that type of conflict today. If possible, Alastair wanted to find a place that allowed him to live in peace and acceptance. He was not a praying man, but he wished that he could locate that sort of refuge, and soon.
Chapter 18 – Relocation
One of the soldiers that had been cleaning up Alastair’s illness lifted him out of the chair in which he had been restrained and fastened him with new cuffs. Hoisted to his feet, there was no need for the former soldier to pretend to be weak and groggy.
Unsteady on his own two feet, it took several of the soldiers to support him upright. Outside of the room, they dragged him through a maze of corridors. Alastair did his best to remember the path they took, but the featureless hallways made that difficult, especially in his nauseous state. Only once did they pass a window that let him orientate himself to a way out, but he was quickly lost again.
In the infirmary, his escort dropped him onto a bed, releasing him in relief. His restraints were fastened to the bed, and the soldiers quickly left the room. A man dressed in scrubs looked him over. Recognizing the signs of dehydration due to nausea and drug reaction, the medic put an IV into Alastair’s arm and quickly left.
For the most part, Alastair was left alone. A guard stood sentry duty out in the hallway. Since that was the only exit from the room, it probably appeared to be a more than an adequate precaution.
The room itself was sizable. It had room for two gurneys, a small amount of medical equipment and it was stocked with medical supplies.
There was no window in the chamber which was disappointing to Alastair. That would have been the best option for escape but, lacking that, he would have to come up with another way out. The restraints are the first thing he had to address. A swift glance at the medical set up told him that getting free of the cuffs was going to be the easy part.
Depressing the button on the side of the bed, Alastair maneuvered the cuff over the newly released open end of the side rail. Luckily for him, most soldiers weren’t familiar with the operation of emergency room gurneys. It was a matter of just a moment or two to free both hands, leaving the cuffs as outrageous-looking bracelets around each wrist.
Next, he stood up. The bed was too short for his long body, and his legs had already hung over the edge. Most beds weren’t big enough for him, which is uncomfortable. In this case, it worked to his advantage.
The room had a dropped ceiling, as did most of the building. Staring at the ceiling, Alastair decided that this may very well be his ticket out of this hellhole. As carefully as possible, the large man stood up on the middle surface of the bed. It allowed him to reach the ceiling and remove a few of the tiles. Dust bunnies fell onto him as he did, along with a spider that he brushed off his shoulder. Apparently, there is no regular maintenance on the drop ceiling.
There wasn’t much room inside the ceiling space, and Alastair only had a vague idea of where he needed to go. He spotted the large air duct a distance away that a compound this size required. In his room, there wasn’t a way in, but there appeared to be one a few chambers away. That was his best bet to get out of here. By traveling to a different place and then staging his escape, he hoped to throw his jailers off the scent.
Without hesitating, he pulled himself up and replaced the ceiling tiles to conceal how he had left the room. Anything he could do to delay pursuit would be advantageous. Knowing that the ceiling wasn’t made for a man his size or weight might make them ignore it until he had enough time to escape.
He had to be careful. Each movement, every action had to be considered. The drop ceiling wasn’t designed to support something of his weight, and it groaned softly underneath him every time he moved either too quickly or injudiciously. Luckily, the vent he wanted to use wasn’t that far away.
Reaching the area of the ceiling that opened into the room containing the vent to the outside, Alastair poked his head in and saw that the room was empty. He dropped to the floor and went to work opening the large vent. He knew that it would be a tight fit since his large body would pretty much fill the entire conduit. Without the proper tools, Alastair was under a severe handicap.
Carefully scavenging a scraper from the room, he used it to work on loosening the vent. The process was painstakingly slow for him. His body sweated as he worked, the moisture in his body soaking his clothing and dripping down to the floor. He was stressed, but even more, it was hot in the building, and the vent was pumping in even more heat. Soon, Alastair
was totally drenched.
The gate on the vent clattered as he removed it. Alastair cringed at the sound, freezing in place with the fear that he had been heard. When a couple minutes had passed, and no one showed up, he relaxed slightly, reassured that he had not been heard. With a long exhalation, Alastair entered the sweatbox of a vent and started his crawl to freedom.
