Quinton paced around his room, eyeing everything on the dresser and floor. Travel light. Only the essentials. He picked up the photo of him and his brother from his nightstand. Life hadn't been fair to either of them. At least his efforts wouldn't have collateral damage, assuming the group tonight didn't get themselves shot. He slipped the picture out of the frame and into a pocket of his backpack.
Navjot knocked on his door. At least he assumed it was Navjot since Amelia had warned Mischa to stay away from their apartment tonight. He flicked the door open and looked at his roommate, bright striped shirt, tattered jeans, and a pair of slippers. Not escape attire.
Quinton sighed. "You're really staying behind? You know you'll be their top suspect."
"It's better than the alternative. I'm too valuable for them to punish severely, even if they suspect me. Besides, I'm an expert at covering my tracks."
"You would really choose this place over life out there? Free of their tyranny."
"I know what's been done to the power supply outside this area. Abysmal. Primitive. No life I'm interested in. And, if you ever need an inside man in the future, you've got meee." Navjot pointed his thumbs to his chest and smiled.
Quinton couldn't bring himself to laugh. If they did come back, it wouldn't be on their own terms.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Navjot asked. "Your life here isn't that bad. I know how you feel about Mischa and everything, but this is a lot of risk for just a girl."
Quinton ran a hand through his hair. "I'm going for myself. There are a lot of things that aren't right about this place. Mischa is a bonus, if by some miracle that ever happens."
Navjot smiled. "I think it will. Just hang in there. I'm sorry this place treated you like they did. You were a great roommate, for the record."
"Thanks." He had been getting weird vibes from both Navjot and Mischa for the past two weeks but neither would speak about it.
Navjot dug around in his work satchel and pulled out a small device that could have been a car key at one time.
"I've synced this up to the silent alarm that the guards trigger for a break in or break out. It will light up when they're activated. With the surveillance looped like it is, and the sensors you and the team have been deactivating, it shouldn't go off either until they notice that four people have been skipping meals or that you're missed at your internship sign in.
"When it goes off, throw it in the opposite direction you intend to take. And really throw it. It has anti-tracking technology, but you can never be too careful. They can still reverse it and find you. Once the officers ask for my help, they'll be monitoring my activities closely and my supervisor will know if I'm evading a task. He's talented like that."
"Thanks, Navjot. We really appreciate everything you've done."
"Yeah, I apologize in advance. I'm going to play you up as a crazy to get myself out of their crosshairs. I'm lucky your background gives me something to work with."
"My background?" Quinton asked. The hairs on his arms stood on edge. Surely, he was being paranoid.
"Uhm," Navjot trailed off as his eyes darted around the room. "I er- well, Mischa was worried about you, and we, or I, had access to our medical files and... I'm sorry." He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at the ground.
Quinton balled up his fists and breathed in. Deeply, slowly, he coached himself.
"Is that why you're staying?"
"Of course not. I'm a complete computer geek, Quinton. It'll take more than a sperm donation to give up my last link to technology, food and shelter. These people might have other good intentions buried deep down. Either way, I'm no saint either."
"Does Mischa know about my past?"
Navjot's frown grew. "I'm truly sorry, Quinton. Listen, it's not a bit deal."
"Fuck," he said, the sound coming from deep in his gut.
"She seemed okay with it."
"She's scared of me, now."
"No, she feels guilty that she found out without you telling her."
"Really," he said with narrowed eyes, "because that's the natural reaction when someone says that you have the makings of being emotionally unstable enough to go on a rampage."
"Either way, you need to focus your mind. Your mission tonight is far from over." Navjot gave his friend a hug and took off.
Quinton shut the door to his room and slid down his wall. He brought his knees to his chest and fought the urge to punch something. No violence. No negative thoughts. Just breathe. It would be okay. She hadn't confronted him about it all week and there was no reason to do it now. Stay strong.
He picked up his bag, heavy with useful items. He glanced in another drawer: the tracker. How could he have nearly forgotten that? Navjot would likely have him throw that out as well if he knew about it. At least it was one less plan Navjot would have to lie about. Quinton would consult with Amelia and gather her thoughts once they were on the outside.
He was instructed to arrive first to work the security panel and the latch for the roof and ensure that nothing was amiss. The halls were empty at this hour as most were at dinner, including the majority of security staff. The entry room itself had false footage running so unless another arrived; his cover would not be blown.
He climbed up the safety ladder that led to the roof hatch and attached the false contacts on either side. He and Navjot had been careful to choose the right materials and weights to ensure that the opening wouldn't have any effect. He checked his pockets for the wire cutters and let out a breath of relief upon realizing that they were still there. Forgetting those would have set them back and Amelia would not have been pleased, Mischa neither, but Amelia was scarier. He climbed back down carefully.
