Suddenly, as I was about to close my eyes and surrender to Marcus, the door burst open, slamming back against the wall. Marcus and I barely had a moment to look up when Glenn came storming in.
He didn’t say a word. His expression said it all. Eyebrows furrowed, lips frowned, his body stiff and aggressive. Glenn barreled into Marcus like a football player going for a tackle, knocking him to the floor so hard, they both slid all the way to the far wall. Glenn pulled his elbow back to deliver a punch, then another, then another. Marcus was alert and focused and managed to dodge every one of them.
“Glenn, stop!” I yelled. He ignored me, but it distracted him enough to give Marcus an opportunity. He jerked his legs up and kicked Glenn off of him, rising to his feet in a guarded position. Glenn stood up also, circling Marcus, never taking his eyes off him.
“She’s mine,” said Glenn.
“Like hell I am,” I interjected.
“No,” said Marcus, “She’s not an object to be owned and thrown away.” Glenn lunged at Marcus again, who ducked to the side and returned a punch right into Glenn’s gut, forcing him to double over in pain.
“We’re done here,” said Marcus. But when he turned back toward me, Glenn lurched forward, grabbing Marcus around the neck and leaned him back against the washing machine. He held one hand tightly around Marcus’s neck, while the other fist pulled back and fell just below his eye.
I couldn’t bear to just sit back there and watch. I jumped onto Glenn’s back, my arms around his neck and pulled until he released Marcus. He turned and pushed me back. I tumbled back, slamming the back of my waist into the dryer and then crashed into the floor. I wasn’t really hurt that badly physically, but seeing me like that must have awakened something in Marcus. A surge of strength seemed to build up inside him and he raised his fists to target Glenn. One. Two. Three times he hit.
I couldn’t take it anymore. “Stop!” I shouted. Marcus struggled to restrain himself, but he did with gritted teeth. Glenn cowered by a dryer. His face flushed red and his left cheek began to swell. As pathetic as he looked, I had no sympathy for him and shoved him toward the door.
“Damn it Glenn, stop! You lost me the moment you slammed that door on me. You have yourself and no one else to blame for that. We’re over, Glenn.” I pushed him out the door. In an act of finality I took out the engagement ring, which I had been keeping safely in my pocket, and threw it at Glenn. It bounced off his chest and clinked onto the floor. The sound was so dainty, yet seemed to echo down the corridor.
Glenn looked at me with the same biting scowl he came storming in with. “You’re just a useless tramp,” he said, picking up the ring. “You’re boyfriend better watch his back.” Glenn disappeared and I stood there for a moment trying to calm the tremors quaking my body. But I only relaxed when Marcus walked up behind me and cradled me in his arms.
In the morning, I went to Evie’s cell, which she shared with three other little girls, to take her to breakfast, but found that she was not there. The little girl sitting on the edge of the bed told me that the nurse took her away. She’s already had blood drawn from her. Twice. Why would they need her again? I wondered if it had something to do with what she said in the yard. About her genes being “peculiar.”
I felt anger rising in me but I breathed deeply, trying to suppress it. It wouldn’t do me, or Evie, any good to cause a disturbance here. So instead I met Marcus for breakfast and waited for Evie at our usual table in the recreation floor of our wing.
The recreation floor was on the lower level of our wing and consisted of three sections: a TV viewing area, a fitness area, and an area with tables set up for playing cards or board games. Evie liked to play games so we spent a lot of our leisure time there.
When she finally arrived, she had a large bandage the size of my hand wrapped around the inside of her right elbow, which almost matched the one on her left arm. She looked pale and lethargic, almost ghost-like. That was a defining moment in my life. That was the moment I decided it was time to leave Crimson.
* * *
“You want to do what?”
Lynx’s pale skin grew even sicklier and the way her eyes widened you’d think she’d seen a specter.
“We’ve got to get out of here, Lynx. Something’s not right. I’ve got a really awful feeling about this place,” I said quietly, pacing the room.
Lynx looked down and shook her head. “Pollen, you do realize this place is a prison.”
“But we’re not prisoners!” I exclaimed, a little too loudly. I looked around to make sure we hadn’t attracted any unwanted attention. Luckily, everybody was going about their own business and didn’t seem to notice me. I hushed my voice and continued, “We’re not prisoners. They said it themselves. They can’t force us to stay here.”
“In theory, yes,” Lynx agreed, reluctantly. “But they’re not going to simply open up the gates and let us out. Look at the Enforcers marching around, guarding every major thoroughfare.”
I paused when I spotted movement out of the side of my vision. It was Respa, strolling in and munching on an apple.
“Then we’ll find a way to escape unnoticed,” I declared.
“Wait a minute,” Respa said with her mouth full. She had stopped mid-stride and had that same incredulous look on her face. “What did you say?”
“She wants to leave Crimson,” said Lynx. Then she turned her attention back toward me. “Again, Pollen, this is a prison. I mean, a real, high security prison. This place was built to ensure people could not get out.”
“I understand that. But people have escaped from prisons before. With your genius, Lynx, and Respa’s know-how, I know we could come up with a good escape plan.”
