Learning the Hard Way 2

by H. P. Caledon

  Shit! That was Keelan’s first cognitive thought as he woke up to a thunderous headache. Another trap! Will I ever learn?

  His pride was far from bruised by walking into a trap set by Mike and Ratkins, as they had a helluva lot more experience setting them than Keelan had in avoiding them.

  Another lesson, huh, Mike. Not exactly a bad one.

  Keelan opened his eyes and saw Mike being lifted onto a gurney. He was pale, and his body was unresponsive.

  Too bad it cost you your life.

  Keelan tried to move, but his hands were cuffed, and he couldn’t move his jaw. The metallic taste didn’t stem from blood but from a bit. The taste almost made him gag, but to throw up and not be able to spit it out seemed like a really bad idea, so he focused on breathing slowly through his nose and getting control of his body. It worked, so he tested the strength of what Ratkins had cuffed him with. That only resulted in the restraints digging painfully into his flesh.

  Ratkins came to stand over him, but Keelan could barely turn enough to look up at him.

  “Did you really succeed in tracking Mike here? Or did you just stumble upon us when you had to visit that girl again?”

  Keelan felt a moment of insecurity. Had Alice tried to get a part of the reward? No, he couldn’t believe it. Billy? No, he seemed too loyal to Alice... but then again, loyalty seemed to be priced. Mike’s lesson about fucking with people’s minds made him believe that Alice and Billy didn’t do anything and that question was just Ratkins’ way of getting to him. Ratkins was so weathered in his business that he’d have to be an expert at mind-fucking people.

  Keelan glared at Ratkins, who just chuckled. Keelan saw the gloating smile, then the sole of Ratkins boot... then nothing.

  When Keelan came to again, he was on a ship heading for a maximum-security facility. The nausea was back, but it wasn’t caused by the bit, but by fear.

  New rules to learn, new power games to play.

  Steps sounded on the stairs, and Keelan looked up to see Ratkins approach with a weighing glance. With a quick and well-practiced move, he removed the bit which had been in Keelan’s mouth long enough for his upper lip to get stuck to the metal. Keelan roared in pain and irritation and tried to kick Ratkins, which turned out to be impossible as he was fixated to a cryo-insert. The pains in his lips ebbed away but remained a dull throb.

  “Better than me losing a finger, because that would hurt you a lot more for a lot longer.”

  “Or you could try with please or be so kind not to bite my fingers off, and I’ll remove the torture-thing,” Keelan said.

  “Do you want the torture-thing back in? Because then I think you should keep talking.” Ratkins held up the bit.

  Keelan looked at it and thought he could see some of his skin on it.

  “Here.” Ratkins held out a water bottle and poured close to Keelan’s mouth. He had to stretch and drank as much as he could to remove the taste of the bit and blood from his lip.

  “Thanks,” Keelan mumbled, earning himself a puzzled look from Ratkins while he capped the bottle again. Ratkins shook his head and pushed a button that elevated and turned Keelan to lie horizontally. Keelan looked around and hated what was going to happen.

  Cryo.

  “Sleep tight,” Ratkins said while injecting Keelan’s arm. “See you in three months.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Keelan heard voices and felt that he was being moved around. Panic took hold as his body was still under the effect of the cryo-meds. His brain felt like porridge, and not many thoughts would stick together to anything but one clear and definable feeling of panic.

  It finally dawned on him why he was feeling panic. Ratkins hadn’t woke him up before they landed—he hadn’t had time to wake up and be just a little bit ready to defend himself when they threw him in with the general population.

  To his relief, Keelan wasn’t released from the cryo-insert he’d been strapped to for the past three months—they were just moving him and the insert onto something with wheels. With a hood over his head, he was wheeled into the prison. They took the hood off again when they stopped next to a line of small cages with thick bars. A guard adjusted the level, and Keelan ended up almost in upright position. A man appeared at his side and unpacked the gear to tattoo the additional codes onto his arm while a guard helped free Keelan’s arm.

