Lazarus One

Chapter 3 - Lazaro

A couple of days of planning, one more for her to smuggle my things from the hospital and we were finally executing the escape plan.

She kept looking back at me over her shoulder. I wasn't moving fast enough and I was certain she was going to begin complaining soon. My thought had been that a wheelchair would make us more conspicuous so I elected to walk. Well, shuffle was more like it. Maybe a wheelchair would have been a better idea, after all, how often did anyone see me up and walking? Though she looked back once again, she said nothing. Her look was full of concern as she watched me shuffle along.

Her steps paused so I could catch up. "Are you all right?"

I didn't have the energy for a response, the best I could do was a thumb up before I waved a hand at the end of the hall where our exit door stood.

"You're pale and sweaty. I'm not accepting that you're all right." She glanced back down the hall in the direction we'd come from. "But we've come too far to turn back now."

Even if she decided on going back I wouldn't have followed. My goal was within reach. There was no way I was going back to that bed. After a slow trek to the door and then a slower one down the stairs, we broke free. The door she'd chosen was a seldom-used employee entrance on one side of the building. The old parking lot had once stood outside the door, but when the hospital expanded the lot moved back behind the building and this door was mostly forgotten. The only surveillance camera was on the front corner of the building facing the opposite direction from the door. Budget cuts killed any plans to add more security cameras. Now that we were outside the building security would lose us. There were no cameras in the parking lot either. Thanks be to the Lord of pencil pushers and cutbacks.

"Come on, my car is in the lot, not far from this end of the building." Her hand moved and she slipped her arm around my waist.

I was grateful for the help. My legs were shaky and I was certain my knees were planning on giving out any minute. Now was not the time for me to attempt any show of male bravado. It would only end up with me flat on my face. The grass beneath our feet did look soft and springy, a little rest might be nice. I discarded the idea. If I fell I wouldn't be getting back up. I knew that.

"I'm beginning to believe that death in this place was the preferable option," I grumbled.

"Stop it. We're nearly there. See, the lot is up ahead." She pointed at the parking lot as if it might encourage me to continue my valiant journey forward.

I stared at the pools of light created by halogens in the lot. Okay, that didn't seem far. I could do this. One little step at a time. One exceptionally slow step at a time. The time between that declaration and us reaching her car seemed to be an eternity, but we did make it and I was still upright.

"Hold on, let me get the door," she told me as I propped my aching body against the back door of the car. It took her a minute to open the door and shove the seat all of the way back to make it easier for me to get in. "Okay, in you go."

I slid into the seat and allowed her to buckle the seatbelt. At least I had clothes, it was one thing my parents did for me. They'd brought me a whole drawer full of things. Not jeans and t-shirts like I would have worn before my illness, but sweatpants, pajama pants, and larger, looser fitting t-shirts. Things that would be more comfortable on my pain-filled body. It had been Holly's idea to smuggle my clothes out of the hospital. If it wasn't for her I probably would have left with whatever I was wearing at the time. At least she had the good sense to think ahead. My only concern had been freedom. As she pulled away from the hospital, I watched it grow smaller in the mirror and disappear into the darkness.

Freedom was mine at last.