“HOLD YOUR FIRE!” It was the same voice, more commanding this time.
Axel covered his ears. “Stop shooting!”
“Who’s there? Identify yourself.”
“My name is Axel Gardner!”
“I’ve got a crab here, officer,” Humphrey said. “Don’t push up!” He fired a warning shot. Another officer traded. Everything went quiet.
“Thomson, he’s got a hostage, goddamn you.”
Humphrey pulled the trigger again. The bullet struck a wall, a couple of feet behind them. Armored footsteps scattered around like ants.
“WILL YOU STOP SHOOTING AT THEM!?” Axel bellowed.
“It’s okay, crabby. They’re the SWAT; they wear black instead of blue.”
Axel rolled his eyes.
“Alright,” Humphrey said, loud enough for the SWAT to hear. “If any of you follow, the hostage will be killed. I’ve got another hostage, as well, so I won’t lose everything by killing this one.”
An electronic voice shot forward toward Axel and Humphrey. The SWAT used a megaphone. “Who’s the other hostage?”
“It’s a duckling by the name of Susanne Gardner!”
“My sister,” Axel added.
The flashlights of the SWAT didn’t reach Axel and Humphrey; they were too far up the tunnel. The SWAT didn’t notice that Humphrey had begun to crawl upward, with Axel by his side. The SWAT remained still, discussing negotiations and possibilities among themselves.
They used the megaphone again. “What are your demands?”
But Axel and Humphrey had already reached the end of the tunnel.
“Up here,” Humphrey said. Another stairwell led up. Once his foot touched the first stair, Humphrey pulled the trigger one last time. It struck the floor.
4
Beneath the blue sky, Axel stood with the eyes of an amazed spectator. They were outside the perimeter of Eastern Flower; none of the buildings were in sight. The search patrols, outside of the one in the tunnel, wouldn’t look here for a while. An aroma of bark and grass rushed into Axel’s nostrils. In his awe, he failed to spot a hospital van in front of him. Susanne waited in the back of that van. Axel breathed in deep and was met with a new smell, this one unpleasant—gunpowder. Humphrey darted out from behind him. He grabbed Axel by the arm, bringing him back into a nightmare. Axel saw the van now, painted a hospital white with blue text stretched across its side reading EASTERN FLOWER. A purple flower sat decorated beside the text.
Humphrey unlocked the back of the van. Axel stepped inside. He didn’t hear the awful sound of the van locking behind him, for his eyes cast upon a certain blonde hair, which he could recognize from miles away.
5
“Dear God, are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Susanne said. She seemed to speak with the tears in her eyes instead of her mouth. “I’m so happy to see you.”
From the driver’s seat, Humphrey roared the van’s engine. He drove onto a small, rocky road, entering a deeper part of the forest.
“Did he hurt you?”
A small, square opening allowed them to peek into the front of the van. Susanne turned to look through it, targeting Humphrey. He didn’t seem to be paying attention to the conversation. “There’s a tiny cut in my left eye, but it’s nothing. There was a drop of blood, and then I heard all the cars approaching. Axel, what the hell is going on here?”
Humphrey answered the question for her. “Please don’t tell me that you’ve already forgotten.”
“We haven’t,” Axel replied.
Susanne noticed Axel’s mouth when he spoke. It looked like a human heart had exploded in there. The flesh around his mouth varied in color. She saw the dark color of dried scabs around his gums; the dark red, pulsating scars, which had been made with a miniature saw. Other spots had shades of pink. They resembled chewed up bubblegum.
“Axel,” her voice turned steady but remained concerned.
“I know,” he said. “I know, Susanne. Not now, okay?”
Susanne gave a sigh and a nod.
The van uttered a tired roar. They were onto an even tinier road now. “There’s going to be roadblocks along the main roads,” Humphrey said, talking to himself. “We’ll drive past them using the cover of trees. The size of this forest is massive. We’ll have enough cover for at least a few thousand miles. After that, we’ll switch vehicles, clothes, and keep to the outskirts of towns. They’ll be focusing on this area. There’ll be less of them after we cut through the forest.”