  244/268/216/348 – 1/1/2/1 – DZ/V4 P – 1/2612 – LIFE MXS I

  “Jeez, I almost need to break this code into two lines,” the tattoo-guy muttered.

  “Yeah, he’s been busy,” Ratkins said coldly.

  The tattoo-guy packed away the equipment and picked up a memo-pad. “Additional information added to archive the twenty-seventh—”

  “Twenty-eights, eight month,” Ratkins corrected.

  “Oh, yeah. Seven months on the skip?”

  Yeah, four. The rest is cryo.

  “There are other targets to hunt. I have other stuff to do, too, you know,” Ratkins said.

  The guards released the straps holding Keelan to the insert and his legs collapsed. He couldn’t even lift his arms yet. The guards half carried, half dragged him into one of the small cells and placed him gently on the floor. He heard the cell close and a guard bitch.

  “Fuck, he’s heavy.”

  From his place on the floor, Keelan could see Ratkins receive payment before he rolled off with his insert. Two guards came over to stare at Keelan.

  “How long do you think? Three?”

  “Nah, two. He’s already recovering.”

  The guards left him lying in an uncomfortable position on his side. Keelan tried to move. He was lying on a pebble that dug painfully into his hip. With much difficulty, Keelan managed to get his unwilling motor skills to cooperate and managed to get up on hands and knees. From there, he tipped over and fell against the bars, but he ended up on the opposite side and not on a new pebble.

  From there, he could see more of his surroundings. He was lying in a cell no bigger than eight by eight feet separated from the next cell by about three feet. Several cells that size were lined up on one side of the wide corridor with gray walls and a ceiling hidden in darkness. A few of the other cells had prisoners lying on the floor, too, while a man stood up, looking groggy in the one next to Keelan’s.

  Keelan heard a mechanical and then a swooshing sound—a door in the wall opened in the man’s cell. The guy looked around puzzled but jumped as the entire end wall of the cell moved toward him and thus forced him to exit the cell through the door that had just opened.

  Keelan discreetly eyed his own cell, and it too had a door and rails. At one point the wall would open in his cell, too, and the end would force him into Irgang.

  So that’s why they don’t wake us up on approach. So we’re too drowsy to resist.

  Keelan watched as another prisoner got to his feet. The door in the wall of his cell opened, and the bars forced him to exit.

  Aha, well I’ll just stay down a little while longer then.

  Keelan let his head rest on his arm even though it still burned from the new mischief added.

  As his head cleared, he was able to rethink all that had happened and how he felt about it. Granted, the world had gone on for the three months, but to Keelan, it had barely been half a day. And Mike was dead. He remembered the look in his eyes just before they had rolled back in his head and he’d passed out from blood loss.

  Keelan couldn’t really find heads or tails in his own feelings, but he was still angry with Mike. Angry that he made him doubt his own feelings and feel hurt in the middle of his revenge. And of course, because Mike had screwed him over again.

  Nice plan, Mike. I didn’t see that one coming. Now I’m in prison again—a prison that no one has ever escaped from!

  But, if there’s a way out, I’ll find it. There’s always a way out, you just have to find it. If there’s a way in, there has to be a way out, and I highly doubt that these small cages are the only doors into this prison.

  A door be
hind Keelan opened, and he heard a couple of the guards chat before a loud clatter sounded.

  “Hey, get up. Look at me, are you ready?”

  Keelan tried to seem more dazed than he was, but the guard had apparently seen that trick before because he smiled indulgently and looked back the way they had come.

  “Ready three for transit!”

  “Come on, get up, or you’ll get jammed,” the other guard said. The bars shook, and Keelan got up on legs shakier than he liked. He gave the guards an annoyed stare, but they were far from the most unsympathetic guards he’d ever met, so he finally just sighed and walked into Irgang. The door closed behind him, and he looked up, and down the hallway, he was standing in before looking up into the ceiling—cement about three feet above his head. Everything was cement. Light shone through grids, but the holes were so small that he couldn’t even get a hand through. There were doodles in every color, form, and size on the floor, walls, and even the ceiling. There was paper, a few old clothing items, and a shoe with no sole scattered around the place.