“Whoa, hold up,” Respa announced. “Even if you two choose to go through with this suicide mission, which it is, count me out. I’ve actually got a life here now. And better than the one I had before.”
Before the virus discharged its toxic fury, Respa lived with her crackhead boyfriend and handed out bags of greasy hamburgers at a drive-thru. Her existence was pretty meager before coming here. Why couldn’t she understand? It could be different now. She could be free to live her life however she wanted.
Lynx gently tapped her fingers on her knee, something she did while formulating and contemplating ideas. I continued to plead with Respa, but she was adamant about staying.
“It’s possible,” Lynx announced. I relaxed in the comfort of knowing I did not have to do this alone. Respa, on the other hand, turned to stone.
“You’re not really doing this,” said Respa.
“I hate to admit it, but I’m also worried about the true intentions of our captivity here,” said Lynx. “And I can’t let Pollen go through with this on her own. She’ll never make it alone with Evie in tow. Respa, you said Quorian is an Enforcer. Does he have access to the main security room?”
“I think, but…” Respa started.
“Good. Get him to bring you copies of the prison blueprints. We’ll also need to know the Enforcers’ schedules. Mainly the changing of the guard.” Respa’s brow arched with concern.
“But how?” Respa insisted.
Lynx smiled, “Use your irresistible charisma.”
I placed my hands on her shoulders, “Respa, I understand why you won’t go with us. But will you at least help us?” She looked at the floor, weighing her options then raised her head with that impish smirk and nodded reluctantly.
And help us escape, she did.
Chapter 17
Time doesn’t exist in the hole. I have no concept of day or night. I sleep and awaken, but I don’t know for how long either lasts. All of my dreams are collections of memories of my time at Crimson. All of my waking thoughts are of Evie, Marcus, and my intentions to get out again.
During my waking hours I work out to keep my body strong and fit. There’s not a lot of wiggle room in this dungeon, so I utilize every inch of space I have. I run laps around the room until I’m too tired to continue. Then I t
urn and run in the other direction until I can run no more or I’m just too dizzy to stay on my feet. I started doing pushups on the wall while my arms were too weak to hold myself up. Then I graduated to knee pushups on the floor. Now I do regular full body pushups. With the handcuffs still gripping my raw wrists, the positioning is awkward. I can feel myself using muscles I didn’t even know I had. Now I’m up to eighty pushups, three times a day. Squats, lunges, sit-ups. If I can do it with my body, I do. I don’t waste idle time sitting around feeling sorry for myself. Every second is precious time to use or waste. And I choose to use it.
* * *
I don’t know exactly what it took for Respa to get the information we needed, but she did. She knew the ins and outs of Crimson, which rooms were occupied at what times, when Enforcers took their breaks, which Enforcers were more lax than others, the comings and goings of certain vehicles, every possible exit from the building and gates.
Lynx devised a plan using the prison blueprints and her knowledge of architecture and building construction. She mapped out an escape route to the warehouse through the air ducts. Respa had planned the time of our departure, so that our absence would go unnoticed and we’d be able to sneak into the back of a cargo van heading out to pick up more “refugees,” just before it left the warehouse.
I had managed to convince Marcus and Evie to come with me. Lynx also brought along Clover, who seemed even angrier about being in here than I was. Respa remained insistent that she stay despite my constant prodding, but agreed to cause a distraction in case we’d been discovered escaping.
Even though the air ducts were wide and passable, they were still a nightmare for any claustrophobic. Evie could slink through and maneuver around very easily. But Clover had to struggle quite a bit more than the rest of us, being so large and bulky. Marcus took the lead, making sure we were in the clear before taking the next step. Evie was behind him, followed by me, then Clover, and Lynx brought up the rear, helping to push Clover through the especially tight curves. Although he was integral to our plan, there were times I really wish he hadn’t come. I was so worried we would be late and miss our opportunity to escape.
Marcus paused when he reached the grate that led to the warehouse. He brought a ratchet that Clover had picked off of a mechanic a few days earlier, and loosened the bolts on the grate. After what seemed like an eternity we began to move forward.
There were stacks of wooden crates in front of the air duct, which made entering the warehouse unseen rather easy. Unfortunately, they blocked our view, so it was difficult to assay our surroundings. Once everybody was out, I peered around the side of the crates. It looked like a typical warehouse: dull gray cinderblock walls, a 3-story high ceiling covered with rafters, flickering fluorescent lights. To the left a staircase ascended the wall to a single door and an elevated walkway spanned the perimeter where Enforcers were supposed be posted at all times—it was empty. On the floor were wooden crates like the ones we were hiding behind and all kinds of vehicles facing the open garage doors.
I caught a glimpse of a middle-aged man with a black baseball cap climb into a small white cargo van. Marcus nudged me, a signal that it was time to go.
It was late at night, so there weren’t many people there. A group of Enforcers were huddled around a table playing cards. I suppose that’s where the missing Enforcers were—playing games and goofing off instead of staying at their posts. Glenn was among them. They were so engrossed in their game; they didn’t even look up when we scurried between the stacks of crates toward the van.
