Chapter 7 – Jailbird

"Stupid prison." Duck says to himself inside his cell which is concrete on 5 sides and a clear plastic front which acts as a door. His casual beach attire has been swapped for a fluorescent orange one piece clothing to make prisoners easily findable. "I'm not meant to be confined in this tiny space next to murderers and thieves. I'm as hardworking as any other Acmetropolis citizen."

"Hey, Duck, shut up!" A thin tall man in his early 30's with short cropped dark red hair on top and shaved on the sides shouts across to his opposite cellmate.

"How does everyone in this city know my name?" Duck asks to himself, but it's overheard.

"I don't know, because you're a duck?" He replies condescendingly.

"That has nothing to… oh." Duck says., realising his point. "So, what are you in for? How can we escape this rotten place?"

"It's just a holding cell, it's only going to be a few hours so just shut up!" He shouts back, annoyed at his constant chatter.

"Seriously, what's the regime? How many guards are here and where are they stationed? Details, I need details." Duck asks, getting right on the nerve of the prisoner.

"It's just a holding cell, the court's upstairs, you sit trial, pay a fine or whatever, then leave. It's pointless to escape." He explains.

"A few hours too long." Duck replies back.

"Guards! Can you mute this guys cell?!" He shouts, hoping that someone will hear him. A few seconds later, all the noise from Duck's cell is cancelled out by white noise, meaning his shouting is reduced to a quiet whisper.

"You think you're funny?" Duck shouts, continuing on because he doesn't know that he can't be heard. "You're a piece of work, who would prefer staying inside these cells?"

The prisoner makes a taunting talking gesture with his hand before sticking his fingers in his ears to communicate that he can't be heard.

"Oh, you want to play a game of charades do you?" Duck angrily shouts. "How many words?"

The other prisoner stops paying attention to what Duck is doing and faces the opposite wall.

"Playing hard ball huh? Come on, give me clues." Duck says, but the other prisoner does not move, facing the opposite wall. "You're despicable, I'm going to come over to your cell and…"

He would have completed his sentence had he not begun to teleport to the place he wanted to. He lands right inside the opposite cell, standing right behind him. Duck taps him on the shoulder from behind.

"Ahem." Duck says. "How many words?"

"What?" The prisoner asks in fear, moving himself away from Duck and into a corner in response to the unusual occurrence. "How did you get in here?"

"I don't know, don't care, now how many words?" Duck asks.

"What? I don't know." He says in fear, like he's being tortured under interrogation.

"Really? You have the audacity to make all of these visual cues and give me no clues." Duck tirades.

"No, I just wanted you to be quiet, please, get away from me." He explains, making Duck a little bit more uncomfortable about his misinterpretation.

"Okay, you could have just told me." Duck says before teleporting out of this cell into his own cell where he still can't be heard by anyone on the outside. "But you could try something else, your clues are a bit off."

Duck sees the man says something before standing down to look across the to the cell of a Duck who can freely teleport and yet can't or won't use it to escape. He doesn't look like the type of person who seems to be driven by strong moral principles.

"Now, if I can get in there then maybe I can get out of this cell and get out of this prison. Let's see, which direction is out?" He asks himself, so teleports out of his cell and into the corridor as a starting point. Other prisoners begin to take notice and come close to their cell fronts to take a look. Duck walks along the corridor to what he thinks is the exit. He reaches the end of the corridor without any suspicion or indication that the police have caught him. Once he gets to the intersection, he looks for any guards that might be around but can't see or hear any coming this way. Slowly he wanders the hallways being the bane of every prisoner still behind the walls as he roams freely whilst the rest are trapped. After two minutes of wandering the basement holding cells of the courthouse, he finds what he believes to be an exit; a concrete staircase leading upwards to what he thinks is ground level. He climbs the stairs to the top and sees that it leads to another holding cell behind a clear plastic enclosure where people are tried from the courthouse. However, the bench seating, the judges stand and everywhere else inside this room is empty.

"A little strange." Duck comments to himself. "Wait, I need to get changed out of this prison outfit otherwise people will find me."

He teleports back underground in order to look for his clothing. He wanders around the LED lit concrete passageways, looking for a storage room. On the way, he passes another row of prisoners in their holding cells; not caring one bit to even think of letting them out as well. He finds a locked door which is of interest to him, even though there is no label or placard on the door which clearly shows that this is the place where his clothing is kept; it seems like the place where they'd keep it. He walks up to the door and tries to open it normally but finds it to be locked.

"Oh yeah, locked doors can't hold me." Duck taunts towards the inanimate door before trying to teleport into the room. He enters into the pitch black room with no indication of where the lights are.

"Great, now I can't see." He comments out loud, quickly the motion sensors detect his movement and turn the lights on. Duck becomes suspicious that someone must be watching him. "Who did that?"

He looks around the small room with a small full of small lockers about 40cm high and wide with hard steel doors each with a 6 digit number engraved on the front. The numbers look somewhat familiar, they represent the prisoner's numbers. Duck stretches his uniform so he can see what his own number is, he has to turn his head awkwardly to the side so he can see around his beak.

"Okay, 3…26…43…7." Duck quickly sees that the lockers are in numerical order, with lower numbers closer to the door and higher ones are further away. A few seconds later, he finds his locker, only to find that it's at the very top in a place that he can't reach.

"Great." He says exasperatingly. "Way to think of the vertically challenged."

He tries to jump for it but can't reach the button that releases the magnetic lock to the door.

"I need plan B." However, that would involve getting someone taller to help him reach, which he doesn't like the sound of, but he can't think of another option. He teleports back over to the cell opposite his with the man inside very surprised to see him.

"I need your help." Duck says, not sounding desperate but more out of necessity. He takes the man with him as he teleports out of the cell and back into the locker room. "Now, can you open that locker up top with his number on it?" Duck says, point to the number on his uniform.

"How? What? It's not possible?"

"Of course it is, you're tall enough." Duck replies. "Now, get it out for me otherwise I'll put you back in your cell."

"Wha, okay. Hold on." he says, dismayed at his current situation. He reads the number on Ducks uniform and finds the locker, opens it and passes down the plastic sealed tub containing Duck's personal belongings onto the floor.

"Good." Duck says as the man doesn't know what to do next, he doesn't know of the lax security in this prison.

"Can you put me back in my cell?" He asks.

"I don't know why you'd want to do that, there're no guards around but, hey, it's your choice." Duck says, grabbing the wrist of the man so he can take him back into his cell. They both arrive back in the cell where Duck lets go of him before teleporting away without hearing the retaliation of what the man had to say next.

"Idiot." Duck says as he gets his prison uniform off in the privacy of this room and puts his clothes back on. Once done, he teleports out of the locked locker room and back at the base of the stairs where he found the exit before. He climbs the stairs and goes back into the clear booth inside the empty courtroom to take a second look around before teleporting out of the room and into the corridor in between the bench seating inside the courtroom. From there, he has a door to his left and right but he sees the large double doors directly in front of him calling for him to move through towards freedom. He walks through the door like he owns the place, pushing the doors open simultaneously with his hands, expecting a similar pattern as before with no one in the adjacent room. However, he doesn't have the chance to move or react to the waiting room packed with police officers and prison guards. Duck is tranquilised with 3 darts in the posterior, falling to the floor like the levels of smugness and invincibility did for the brief second he was conscious of his walk to capture.

"He's got 30 minutes, let's get him moving."

Two heavily armed officers scoop Duck up off the floor quickly whilst another 6 follow behind. 30 seconds later, the courtroom resumes as if there was no interruption and the holding cells are tended to.