Fugitive

Chapter 8

The car park was deserted. Being so far from the heart of the city made the place seem like a ghost town. No one would be here for a long time. Not until after school at least. Then it would spark to life with teenagers with six packs of beer and a few footballs. They would mess around, get a bit drunk and then go home. Some things never change. 

My shoulder was still hurting like a bitch. I parked outside the police station again that night. With a different car, of course. They would notice the same car being there three nights in a row. I also parked in a different place. Different viewpoint. There weren't many places where I could park that still had a good view of the doors into the Sherriff's station, but I tried to have some variation. The car had been stolen. A teenager was my victim. Did him a favor really. The car was a wreck. Something you would see only a teen driving. A teen whose parents couldn't afford to buy him a car for his birthday. Which was me, not that long ago really. There was no way Mom and Dad would buy me a car even if they could afford it. They've always had a 'work for it' kind of attitude. Nothing came for free with them. My first car was still better than this guys. I was pretty cool at the time. Everyone wanted to get a ride with me, in my circle of friends anyway. Until one of my other mates got a bigger car. Then I was pretty much forgotten. Which humors me now. How much I cared when that happened. It was no big deal. Either way, the car I left him was much better.

 I removed the plates and switched them before making the swipe. He was too busy making stupid decisions with his mates to notice his car being stolen. Teenagers can be stupid like that. At times it's like they have absolutely no brains, or they're from some alien planet. I would know. Like I said, nothing changed. The nights before on repeat taunted my brain. I ate a little. I'd bought some takeaways in cash from a Chinese place. Security cameras were fakes. There for show. The company couldn't afford real ones. They were barely hanging on as it was. None of them recognised me. 

From what I could tell they spoke very little English anyway. Wouldn't help the police much. So, I sat there in the car, eating Chinese takeaways, plotting ways to break into a police station to steal evidence. One thing I realized, while sitting there in silence, was that it would be incredible hard to do it alone. I should be searching for help. Of course, I had other friends in this town. I grew up with most of these people. Which is exactly why the police would question them and have them under surveillance. None of them were an option. I had an army buddy up north but I didn't want to go back up there in case the police were still scanning the area. That just left one option. To go it alone.

 Three nights later was when it all went down. The same four cops were on duty. Doing the same crap, they do every night. I had switched cars in a parking lot two days ago. Once again, I switched the plates, this time with the car beside it. Switching plates isn't an easy business. But it was mandatory. It was just past nine. Dark out. I dialed the police station moments later on a disposable phone I purchased at the store down on. I cleared my throat as it was dialing. The woman picked up. She seemed excited to get a call. "Hell" ... I didn't let her finish. "Hello. Hi. I think there's someone in my house. A burglar. My wife's been stabbed. She's bleeding and I can hear banging upstairs. My address is 1451 Halltown Road. Please hurry". I hung up. 

My attempt to change my voice wasn't a total fail but I was no actor. It didn't matter though. The cops were fooled. Three of the four rushed outside and peeled onto the street, two patrol cars between them. Backup was most likely on the way. As soon as the flashing lights had disappeared around the corner I got out of the car. No one was around. My footsteps echoed on the street. Form the window I could see the fourth man disappearing into the other room. The door made very little sound as I opened it. To be honest I was expecting to hear a bell overhead. 

The carpet muffled my footsteps as I followed the man into the other room. He was on the phone with someone. The sheriff most likely. My calculations told me I had roughly thirteen minutes before they realized nothing was wrong at 1451 Halltown Rd, conveniently on the other side of town. The forth man talked for ages on the phone. My watch showed the minutes ticking by. I needed him out of the way so I could find the evidence but I couldn't alert anyone on the other end of the phone that something was wrong. Finally, he hung up. Only eight minutes to go. Quickly I ran into the room and grabbed him by the throat. His hand was on his gun but he had no time to draw it. My hand muffled his yells as my elbow choked him, slowly knocking him unconscious.

 The layout was pretty simple. Sheriff's office was just off to the side behind a glass wall, the blinds drawn closed and the lights inside off. Shadows cast along the hallway under the light. More offices. A small holding room. Three small cells were lined up on the back wall. A window, with bars across of course let in some moonlight. Other than that, it was eerily dark and quiet. There was a bench in each one but that was it. Obviously, it wasn't a long term holding cell. Swiftly, I moved on. A gold-plated sign on one of the doors near the end read 'evidence'. Time was ticking. I placed my hand on the handle and turned. The door was locked.