Early Release

by Jason Michelsen

  16

  Adam continued to fight his inner demons, losing handily again as he led an angry mob into the medical hall and face to face with Saul. He screamed a scream of rage as he sprinted after him. Rage at this man for having the nerve to make him accept his guilt. Rage at him for showing him a life was possible without the pain of his past. Rage at David Saul for for not finding him before the Prophet after the collapse. Most of all, rage at his friend for being right.

  Saul had fled down a narrow corridor to his right, where Adam now followed. He rounded the corner and pulled up short just in time to see legs then feet disappear through a small hole in the far wall. As the rest of the crew caught up, Adam again stated the obvious: "Laundry chute."

  17

  While he clanged down the cramped laundry chute, David questioned the wisdom of his escape plan. It always seemed like such a smooth ride in the movies. Then there was the darkness that prevented him from knowing how far he had to fall. That issue was resolved when he smacked headfirst into a pile of very likely disease infested laundry. Thanking God that the laundry was there instead of more steel or cement, David flipped himself over and began to crawl out of the bin.

  That was when the laundry screamed.

  18

  Lisa Brittsen's day had started just like they always did. A sunrise run through the high desert, followed by a leisurely breakfast of cold cereal and fresh fruit while she read yet another adventure novel. Not for the first time, she had wished her life had the excitement of her favorite heroines who always found themselves in life-or-death situations right when their lives were at their dullest. But those things didn't happen in the real world, not where Lisa lived.

  Now, lying at the bottom of a laundry cart, the prison nurse was kicking herself--figuratively speaking--for her disdain of the simple life. Literally, however, she was being kicked by someone else, and it made her scream.

  Thrashing under the linens, Lisa dug herself out as ungracefully as humanly possible. At the same time, the basket's new tenant was scrambling over the edge and out of the cart. Between all of their flailing about, the balance of the wheeled cart was upset, and two people tumbled out and across the cold concrete basement floor.

  She backed to the wall, now a terrified nurse looking fearfully at the man getting to his feet in the middle of the room. He was an inmate, she could see the grungy uniform now, and not a small one. Standing about six feet tall, he was solidly built, with close-cropped hair above piercing dark eyes. He was the type she would have thought about dating, if she wasn't so busy thinking about him murdering her.

  He glanced at her dismissively before scanning the rest of the room. He patted himself down as if shocked to be in one piece, then shook off the fall and finally let his gaze settle on her. Lisa thought she might recognize him, but placing an inmate's face was something she had never really worried about before. Something told her she wasn't in immediate danger from this man, but whatever subconscious memory passed that along was far beyond her ability to recall. Still, he hadn't said "I'm not going to hurt you" or "Don't worry, I'm a friend" or any of those things new allies said in her books.

  Finally he did open his mouth and spoke to her: "Sorry, I think I fell on you."

  Oh my, she thought, I must recognize him from my rounds in the handicapped ward! There were a surprising number of physically and mentally handicapped prisoners in the federal system, a fact that had stunned her when she first started there. Now it had become a matter of course for her to see varying degrees of mental illness in almost all of the inmates she treated, and she no longer considered whether incarceration was going to make them better or worse. This particular inmate was probably more scared than she was after the noise and instability of this day, but if he had not taken his medication in awhile, he could also get violent. Lisa summoned up all of her training and got to her feet slowly, non-threateningly.

  "It's okay, nobody is mad at you." She smiled to emphasize the sincerity in her words. He looked confused now; she would have to be careful not to startle him.

  "Are you okay?" the poor man asked hesitantly. Lisa couldn't help but think how cute it was for him to worry over her when he was so clearly lost in this big, bad place.

  "I'm okay, sweetie; Nurse Lisa is just fine. Now why don't you go sit down and I'll try to find us a way out of here."

  This is it, Brittsen. You finally get the chance to step up and be the hero, all you have to do is take charge!

  19

  Is this girl retarded? Since they had tumbled out of the laundry cart she had been talking to David as if he were a child. While he couldn't begrudge her a bit of shock, they were in a serious time crunch and he didn't have time for her to suffer a complete nervous breakdown.

  "Look, Miss," he began as she continued to give him that infuriatingly motherly look. "I think you should take a minute to relax. Why don't you sit down and I will do some recon." The motherly look changed to bewilderment, a much more fitting guise given her youthful features.

  "I know you want to help, but I'm a nurse and I think you should trust me." Her matter-of-fact tone bordered on condescending. "An inmate with your condition needs stability, and I know today has been anything but that. If you'll just sit down and relax, I'll make sure nothing happens to you."

  He only let her finish because he was so stunned that she started. My condition? This psychotic little girl was talking about his condition? She wanted to make sure nothing happened to him? Unbelievable.

  "I'm sorry, lady, but I don't have time for your lack of contact with reality. There is a mob of the most deranged inmates this place has to offer upstairs, and they're pretty intent on seeing me dead before they leave. Given the way they've treated others I found, you won't fare any better. So how about we don't worry about my 'condition'--whatever that is--and just get out of here alive?"

