Chapter 25: Escape

Drops of water dripped down my face and onto my shirt. That, coupled with the buckets our captors were holding, made it pretty clear what they'd done.

I was still a little more disoriented than I would have liked, what with being so rudely disrupted from my crazy-weird walk down memory lane of sorts. I shook my head in an attempt to regain my thoughts, and found that something was different about my regular consciousness. I had a slight headache, but that wasn't all. That was normal. The other thing wasn't.

It almost felt like there were added compartments in the back of my head. Or like they had always been there and had just been unlocked. They felt filled, but dark and cobwebbed, and I could've taken the time to dig deeper, but I didn't have that time. I dismissed it, but filed it away for later musing. I had to get back on focus. I took a deep breath and took in our captors.

I assessed them. One was tall and lanky, although not quite as tall as Jasper, or as built. The other was also skinny, but had a quite scrawny look to him. He was shorter, and shifted around on his feet.

Both of them had expressions of apathy, but I could detect traces of sorrow, maybe pity or regret. They were most likely part of James' little gang. Most of the members were only with him because of blackmail, or the threats he made. While this was common knowledge, he liked to pretend that they were loyal to him willingly.

However, if we could find a way to use that little fact to our advantage, we could keep this from turning into a bloodbath. More like a covert operation and less like an all-out clash.

I saw a switchblade, cheap and seldom used, on the taller one, and a gun on the scrawny guy. I thought back to anything at all I'd picked up on deduction and tried to focus all that on these two goons. I didn't get a clear glimpse of their weapons, so the specifics weren't available to me. The gun looked like a pistol, probably off the black market. And if it was, then all identifying marks were probably filed off.

My friends knew who was behind this, and could get the police involved as a plan D. James and Victoria were only really concerned with them as bait. They were obsessed with only me, as well as Jasper. What that meant for my friends put a icy fist in my gut. I only got a glance, so I couldn't clearly see what exact make or model it was. He also had a burner cell, most likely to keep in touch with James. Must be their means of communication, so they could hear his orders and check in. The one with the switchblade was wearing a dark green parka, the kind you see for pennies at the back of thrift stores. As a matter of fact, all their clothing looked worn and inexpensive. That was to be expected and certainly fit the profile of James' little gang. Mr. Switchblade was African American and had a cigarette burn on his left hand and callouses on both.

Mr. Gun was Caucasian, had one light blue eye and one a bit darker blue. He looked to be a bit older, and maybe the one in command out of the two. Probably why he got a gun, too. He had dirt stains on his hands, but they didn't have a lot of built up callouses like Mr. S. They set down their buckets and left the room, leaving just us in the dim room.

I stared at my friends. They seemed fine. A little disoriented or groggy, but there were no obvious physical injuries. I would've asked them a lot more questions, but the tape wound several times over my mouth (so stereotypical) made it hard to do just that. We were in a kind of semi-circle formation, backs a few feet from the wall facing the entrance.

Jasper was on my right, and we looked at each other. From the looks of it, he'd been buried in his mind as well, because I'd definitely felt a link of some sort while unconscious. Kind of a hum at the back of my mind, that felt inexplicably like Jasper. Which was weird enough, but lately I'd seemed to have grown used to weird. No time to think about that. How to escape? Remember, this is life or death, and you have to keep your friends safe.

I analyzed our bonds, testing the strength of the rope and the knots. I saw Jasper doing the same beside me, and the others starting to struggle blindly against the rope. I refocused on my escape.

My hands were tied behind the back of the chair, and I could wiggle them, but not enough to release them. Mistakenly, though, they hadn't tied my hands to the actual chair. I slowly moved them up the back of the chair, hoping that the back of it wasn't too tall. I felt the top edge, and breathed a sigh of relief. Leaning forward as much as the duck tape around my waist could allow, I slid them just a bit further. I ignored the protest my joints were giving me, and slipped my hands off the chair's back.

