Our Perfect Never •||• stony

Part XXIX - My Box Prison

-=Tony=-
I wake up the same way I have every single other day I spend here. In a cold, dark room with nothing and nobody. Except this is different.

My body is vertical, and instead of a five by five square meter room, it's a rectangular prism with padding along the sides, just big enough for me to shuffle around in a circle without hitting the edges. There are a couple of slits in front of my face that I assume are to prevent me from suffocating.

The only comfort I have felt for weeks is some cheap godforsaken foam! The box heaves before I can think further on the matter and my mind is sent on a frenzy, possible situations whizzing through my head as the movement stops.

I brace myself on the walls as I hear voices outside. Too muffled to understand, but enough to know how many people are there. Four? Or maybe five? The scent of pine and evergreen makes me realise that I am outside.

What are they doing? Transferring us? Transferring me? They would be smart to, after all, they have been found out. I just don't understand why they chose to do it now.

The box moves all of a sudden but this time smoother than the clumsy work of the people outside. I hear soft whirring and more muffled voices, but this time the voices are frustrated. I peak out of the box and see more metallic boxes, stacked side-by-side across from me. We all seem to be in a large truck with a silver lining.

Inmates? Wait, are they moving all of us? At the same time? Not the smartest move. Time passes of packing more inmates in the truck before the door slams shut and everything goes dark.

My eyes search around frantically along with my hands feeling around the edges of the box. The truck starts to move and I try to keep calm. There must be something loose, a door, a latch, something to move.

Nothing. I slump my head against the surface behind me and think. How would they get me in here if there wasn't any sign of a door or hatch? But if I get out, what will I do next?

I'm sure that Leviathan has customized the transfer boxes to suit the captives. People with enhanced strength, like Steve, would have reinforced boxes, so if they tried to break out they would have trouble.

But then again they keep underestimating him. He told me about what had happened in the room with him and Chayse; apparently, they didn't make restraints that could hold him.

This gets me thinking whether or not they made Steve's transfer box reinforced enough. There could be a physical loophole for him. I press my hands against the foam and sigh.

**

The inmates start to complain after a couple of hours and I roll my eyes tiredly. Standing vertically takes all of your energy and groaning and moaning doesn't help me to help.

Chatter can be heard from the people driving and a couple times one of them has had to bang on the sliding doors to shut the inmates up. It doesn't help either. I heard their radios a couple of times throughout the entire trip and it's mostly just to check in I guess.

It goes off again and I press my ear against the slits of my box prison, trying to listen in to the radio.

"Hey guys, the engine seems to be playin' up on truck D, over." The voice shocks me out of my fatigue and I grin.

He found the loophole. The passenger and the driver share a short conversation before the passenger picks the radio up.

"Uh, yea truck E has the mechanic just pull over, 'ey. We'll check ya up and catch up with the others later, over." He says.

The rest of the drivers agree over the radio and soon we are rumbling to a stop. The driver and passenger speak to each other before hopping out. The inmate's mumble but try to listen outside.

Everything is silent until a man's voice is muffled and there is struggling on the dirt. The inmate's murmurs get louder as footsteps walk towards the back of the truck.

The back swings open and someone jumps in, walking slowly along the box prisons, ignoring the inmates yelling at them to let them out. When they get in my field of view I know for certain that it's Steve.

His hair is tousled and his facial expression is unbelievably calm as he checks every single slit in the boxes.

"Cap..." My voice is quieter than I thought it would be but he still hears and locks eyes with me, taking the last few steps to my box.

"Tony. Are you okay?" His face doesn't change from his placid look as he moved closer to me.

"I will be when you help me-" A click goes off and the front of the box comes off, sliding to the side and exposing me to the air, "-out."

Steve smiles and stands back slightly, putting his hand out to help me out, which I accept. I look out to the back of the truck, which opens out to a two-lane road in the middle of a forest.

I walk forward slowly, remembering my fatigue. The inmates are yelling now, but they are hushed when we close the door of the truck once we get out.

***

Merry Christmas everyone. I'm going to sleep now but I promise that there will be heaps more chapters in the next few weeks that you can expect.

Hope you enjoyed.

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- Ant and Cat