It was a torturous trip. These vents weren’t made for people to wiggle through, at least not bodies of his size. His robust physique didn’t leave him much wiggle room. Concentrating, Alastair closed his eyes and tried to remember the direction of the exit.
It was to his right, of that much he was sure. Alastair moved forward determinedly, always making sure he kept to that direction. It was ten minutes before the desperate man was sure he was heading in the correct direction and even longer before he came to the point that he thought was the way out.
It had gotten noisier, with a reverberating hum that rattled his bones and a high-pitched whine that made him want to dig his fingers into his ears. There was a massive fan that seemed to be sucking air in from the outside, and he could feel the coolness of that flow.
If Alastair looked closely, dimly lighted scenery indicated the outdoors. He had found the correct spot, and now only needed to stop the fan. Luckily, this part of the vent had increased in size. It allowed him to move more freely and had been part of the reason that he had to come in this direction. The fans needed more maintenance than the actual vents, and more maintenance meant regular visitors. When the vent had gotten larger, he knew that this was the right direction.
He still had to crouch, but it was enough to let him see and explore more effectively. Alastair didn’t know much about airflow systems but was sure if he just broke it his pursuers would realize it was the way that he had come. He needed a way to conceal or delay that discovery.
His hands rubbed the walls of the vent, and he found what appeared to be a switch. Taking a deep breath, Alastair pressed the rocker. The relief he felt when the fan blades slowed made him momentarily lightheaded. It was painful to watch them slowly come to a stop since Alastair was almost consumed by a desperate desire to be out of this building immediately.
Once the fan had stopped its rotation, Alastair wriggled out into the concealing night. He could see now that the compound was not in the city. From the scenery, it was located in the middle of nowhere.
The moon hung like a filtered lantern pinned motionlessly in the sky. The compound itself had only a few lights, making it was hard to discover and safe from unfriendly eyes.
Alastair smiled. They wanted to remain hidden, and that would allow him a chance to get away free. Hugging the wall to avoid being seen, Alastair moved around the compound until he reached a point that was closest to the dense part of the forest.
Once there, he made a rapid dash for the cover of the trees, but before he could gain that concealing cover, strident alarms ripped through the quiet of the night. A voice blared out of concealed loudspeakers alerting the entire compound.
“Recruit has escaped,” echoed from everywhere. Immediately, a spotlight was turned on and began to scan the grounds.
Alastair did his best to avoid being caught in the light, but the efficient coverage of the search patterns defeated him. One of the spotlights found him just as he entered the woods. Damn, he thought to himself.
“He’s in the southwest,” a soldier announced on the speaker.
Alastair ran as quickly as he could. He knew that the key to getting away from a force like this was to put as much distance between them and him as possible before hiding. If the fleeing man could just find a secure place, he could hunker down and wait out their search patterns. They would be unable to continue searching without the concealing cover of nightfall so he could attempt to escape farther during the day.
The former soldier moved with a speed that even the fleetest of people would envy, but it wasn’t enough. Behind him, Alastair could hear the soldiers gathering and beginning to track him.
Yet, he wouldn’t give up, refusing to be part of this travesty. Alastair had made his choice, and now those that would deny him that choice would chase him until either he was back under their control or dead.
Chapter 19 – Team Building
It had been a horrendous day of emotional and physical trauma. His stressful shift had led to a short break before two physical encounters had worn his body down. The drugs with which they had attacked him had further drained his stamina and strength. Alastair could hear the voices of the capture party behind him, but he was unable to increase the distance between them and him. His fatigue was considerable, and the drugs that they had applied to him had not worn off.
Alastair could feel his body starting to give out. Gasping for air and chilled to the bone, he stopped and rested his back against a large tree. The fleeing man was beginning to fear that he would not get away but refused to give in to despair. Too many times in his life he had found that it was possible to work through the fear, push through the discouragement. They would not win, and he would not give up.
