Hello everyone. My life is everywhere and my brian is not in my head. It feels like it's been eaten by zombies. Which is bad. This chapter is not my best, but it is an update.
Disclaimer: I don't own Prison Break.
I stand in front of the pin up bored staring at the mug shots of the eight escapees. I am soon joined by a female college that informs me. "We've got a blanket on all the hospitals."
"Free clinics?"
"If they've got Band-Aids and Bactine we've got a body in there. The brothers come in for a medical, they're getting in a van, on their way back to Fox River." The woman states and I turn my attention to the other six cons. "Anything break on the others?"
"Eyes and ears on the fallies. So far no hits. Maybe they're just laying low." She says as Alex joins us with multiple files.
"It's the hardest thing in the world for a con to do." He stats. "Nothing. Three things in life are certain, Miss... Lang. Death, taxes, and the fact that a man on the run will make a mistake sometime in the first seventy-two hours. Needing distance, he'll steal a car. Needing money, he'll rob a store. Needing help, he'll trust someone that he shouldn't. And when he does, he will leave behind the crumbs that will take us right to him."
Lincoln POV:
Lean on Michael keeping all of my weight off on my injured leg as he knocks on an apartment door. I listen as the door is unlocked and pulled open by Nika. I limp into the apartment and head straight to the coach. "I'm going to need some cayenne pepper, rubbing alcohol, some towels, and pain killers. Whatever you've got." Michael tells her.
"And some booze."
Nika rummages through her cupboards as Michael kneels down beside me. We begin to roll up my pant leg slowly and I grunt out in pain. "That bitch!" Nika hands me a bottle of liquor and I take a swing from the bottle trying to ignore the pain of Michael dabbing the blood from the wound. "It's fine. Let's keep moving." I tell him then down some pain killers.
"We keep moving, that leg keeps bleeding. That leg keeps bleeding, and we're not getting out of Illinois," Michael says as he prepares to poor rubbing alcohol into the wound. "This is going to hurt." I continue to groan in pain as the alcohol cleans the wound. "This'll seal the capillaries." Michael says as he begins to shake cayenne pepper on the wound.
"Bitch!" I shout in complete agony.
"Who is this bitch he keeps yelling for?" Nika asks in her strong accent.
"No one. Just the woman that shot me." I explain as Michael heads for the door.
"I've gotta go back and get our car." He explains. I go to tell him we can get another car but he cuts me off. "I don't need a car, I need that car. It's got everything we need to disappear."
End of Lincoln POV.
I sit in my office rubbing my temples with my forefingers. All of the stress has given me a migraine and will drive me crazy if I - we - don't get these guys behind bars. There is a knock on the door and it matches the intensity of the pounding in my head. "What!" I snap at Mahone who stands at the door.
"One of the blues hulled in a vagrant a couple hours ago," Alex explains as he places a blue backpack on the desk in front of me. "It seems the man was in possession of an item or two that didn't exactly belong to him." I grab the bag with shaky hands and poor it's contents onto the desk. I reach for the blue passport and flip it open to see the picture of Lincoln Burrows.
"Looks like we've got our first mistake." I grin widely that causes my temples to generate a sharper pain. I crane my neck down over my desk and link my hands behind my head. I feel Alexs' hand place on my back and he places Advil on the desk. He heads for the door but turns around when I don't fallow. "If it's okay, I just need a break." He nods in approval before heading out.
I kick off my heels and curl up on the couch. One of my arms lay limply of the side of the couch as my eyes look at the mug shots. How does it seem escaping from a prison can be easier then catching the people who escaped from it? My eyes slowly as my ears block out the noise from the rush of agents outside. I eventually drift to sleep.
Lincoln POV:
Michael drives down the highway and I reach for the knob to turn on the music. It is to damn quiet. Michael quickly stops me. "Forgot. No radio. Man, it's quiet out here. Inside there was always noise, you know? Someone yelling, guards making rounds. Kinda got used to it."
"You're right. We should go back." Michael states and we both begin to laugh. "Inside, we had the element of surprise. No one knew what we were planning. There's something about this guy and his partner, the ones in the elevator? He's like…It's like he knows where we're going, what we're thinking."
"If that's true, then it's just a matter of time before they finds out about the money in Utah, Bolshoi Booze, our way into Mexico… everything," I state then look down at the clock. "Make the call."
End of Lincoln POV.
I am shaken awake by Alex with a rushed look on his face. "What's going on?" I yawn.
"That voice mail Scofield pre-paid for before he went off to prison…Scofield left a message on it. Something, something about a meeting. Sounded like he was waiting for someone else to check the message and then call him back." Alex explains.
"This prefix. That's the cell phone number. As long as it's turned on…we can track exactly where he is." I say as I jump up off the couch, grab my shoe then run out shoes in hand to the car.
My shoes now on my feet they press down on the gas as we fallow the signal on Scofields cells phone. "Okay, they've moved off the interstate. Heading north on route thirty-eight," Mahone explains as I step down on the pedal, quickly picking up speed. We soon are on route thirty-eight and the GPS beeps. "They've stopped. Couple miles up ahead. There's- there's nothing up there. Why would…what are they waiting on?"
"Or who?" I question as we drive up behind a slow-moving tractor. I hold down the horn, letting it fill the air around us. Mahone reaches down onto the floor of the and lift up a portable police siren to place on the dash. The bacon flashes and I pull up and around the tractor. A cloud of dirt is all we leave behind as we speed in the direction of the dot, marking Scofields cell phone signal.
Out of the clear bright blue sky, it is soon filled with a massive fireball. "Holy Shit!" I gasp as I step down further on the pedal. We race down the road and I hit down hard on the breaks as we reach a bridge. I step out of the black SUV and rush over to the railing to see a car over turned in the river bed bellow. I rush down to the river bed, my heels falling off as I do so.
My bare feet hit the dirt riverbed as I run around the broken glass and to the car. I get down on my stomach, and look into the car. There appears to be no passengers inside; but things aren't always what they seem. The passengers have been liquefied. I crab walk back in horror, one of my hands covering my mouth. Both Michael and Lincoln were probably in the car, and now both of them - gone.
Other agents arrive to check out the scene and I sit back at the side not removing my eyes from the
car my only thought: Poor LJ. First accused of the murders of mother and step father and now the only family he has left is gone.
"Put in all that work, break out of prison, only to end up dead at the bottom of a ditch. Kinda sad, really. So which one of them was it?" Wheeler says to me as he hands me a bottle of water.
"Shales." Mahone replies as I send water down my dry throat.
"Shales? What's - ?" I question.
"Oscar Shales was this guy Mahone tracked for a while. Nasty little bottom feeder. You know the type. He's still on the wind." Wheeler explains to me as Alex walks away mysteriously. I watch him closely as he opens his pen and pours a small tablet into his hand before popping it in his mouth. I don't know what it is, but it wont take me long to figure out.