by Jobe, David
Stephen had decided that he had heard enough. He had no intentions of meeting whoever this Boss was if he could help it. Steadying himself, he began to pretend he was choking on the rag. He made gasping noises and tried to rock his body as best he could.
“Shit!” screamed Lopsided. “Mouthpiece is choking!” Lopsided appeared over Steven tearing away at the tape that covered his mouth.
“Jackson, No!” Serpent Lady shouted, but it was too late.
Lopsided pulled the wadded ball of cloth from Steven’s throat.
Steven turned to look at Serpent Lady. “Kill them both.”
The speed at which Serpent Lady pulled her sidearm shocked Steven. More importantly, it shocked both The Nose and Lopsided. The Nose jerked to the side, away from her as the gun pressed against his temple and fired. The pistol made a muffled bark like the noise of a shoe scuffing a metal floor. They had augmented the guns with built-in silencers. The Nose’s brains splattered against the side of the van.
Lopsided raised his hand to try and stop Serpent Lady. The gun pressed against his palm and fired. The hand snapped back at the same time as his head. His head slammed against the side of the van, making a wet noise as it connected with its own insides that now decorated the wall.
Both shots had taken less than a second and had killed their targets instantly.
Steven smiled. “Get me out of these things.”
Serpent Lady nodded and began to unlock the bindings that held him in place.
Steven was surprised to find that the van still rocked along whatever path they had been going, the driver apparently unaware of what had just transpired. It seems the armored van extra protection had been useful in an entirely different manner. Sitting up, he winced at the pain in his stomach. He looked down at The Nose as the man’s brains leaked out onto the metal floor. “Oh, I’ll show you inventive. I can’t kill the cop, but everyone has someone they love more than themselves. I’m going to have so much fun with that person.” He turned to Serpent Lady. “Smile.”
She did.
“That’s right, doll. You look so much better when you smile.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Up and Away
“You want to go up?” Trip sat with his knees to his chest, an odd assortment of books strewn about him. His makeshift bed had been disassembled as he had sought to find the books worth taking, and then discovering his first selection to be too many; he started the whole process again. Now, his bed sheet sat in the corner closest to the door, bundled like a hobo-bag with five books lovingly crammed inside. “That seems counterproductive.”
Chris stood at the door, watching the empty hallway for signs of life. “Unless you can think of a way past the overdone security they have at the front. Even if we manage to swipe a keycard from one of the nurses, they still have that area where you have to be buzzed out by a security guard behind Plexiglas, with the door to his booth on the opposite side of where we are. I can’t think of a way to get passed him. Even if we waited for someone to come, which is not likely at this time of night, and we slip through the first door, we have to wait till it closes before the second opens. This place has better security than some prisons.”
“But why the roof?”
“You said it yourself. That’s the only way anyone has ever gotten out of here.” Chris watched as an occupant from one of the adjacent rooms stumbled into the hallway, wearing a hospital gown the wrong way. The woman staggered to stand in the middle of the hallway, perplexed by her sudden surroundings. After a moment, she stumbled back into her room, muttering under her breath about something.
“Yeah, to kill themselves. Something they were quite successful at accomplishing. And, I imagine afterward, whatever she used to slip past the third floor and the fencing on the roof, they fixed. We’re going to get caught.”
Chris turned to face Trip. “What’ll they do if they catch us? Throw us into our rooms and yell at us for being bad?”
“They could leave us on the third floor.” Trip gave a visible shiver.
“Come on. We’re wasting time, and letting our feet grow cold.” Chris slipped out into the hallway, moving low toward the back of the building. He didn’t wait on Trip, deciding that if the man thought it too risky and backed out, then he would just continue on. After a few feet, he could hear Trip slip in behind him, their bare feet padding on the cold tile floor.
His plan had been simple. The orderlies had an elevator at the back that went from the second floor to the third. It was locked down. It didn’t go down at all, so then the orderlies didn’t have to go through the security checkpoint each time they needed to go to a different floor within the wards. Chris imagined that once on the third floor, he would be able to find a door that led to the roof access. From there, he would have to wing it entirely. All he knew was that the world hung in the balance, and him sitting on the sidelines barking cryptic orders could no longer be the way it worked. Besides, he knew deep down that Lanton would never be able to shoot an innocent, even if he knew the kid was about to go nuclear. The man had a code of honor you couldn’t dent. Chris, on the other hand, was already a disgraced officer. He’d take the shot, suffer the consequences and be just fine with it.
They made it to the elevator with little issue, stopping only once to wait while someone groaned in their sleep loud enough to give them pause. After a few breathless moments, they moved on, skirting the room from the other side of the hallway. Chris swiped a stolen keycard over the sensor and pressed the call button.
“When did you get that?” Trip asked in a hushed voice.
“When you were on your third revision of which books to bring,” Chris said with a chuckle.