The engine started just as we got in. I was surprised the driver didn’t notice the shift in weight, especially after Clover climbed in and shut the door. The back of the van was empty except for the five of us. We began to move forward. We made it. I hugged Evie and loosened my grip on her, knowing that we would be okay. We were going home. Home, where we could begin a new life. Just Evie and me. And maybe Marcus, if he wanted. He’d make a great father figure for Evie. And I’d have to be a mother to her. A role that absolutely terrified me after what happened to Lex. Now I would be thrust into that position with no other options. But I couldn’t allow myself to fall victim to my fears now. We were going home.
A flood of relief washed over me for about three seconds. Then the back doors of the van flew open and there was Glenn, sneering at me. He lunged forward, snatched Evie from my arms, and then slammed the doors shut, inches from my face, as the van took off. I tried to open the door to get out, but Marcus held me back.
“Don’t Pollen,” he protested, “that’s what he wants you to do.”
“But I can’t leave without her!” I pleaded.
“We’ll come back for her,” he said, “I promise. If we go back now we’ll all be condemned.”
“But what if they hurt her?” I asked.
“They won’t,” said Marcus. “I don’t care what he says, Glenn still loves you. He took Evie because he knew you would come back to get her. He wouldn’t hurt her if that meant losing you.”
“He’s already lost me.”
“I know. But he’s still hanging on to the hope you’ll change your mind. Trust me. I’ve been there,” he said.
We all jerked toward the front as van began to slow to a stop. Marcus placed his finger to his lips and we all froze. According to Respa, there were two fenced perimeters surrounding Crimson. She mentioned a possible third one, but said it was unmanned.
The plan was to get out at the second gate, as the Enforcers were checking the drivers, and take control the van. Respa assured us that they don’t check the cargo at the first gate, but as we were sitting there silently, I could hear voices just outside the back doors. The latches on the doors screeched as they slowly twisted and my breathing intensified. The voices quieted as the sound of my rapidly beating heart took over. Marcus cracked his knuckles and turned to look at Clover. Clover gave a brief nod of assent.
Just as the doors cracked open, Marcus and Clover drove them forward, knocking down the Enforcer who opened them along with another man, the driver, I presume. There were three more Enforcers, two men and a woman, standing just beyond the reach of the doors. Marcus and Clover jumped out of the van with such force none of the Enforcers had the time to aim their weapons before they were pushed to the ground. The third man turned and ran back toward the warehouse. In the dark distance, illuminated by the floodlights outside the prison, more Enforcers were mobilizing, running towards us and getting into their vehicles.
I suppose the Enforcers were ill prepared for an event such as this. After all, this was the first escape ever attempted at Crimson since the virus, and most of the Enforcers were just ordinary citizens wearing a crappy blue uniform.
I crawled out to see Marcus striking an Enforcer’s head with a cudgel he must have swiped from one of them. I had to jump over the legs of another Enforcer, whom Clover was straddling, punching his face. It’s obvious he and Clover didn’t intend to kill the Enforcers, just keep them out of our way. I reached the drivers door just as the driver was scrambling to get in and somehow found the strength to yank him out and throw him to the ground. I got in just as Lynx was entering the other side. To my relief, the engine was still running. I honked the horn to signal to the guys that we were ready.
The vehicle jerked down slightly with the weight of Marcus and Clover in the back. A muffled shout came from the back just before the doors slammed shut. “Go!”
I put the car in drive and stomped on the accelerator. I could see the second gate approaching quickly. It was closed and two men stood before it, but I pushed the pedal to the floor with no intention of letting up. They ducked to the side, only after they realized the van was speeding up instead of slowing. My whole body tensed and my arms flew over my face as the van crashed through the gate, ripping a hole through the metal fencing which screeched as it scratched the side of the van. The windshield cracked, but I could still see the road ahead. Behind us, there were at least five vehicles on our tail. Alarms blared and l
ights flashed all around Crimson. Oh my god, what have we done?
I hadn’t realized the implications of our plot when we had planned it out. I guess that just shows how naïve I truly am. I actually thought we’d make a quiet escape and nobody would realize our absence until the next morning. How wrong I was. Now we had half the facility chasing us and if we couldn’t get away, well, I didn’t want to think of what would happen to us.
My foot pressed the accelerator all the way to the floor, but the van wouldn’t go any faster, and our pursuers were quickly closing the gap. I’d driven about a mile or two and Crimson was out of sight. All I could see behind me were headlights and the flashing blue lights of the Crimson vehicles. Respa must have been mistaken about the third gate, since all I saw out there was pasture with woods beyond. The road up ahead curved and I was forced to slow down. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Lynx gripping the dashboard, and staring straight ahead. She looked quietly focused, nothing like the nervous wreck I was.
Approaching the curve I was torn between the need to slow down and the compulsion to escape. As we veered to the left I flinched in horror as I realized I misjudged the arc of the curve. I tried to brake, but it was too late. The van had already tilted up on its side tires. In a moment that seemed to last twenty minutes, we rolled over like wet clothes in a dryer. Glass shattered and I felt a burning sensation across my face as a shard sliced right through the skin, from my forehead, across my nose, down my opposite cheek.
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