Just then Alastair saw a tiny shack in the distance. He knew that he hadn’t gotten far enough ahead of his pursuers to stop, but it might have useful supplies or even something to help combat the cold. In an even better situation, there might be a local living there that didn’t like the Department.
Dredging up energy from the shallow depths of some depleted reservoir, Alastair sprinted to the shack. It didn’t look encouraging, totally dark and closed up. Looking around, he didn’t see any soldiers, and he couldn’t hear any sound. He was almost certain that he was alone, so he took a chance and knocked.
Keeping his voice low, Alastair asked, “Hello? Is there anyone home?”
There was no answer. He knocked again and waited as his heart raced and his body shivered uncontrollably. He had been running through the woods in winter without the correct gear and with sweat saturating his clothing. In danger of hypothermia, Alastair desperately needed shelter.
“I’ve got no choice,” he said to himself.
Turning the knob, he tried the door which opened to his touch. With one last look over his shoulder, Alastair decided that this was his best choice. Taking a deep breath, he entered the door and carefully closed it.
Finding himself in a gray hallway, he saw another doorway only a few feet away, and he took the three steps necessary to get there. There was warmth and light through the portal, and his body craved it. Thinking that it had to be an improvement on where he was coming from, Alastair took that next step.
And found himself in a bar.
<<<>>>
Lost in a sea of memory, the faint smile on Alastair’s face told Madrik that his head bouncer was reliving his entry into the BHB. In a day filled with preparation for the Grand Opening, the connection everyone had made with the sentient building called the Badger Hole Bar was worthy of acknowledgment.
Once again, Madrik was reminded of how blessed and fortunate he was to have the team that he did. Although the Storyteller had told him that the purpose of the BHB was to solve problems, he had not put it together before this point that the core team here at the bar needed to be problem solvers in themselves.
Knowing that everyone here had a purpose made Madrik feel better. It meant that he was not alone and that warmed his heart. The flood of emotion and caring that came across his companion bond was enough to remind him that even if no one else was here, that he would never be alone.
Just for a moment, Madrik relaxed into that mental embrace. Not even six weeks before he had wondered how he would ever find purpose in life again. Now here he was, busy and contented in that activity, feeling like he could do some good in this universe, where before everything was dark, dreary, and dismal. I guess this means that I need to shake that old man’s hand when I meet him again. But not until I kick him in the ass for pushing me down the hole, Madrik said to himself.
Thinking about the critical position that Alastair had on his team, Ma
drik considered how the man had proved to be such an incredibly useful person to have. He was the sort of employee that every bar manager would give their right arm for, someone who could read the tension in the room and diffuse potentially damaging and disruptive situations.
The man was not jovial, although he always had a pleasant look on his face. He cheerfully pitched in on whatever needed to be accomplished and maintained his good temper in the case of deliberate provocation. Madrik remembered that right after Alastair had come into the bar that Brechal had tried to make him lose his temper. The rest of them found it very amusing to watch as Alastair’s slippery, cheerful attitude made it impossible for Brechal to manipulate him.
It was instructive for Madrik to see how effortlessly the big man kept his serenity. He knew that type of skill was hard won, forged in a fire hotter than any they had at the bar. Sometime in the future, he hoped he would learn more about Alastair. But that was up to the man, and Madrik didn’t think that it was his place to push him.
Just like with Brechal, Madrik knew he could depend on Alastair. The skill set was different between the two men, but their connection to the team was equally strong. The bar manager realized that Alastair was more willing to explore while Brechal tended to hunker down. Madrik didn’t know why they were different, but he accepted and valued what each one brought.
Madrik knew that it could have been a challenging situation with all of the staff living above the bar. However, the BHB had created an environment that gave everybody their own privacy. The ability to modify their quarters to fit their personal desires was another significant benefit.
It gave Madrik a haven when just interacting with people was too much. This was most needed on his dark days when the echo of his daughter’s laughter threatened to drop tears to ease the aching burn of his eyes. Then, he had a place to go and be quiet, a refuge from the hurt of loss.