After completing his tasks, he changed into the black clothes intended to blend into the darkness and hid in the selected spot until Amelia arrived. She retrieved another bag that had been tucked away in a nook and handed it to him. April and Mischa came five minutes later with bags of their own. Once everyone had their camouflage wear, they climbed up the emergency ladder. Quinton went first and his hands trembled when it came time to cut the alarm wire.
"Don't worry. I'll mask the wire's defect by switching around the sensors on the program. It'll look like there's a minor problem down on the fifth floor and by the time they investigate, you'll be long gone. The fifth floor is low-priority on a night that they're running a low guard rotation," Navjot's words echoed in his mind.
Sure enough, the wire cut without triggering a sound and the hatch he opened carefully did the same. He jumped out into the fresh darkness. The air felt light in his lungs and the cold tickled his extremities. He kept on hand on the hatch and extended the other to Mischa. She popped out followed by April then Amelia. The oldest woman ventured a glance down and gave him a nod to lower the hatch. He set it back down as carefully as he could as not to disturb his earlier work.
Amelia led the group down a path that everyone but him walked without much interest. His eyes darted in every direction for detectors or waiting for lights to come on. He knew better. It took too much work to maintain electricity and lights outside the facility with the risk of storms and animal activity. Amelia had also gotten word that after too many animal false disturbances, the outdoor alarms had been permanently disabled.
"Twenty minutes until the guards sweep this side. Let's move," Amelia instructed.
He had a hard time believing that things were actually going this well. They walked past greenhouses and fields that climbed down the mountain one step at a time. He expected they would stop to pick things up, but Amelia kept walking further and further.
His heart nearly stopped when he saw the outline of a man standing on the path. Mischa let out a small scream before she thrust her hand over her mouth.
"Relax, we have a little help," Amelia said.
"You couldn't warn us?" April challenged.
"I couldn't risk it."
"You didn't trust us," Mischa said and crossed her arms over her chest.
"Information is a burden. If all you have is the desire and a half-baked plan to escape and you are caught, your life will resume as it is. Once they know you're conspiring with those outside these walls, your punishment would be much more severe. I spared you that fate, should something have gone wrong."
The dreadlocked man flashed them all a smile with teeth that glistened in the moonlight. "I'm Peyton and if you'll follow me, we have a rather long journey ahead."
"Quinton, the alarm sensor. Attach it to Mischa's backpack so you can see it at all times."
He clipped it onto the zipper, a bit guilty knowing that it could also be tracked. His hands stopped shaking once he saw the light was still out. He tried to avoid her eyes, ones that likely held contempt for him and his family given the fact that she knew his past.
Stop, focus on the escape.
Footsteps and voices filled the silence behind them. Everyone stopped in their tracks except for the mystery man. He scaled the wall to their left and helped April do the same. Quinton found a few footholds and pulled himself up, extending his hand to Mischa. They all crammed into a void between two rocks that masked their presence when combined with the darkness.
Quinton's eyes went back to the tracker on Mischa's bag. Was it broken? Did they know already?
"Are you sure you heard something over here? It's probably those damned birds again. I keep telling him we need to get rid of them and have one epic fowl supper."
"It won't be my fault if that suspected escape happens. I do my due diligence."
Mischa's footing slipped and rocks cracked beneath the soles of her shoes. She clutched Quinton's upper arms tightly, and her eyes went wide with fear.
One of the men's lights from below pointed up to their position. Quinton's eyes met with Amelia's, and she nodded. They approached the edge and as the men began to scale the wall, they both swooped down and knocked them to the ground. Quinton picked up the radio and threw it far over the edge.
A familiar click echoed and Quinton's blood ran cold. He didn't have to look to know a cold barrel was pointed at his chest. This was how it must have felt to be in those terrifying hallways with his brother on a rampage. His whole life at the mercy of another. His hands began to shake beyond what he could control.
"Don't do anything brash and we can all walk away from this."
Quinton's heart was leaping out of his throat. He glanced at Amelia who now had a gun in her hand as well. The officer she had attacked had been knocked out cold.
"You're outnumbered, officer. If you want to see another day, I suggest you put the gun down."
"I am authorized to kill, should the situation escalate."
"We aren't accountable to anyone but ourselves. Your bravado won't work here. Put the gun down."
When the officer's head turned to face Amelia, Quinton took the opportunity to kick the gun out of his hands. It flew toward the edge of the path. Both men lunged for it. The officer's arms and elbows shoved him out of the way. The motion sent him rolling until the ground disappeared. His stomach dropped as his arms reached out for anything to slow his descent. His nails scratched against rock and dirt, caking in his nail beds. The muscles in his arm burned as they stopped his body's free fall by clutching a large rock.
