‘You know you’re flashing about ten thousand people,’ said Mai. ‘There’s even children… Shame… Shame… Shame…’
Ch. 16: Escape
“Gwaaak gwoo gwaaak,” Bolevard coughed out another lungful of water. After six months of experiencing these sessions every few days, Bolevard had long gotten used to it.
“How did you come here? What are your people planning? Until you give us some sort of answer we’ll just keep doing this, so why not answer,” said Mr. Blond as Mr. Black turned off the hose and set it down near the faucet.
Bolevard didn’t bother answering anymore. He had already told as much truth as he had to offer as little as it was. He’d tried fabricating lies for a time, but no matter how impossible they were to confirm, they never changed anything. Bolevard always found himself back in this room.
“Very well then,” the blond man walked over to the faucet and picked up the hose. From there Bolevard returned to gurgling.
†Oxygen Deprivation Immunity† makes drowning impossible.
Through Bolevard’s numerous experiences in this room as well as a bit of self-imposed practice in his cell, it wasn’t as if he had much to do, Bolevard managed to train his Oxygen Deprivation Resistance to level 20 at which point the skill evolved to Oxygen Deprivation Immunity. Bolevard’s body no longer required oxygen at all. He could have gone without breathing ever again if it wasn’t such a deeply ingrained instinct and if he didn’t still require air to speak.
Of course, Bolevard couldn’t let his captors get wind of this. At best, they would choose some other means of torture and at worst, it could lead to an investigation of his abilities that would prevent any hope of future escape. Thus, Bolevard pretended to be in excruciating pain as he struggled to cling to life.
“Enough of this,” said Mr. Black as he removed the wet rag covering Bolevard’s mouth.
“Awhh, come on, ten more minutes,” pleaded Mr. Blond.
“No, we’ve wasted enough time on this old routine,” said Mr. Black. “Even our bosses know that if there was anything more we would have found it by now.”
“Come on, you know that they’ll soon be shipped out and we’ll be assigned to another detail. With my luck, they’ll have me guarding some diplomat in Ethiopia or some shit,” said Mr. Blond.
“Five minutes,” Mr. Black compromised.
Bolevard’s ‘torture’ went for another round. Of course, he again said nothing and after a few minutes, Mr. Black called Mr. Blond to a stop. Mr. Black cleaned up and Mr. Blond lifted Bolevard to his feet, with his hands bound Bolevard couldn’t do it.
It was in this instant, while Mr. Black had his back turned and Mr. Blond was too close to see, that Bolevard acted. Bolevard had been planning this for a while but hadn’t intended on acting this soon. After hearing his torturers last conversation that all changed. If he was being moved soon, this might be his last chance to use it.
As both men weren’t looking, Bolevard silently focused on the sigil Sylph had passed to him, the sigil that he’d been practicing continuously for the past few weeks, or at least as much as his limited mana pool allowed. The sigil’s root was called grasp and when combined with a series of restraints essentially gave Bolevard a weak form of telekinesis.
Bolevard felt a trickle of mana drain out of him as he activated the sigil and grasped the small white card Mr. Blond kept in his left pant pocket. Both men carried such a card and Bolevard had seen them used to unlock doors by swiping them through adjacent devices. Bolevard chose to steal Mr. Blond’s keycard because Mr. Black usually opened the doors. By stealing Mr. Blond’s key, it might be a while before he noticed it was missing.
Bolevard continued the cast, slowly slipped the card out of Mr. Blond’s pocket, and tucked it into his shoe. With his hands bound behind his back and these two men knowing nothing of magic, there would be no reason to suspect Bolevard of anything.
†Sigil Mastery† has reached level 6.
Mr. Blond threw a bag over Bolevard’s head and both men escorted Bolevard down the long corridor to his cell. As usual, Mr. Black took the lead and used his card to unlock the door before Bolevard’s blindfold and shackles were removed and he was locked back up in his cell.
Bolevard silently waited for several minutes as the footsteps of Mr. Blond and Mr. Black faded away. When there was no outcry as the pair exited, Bolevard knew he had gotten away with it, at least for the moment.
“Sylph, you there?” said Bolevard, rushing to the drain and pulling out the white key card.
“Yes,” Sylph replied.
“I have it, the plan actually worked,” said Bolevard.
“You have the key,” Sylph gasped. “Why? I thought we were going to wait a bit longer for you to get more practice and maybe grow another level.”
Since coming to this world, Bolevard had only gained a single level by hunting some random vermin. This gave him five stat points to put into magic strength and mana. It didn’t require much magical strength to manipulate something as small and light as a plastic card, but the time it took to move it into position was a heavy drain on his limited mana.
“It couldn’t wait. Today, during the torture session, Mr. Blond indicated it would be the last one and that we are being moved soon,” Bolevard explained.
Bolevard’s biggest worry was that he’d be separated from Sylph. With the grasp sigil she’d provided, Bolevard was confident he’d find a way out of any new prison. But Bolevard had seen this world’s construction methods, seen the concrete jungle of the city he’d arrived in and figured that any place the two of them could be moved to would be similar.
