She heaved a sigh of relief when she entered the closet. It was fairly large, more like a small room, and it was vacant, with a stark gray uniform draped over a stool. Though she could obviously have easily taken out any individual she happened to come across, such a confrontation would no doubt lead to swift recapture. It was to her benefit to go as long as possible without running into anyone.
She quickly discarded the military fatigues they'd dressed her in and pulled on the janitors' jacket, whose sleeves she needed to roll up slightly. She moved on to the pants, which had a patch advertising some band sewn onto them, and banged her fist against the wall when they slid off her hips to rest in a heap about her ankles. She searched the room frantically for a savior, and found it in the form of a large, old-fashioned mop, from whose head she ripped a piece of rope to use as a makeshift belt. The pants continued to sag, but at least they stayed up. She used a pencil to hold her hair in a messy bun atop her head, which she secured with the uniform's cap, then flipped up the jacket's collar to cover her barcode. She briefly checked her appearance in the shiny surface of an aluminum wash bucket, then, satisfied, inwardly reviewed her escape plan and ventured back out into the hall.
*******
They drove in silence, bothering not even to glance at each other. Both had their doubts and feared for the worst, but neither wanted the other to know. It was better that each thought the other man was certain and fearless. It was better because otherwise, someone might break down and they might have time to reconsider and they might call off the mission. With such high stakes, that was not an option. Failure was not an option.
It was for this reason that neither was aware they both shared the same nagging sense of dread. Each had this awful feeling like something was about to go horribly wrong, but they figured it was just nerves so it went ignored. The silence deafened, the tension mounted, and the thought of hanging oneself suddenly became inexplicably prominent...
*******
Something wasn't right.
The door had a window at the top, and all she could see through it was the opposite wall. Sure, she was still a good 40 feet away, and they could both very well be sitting down. But...something about it was extraordinarily unsettling, so she picked up her pace.
"God dammit!" she exclaimed as she reached the door and peered inside. On the floor lay X5-734, handcuffed and unconscious, with X5-452 nowhere to be seen. She nervously fished through her pocket for her extra set of keys. The lock wouldn't turn, though, and she realized with dismay that the escapee must have broken her off her copy. The girl had definitely been underestimated...but though it frustrated and angered her to no end, it also filled her with a sick sense of pride. X5-452 certainly was living up to her potential, moreso apparently than even X5-599. They'd had high hopes for him, but he hadn't done anything like this. He couldn't...he was too foolishly resistant ever to gain enough freedom to attempt it. He'd sacrificed something to his younger sister, a cunning and strength sadly lacking in the current X5s. All the more reason she needed to be caught, subdued and reprogrammed immediately.
Renfro reached for the alarm on the wall, then thought better of it. Such would not only alert security to X5-452's insubordinance, but also warn her that she'd been found out. Instead, Renfro removed her cell and phoned the head of security.
*******
Cid Watkins pushed his cell back into the deep pockets of his janitor uniform and went back to work. Be on alert, they'd said. One of the X5s was attempting escape, they'd said. She was about 5 ft. 7, with brown eyes and dark brown hair falling just below her shoulders. Wouldn't be difficult to recognize, either, as all other X5s had been ordered to return to their barracks and remain there until further notice. Hmph. Like he, a lowly, unlucky janitor was likely to spot her. He never got any breaks. He certainly wasn't about to start today.
He heard footsteps ahead of him and looked up to see a fellow janitor turning from a hall a few yards away and heading off opposite from him. The patch on the leg told him immediately who it was: Samuel. Strange guy, Samuel. Liked to be called his full first name. Hated it when you called him otherwise. Also was the only one who'd ever bothered to "decorate" his uniform. No one else saw the need or even wanted to, but he'd gone right on and sewn that patch, to the displeasure of the director. She'd let him keep it, though, cuz it wasn't like a huge deal or anything and she had more important things to worry about. Anyway, the point is, he stood out. You could tell him from a mile away. Which is probably why it registered so quickly with Cid that something was very different. For one thing, the man had apparently shrunken in size. Then there was the fact that he didn't have a broom or bucket or anything like that. Of course, the fact that his shift had ended something like 45 minutes ago was fairly prominent as well. Strange stuff, even for Samuel.
