August

by Gabrielle Lord

  After checking that my guard was still dozing in the corridor, I started a close inspection of the ceiling panels. The crooked panel was one of those that ran along the wall, and directly under it was the basin. Just above that were two steel brackets that held a narrow, wooden shelf on which stood soap and toothbrushes. If I could trust the two steel brackets to hold my weight, I could reach the ceiling and swing myself up into it …

  147 days to go …

  The thought of escape had filled me with adrenaline and excitement. ‘Hang on, Gabs,’ I whispered, preparing for the next part of my escape plan. ‘I’m coming for you.’

  Moving silently, I glided to check the door. The corridor cop had woken and now was a few metres away up the hallway, leaning against the counter at the nurses’ station. He was chatting to the night sister. This was my only chance.

  Although the light in my room was off, light from the corridor shone in, enough for me to see by. I tiptoed over to the sink and basin, silently putting a chair beside it.

  I climbed up on the chair and then tentatively put one foot in the sink, slowly transferring more weight into it. The basin held, but this was only half my weight. If it smashed under me, not only would it bring everyone running and put an end to my escape plan, but the broken ceramic of the sink could cut like glass, and open my leg right up.

  I took my foot out of the sink and climbed down for a minute, shoving the seat of the chair under the sink, hoping that it would give some support if the sink cracked. I took the thin piece of wooden shelving off the brackets and quietly laid it under the bed.

  ‘This is it,’ I told myself, using the back of the chair to climb up next to the sink again. This time, moving as quickly as I could, and only using the sink as a brief foothold, I got one foot on one bracket and lunged towards the ceiling.

  Feeling around for the other bracket with my other foot, I found it, and pressed flat against the wall. I slowly straightened up. I held my breath.

  The brackets held.

  I straightened my legs, reaching for the tiny gap between the crooked ceiling panel and the wall.

  The bracket under my left foot suddenly gave way. I had no time to lose. As I regained my balance on the remaining bracket, my right hand grasped the timber joist that I could see through the small gap in the crooked ceiling panel.

  The second bracket gave under me, leaving me dangling like a gibbon. Surely the cop outside my room would have heard that.

  I swung for a few more seconds, listening for voices outside the room. There were voices–that of the cop and the night nurse–and they were talking and laughing quite loudly, completely unaware of what I was up to. That was why the copper hadn’t noticed the crunching sounds made by each of the brackets as they came away from the wall.

  I prepared to pull myself up.

  With a loud creak, the door to my room suddenly started swinging open. I didn’t wait to see who my visitor was!

  My body galvanised in an upwards dive, and I grabbed the ceiling joist with both hands, hauling myself up, bashing the crooked ceiling panel aside with my head and shoulders as I pulled myself into the roof space.

  Instinctively, I grabbed a beam above my head with one hand, while I squatted, my legs straddling two ceiling joists, avoiding stepping on the thin plasterboard panels that I was sure would collapse under even part of my weight. I nudged the ceiling panel back into position with my free hand.

  There was a small crack through which I could see a tiny section of the room beneath me.

  The lights switched on. I sensed, rather than saw, people running into my room, and heard their agitated voices.

  ‘He’s not here!’

  ‘Well, where is he?’

  ‘Maybe the doctors took him? Or the police? Was he collected by Remand already?’

  ‘No! He’s escaped!’

  ‘Call security! And call for back-up!’

  It would only be seconds before they noticed the damaged wall brackets and worked out where I’d gone. I had to move quickly. And carefully.

  Crouched in the dark ceiling space I looked around in the murky light that shone through tiny cracks in the roof.

  ‘He must have slipped past us somehow.’

  ‘No way. The door was locked and his hands were tied. And I’ve been on guard out here for hours.’

  ‘Look, he’s busted the shelf brackets!’

  ‘Must have been looking for something to use as a weapon!’

  ‘This ward is locked. He can’t have gone far,’ one voice claimed desperately.

  ‘Oh God,’ said the corridor cop, with a strong sense of dread. ‘Here comes trouble.’

  Someone new stormed into the room, with a voice full of authority and anger. ‘I want that adolescent psychopath found immediately and I want him escorted to the Remand Centre! I want him out of my hospital! Now! Do you understand? Find him, cuff him, and get him out!’

  They hadn’t worked out how I’d disappeared, or where to, yet. But it was only a matter of time before they’d realise I was somewhere in the dark and dusty ceiling above them.

  I scrambled through the roof cavity as quickly as I could, stepping from joist to joist. After a while I came across another loose ceiling panel and paused to look through and get my bearings. I could just make out the reception area.

  I peered through, quiet and still.

  A cop with a familiar, agitated swagger was pacing across the open space just in front of the main entrance to the hospital foyer.

  He turned and I caught a glimpse of his face …

  Kelvin!

  What the heck was Kelvin doing here? Decked out as a cop?

  Oriana de la Force had what she wanted, so why had she sent one of her assassins? Surely she had everything she needed from me already!

  Whatever the answer was, it was more reason for me to get out of this place where I was a sitting duck.