  What a dump... where are the cells?

  No doors, no windows... no prisoners. Just cement with doodles and litter.

  “Two r, forty-seven l, round and r and twelve and...” An old man with a vacant expression and dragging steps rounded a corner and walked straight past Keelan with his left hand on the wall.

  “Hey, where are the cells,” Keelan asked.

  “Always keep left,” the man mumbled without ever looking at Keelan. “Four and forty-five degrees, count three and keep to the opposite wall... the sign is up... eight... look up, look up... a star...”

  Keelan raised his brows in disbelief and looked around the place again. The old man disappeared left around the next corner. Seconds later another man came around a corner, but he didn’t recognize Keelan’s presence either. He searched the walls and made strange gestures with the fingers on one hand. As if he was writing in the air.

  Madhouse!

  “Excuse me, can I just... I need to... two curvatures,” the man said and stopped by Keelan, who apparently stood in his way of searching the walls.

  “Only if you tell me where there are cells and people and so on.”

  The man looked up at Keelan, puzzled. “Keep left,” he said and shrugged, before turning his attention back on the wall and pushed Keelan out of the way.

  “Aha,” Keelan mumbled. “My left or yours?”

  “Doesn’t matter, just keep left.”

  Keelan gaped and turned to walk away. Then he stopped and looked at the guy. “What are you looking for, anyway?”

  The man gave him all of his attention. “What everybody is looking for.”

  “Hmm... behind you,” Keelan said. The man looked positively surprised and turned around, searching the wall.

  Two curvatures. If that’s anything but his own ass, I don’t know what. He probably couldn’t even find that much in here.

  Keelan continued holding left by putting his hand on the wall and following it. Halfway down a hallway, he saw that it was a dead end.

  “Keep left? Well, it certainly isn’t a problem getting exercise in here,” Keelan muttered and turned. As he rounded the next corner, he saw a man walking toward him. He looked confused, too, but not like the others Keelan had met so far. He looked cleaner, too, and his clothes were newer.

  “You new here?” the man asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Cells? Have you seen them?”

  “No, some old guy said to keep left,” Keelan said and pointed to the end of the blind hall.

  The man peered around him and laughed. “Don’t tell me you went all the way down there.”

  “Do I look stupid?” Keelan asked.

  “No, not yet. I think people end up loony, though. At least that’s what I heard. All these symbols,” the man said and ran his hand over the wall. “They say there’s a way out of the maze and everybody is looking for it.”

  Keelan didn’t manage to school his expression enough to hide hope.

  “Forget it, man, that’s how they keep us busy in there. Wanna look for cells together?”

  Keelan looked at the many symbols, and the hope disappeared. “Yeah, as long as you don’t start counting.”

  The man chuckled and held out his hand. “Jasper Kruse.”

  “Keelan Hunter.”

  They shook hands.

  “Hey, you’re that guy who busted out of Delta Zeich!” Jasper exclaimed and spun to face him.

  Keelan was surprised that he was that known for it.

  “Where did they catch you?” Jasper continued with an open and curious expression on his face.

  “Verion four.”

  “Ah, isn’t that like the first place they look for escaped prisoners?” Jasper asked as they started walking again.

  “Yeah, but it’s also the hardest place to track them. It actually went well until there was a bounty hunter more than expected on that team.”

  “Who brought you in?”

  “Dave Ratkins and Mike Matthews.”

  “I’ve heard of Ratkins. They sent that caliber after you? Sounds like you should have been a max prisoner earlier.”

  Keelan laughed drily. “Yeah, well, there’s only one of them now.”

  Jasper almost halted to look at him. “Wow. I was caught on Motáll. Fucker didn’t even let me finish using the toilet.”

  “No honor,” Keelan muttered.

  “Exactly. So, you’re a murderer.”

  Keelan just nodded and looked down a hallway they passed.