Axel and Susanne ignored him. “Is she safe?”
Susanne knew who Axel meant in an instant. “She’s safe,” she smiled. “Samuel is with her.”
“What did you first think of the mule, crabby?”
Before he could answer, Susanne whispered in his ear that Humphrey was referring to Samuel. “He’s a good guy.”
“I would disagree with that,” Humphrey said. “He brought the night here! I can see that stupid wall of huge mule teeth smiling at us right now.”
Axel wasn’t sure if he should be asking Humphrey or Susanne. “How do you know he tipped them off?”
“Haven’t you heard the sound that mules make, crabby? There’s enough mocking in that sound to anger an entire continent. It’s like a mix of mocking and laughing. It had to have been him.”
“But how would they know where to find—“
Susanne shushed him. His eyes cast toward her, and she shook her head at him, demanding that he doesn’t pursue that question further. Humphrey took no notice of this. Through the small opening, Axel saw that Humphrey shifted his grip on the pistol frequently.
He must be sweating rivers inside of those blue gloves.
Susanne joined her brother and looked through the opening. A constant blur of trees swept past them. “How long before we can stop?”
“I’m afraid that we cannot stop for a long time. We need to be far away from here. They’ll be inspecting every string of grass within the area surrounding Eastern Flower. It’s all cat and mouse—the faster one wins. When we enter a town far, far, far away from here, there won’t be any search patrols. We’ll just have to avoid the occasional sheriff.”
Humphrey paused, focusing on the road. His eyes inhaled blue from the sky, taking advantage of the vibrant color whilst the battery of daylight still ran. “I told you that society is no good. Our government wants to put a stop to the change of our world. And I’ll tell you why; because it won’t line up their pockets. The golden idea won’t grow out of their own heads. They’re mad because they can’t send The Valuables around a big table of politicians who will cover it in corrupt spit. This change isn’t for them, but for the people. And they hate it. Their greedy hands can’t reach it.”
Humphrey waved his pistol around as he spoke. “Picture a SWAT uniform in your head. Do you notice anything?”
Neither Axel nor Susanne pictured a SWAT uniform.
“They’re black, but the letters SWAT are in white. They resemble the night sky coated with stars. The SWAT is controlled by the government more so than small town cops who wear blue. Therefore, they don’t represent the blue blanket of our sky. Instead, they are of the night. And we all know that most evil takes place at night. It’s the same thing with the FBI and the CIA. Guess what, guys and gals? Black suits with white shirts.”
Axel leaned against the wall of the van. His head bobbed along with the wheels, which crunched rocks and snapped branches. He felt warm air from the heated engine cross under his bottom. He looked around. Susanne joined his interest.
The van’s décor was also completely white. In the back, where Axel and Susanne sat, there was plenty of space. Cabinets were on each side above them. Some of them were open. Inside, Axel spotted some injectors, blood packs, and oxygen masks. They were all rimmed with elderly dust. Although the van’s walls were crisp with white, the cabinets were stained with dirt. Axel’s interest in his surroundings dwindled. His eyes felt heavy as they observed the van. Susanne leaned against his shoulder. They fe
ll asleep, touching hair.
6
Axel hoped that he would wake up to the sounds of nature: chirping birds, the sway of trees, and the sound of grass pressed beneath the feet of a larger animal.
His sleep had been peaceful to an extent. He awoke several times because of the hard flooring, however, it was a luxury compared to the chair he had been confined to. He admitted to himself that having Susanne by his side made sleep peaceful. All the anxious thoughts he had suffered perished with one cast of vision toward here. She was here.
She was safe.
Although their sleep was peaceful, their awakening turned out to be the opposite. They woke up with something in their lap. Humphrey had thrown something at them. It felt heavy and looked like a white dress. Susanne moved out of the way. Metal clicked together with her movement. Humphrey gave both of them their own straitjacket. He had found them inside of a storage unit, below the steering wheel. Humphrey stood outside of the van, aiming the pistol. A pleasant sight of nature waved from behind him. Axel felt slight disgust at the sight of Humphrey standing in such a beautiful place.