"Quinton!" Mischa's panicked voice called from above.
He slowed his breathing as a scramble came from above. The gun flew over the edge and down the path he had nearly taken down thirty feet to the next ledge. The question remained: was it Amelia's or the one the guard had been vying for. More footsteps hit the ground and soon a hand extended out to him.
"Let me help you up," Peyton said.
The man showed more strength than Quinton had imagined to bring him back up to the top. Mischa wrapped her arms around him, but his body was still numb from the fear of the weapon. April and Amelia were tying up the hands and feet of both unconscious officers. Quinton was too shaken up to help hide them in their hiding crevice.
"Luckily, their patrol just started and they won't be missed for a few hours. You did well, Quinton," Amelia said on her way down. Her husband received the opposite look.
The radio echoed, "Control to Officer O'Donnell, do you read me? Have you located the source of the disturbance? Over."
Peyton took the radio. "Office O'Donnell to control, just those damn birds again. Our battery is running low, and we'll only contact should a situation arise. Out."
"Copy that."
Peyton found a discrete place to dispose of the radio and a separate one for the battery just in case the two men woke up. Amelia had used some of the chloroform contained in the guards' packs to keep them out a little longer.
They walked the whole night and some of the morning through the rocky and rugged terrain. Their path often dropped and scaled down part of the mountain, which would have made any land vehicle trailing them difficult. As light slowly brought the sky from black to dark blue, the device began to flash. He quickly unclipped it from Misha's backpack and ran back in the direction they had come from. He grabbed a rock and smashed the device. With all his might, he threw the pieces in a direction that ensured it would also tumble down a cliff upon impact.
"Only one more mile to the cave," Peyton said.
Amelia and the man discussed in hushed whispers. Her frown deepened but she waved the rest of them on. Quinton assumed she was uncomfortable with the sun coming up and illuminating their presence to those who had noticed the escape but they continued on.
The walk to the cave was relatively flat and passed quickly. They each grabbed nearby rocks and boulders to close in the cave Peyton had found. Another man lay sprawled out on the floor. Quinton wondered if he was dead until Peyton began to shake his body.
"Alex, time to share the space with the rest of us."
"Alright," the man grumbled and brought himself over to an area with several bags of food and water.
Quinton's eyes went wide and his stomach grumbled. They hadn't been allowed to stop to eat anything along the way, so this would be amazing. Alex threw them all granola bars and bottles of water.
"Where did you get all of this?" Amelia asked.
"Pagosa Springs. I've stocked and blocked off a couple other caves along the way too as long as scavengers don't find it."
"How's June?" The dreadlocked man asked.
"Alright, she's not too keen on leaving. Told her to stay hidden today and until we get there, just in case."
"We'll have to keep conversation minimal soon. Eat and drink now, because as soon as we hear the helicopter, we're statues," Amelia said.
Quinton sat next to Mischa. Her gaze dipped down to her hands, clutching each other. She quickly looked away once she saw his face. She really did hate him. Especially after he tried to take out that guard earlier, just confirmed those violent tendencies. This week must just have been an act to ensure that he did his part in the escape.
"Quinton, I'm..."
She dropped her head back down and her copper hair fell in front of her eyes. He sighed and took a long drink of water. "I'll sit on the other side of the cave," he muttered.
"No, wait." She paused again as if they had nothing but time. "I, Navjot and I..."
"Found out about my past. I know he told me."
"I'm so sorry," she said and threw her arms around his torso. "Are you upset with me?"
"Am I upset with you? Wouldn't it be the other way around?"
"No, that doesn't change anything about you, just adds to what you've overcome. I was so scared you'd fallen over the edge earlier."
He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. He didn't want to think about what would have happened if the gun went off or if his hand hadn't found a rock to stop his fall. There were still so many things he still wanted to do in life, although many of them obsolete after the recent storms.
Amelia clapped her hands together. "Less talking, more eating and drinking. If you need to meet nature's call, do it now or we'll be confined to a rather putrid cave very soon."
"How long do you intend to stay in here?"
"Forty-eight hours from the first sign that they're near this location. We aren't taking any chances."
"Why that long?" April asked.
"They'll expect us to move under the cover of night or to have made more progress. That makes their search grounds infinitely larger and the odds of them using their resources to pursue us is less likely."
Two hours after Quinton had smashed the device, a chopper motor roared from above. They all grabbed the bags and went into the deepest part of the cave. The darkness would shelter them in case someone removed a rock and looked inside. Whoever would reach them would have to come on foot or drop from the helicopter. The odds were in their favor, but they couldn't afford to get cocky. The quick retreat of the mechanical buzz confirmed that their hiding spot was a good one. The extra mile spent hiking likely helped as well.