"'Ey, buddy!" Cid called down the hall after the man. "Samuel! Yo, Samuel!"
*******
"SAMUEL!"
Max flinched as the name was called out once again. //Man, get a clue,// she thought. //The guy obviously isn't up to...// She ceased moving as it dawned on her and she looked down to spy the name patch over the jacket's breast pocket. It read SAMUEL HARDING.
"Crap, that's me," she whispered to herself. She swallowed hard as she heard the man jogging to catch up with her, then began walking again when he tried to sidle up beside her.
"Samuel, what's with you? You sure are acting strange."
"Well, um..." Max mumbled gruffly, deepening her voice, "...I've got a, uh, some kind of bug. *cough* I'm cutting out early." She thought for a second, then added, "but don't tell anybody, man! I'm definitely not in good condition to be chewed out by that blonde bitch." She was relieved when she sensed that he'd stopped walking after her, but stopped her own motion as the next set of words he uttered sent her stomach leaping into her throat.
"What are you talking about? Your shift ended nearly an hour ago."
"Is that so?" she chuckled nervously. "Well, I guess this thing's made me delirious or something, cuz I completely forgot, heh. Silly me." There was a brief pause before he said exactly what was needed to send her running.
"Oh, really? Well, is this 'bug' of yours also the reason you've managed to shrink about a foot and lose about 20 pounds in one day?"
She knew running would confirm the suspicions he was developing, but if she hung around any longer, that was going to happen anyway. So she fled, she fled as fast as her legs could carry her.
Cid watched the figure run, calling out a couple "heys" before it occurred to him just who this person actually was. Without thinking, he rushed to the nearest alarm and slammed his fist into it, sending lights flashing and sirens wailing.
*******
"Dammit!!" Renfro cried as the sights and sounds of the alarm system filled the building. "The fools...the rotten fools..."
Meanwhile, in a room just down the hall from her, a group of panicked doctors met their doom in the form of a very angry and very eager to escape prisoner. Then, freedom... well, not just yet, but it was certain to come now. What had set off the alarm was unknown but such was inconsequential. What was important is that it was the perfect distraction. All personnel were rushing away, not bothering to pay attention to what was right in front of them. The objective was something else...no, SOMEONE else. But who? Who else was there? Those who came to mind were either dead or reprogrammed. No bother. It wasn't what mattered at the moment. What mattered was escape.
Strange that it had been known earlier, felt that it would happen. But that was yet another thing that didn't matter. It was a coincidence, plain and simple, nothing more.
Escape. Freedom.
Perfect.
She quickly discarded the military fatigues they'd dressed her in and pulled on the janitors' jacket, whose sleeves she needed to roll up slightly. She moved on to the pants, which had a patch advertising some band sewn onto them, and banged her fist against the wall when they slid off her hips to rest in a heap about her ankles. She searched the room frantically for a savior, and found it in the form of a large, old-fashioned mop, from whose head she ripped a piece of rope to use as a makeshift belt. The pants continued to sag, but at least they stayed up. She used a pencil to hold her hair in a messy bun atop her head, which she secured with the uniform's cap, then flipped up the jacket's collar to cover her barcode. She briefly checked her appearance in the shiny surface of an aluminum wash bucket, then, satisfied, inwardly reviewed her escape plan and ventured back out into the hall.
*******
They drove in silence, bothering not even to glance at each other. Both had their doubts and feared for the worst, but neither wanted the other to know. It was better that each thought the other man was certain and fearless. It was better because otherwise, someone might break down and they might have time to reconsider and they might call off the mission. With such high stakes, that was not an option. Failure was not an option.