“My books!” It was then that Chris noticed Trip wasn’t carrying his makeshift bag. “I’ve got to go back.”
“Keep your voice down. You go back, and you stay here.” Chris could already hear the stirrings from the two orderlies down the hall. Matters only got worse when the elevator announced its arrival with a ding that sounded like a gun going off in the quiet of the late night. Maybe not that loud, but it wouldn’t go unnoticed.
“Aren’t we the only ones on duty tonight?” Orderly Nancy asked from the other side of the hallway. Soon he would discover the badge he so proudly bore on his chest was missing. Hopefully, he would search the bathroom to see if it might have fallen off when he had slung his coat over the top of the stall next to him.
“Yeah.” Orderly Charles replied. A series of scraping noises announced that they had abandoned their chairs and were headed their way.
Chris motioned for Trip to get on the elevator and they both scurried in. Chris jammed the button for the third floor while simultaneously pushing the button that closed the elevator doors. The distance the orderlies had to walk was a good one, but if they hot-footed it, they would be there before the doors could fully close. As the doors groaned to a close, Chris caught the wide-eyed gaze of orderly Nancy as he came to a panting stop. The door came together to the sound of orderly Nancy cursing and clutching at his breast pocket.
Chris turned to Trip and grinned. “Guess there’s no turning back now.”
“This is a suicide mission.” Trip announced, pushing himself into the furthest corner of the elevator.
“That’s the spirit.” Chris shook his head. “If you want to bail, I’m sure they’ll call the elevator as soon as we get off on the third floor. Tell them I made you do it.”
Trip shook his head. “I want to at least see the roof. Depending on what you decide at that point, I’ll decide if I return to my books.”
“Fair enough.” The doors opened to the third floor, the loud ding announcing them. “Could they make that thing any louder?” He stepped out onto the floor, looking around as if he expected the two orderlies to have magically found a way to teleport themselves up a floor. “Now where do you imagine the roof access is?”
Trip stepped into the hallway. “Don’t buildings usually have the stairs next to the elevators?”
They both looked around and found that none of the nearby doors appeared to be anything but rooms. Peering through one window, Trip suddenly found himself face to face with a bug-eyed woman who slammed her forehead into the re-enforced glass. When Trip stumbled back onto his backside, the woman howled with laughter. She vanished into the darkness of her room.
Trip shook his head as he got back to his feet. “This place scares the shit out of me.”
“I noticed,” Chris smirked. “Come on. I think they’ll have the door labeled. Let’s not disturb anyone else if we don’t have to. The doors to the elevator closed. “Besides. I don’t think we have much time.”
Trip offered a smirk back. “Mind if I see your badge, Nurse Chris?”
Chris laughed and handed over the stolen badge.
Trip motioned that he should continue on down the hall. Then he walked over to the doors immediately surrounding the elevator. Using the keycard, he unlocked the doors and pulled them open just enough that the lock couldn’t re-engage. The last door he unlocked belonged to the woman that had put him on his ass. He sprinted to catch up with Chris at that point, handing over the card. “That should give us a little longer.”
Chris nodded with a devilish smirk. “Very clever.” They began hurrying down the hallway, looking for a door that led to the roof. They had just found it when the elevator announced its return with a night shattering ding. They both peered down the hallway and found that two of the unlocked doors were easing open, one belonging to the bug-eyed woman. “Oh, that’s not good.” They watched as she slipped out, completely nude and smeared with something.
“Let’s go before we smell her.” Trip pushed on Chris’s shoulder.
“That’s not-“
“What the hell is that smell?” Orderly Nancy demanded before a naked woman rushed him from the darkness.
“Go! Go! Go!” Trip snatched the key from the mesmerized Chris and swiped the card across the release mechanism. The door gave an audible click, and Trip yanked the door open. “Freedom this way, Chris.”
Chris shook his head, trying to pull himself from the enthralling sight down the hall. The naked woman had jumped on orderly Nancy, landing like some oversized bug, clawing and screeching as he tried to dislodge her from himself. Chris ducked in the door and pulled it shut behind him. “I kind of feel bad for him.”
Trip nodded. “Nancy was one of the better ones. Still looked down his nose at you, but at least he kept it to professional distain. He’ll be all right. Might spend a few weeks on workmen’s comp, sitting at home eating Cheetos and playing video games.”
Chris laughed, “A horrible fate indeed.”
They started up the stairs. Trip added, “He’ll probably have nightmares about shit stained women.”
Chris shrugged, “you never know, that might be his thing.”
Trip shook his head and looked away. “He likes guys. Don’t know about the other part.”
Chris found himself stopping and looking at his friend. He wanted to ask so many questions, but the look on Trip’s face hinted that he was in no mood to answer anything. “Let’s get you to freedom.” They pushed out into the open air of the night sky. Before them the beautiful skyline of Indianapolis stretched out, twinkling in the clear night. The only thing marring the lovely sight stood between them and it. A ten-foot-tall chain link fence topped with razor wire ran the entire perimeter of the roof. “That’s daunting,” Chris said.
