Rhescue

by Drew Herdman

CHAPTER 12.

  ESCAPE.

  It was dark in the cell. Rex could see the grey walls, dimly illuminated by the light of a fitful moon, shining in through the small barred window. He lay on the bed, and relaxed completely. His mind became very calm, as he put himself into a trance. He was gathering all his massive strength.

  He had seen the prison staff going home at the end of the day, and he knew that this left only the night warders in the prison. All was quiet. The other prisoners were asleep, and even the guard at the end of the corridor was nodding over a book. Far away he could hear the sound of a distant dog, as it howled at the moon flitting between hazy clouds.

  He smiled as he felt the power in his body growing. He felt the strength flowing into his arms. When he he stood up, he felt as though he was as light as air. Walking to the bars of his cell, which reached from floor to ceiling, he looked along the corridor. By now the warder was fast asleep, and his book had slipped to the floor.

  Rex's massive hands gripped the bars, and he gradually increased the pressure to pull them apart. At first nothing seemed to happen, but soon the bars started to move. They had been set there many many years ago, and the cement had become brittle. Sweat formed on his face, until drops ran down and were lost in his beard. His eyes closed with the effort he was making, and he had to bite his lip, as the pain came into his straining muscles.

  Eventually he could feel the bars parting enough to let his huge body squeeze through. With a gasp, he let go of the bars, and stood there shaking with reaction. There had been no noise, and the warder slept on. Rex slid one foot through the gap, eased his body in, and stuck. He struggled and writhed until he slid through, then silently lifted his other foot through the gap.

  So far so good. He crept on noiseless feet. His shoes now in his hand. Still the warder slept. A massive hand reached out, and the fingers covered his nose and mouth. As the fingers closed, the warder’s eyes popped open, but no sound escaped. Seconds later the warder passed out. He was gagged with his own handkerchief, tied in place with his tie. He was securely trussed up with his belt, and left lying huddled in a corner, as Rex took the keys from the desk. He laughed inside, because he knew that the jail was now easy to escape from. He picked three pairs of handcuffs from a rack, and put them in his pocket. His plans were laid.

  Just a few steps to the main door, open it a crack and look outside, all clear, on with his shoes, and away into the night.

  'Now to get those brats.' he thought. Revenge filled his mind. In fact that was all he was thinking about, as he rounded a corner, and walked straight into someone coming the other way. This was no way to be caught, and so he jabbed with a huge fist into the face of the other person.

  Charlie had decided to return to Castletown to make sure that Rex was secure. He didn't trust the ability of the police to keep Rex safe. Alas for him, he had left it too late A few minutes earlier, and he would have been able to raise the alarm as Rex escaped. But no, it was he who turned the corner and walked straight into Rex's fist.

  A pair of cuffs went click click onto Charlie's wrists. Rex picked him up as though he was a feather, and slung him over a shoulder.

  In the car park, he broke into the warder's car, and soon had it running. He put Charlie in the passenger seat, and drove quietly off.

  Driving carefully, so as not to draw attention, should anyone still be around, he made his way to Port Erin, and down to the harbour. He had already decided which boat to steal. A motor boat that would take him across to Ireland, where he could lose himself. He badly wanted to get the twins as well, but time had run out. There was only just enough water in the harbour to get the boat out.

  He untied the mooring ropes. The engine started first time, and he gently reversed out past the end of the Raglan pier. Going ahead, he headed out into the bay. At the end of the breakwater, that old harbour wall that had been smashed to bits by a terrible storm many year before, flashed the warning buoy. That was to be his starting point, and as he passed it, he changed his mind.

  Rex had enjoyed the thought of dropping Charlie over the side, with an anchor tied to his feet, to send him swiftly down into the black depths, to choke his life away, as water flooded his lungs. But now, why not wait? If he went down to the Calf of Man, he could lie up for the hours of daylight, in one of the caves, where no one would look. They would think him long gone, and concentrate the search far out towards Ireland. The next night would see him safely on his way, like the fox that has eluded the hounds.

  Another thought trickled into his mind. How nice it would be to tie Charlie to a rock, and let the tide come in and slowly do what he had planned. Yes, he could sit an watch him die.

  He turned hard left, and hugged the coastline until the Calf came near. Turn right, and follow the rocks until he came to the place he needed. There was moonlight enough to see by. On the placid water, he eased the boat into the cave until it was completely hidden.

  Charlie had recovered from the blow by now, and was looking wide-eyed at Rex, who took great delight in telling him exactly what was going to happen.

  "You can shout all you want to. No one can hear you. This place is deserted. Besides I want to hear you, as you die". Rex gloated.

  The water was just washing around the base of a suitable rock. Another squeeze of Rex's hand and Charlie passed out again, and he woke to find himself spread-eagled against the rock, with his feet in the water.