  Cocking her head to the side, she scrutinized him in the dim light. "You're not mentally handicapped, are you?" she asked in a tone of slow comprehension.

  "What? No!" David shot back incredulously. "Why would you even think that?"

  "Well, you sounded kind of...slow, when you started talking to me!" the crazy woman replied defensively. "And it's dark in here so you look a bit...well, it's just dark down here."

  "Slow? I look a bit what? How could you think--you know what? Never mind, we still need to be moving." This frustration was the last thing he needed right now, but he couldn't just leave her down here alone. Even if she did call me slow.

  20

  The Prophet's eyes glistened like polished onyx as Adam explained how Saul had eluded them. Ice radiated from the killer, and those perfectly dark orbs seemed the source of the chill as well as the glare.

  Adam shifted back and forth on nervous feet, watching for any sign that he would be the next to die horribly at this man's hand. He couldn't tear the images of Garcia and Reed out of his mind, and he wondered what it felt like to have an artery torn open and know your life was slipping away.

  "Does anyone know how to get to the basement?" asked the Prophet.

  "The only route I know, we passed earlier and I noticed it was blocked. I used to work down there and I never saw another way down." A middle-aged man volunteered the information, obviously eager to please his leader.

  "We could go down the laundry chute?" offered a timid man with low self-confidence and a proportionately low intelligence.

  So lost in thought was Prophet that he didn't even respond to the weakness in the youngster. Instead he weighed his options independent of all the advice being tossed around.

  "No, we'll just have to let this one go. It's time for us to find our way back to the world, gentlemen, I think they miss us." With that, he turned and strode to the door, allowing just one enemy to live through the day.

  21

  Lisa did not need adventure any longer. Still very embarrassed over the whole "slow" thing, she now found herself wanting to trust this man. But he was an inmate. She had no idea which way t
o lean on the debate, and the opposing viewpoints were making her head spin.

  On one hand he was a convicted felon, just like the ones who had chased her down the laundry chute in the first place. After the threats she heard from them, she wondered if she would ever trust anyone again. Just because this guy hadn't tried to violate and mutilate--not necessarily in that order--her didn't mean he wasn't a serious threat to her. He was an inmate, she couldn't expect human decency from him.

  On the other hand, he had demonstrated at least a basic concern for her well-being. He also seemed to know a good deal more about the dangers that lurked upstairs, which could be a significant benefit in the hours to come. Lastly, and perhaps most telling, he had come diving down the laundry chute just like her. Not the actions of a man without a care in the world.

  "Who are you?" she asked, deciding to start with the basics.

  "David Saul," he answered formally, extending his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Without a needle in your hand, this time."

  Lisa blushed slightly; she was well aware of her reputation among inmates for being a tad rough in the course of her duties. She, like most prison staff, tended to fall into the mentality of "prisoners, not people." It was a common trap for institutional workers in any setting, reinforced by the sheer numbers of inmates and the natural tendency to only remember the bad ones. After awhile, they all start to look alike and in your mind they all become the bad ones. Truth be told, she never thought she'd get called on it.

  Hesitantly the nurse took his hand and gave it a brief shake. "Lisa Brittsen, nice to meet you, too. So, what brought you crashing into my laundry cart?"

  David gave her a slight grin, probably attempting to diffuse the tension more than anything else. She easily picked up on his natural ability to inspire trust and put people--or at least her--at their ease.

  "Neighborly dispute with some of the areas more colorful residents. They seemed to have a different idea on how my friends and the staff should be treated. I'll give even odds on which of us they'd prefer to get their hands on now."

  His reply was delivered in a light tone, belied by eyes that turned to stone at the mention of his friends. Lisa didn't want to imagine what he had seen that could make his gaze that hard. She certainly didn't want to dwell on the subject, so she changed it.

  "Well, what do we do now?" she asked. "The only way out is up, and there is a vicious mob waiting for us in that direction."

  "First, we check every way up from here and make sure they're not on their way down. For now, it's better to be stuck down here and wait them out than to try and outrun them upstairs."

  "I know there's only one stairwell; we fail every safety inspection because of that. I can get us there."

  He nodded curtly. "That's perfect for us, let's go."

  As Lisa walked to the door, she was amazed at how far her life had spun out of control since she woke up. Twelve hours ago she wouldn't be in the same room with an unrestrained inmate. Now she was turning her back on one, and worse, counting on him to get her to safety. Some heroine I turned out to be.