Trip, apparently infused with purpose now, shook his head and motioned for him to follow. He led Chris to a park bench that had been set in the far corner, probably for smokers to come out and enjoy a peaceful evening. A trashcan overflowing with an assortment of fast food wrappers flanked the table. “Help me drag this over there.” Trip pointed at a spot close to the door they had just come through.
“We going to put this against the door?” Chris took one end and lifted it up.
Trip shook his head. “No, this is how we get over the fence.” He steered them toward the side of the roof, peering through the fence before nodding to himself. “The awning to the first floor is just below this point. It’s still a drop, but it reduces some of it. Help me flip the table onto the fence. Make it hit as high as you can.” They grunted together and lifted the table to its side before pushing it at the fence. The sheer weight of the table made the top of the fence bow outward a bit. “Time to climb.”
Chris nodded, easing himself onto the first part of the table closest to him. The whole thing wobbled as he did, making him feel very nervous about the drop below. With each step, his combined weight with the table made the fence bow out even more. The nearby steel posts mounted on the roof began to groan under the weight, cracks forming around their base. “We better hurry.” He stripped off his shirt and tossed it over the razor wire. This kind of thing worked in the movies, but Chris found himself doubting it would work now. His mind filled with the image of his chest being ripped to shreds as he did. Would they find a bloody mess on the ground tomorrow morning, instead of an escaped mental patient?
Trip climbed on, much quicker than Chris felt comfortable with. Now the fence bowed, and posts began to slant toward the outside of the building. A few steps in and the fence gave way.
The razor wire snapped from the strain, a strand of the deadly wire flashed by Chris, cutting the side of his neck as it did. Enough to draw blood, but not life-threatening. The table slanted down, as the posts erupted from the ground, bouncing across the space like unchecked maces. Chris flailed, grabbing the sides of the table as he now hung over the side of the building, the roof of the awning just a floor and a half below him.
“You’re going to have to risk it,” Trip said, himself clutching the sides and staring down at him. “Let me know if you break anything.” He gave Chris a weak smile.
Chris nodded and tried to shimmy down the rest of the length of the table, but after the third adjustment of his hands, he missed and fell. The impact shook him, and because he had not prepared himself for it, he stumbled backward, landing first on his butt and then his back. When he finally stopped moving, his head hung over the front edge of the awning. “All good,” he groaned up to Trip.
Trip nodded and began to flip himself around. Making the same moves that Chris had attempted, Trip managed to pull it off and to do it gracefully. He dropped the final length and landed in a cool crouch.
“You were a cat burglar in another life, weren’t you?” Chris rolled and then began to stand.
“Not another life,” Trip said. He looked up to survey the carnage they had left in their wake. “We better move before-” As he spoke the bench gave a long groan as a warning and came crashing down. Trip managed to backpedal enough that the table missed him by a foot. The table crumpled under the impact, the wood splintering before it teetered over the side and vanished from view. However, they did hear it hit the pavement below with a resounding crash that made the first one pale by comparison. “We need to move now.”
They both scrambled over to the other side of the awning, dropping down to the soft grass below. Already lights were coming on on the first floor as a shout came up from the roof. “I think it’s time we split up,” Trip announced. “Good luck saving the world.” Without another word, he sprinted off into the night.
Chris stared at his receding form for a moment before nodding. He wasn’t sure what he had expected to happen, but he knew that wasn’t it. He started to run in a different direction, heading west toward the nearby major intersection. Sylvia said she would be waiting at the nearby Taco Bell in the parking lot for him. Now shirtless, he was happy she had decided that. The air was frigid tonight, and he wasn’t sure how long he could dash around like a madman before the cops picked him up.
As he made the first cross street, he saw a grey delivery truck jump the curb and then course correct back onto the street. Chris had been a patrol cop long enough to guess the driver might be intoxicated. He watched as the truck swerve some more, trying to stay within lines
that might be moving in the driver’s mind. He followed what would be the path of the truck, and found a young man walking the sidewalk by a closed-down Home Depot. The kid bobbed along, making Chris suspect that he was listening to music. Chris returned his gaze to the truck, and something inside him guessed that the truck would jump the curb again, and this time with tragic consequences. Sprinting now, he made for the kid, waving his arms as he did, hoping his madman tactics would get the kid’s attention and not any nearby police. Not looking himself, he bound across the street, hearing a blaring horn as he did, but missed being clipped by a white BMW.
The honking caught the kid’s attention, as he turned just as Chris scooped him up and tossed both of them behind a nearby concrete structure that housed trash bins for the Home Depot. As he did, the truck careened by, the passenger side grinding along the side of the structure nearest the road before the driver corrected again and plowed into a parked car in the parking lot.