I shoved my hands behind my back, forcing the duck tape to dig into my torso. I then maneuvered them so I could reach the edge of said tape. I fumbled with it until I had a good amount unstuck, and then tried my best to unwrap it. I was partially successful, so I tried my luck with forcing the rest of it off. I lunged forward with my upper body. No change. So I tried again, and this time, it came off.

It was still stuck to my shirt, but I didn't care about that, focusing on getting the knife out of my bra. I was thankful they hadn't taken it. I could feel that they'd searched me and taken the majority of my weapons, but from the weapons I could still feel hidden away, they hadn't ventured into my private areas. That was something to be grateful for. I saw no choice but to lean forward a bit and push my breasts together, so that it dropped out of the bottom. It felt incredibly awkward. I knew I looked ridiculous, too, as the others were giving me weird looks, but I succeeded. It dropped onto the floor with a small clang. I scooted the chair forward, wincing every time it made a sound. But I kept going, and eventually, I had it in a good enough position to be able to reach my knife.

I strained myself, a surge of adrenaline rushing through me when the tips of my fingers brushed against the handle. Fumbling somewhat desperately, I managed to grasp it, the cold, hard feeling reassuring and familiar on my palm.

I quickly but awkwardly cut the binding on my hands, and the rest was easy going from there. After all, opposable thumbs are one big perk to being a human being. I ripped the duck tape holding my thighs to the seat of the chair off, and started working on the rope securing my ankles to the legs of the chair.

As soon as I was free, I yanked the tape off my mouth, ignoring the stinging, and rushed over to Jasper to help him the rest of the way out of the bindings. He'd gotten his torso and lower body free, so I just had to free his hands. I sped around to our friends, releasing them, as Jasper pulled a knife similar to mine out of his boot and one out of his waistband…or rather, it seemed he had hidden it there, but it had been jostled and fallen lower… and helped.

I guessed the guys didn't want to go anywhere near another man's happy trail. And as for the boot thing, well that was just sloppy.

Shame for them, damn lucky for us, huh?

Hello, my personal narrator.

Oh, please, don't be silly. Call me Skydd.

I wasn't aware that voices in your head could talk in accents.

Yeah, well, I'm not just a voice. I'm a part of your gift.

My what? You mean that thing that…I…used in the Newborn Wars?

I'm supposed to keep you safe. So, don't worry I'm not crazy. Your gift, it's hard to explain but…well I'll tell you more when you manage to get out of this place. You do have a plan of some sort, don't you?

Bits and pieces. Mostly just wing it.

Great. Try not to get us killed again will you? I'd like to get a break from all the awkward-first-parts where you have no clue about your true self.

Okay, sure. Just shut up for a while and let me concentrate on reality, as in right now reality, will you?

Sure, sure, sure. You'd better hurry it up before they come back.

I couldn't hear anybody coming back yet, but I didn't waste any time, rushing as I cut through their bonds. Once they were free I hurried over to the opposite wall. There was a small rectangular opening in the concrete wall that served as a window, but there was a scratched up sheet of either glass or plexiglass.

The window would be just big enough for a very slim person to slip through it. Most likely Alice. Hello, possible means of escape. I smashed my knife handle against it with enough force to shatter it had it been glass, but it didn't give way. Instead, the force was dispersed along the surface of it.

"Just great," I sighed in frustration, "Plexiglass."

Jasper squinted at it, then hefted one of the plastic and metal chairs and slammed a leg into it. It scratched it a bit, but it wasn't too promising. If we didn't find a way to enforce more damage, James' people would come looking for the source of the noise. It seemed too thick to outright break without generating too much sound. We weren't exactly that well equipped either.

I listened hard, but didn't hear anybody heading this way. They probably figured we were trying to get out of our bonds and banging the chairs against the floor or something. Or maybe they felt sorry for us, or maybe they were just simply lazy. Whichever it was, I wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth, as the old saying goes.