  22

  David watched as the nurse walked away; he couldn't help but be impressed. She was at most 5'3" and her slight build must have left her below 130 pounds. With dirty blond hair that came to her shoulders and clear brown eyes, she was recognizable as one of the more attractive women on the compound. Had it not been for her tendency to miss veins and give extra jabs with any needle she got her hands on, she would have made sick call a very popular place. Thinking he was slow didn't suggest great powers of perception, but other than that she had demonstrated a significant amount of toughness and resolve. Having been in the infirmary when she was working, he was well aware of the constant stream of degrading comments and veiled threats she endured, and could only imagine what she went through when the world of rules collapsed around her. She must have taken the same route to the basement he had, and it had to be scarier with her petite, fragile frame. Now, surrounded by this hellish environment and escorted by an inmate she probably couldn't tell from any other, she strode bravely through dark halls and around blind corners with shoulders square and head high.

  Lisa's sudden scream pierced his thoughts and eardrums with its high-pitched irony.

  Tearing back around one of those blind corners, she slammed into David's solid form and bounced slightly back. The military man smoothly steadied her and slid her aside to peer around the corner himself. Small windows set high in the walls of this tunnel provided filtered light. Poorly insulated pipes of varying diameters ran along the near walls, while fallen chunks of ceiling littered the rest of the hall. A lone rat scurried between crumbled stones at the far wall. His trained eyes detected no further movement in the shadows, nor anywhere for an enemy to hide.

  "That thing was huge!" the nurse whispered behind him.

  He shushed her quietly, still scanning for danger. The rat shot from its hiding place to another pile of rubble. David closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

  "Miss Brittsen," he whispered in a steady voice, "did you just give away our location--not to mention give me a heart attack--because you saw a rat?" He looked over his shoulder in time to catch her sheepish look.

  "Well, it was huge," she replied with a pout.

  "Okay, well, how about I take point from now on, and you try to avoid more screaming than absolutely necessary?"

  "Fine," Lisa sniffed. David barely heard her add another comment under her breath. "I hope it bites you."

  Despite her quirky lapses, Saul was starting to like her. She reminded him a little bit of his ex-wife--in the early years--with her cute innocence and vulnerability. Of course, his ex had outgrown that and become the type of woman that could support a dying family with nothing but the strength of her love. Lisa just alternated it with the fearless, take on the world attitude that was driving her through this situation where so many others would have given up.

  Brittsen guided them through the rest of the basement--safely behind David--without incident, reaching the stairway entrance in just a few minutes. David could immediately see trouble, as the steel door was hanging on one hinge, knocked open by the collapse of the stairwell's ceiling. Careful not to move the door and risk an avalanche of debris, he inspected the passage for passability. Although not airtight, no one would be traversing these stairs without a significant clearing operation.

  "Well?" Lisa asked hopefully.

  "Good news and bad news. Which do you want first?" he answered with a forced smile.

  She stared back at him with a mirthless look. She's had a rough day, I guess everyone has their limit.

  "They're not getting down," he continued, reverting to his serious face, "but we're not getting up either. Maybe if I wrench this door open it would clear an escape route, but it would also leave us unprotected."

  She nodded at his assessment. "So what do we do now?"

  David thought it over carefully before responding. "If they try to get down here, they'll make a lot of noise. These stairs make a nice alarm system. I say we use the security to clean up wounds and rest; get what sleep we can. Tomorrow we can plan our exit with sharper minds and rested bodies."

  Lisa looked at him skeptically, which was understandable given the circumstances. She was an attractive young woman who looked like she had never even jaywalked, and he was a decent sized inmate who she knew nothing about and had been locked up for God knows how long. And he had just asked her to spend the night with him.

  "I realize this is about as far from ideal as a situation gets, but we honestly don't have much choice. We need to work together, and we're both too exhausted to function tonight. If we try to get out now, how long would we be able to run if we bumped into that gang?"

  "How do I even know there is a gang?" came the quick reply. "For all I know, you're one of the cons that chased me down that chute hours ago!"

  "Then your choice is me or the rest of the gang, I guess. And I was at least the most dedicated to you." He placed h
is hand on the precariously balanced exit door. "Take your pick."

  23

  Lisa and David chose a good sized storeroom a short way down the hall from the stairway as a campsite. The room had the same high windows as a few other spots in the basement, but added the advantage of shelves full of blankets and pillows. Also, David had swept it for rats. Maybe he wasn't going to rape and murder her after all. Or maybe he just didn't want any rodent witnesses.

  Either way, he had treated her respectfully thus far, so maybe he was the reformed felon he presented himself as. His ability to handle crisis, at least, was proving admirable as well as convenient. All Lisa really knew at this point was that there was a lot she didn't know.

  "So, who is David Saul?" There was no way she was going to spend the night trapped with this guy if she didn't learn something about him.

  David, having just finished a makeshift booby trap Lisa didn't understand, took a seat against the opposite wall and made himself comfortable before he answered.

  "That is an excellent question. To be honest, I'm not exactly sure right now. I know who I once was, and I know who I became, and I even have a decent idea of who I want to be. Unfortunately, I don't know where I am on that path."

  Again, Lisa was impressed by such an honest answer. In a world where status and power were determined by how tough you appeared, what was she supposed to think about a man who revealed vulnerability without shame?