Evans death hit us all hard. We'd all got used to him being around, despite him being permanently silent. Without him, it felt like something was missing from our group. I'd turn to look at him, but he wouldn't be there. The advent of his death left a hole in all of our lives, a hole filled with emptiness, refusing to be filled with anything but time. And it filled up damn slowly, but it would never go. I still think about him, sometimes. I wondered what he saw, or what he did when those men took him away. Part of me wanted to know, but another part of me knew that it was a bad idea. We'd always remember Evan. His death was his own choice, and if he felt more peaceful in death than he did in life, I had no right to be angry. I had no right to wish he'd be back. Nevertheless, we all missed him. I have to thank him, though. Thank him for giving us the kick up the ass we needed to escape.
The prison had been widely billed as inescapable, and this was apparent the day after our motley group decided that we'd escape. Hilton and I told Al and Thomas, and they just nodded. They didn't want to be here any more than I did. We never thought what we'd do when we escaped the prison grounds. Guess we'd cross that bridge when we came to it. There was a problem- none of us knew where to begin. We'd seen the movies, read the books, but in reality it was damn hard, 'scuse my French. Our schedule was strict, guards were everywhere we looked. The trucks we went to the mines in were locked tight, the guards didn't give a damn if you screamed you were hurt in your cell. I guess we tried that first. I was In my cell one night, and I keeled over on the floor and screamed as loud as my lungs would permit. I only received shouts to shut up form other prisoners. Seemed the guards just didn't care. Other than that, we literally didn't have an idea. We checked the yard. No luck there. Barbed wire everywhere. Exercise and mining days were the only times we went outside. You had to open the chambers that led outside from the outside. We had basically given up after a week or so.
'We can't do it.' Thomas said one day, walking over to the fence where I was looking at my tree. I didn't look at him, kept my gaze on the tree.
'No such word as can't Thomas.' I said, unconvinced.
'It's impossible, D. No-one has ever done it before.'
'First time for everything.'
'I wish Evan was here.'
'Don't say that.'
The days bled into weeks. Time became irrelevant. Exercise, eat, and mine. Exercise, eat, and mine. Over and over and over. The monotony started to seep in. No photo. I was afraid of forgetting Emma's name, her face, the times we had together. Without my photo, I had nothing to look forward to. The group started to argue, become further apart. We were drifting away from each other when we most needed each other. Now that I look at it, we were all trying to be strong, for Evan. We hardly talked about him, never talked about our feelings. We were guys, we thought that that stuff didn't matter. But because we never talked we became distant. First Al, then eventually Thomas.
'How come you get more?' Thomas asked Al, a sneer on his face.
'I don't you just eat too fast.' Al snapped.
'Shutup, man. You're always like this.'
'Like what?'
'Being a dickhead.' Thomas snarled. 'You were always mean to Evan, joking about him and his disability.'
'What the hell has Ev got to do with anything?' Al stood up.
'Don't you talk about him like that! I bet you killed him, you sick bastard.'
'The hell are you talking about Thomas?'
'Oh, Mr. I killed a burglar in the street. Mr. I killed a guy for stealing my goddamn drugs!'
'That ain't got anything to do with Evan, Mitchell deserved to die.'
'Oh, I bet Evan deserved to die. He take, your drugs, Al?' Thomas spat out Al like the word was poison. 'He come a take some drugs and you took it on yourself to smash his head in?'
'Guys, stop it.' I ventured, not liking to see them fight. Thomas turned to me.
'Shut the hell up, D. You've got no say in this.'
'I was as much Evan's friend as he was yours, and this is just stupid, look at you both.' I yelled.
'This arguments between me and Al, why not go and smooth over your photo, kiss the photo some more?'
'You know it's gone.' I whispered.
'Oh yeah, I forgot, Deibel took it from you. Ripped up now, eh? He did us a favor!'
'Thomas, don't do this.' I tried as hard as I could to reign in my temper.