  I had to move fast. I remembered a movie I’d seen where this guy had used the air conditioning ducts to wriggle through. I had no idea if this was possible or not, outside of Hollywood, but I had to try. Running along the wall around me was the long, square, aluminium ducting, and at the end of it, facing me, was the big exhaust fan, covered in wire caging. The ducting looked wide enough to fit me inside, if I could just get in there and start crawling. The exhaust fan would have to be my entry point.

  I had no tools. All I had were my hands, one of them with painful cuts.

  Crawling along the narrow joist, I made my way to the cage. Now that my eyes had adjusted to the dark better, I stared at the intimidating trio of fan blades that sliced around the opening of the duct. They were moving slow enough for me to make out the number of blades, but fast enough to take my head off.

  The cage covering was secured by four clips, one near each corner. It didn’t take me long to undo them. That was the first problem out of the way.

  The blades spun, unobscured in front of me. They suddenly seemed more powerful and sharper. I looked around, frantic for an idea on how to get past them.

  There were four thick metal joins–parts that connected the exhaust fan to the ducting–around the inside rim, just behind the blades. I needed to try and find something to wedge in between one of the joins and a blade, to stop them all from spinning.

  My shoe! I ripped one of my canvas shoes off, almost losing my balance and tumbling onto one of the thin ceiling panels in the process.

  I held the shoe out, trembling in my hand. I had to get the timing right, or I’d mess it up and make a whole lot of noise, signalling my location to security. Blowing all hope of escape. And all hope of finding Gabbi.

  Or I could lose my hand.

  I watched the blades go around, around, around …

  Here goes!

  Swiftly, I tossed the shoe in.

  It bounced around a bit, and I cringed at the noise it was making, but then it stopped beside one of the joins, as I’d hoped, and the blade hit it. It stopped!

  Unable to continue sp
inning, the blades hummed and groaned, like they were desperate to keep going, desperate to fight whatever had stopped them.

  The commotion in the hospital below was increasing. There was no time to lose. I crawled into the space between the blades, praying I wouldn’t dislodge the shoe that was keeping me in one piece.

  I squeezed through the narrow gap and crawled into the opening of the square duct. I turned back, amazed I’d made it, then jerked my shoe back out. The blades quickly started spinning once more, picking up speed with every second. I slipped my beaten-up shoe back on.

  Ahead of me, the length of the duct was pitch black. I began worming my way ahead, hoping the aluminium labyrinth was strong enough to hold my weight. I had no idea where the tunnels would lead, or where I should go. My plan was to just get out of the secured area of the hospital. Maybe if I could find my way to another part of the hospital, I’d have a chance of getting out unseen.

  My heart started racing uncontrollably. For a minute I felt like I was trapped inside the claustrophobic walls of the coffin again. I gulped air down, reminding myself that I could breathe as much as I liked.

  A sudden roar made me jump. The air conditioner had kicked up a notch in power, like it was on an automatic timer, and a rush of air blew dust up into my nose and eyes. Air whistled past my ears, but I put my head down and shut my eyes–it was too dark to see ahead anyway–and I kept crawling along, forcing my way ahead.

  I swung a hard right when I reached a corner, carefully manoeuvring my body around the bend. Ahead the air carried the faint scent of coffee and food and, further along the tunnel, I could see light.

  I came to a large grille–some sort of lightweight filter. Through the mesh, I peered cautiously into the room beneath me. A long table was visible, surrounded by chairs, its surface partially covered by magazines and coffee mugs. It looked like a staff room, but luckily for me it was completely empty.

  It didn’t take much effort to prise the grille up. I couldn’t wait to get out of the confined space. As I pushed the grille to the other side of the opening, a shower of dust fell onto the table below. I must have been covered in dirt.

  I lowered myself through the hole and into the room as far as I could, and then let go of the duct, landing on my feet on top of the table.

  Quickly I jumped to the ground and ran for cover beside a tall cupboard, up against a wall.

  I tried to shake some of the dust off my clothes, and wiped my face on my sleeve. So far, luck had been with me. But I couldn’t expect it to last.

  Not far from my position, thudding feet were running up and down the corridors, voices were panicked and shouting. No doubt the staff were on high alert, wary of the criminal on the loose in the hospital. But they still mustn’t have realised I’d escaped through the ceiling, otherwise they’d be on me in a flash.

  Desperate for an idea on my next step, I pulled open one of the cupboard doors. A row of nurses’ uniforms hung inside. My good luck was continuing! I wrenched out a pale-green shirt and pants, and pulled them on over my clothes. I ran my hands through my hair and took a deep breath.

  Standing tall and straight, and walking with a confident stride, I made my way down the corridor, past dark wards with occasional pools of light over individual beds, past a nurses’ station where two ladies were engaged in deep conversation, discussing a patient’s medication, and past a security guard talking very seriously into his walkie-talkie. He didn’t even look up as I walked by.

  I sidled into a lift and rode to the ground floor, dreading what I was going to find there. I braced myself when the lift doors parted.

  Before me was an elderly guy snoring in a wheelchair, being wheeled by a woman who appeared to be his wife. I stepped out, and while holding the lift doors open for them, I used the opportunity to scan the ground floor, left and right.