  “I wa—”

  Keelan stopped and held up his hand as he thought he heard someone up ahead. A man jumped out with a machete-looking rusty thing in his hand.

  “Give me your valuables!” he snarled, looking from one to the other while fidgeting in too wide a fighting stance. Jasper glanced at Keelan who just leaned against the wall.

  “We just got here. Do you really think the bounty hunters haven’t emptied our pockets?” Keelan asked.

  “Uhm, well... then give me your shoes, I want your shoes!” the man said, fidgeting even more.

  “Okay, but you get to unbuckle them on your own, cause my back hurts from lying on the floor,” Keelan said and stretched his leg out in front of him. The man jumped on Keelan’s foot and fumbled with the buckles, and once he had a firm hold on a strap, Keelan pulled his leg, and thus the man, back before stretching his leg forcefully, sending the man sprawling. Keelan closed in quickly and punched him in the face, rendering him unconscious. He then picked up the machete and looked it over.

  “This could be saved,” he said and looked at Jasper, who smiled goofily.

  “Should we see what else he’s got?”

  Keelan looked at the unconscious man and nodded. Together they emptied his pockets and continued their search for the cells. Passing yet another crossing hallway, they stopped and looked in either direction. Somewhere down one of them, Keelan saw a man sitting on the floor, staring at it. Probably looking for a symbol.

  “This is a nightmare!” Jasper exclaimed and threw out his arms.

  “Keep left,” Keelan said and earned himself a disgruntled stare, but they turned left. Up ahead there was a change in the architecture.

  “That’s a strange angle all of a sudden,” Keelan said and pointed to it.

  “Yeah, everything else is ninety degrees,” Jasper noted, shrugged, and looked around. Keelan glanced his way and looked at the floor.

  Forty-five degrees... three of them? Wonder if the old fart actually said something useful.

  Keelan continued left with Jasper.

  “Hold up. One thing is us keeping left, but we might as well be walking in circles because none of us knows the layout. Let’s pass this one,” Keelan said and looked at Jasper, who just shrugged and followed. Keelan stopped by a hall going right. “Look!” he said, pointing into the air.

  “A window?” Jasper asked.

  “Yeah. Wait here where I can see you.” Keelan continued p
ast the hallway. Another odd angle, one hundred-thirty-five that time.

  Ninety plus forty-five. That was two of them. Wonder if the last is that way? Keelan looked to his right. They’re at the window... if there’s only one window, that is.

  Keelan returned to Jasper, who looked worried.

  “Don’t tell me you bought the whole there’s an exit somewhere.”

  “No, but it would be nice to actually be able to find our way around, and I was just wondering how many windows this place has.”

  “I think there are cells in there,” Jasper said and was about to walk down that hallway, but a man suddenly turned a corner up ahead and ran toward them. He ran right between them and into a wall. Dizzily, he got to his feet, shook his head, and then jumped and turned left in the air.

  “Left! Now I got it... now I got you!” The man stormed off.

  Keelan and Jasper stared after the man, then at each other. None of them said anything as they turned and walked into the hall with the glass ceiling.

  “Yeah, here are the cells. Wonder if any are vacant,” Jasper said.

  “There might be one, since that guy just found the way out.”

  “You look new,” a voice said.

  Keelan and Jasper found a man leaning against a wall, his arms crossed.

  “Yes, do you know where there are any cells?” Jasper asked. Keelan sized the man up and thought he detected a hidden agenda in the way he looked at them, but Jasper seemed to be best pals with all the worlds.

  No wonder he got caught with his pants down—literally even.

  “Come on,” the man said and led them further down the hall. They ended up on a crossroad where the corners were beveled, so they stood on an octagon with a huge octagonal stone in the middle. “This is the original drawing of the center of the prison. This is also where the majority of the cells are divided. You have to find the halls that cross this way, which means this way, this way, this way...” the man said and pointed. “Got it?”

  “Yeah. What about food and shower and stuff?” Keelan asked.

  “Have you passed a faucet yet?” the man asked.