Sylph was an elf. Her strength was tied to the earth and all life that it sustained. So long as she remained apart from the land, she would remain frail and powerless. If they were separated, she may never escape.
“I see. You did the right thing, but now we have to hurry. Can you get your door open?” Sylph asked.
“Not yet, I used all my mana getting the key. We’ll have to wait until it recovers,” said Bolevard.
The next couple of hours passed in total silence and stillness. If at any point Mr. Blond realized his key was missing, he could come back. Bolevard could probably have used grasp to exit his cell after an hour, but he waited until his mana completely filled. It was a good idea to have as much as possible before the attempt in case it took more than he thought to manipulate the key card through the reader or in case he needed to use more power later in the escape. Neither knew what lay beyond that hall or what other obstacles they might face before finding freedom.
Name
†Bolevard Croch†
Level
6
Class
None
Exp
48/550
Health
170/200
Satiety
85/100
Stamina
150/150
Hydration
97/100
Mana
40/40
Status
Burning Butterflies
Vitality
20
Strength
15
Agility
10
Endurance
15
Magic
1
Dexterity
10
Energy
4
Defense
15
Intelligence
10
†Skills†
†Sword Mastery Lvl. 3 (29.4%)†
†Barter Lvl. 2 (67.3%)†
†Oxygen Deprivation Immunity (Max)†
†Sigil Mastery Lvl. 6 (0.1%)†
†Mana Recovery Lvl. 3 (23.5%)†
“Ready to go,” said Bolevard the moment his mana reached its maximum.
“I’m ready as well,” said Sylph. She didn’t have anything to prepare, all she had to do was be ready to move. It was all in Bolevard’s hands.
Bolevard slid open the slot in the meta
l door typically used to deliver food and thrust his hand through it. He repositioned himself in the most awkward position, kneeled and with his hips grinding against metal, in order to reach the key card as close as possible to the reader. Bolevard wanted to conserve as much mana as possible.
Bolevard recalled the grasp sigil and used it to raise the key card the last few inches to the reader. It took a couple more attempts than he would have liked, but eventually Bolevard managed to slide the key through. The device on the door beeped twice and Bolevard heard the latch retract.
Bolevard pushed open the door and walked out into the hall. He had been in that hall dozens of times, once only a few hours ago, but this time it felt different. It was as if this sliver of freedom filled a portion of Bolevard’s soul that he hadn’t realized he was missing.
Bolevard moved to Sylph’s door and slid the card. He couldn’t help but note how much easier it was from this end. The door was quickly pushed open.
“Hello. It’s nice to finally see you,” Sylph smiled.
It was the first time the pair had ever truly seen each other. Mr. Blond and Mr. Black had only ever taken them out one at a time and when they were taken from their cells, they’d always had bags placed over their heads. Neither had seen the other’s face before.
Bolevard had heard stories about the elves, about their enchanting good looks that mesmerized even the sternest of souls, but never could he have imagined what he saw. Standing before him, looking up at him from nearly a foot below, Sylph’s warm smile sent Bolevard into a daze. A head of long forest green hair matched her pale green skin. Patches of it were missing, cut off during some of her sessions, but it only served to emphasize her sharp angular features that made her instantly draw attention.
Several long seconds passed with Bolevard frozen still.
“Is everything alright? We must be going,” Sylph placed a delicate hand on Bolevard’s shoulder. It felt abnormally cool, not harsh like the touch of ice on bare skin but more like the tickling caress of cool water on a hot sunny day.
Bolevard snapped to attention.
“Yes, we should go. Twenty-seven paces,” said Bolevard before leading Sylph down the hall. Twenty-seven was the number of steps Mr. Blond and Mr. Black always took when they were leaving. The hallway had several doors all of which were identical so this was the only one they were sure led to an exit.
After the twenty-seven steps, Bolevard and Sylph arrived at a particular door. Bolevard slid the key card and opened it. Beyond was another long hallway although different than the one they came from. The walls were not made of grey concrete and the doors were not steel, but instead the wood and drywall of a standard office building. Like the hall they came from, the hallway lights were out, allowing the pair some ease as they continued forward, but they both knew that from this point, one small mistake could see all their efforts ruined.
While the hall lights were out, Bolevard and Sylph could see light seeping underneath some of the closed doors and hear movement from individuals beyond. The pair muddled their way through the building, trying some of the dark doors as they passed, none of which were locked but all simply led to either small offices or more dark hallways.
“Hey, that says exit,” said Sylph, pointing to a red sign that glowed in the darkness. Underneath the sign was another door.
“Emergency exit only, door must remain closed at all times,” said Sylph, reading the words written across the doors in bold print.
“Well, that’s convenient,” said Bolevard. “It is an emergency. Think we should use it?”
“I think we don’t have any time to waste,” said Sylph reaching for the handle.
Now I should remind everyone, Bolevard and Sylph both came from another world, neither had seen an emergency exit before, they just knew what was written on the door. So both were quite surprised that the instant Sylph pushed the door open a whirring alarm loud enough to wake the dead filled the air.
“What the hell?” Bolevard exclaimed.