'Stop it Thomas, he ain't done nothing.' Al said. Thomas turned to him and started shouting. Al shouted back; the words were lost in the volume.
'ENOUGH!' Hilton slammed the table, standing up. My trainer once said there's nothing scarier than a calm man turned angry, and he was right. Hilton's nostrils flared and his face seemed to dare either of them to say anything more. 'Look at yourselves. Evan is dead, there's nothing we can do about that. Arguing won't bring him back, goddamnit. Now you two are going to calm down, shut up and don't argue over stupid things again.'
Thomas and Al never argued over Evan again.
The next time I spoke to Al he had formulated a plan. I was curious and a little bit apprehensive; how could he come up with a plan if me, Thomas and Hilton never could?
'Drugs.' Al grinned.
'Drugs?' I repeated back to him.
'Yep. The guy I do…favors for sometimes, I gave him some of the drugs I've been saving, the one's I got offa him. He says that there's a point at night where the guards switch over. There's a ten minute delay between switches, so he says.'
'Can we really trust this guy?' Hilton asked, ruffling his curly hair.
'Trust him? Hell, no. But it's a whole lot better than nothing. No offense.'
Then it was settled.
The night we made it out was an eventful one. We'd planned it out. One of the guards would signal to Al that the change was happening. He would 'accidentally' leave our doors open. We'd sneak out down to the entrance, grab a few exopacks, and make a run for it. It has to be said, I didn't like it. It seemed too clean, too easy. Was it just going to be give a guard some drugs and he'd give you a get out of jail free card? I didn't think so. But I didn't exactly have a choice. I didn't want to let my friends down, and to tell you the truth I wanted nothing more than to be out of the prison. It had become stuffy and felt too small, like it was caving in on me. This was my only chance, and I intended to take it. So I waited. Waited until I heard the little hiss to signal that the guards were gone. I stood up and pushed my hand on the door. To my surprise, it opened. I still didn't like it. The prison floor was so much different at night, with nobody around. It's like seeing an abandoned city in those zombie movies. The only thing worse than a building full of people is a building with no people. The prison wasn't completely dark, as lights from various sources shone dimly in the night. I made my way to the prison floor, being careful not to make any noise. I was scared.
Sweat was trickling down my back as I saw Hilton and Al next to the chamber that led outside. Thomas wasn't there. I nodded a silent hello at them. Al was positively beaming. I gave a nervous glance to Hilton. He was featureless. Al handed me an exopack. Something was definitely wrong here. I put my exopack on anyway. The world grew slightly misty as viewed through the dusty plastic. I coughed. Al gave me a look as he punched in a code that opened the door. I licked my dry lips. How did he get the code? We walked into the red room and the pressure started to shift. The door behind us closed with a hiss. I felt sick. The walls around us were littered with buttons and contraptions. As the light turned green the door in front of us opened. The light shimmered as I saw the ground outside. The way to freedom. My mind was awash with questions, but they all evaporated when Al shouted
'Run!'
and I ran for my life. My legs seemed to have a mind of their own as they took me from the prison and onto the gray ground ahead. My mind closed out all possibilities as I rushed through the corridor of fence, going anywhere but the prison. I was happy, ecstatic. My stomach did flips and I laughed. I was leaving. It was going to be all right! Why did I ever doubt Al? I licked my lips and tasted freedom. It felt good just to be somewhere other than the mine or the prison. I ran and ran and I wouldn't have noticed the scream if it wasn't so loud.
'Dwight! It's Deibel!' Hilton screamed in my ear, pointing to our right. Al was nowhere to be seen. And Hilton was right. Deibel was stood to our right, smiling. And he had a pistol in his hand.