“Put these on,” Humphrey said. Susanne and Axel looked at each other. “C’mon, hurry it up. Don’t make me hurt you. I’m not in the mood.”
Both of them struggled with putting their straitjackets on. They managed to be fully strapped in the span of ten minutes. Humphrey had to strap the belts on the back of each straitjacket. “Alright,” he said. “Sit with your backs against the van. Don’t make any sudden movements.” Axel and Susanne slid against the back. Humphrey shoved a piece of white cloth in both of their mouths. To make sure that it stayed in place, he whirled black tape around the white cloth, reaching over the back of their heads.
Humphrey slammed the doors shut. They heard him enter the driver’s seat. They began to drive downhill. Objects in the cabinets jumped around in symphony. After a few minutes of bouncing around, the van evened out. Humphrey drove out of the forest, onto the main road.
A few minutes passed.
The van slowed down. Humphrey reached a security checkpoint. A young man with what must have been his first real goatee issued the stop with his hand. He stepped outside of a booth. He walked with both hands on hips. Before he reached Humphrey’s side of the window, he turned his head to the side and spat. Humphrey realized that he was dealing with something dangerous here: a spitting cobra.
“Where are you headed today, sir?” The spitting cobra asked.
“I came from Eastern Flower—the psychiatric hospital—and I’m transferring two patients.”
“Eastern Flower, you say?” The spitting cobra looked puzzled. “Boy, I haven’t ever heard of that.” His eyebrows rose. “Say, friend, what’s with the mask?”
“It’s for my own protection.”
“Explain yourself, sir.”
“Alright,” Humphrey said, stepping out of the van. “Come around the back with me.” The spitting cobra followed. He spat to the side.
Humphrey placed a grip on the backdoors. “I’ve got two dangerous patients back here,” he whispered to the spitting cobra. “They’re strapped, but keep your distance.” the spitting cobra leaned on his right hip in a cowboy stance.
Humphrey opened the doors.
“WHAT IN THE NAME OF JESUS HOLY GODDAMN CHRIST!” the spitting cobra screamed. His hand moved to his revolver in the blink of an eye. Axel and Susanne provided muffled screams until their faces turned red.
“It’s alright,” Humphrey said, copying the similar stop motion the spitting cobra had given him. “Don’t get too close now; these patients can’t be trusted.”
The spitting cobra stood silent. His eyes traced every inch.
“This woman torched that man’s mouth. She doused his tongue in gasoline and then flicked a match. Eventually, he built up enough saliva to compress the fire He was severely burned.”
“Jesus,” the spitting cobra said.
“Tell me about it,” Humphrey agreed. “The man panicked, threw his arms all over the place. In his panic, he managed to scratch her left eyeball.”
The spitting cobra swallowed his disgust. “But why are their mouths taped shut?”
“Well, the entire argument occurred because he started teasing her with words. They like to tease each other, these people. Their mouths are also taped shut so that they can’t bite each other. Let me tell you something.”
“What?”
“If their mouths weren’t taped shut, I’ll bet you one of them would start munching on the other’s face, ripping off all the skin until their head was nothing short of a tomato.”
“Are you pulling my jewels, sir?”
“Not at all,” Humphrey replied. “I told you that they were dangerous.”
“Uh-huh,” the spitting cobra agreed. “But why are you wearing a mask?”
“I’d like to keep my mouth. You have to use caution around these people. Sure, it’s closer to an impossibility that she’ll torch my mouth, but nonetheless, it’s still a possibility. One cannot wear enough head protection when driving a bike, no matter how good of a driver, wouldn’t you say?”
“I would definitely say so, sir.”
Axel and Susanne continued their desperate screams, to no avail. “Gee, sir, they’re really going at it. They seem to be screaming.”