  There were cops in both directions. But there was only a matter of ten or so metres between me and the exit. Somehow I needed to just make it past the cops.

  ‘Thanks, dear,’ said the woman. ‘Actually,’ she said, backing out of the lift, ‘would you be an angel and mind him here for a minute or two while I duck into the ladies? Something’s going on in this place, and it’s making me nervous! There are too many policemen and women around for this hour of the night,’ she said with a chuckle.

  ‘Sure,’ I said, taking over the handles from her.

  She smiled, then toddled down the hallway towards the toilets. I grasped the wheelchair firmly and steered it away in the opposite direction. This would be the perfect cover to get me to the exit.

  I wheeled the snoring old gentleman casually past the reception area and towards the large, automatic double doors that led to freedom outside.

  I passed the cops without any trouble. There were five or six of them, huddled in a circle, busy making some sort of plan of attack … and all the while, letting their prey walk right on by.

  When I reached the exit I turned the wheelchair around and parked it, before silently thanking the old guy asleep in it for the help he’d unknowingly given me.

  Through the glass that separated me from outside, the bright lights of the hospital lit up a large circle surrounding the building and the stairs. Just beyond that, half-hidden in the shadows of the night, a line of cops waited. Their distinct silhouettes revealed that they were armed, in position and ready to attack.

  For a second I thought about backtracking and finding another exit, but a quick look behind me showed that the cops I’d just passed were on the move–in my direction.

  I took another deep breath and stepped outside the doors. I just had to reach the cover of darkness. How? I had no idea.

  I pretended to look down at a non-existent watch on my wrist, in the hope that I could pass as an exhausted nurse leaving a late shift. There was a small gap between the line of cops and the reserved parking area, so I made a beeline for it.

  I could sense one or two of the officers stirring, looking up to check me out. But it was when I only had a few steps left to go to reach the corner that I walked straight into Kelvin.

  Kelvin!

  ‘Look out,’ he grunted before sidestepping, and moving on up the stairs, heading back into the hospital. He hadn’t recognised me.

  I took another step down, preparing to jump and run for it, when I heard Kelvin’s roar from just a couple of metres behind me.

  ‘It’s you!’ he yelled. His footsteps instantly pounded back down the stairs after me.

  I deftly jumped aside to dodge his grip as he tried to leap out and tackle me. I shoved him away and he tumbled down the rest of the steps, crashing into the cops below like a bowling ball hitting pins. I launched down the last of the steps in one move, propelling myself with the help of the right handrail. A couple of the cops, caught in the collision Kelvin had caused, swung their hands out at my feet as I landed on the concrete. I bolted as fast as I could over and away from them.

  They scrambled to their feet, weapons raised, but I’d already made it into the dark.

  I ran through the carpark, ducking and swerving around parked cars, leaping over speed bumps.

  ‘Stop, police!’ came a voice over a loudspeaker.

  I made a quick left and dropped to the ground, taking cover behind a parked van. Cautiously, I peered around the back bumper bar and then snapped back immediately. Only a few metres away, Kelvin was striding along in the shadows, checking around every car, but what had made me jump was the gun in his hand! Didn’t the other cops realise he was a fake?

  Not far behind him, the real police were closing in. They’d fanned out, covering wide ground. Their torches zigzagged over the bitumen, searching for a sign of me.

  Frantic, I scrambled sideways like a crab, scuttling from car to car, crouched down, keeping ahead of Kelvin, and keeping ahead of the police. I was tracing the high fence surrounding the hospital grounds, searching desperately for an opening so I could get out, but finally the inevitable happened. I reached the end of the line of cars … The
re was a tree, and then there was nothing but the exposed bitumen of the emptied lot. I’d run out of cover.

  The barking of police sniffer dogs approached.

  I’m doomed!

  I had nowhere to hide! Keeping low, I stumbled across the uneven ground, then took cover behind the lone tree. A few metres away, the fence separated me from the road into the hospital. It was too high to scale. I peered around the tree and saw Kelvin checking under the last of the cars.

  Not far behind him were two German shepherds pulling ferociously on chains, held back only by the strength of the two cops behind them.

  I turned to Kelvin again. He stood up, looked around, then stared my way.

  The headlights and the red tail-lights of the traffic were only a matter of metres away, but the problem was that they were on the other side of this never-ending fence.

  The back of the building wasn’t far away, but I’d need to break cover to try and make it over there.

  I had to escape. I had to find Gabbi. The only hope she had of staying alive depended on my escape. I had no choice but to run for my life and hope no-one would shoot me in the back.

  ‘There he is!’

  The dogs barked wildly and the police shouted as I ran, chest thumping, praying I’d get out of there alive!

  The sound of a thousand sirens began blaring, and the screeching of a fast-approaching vehicle forced me to throw a split-second look behind me. An ambulance had screamed into view, speeding up the carpark from behind me. The driver was crazy, almost taking out half of my pursuers as it sped towards Casualty at the back of the building–the spot I was headed.

  The manic ambo caused enough of a disturbance to get me safely around the brick corner of the building, but as I continued running, it skidded around the corner, past me, and spun out, stopping in front of me.