My mind filled with panic when I saw the gun. If it weren't for Hilton, I would be dead now. He grabbed me by the collar and pulled me to the ground behind a corner of a building separate from the prison. No Guards were anywhere. It was almost as if Deibel had wanted the place to be clear. We ran for our lifes, legs on fire and heads swimming. My breathing was hard and labored, my stomach getting ready to hurl its contents inside the exopack. Hilton was at my side as we ran forward towards a broken part of the fence. Beyond it was a building. My ears rang as I heard the gun fire and a bullet slamming into the wall behind me. I ran faster and jumped high when I reached the fence, adrenaline pumping. My sweaty hands grabbed onto the links and I jammed my feet into the gaps.
'Hurry!' Hilton yelled. With a roar, I pitched my leg over the fence and dropped, falling onto my side. Pain flared into the side that I'd landed on, but I had no time to listen to pain. Seeing that Hilton was on the other side as well, I ran towards a broken window attached to a crumbling building. Deibel fired the gun again and the bullet went not three inches from my feet. I ran more, my legs hurting like hell. When I got to the window I leaped in head first. I rolled when I landed and I hit my head against a ledge. I winced and turned onto my back. I tried to get up, but I was too tired. I strained my legs, telling them to co-operate. Hilton climbed through the window and jerked me up quickly. The room had seen better days. Computers were broken or littered around on the floor, wires hung from the ceiling. We ran through this facility, the pressurized doors opening easily. We ran through the twisting corridors, our footsteps echoing in the metal building. We made a left, then a right then I lost track of where we were going. We entered a room with long tables and chairs. Reasonably confident Deibel had lost track of us, we scrambled underneath a table and waited. I breathed heavily, my chest heaving up and down. I forced myself to be quiet. I exchanged a worried look at Hilton. I opened my mouth before I heard the slow footsteps echo in the room. I mouthed 'where are we?' at Hilton but he didn't understand.
'Helllooo!' The voice rang out. No mistaking it- that voice was Deibel's. I tried to be as quiet as possible. I wanted to run out there and beat him up, I thought I could take him. Then I told myself no, he has a gun. The footsteps grew a little louder, ringing of off the walls.
'You're in Hells Gate somewhere!'
My hands were trembling. Deibel spoke again.
'I'm going to find youu!' He called out mockingly. I heard him knock over a chair.
'Goddamnit Dolton! Dolton, how was it like when you killed your wife?' I bit on my tongue. 'Did it feel good?' Hilton looked deep into my eyes and shook his head slightly. 'Did it feel good killing your wife and daughter?' Hilton grabbed hold of my shoulder, still looking into my eyes. 'C'mon, did you get a thrill when you stabbed her?' He laughed a cruel laugh, which echoed louder than his feet. He continued insulting me, provoking me, until I heard the footsteps fade. I breathed out slowly. We were safe. I smirked at Hilton and shuffled my way out from under the table. I nearly cried at what I saw. Deibel was standing over me, a huge grin on his face.
'Found you.'
I felt numb when he picked me up off of the ground. Felt numb when he took me and Hilton out of Hells Gate. Felt numb at the fact that I wasn't dead. Felt numb that I was directed back to my cell with a wink. Felt numb that nothing happened.
Or so I thought. We didn't speak at all for the next few days. Al wasn't in the mess hall. We didn't answer Thomas' questions. I cried at night.
Then the men came. The ones that took Evan away. And they had Al and Deibel with them. They seemed to walk purposefully slowly. Al looked over at everyone and smiled. When they reached us I wasn't surprised.
'Well, gentlemen,' Deibel said to us. 'Old Al here struck a deal with us. You're going to go and talk it over with these nice men. Me and Al are going to my office.' The man with the moustache and the short one didn't smile or show any emotion. Neither did I, nor did Hilton. We both looked at each other and stood up. Like Evan, we didn't say anything. Like Evan. They lead us off. Thomas tried talking to us, and I just said:
'It's going to be alright.' I thought I saw a tear in his eye, but it might have been the light.
So the men lead us off. The mystery was about to be solved. All I could think about was Evan McCarthey, and how he killed himself only days after being taken away. I hoped it would all end right then.
It didn't.