I stood on the chair to examine it more closely. It was old, cloudy, and scratched up but still seemed near impossible to break in our circumstances. Instead, I looked at the glue. It was a different type than the kind I saw on other plexiglass windows. Even taking into account its possible old age, it didn't look right. It was in pretty bad shape. It looked like it had been shoddily, wrongly, and poorly done when the window was new, and since then it'd only gotten worse thanks to the elements. Maybe…I used the tip of my knife to start chipping away at it. I found that this method might just actually work.

Gesturing Jasper over to help, we got to work digging at the glue. We were working as covertly but swiftly as possible, our friends gathering behind us to try to help however they could. They picked at any of the looser pieces and stuff like that, aiding in our only possible way out.

After we had one side completed, I heard the sound of footsteps down the hall. One was slightly off, like the owner favored his left side but tried to hide it. Most likely some type of old injury or physical defect he kept to himself. I recognized it from earlier, the scrawny one. I glanced at Jasper to confirm, and we both hurried over and directed our friends to their chairs. We tried our best to make it look like we hadn't been able to get ourselves out, using the cut duck tape, overlapped slightly, as makeshift fake bonds. It wouldn't hold up under scrutiny, but hopefully they wouldn't notice. Then we ran into a problem.

The bonds would be hard to fake without someone helping you, but one of us would have to go last. The footsteps were approaching louder now, nearing our end of a seemingly long hallway or corridor. I shoved Jasper into his chair, arranging the fallen tape on him, and then sat down in my chair just as they started to open the door. I started shifting, then pretended like I had just broken free as they entered the room. Still acting, I looked at them wide eyed in surprise, and then re-drew my knife. They acted on instinct, moving back several paces. I sped across the room and drew the gun from the tall one's belt before he could get to it. I also disarmed the shorter one with the bad right leg, tossing his switchblade in Jasper's direction. Holding the gun steadily, I hid my knife back in my bra. I then used my other hand to steady the weapon, gesturing with it towards the door. They got the message, slowly raising their hands and making their way into the room. I shut the door behind us.

"Well, that went better than I thought," I muttered to myself. Using the gun, I forced the two guys into the seats vacated by Jasper and I. The others crowded behind me, easily breaking free of the ruse. Still directing the gun straight at them, I silently nodded towards them. Jas, with our nonverbal communication awesomely efficient, went over to search them for weapons. While he didn't molest or grope them, he did make sure not to make the same mistake they had with him.

I hid a smile. They certainly weren't rookies like the Unnamed Henchman who'd been sent on a failed-from-the-start mission to spy on us. It should take more than some movie-style intimidation with them, and I was itching with revenge for the taking of my pseudo-family.

I knew that I should hold back since they clearly weren't willing participators in James' little game. He was the one responsible. But right now we had the upper hand and I was going to see just how much of an advantage we could use it to.

And if that meant a little torture, well, I had some very creative ideas. I was an angst-riddled teenager with a shrink's wet dream for a mind, you know. The perks of being through some traumatic experiences, and having multiple lives for as long as you remember is some great inspiration. After all, I'm sure there are plenty of memories of torture at some point. I seemed to have had a lot of past lives, and chance was I had plenty of material to go on.

This should be fun.

AN/: So, a bit shorter. But it's the middle of the night and even though I have school tomorrow, I stayed up typing this so that I'd get to where I wanted to, updates-wise. That's gotta count for something, right? Yay. I should probably got to sleep now, since my cough's still really bad. Yeah. Okay.

Oh, before I forget, I did some major reorganizing of my previous chapters. No major changes in the story so you don't need to go back and reread it or anything. Just some tidying up on my end. The reason I'm typing it here is because I want to be sure I didn't screw it up, so if you happen to notice I put some text where it didn't belong or messed up some chapters, please let me know.

Okay, I'm off to sleep for real this time. Thanks, and uh, yeah. I need to get to slumber-ville before I really start to embarrass myself with my tired mind.