“That’s what they do. Haven’t you ever seen a movie about mentally ill people? They sure are loud.”
The spitting cobra spat more toxic. “Yeah, I guess so.”
Humphrey started to close the doors, looking to the spitting cobra for approval. The spitting cobra nodded. “Go ahead, sir.”
They walked back toward the booth. When the spitting cobra crossed the van’s side, he stopped. “Eastern Flower,” he said to himself. “Where is that located?”
“Eastern Flower is south from here, a long way. These people need a brand new environment. They are mentally ill, of course, but we do everything we can to help them.”
“Waste of taxes if you ask me,” the spitting cobra said, still tracing his stare around the van’s side.
“I didn’t ask you.”
The spitting cobra turned to Humphrey, hands on his hips, smiling yellow. He walked to the van’s front, peering inside of the driver’s seat. “I should search this,” he said. Humphrey thought of the pistol he had hidden beneath the driver’s seat. He started to sweat. “But to be frank,” the spitting cobra said. “I don’t want to. I’m kind of scared to go in there.” He pointed to the small, square opening. “Will they look at me through that small window? “
“They looked at you before, did they not?”
“They sure did. Both of them looked at me. They seemed to take great interest in me. Hell if I know why, but sir, I’d be lying if I didn’t say that it gave me the creeps.”
The spitting cobra stood on the tip of his toes now. Both hands were cupped onto the window as he gave a detailed search with his eyes. “Torched the fellow’s tongue…is that what you said she did?”
“That’s right.”
“Lord, she must really be crazy.”
“Mentally ill,” Humphrey corrected.
The spitting cobra turned away from the window, facing Humphrey, eyebrows raised.
“Calling mentally ill people crazy is like calling African-Americans the N—“
Humphrey paused. The spitting cobra spat toxic. “Never mind,” he continued. “Look, I really ought to be going.”
“Yeah,” the spitting cobra said, wiping his hands on his pants, as if the whole van was stained with crazies. “I’m sorry to hold up your time, sir. This van looks official to me. There’s just one more thing. I’m going to have to ask you to take off your mask. I need to get a good look at everyone passing through here.”
“Oh,” Humphrey whispered in embarrassment. “That’s alright.” He raised his mask, letting it rest on top of his head.
The spitting cobra went back inside of the booth and returned with a notepad. “What’s your name?”
H
umphrey’s voice shifted in tone. He spoke in a shy, quiet manner. “Chris Michael.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Chris. May I please see some identification?”
Humphrey pulled the mask back down. The spitting cobra didn’t protest. “We don’t carry identification. It’s a new policy.”
“Well, my policy says that everyone going through here needs to show me some identification.”
“How many people from Eastern Flower have you seen pass through?”
“I haven’t seen any, sir.”
“That’s right. This is a rare occasion. These patients are our top priority. We don’t carry identification for the simple fact that our patients have access to the internet, and they could look up our address and such if they knew our name. I’m sure you can understand that most of our patients, like prisoners in prison, have hatred toward the staff. If we walked around with identification strapped to our chest, that wouldn’t be very smart, would it?”
“I guess not, sir. But I haven’t received any kind of notification to let someone from Eastern Flower pass through.”
“That’s because this is a secret mission.”
“Are you stringing my cheese, sir?”
“Not at all,” Humphrey replied. “Look, if I don’t deliver these patients, then I’d have to release them into the wild. I can’t turn back to Eastern Flower; they will no longer accept these two. If I were to keep them in the van that would be imprisonment, which is illegal, as I’m sure you know. Do you live around here?”
The spitting cobra moved his right hand away from his hip, placing it beneath his chin in a thinking manner. “Uh,” he fumbled. “Yes, sir—I do.”
“And your loved ones live around here?”
“That’s right, sir.”
“If you don’t let me through, and I’m forced to release these two patients, there’s no telling what they might do. They could show up at your doorstep. You mentioned their look. What if they gave that same look to your loved ones, creeping around your property, peering through your windows?”
Blue Anesthesia Page 20