“No time for that. We’ve got to go,” said Sylph. She grabbed Bolevard’s hand and dragged him through the open door.
Beyond the door, the air was cold, fresh and pure. Bolevard knew he’d made it outside before his eyes registered anything. The building they exited was only one of several structures clustered together and joined by an underlying sheet of asphalt. Beyond the asphalt, a twelve-foot tall chain link fence, periodically interrupted by watchtowers topped with armed guards and spotlights, surrounded the compound.
Already, the guards on the watchtower were reacting to the alarms. Spotlights swiveled around, turning in towards the base. Half a dozen circles of illumination scanned the grounds for some clue as to what was going on. It was a dark night so everything outside the spotlights were completely mired in shadow.
“Avoid the lights,” Bolevard warned.
Bolevard and Sylph zigzagged their way across the pavement taking an extra minute but remaining undetected as they reached the fence.
“Quick, we just have to go a bit further,” said Bolevard as he grabbed the fence and lifted himself off the ground. Bolevard could see a dense tree line just a dozen yards ahead, the trees extended up into the mountains as far as he could see. If they made it inside, Bolevard and Sylph would be difficult to find. They’d be safe.
The small degree of hope in Bolevard, brought on by his acquirement of magic and the possibility of escape, blossomed. It looked like they both might just make it. In that instant, while Bolevard and Sylph were a couple feet off the ground and unable to dodge, a spotlight swept past them.
“There are prisoners trying to escape over the western fence,” the spotlight operator called over a loudspeaker. Dogs barked as they were let off their leashes and a great amount of stumbling could be heard as the alarm was switched off.
Bolevard cursed himself for being so foolish. He let go of the fence he’d just started climbing and grabbed Sylph, pulling her down as well.
“What are you-” Sylph started to say, but Bolevard ignored her. Being only a hair over five feet and a thin dainty elf, Sylph was extremely light. Bolevard lifted her off the ground and in a single motion threw her up and over the fence.
The ground on the other side was dirt and weeds, but the fence was high so she still hit the ground hard.
“Hey, that hurt. Hurry up,” said Sylph. She got up and rubbed her lower back as she waited for Bolevard to climb over.
“Go ahead, run to the trees. I’ll catch up shortly,” said Bolevard as he jumped back onto the fence. He started to climb, but it was too late. One of the dogs caught up to him. It jumped up and sunk its jaws into Bolevard’s ankle.
Warning! You are now bleeding. Health will slowly drain for the next few minutes.
“Ahh, damn,” Bolevard roared as pain inundated his whole leg. Bolevard tried to shake the beast off but its teeth were dug in and it was well trained not to give up.
“Get off,” Bolevard’s mind quickly flashed to the sigil he’d grown all too familiar with and bestowed it with a thread of mana to grasp the dogs eyes and push them back in their sockets. Being rushed and with minimal ability, the force of the magic wasn’t great, but it was enough to make the dog let go and whimper in pain. Unfortunately, it wasn’t before his distracted mind and injured ankle cause him to slip. Bolevard fell back to the ground.
“Hurry, you’ve got to climb,” Sylph hissed, remaining near the fence.
“I told you to go,” said Bolevard.
“But-” Sylph began.
“You can’t help me, so you might as well go. See I’m coming,” said Bolevard as he used his good foot to lift himself a couple feet back up the fence.
That was enough for Sylph, who turned around and reluctantly made her way into the forest.
When Bolevard saw this, he relaxed and dropped back to the ground. With his foot in this state, he couldn’t climb the fence; he’d only appeared to climb to get Sylph to run. More dogs arrived. They circled Bolevard and snarled at him
, but since Bolevard had stopped running, the dogs waited for further instruction from their masters who were on the way.
“At least Sylph got away,” Bolevard whispered to himself. “At least it wasn’t all for nothing.”
Bolevard had had a hard life. He’d never done anything important. When it looked like he would die to the beastmen charge moments before being taken to this world, he was filled with regret, but now all he felt was peace. It may not have been much for some but to Bolevard, saving Sylph made everything worthwhile.
After a minute, some of the watchtower guards arrived. They laid Bolevard on the ground and bound his arms and legs before giving his body a thorough search. Bolevard couldn’t help but crack a smile when they found Mr. Blond’s keycard. Mr. Blond’s picture was stamped to the front of the card so it was plain to everyone who he’d taken it from.
They left him on the ground for a few minutes as Mr. Blond and Mr. Black were located and brought over.
“What happened?” Mr. Black asked as he frowned down at Bolevard.
“There were two of them. One got over the fence and is in the forest, but we got this one,” one of the guards replied.
“Sneaky bastards… it looks like… we’ve been going… too easy on them,” said Mr. Blond as he kicked Bolevard in the ribs a couple times.
Warning! Bleeding has worsened. Seek medical attention.
“And how did they escape?” asked Mr. Black, trying to ignore his partner’s crude behavior. The actions in and of itself didn’t bother Mr. Black, he’d grown accustomed to Mr. Blond’s eccentricities, but he found himself embarrassed that Mr. Blond was engaging in such activity where everyone could see.
The Ice Lands Page 21