It was for this reason that neither was aware they both shared the same nagging sense of dread. Each had this awful feeling like something was about to go horribly wrong, but they figured it was just nerves so it went ignored. The silence deafened, the tension mounted, and the thought of hanging oneself suddenly became inexplicably prominent...
*******
Something wasn't right.
The door had a window at the top, and all she could see through it was the opposite wall. Sure, she was still a good 40 feet away, and they could both very well be sitting down. But...something about it was extraordinarily unsettling, so she picked up her pace.
"God dammit!" she exclaimed as she reached the door and peered inside. On the floor lay X5-734, handcuffed and unconscious, with X5-452 nowhere to be seen. She nervously fished through her pocket for her extra set of keys. The lock wouldn't turn, though, and she realized with dismay that the escapee must have broken her off her copy. The girl had definitely been underestimated...but though it frustrated and angered her to no end, it also filled her with a sick sense of pride. X5-452 certainly was living up to her potential, moreso apparently than even X5-599. They'd had high hopes for him, but he hadn't done anything like this. He couldn't...he was too foolishly resistant ever to gain enough freedom to attempt it. He'd sacrificed something to his younger sister, a cunning and strength sadly lacking in the current X5s. All the more reason she needed to be caught, subdued and reprogrammed immediately.
Renfro reached for the alarm on the wall, then thought better of it. Such would not only alert security to X5-452's insubordinance, but also warn her that she'd been found out. Instead, Renfro removed her cell and phoned the head of security.
*******
Cid Watkins pushed his cell back into the deep pockets of his janitor uniform and went back to work. Be on alert, they'd said. One of the X5s was attempting escape, they'd said. She was about 5 ft. 7, with brown eyes and dark brown hair falling just below her shoulders. Wouldn't be difficult to recognize, either, as all other X5s had been ordered to return to their barracks and remain there until further notice. Hmph. Like he, a lowly, unlucky janitor was likely to spot her. He never got any breaks. He certainly wasn't about to start today.
He heard footsteps ahead of him and looked up to see a fellow janitor turning from a hall a few yards away and heading off opposite from him. The patch on the leg told him immediately who it was: Samuel. Strange guy, Samuel. Liked to be called his full first name. Hated it when you called him otherwise. Also was the only one who'd ever bothered to "decorate" his uniform. No one else saw the need or even wanted to, but he'd gone right on and sewn that patch, to the displeasure of the director. She'd let him keep it, though, cuz it wasn't like a huge deal or anything and she had more important things to worry about. Anyway, the point is, he stood out. You could tell him from a mile away. Which is probably why it registered so quickly with Cid that something was very different. For one thing, the man had apparently shrunken in size. Then there was the fact that he didn't have a broom or bucket or anything like that. Of course, the fact that his shift had ended something like 45 minutes ago was fairly prominent as well. Strange stuff, even for Samuel.
"'Ey, buddy!" Cid called down the hall after the man. "Samuel! Yo, Samuel!"
*******
"SAMUEL!"
Max flinched as the name was called out once again. //Man, get a clue,// she thought. //The guy obviously isn't up to...// She ceased moving as it dawned on her and she looked down to spy the name patch over the jacket's breast pocket. It read SAMUEL HARDING.
"Crap, that's me," she whispered to herself. She swallowed hard as she heard the man jogging to catch up with her, then began walking again when he tried to sidle up beside her.
"Samuel, what's with you? You sure are acting strange."
"Well, um..." Max mumbled gruffly, deepening her voice, "...I've got a, uh, some kind of bug. *cough* I'm cutting out early." She thought for a second, then added, "but don't tell anybody, man! I'm definitely not in good condition to be chewed out by that blonde bitch." She was relieved when she sensed that he'd stopped walking after her, but stopped her own motion as the next set of words he uttered sent her stomach leaping into her throat.
"What are you talking about? Your shift ended nearly an hour ago."
"Is that so?" she chuckled nervously. "Well, I guess this thing's made me delirious or something, cuz I completely forgot, heh. Silly me." There was a brief pause before he said exactly what was needed to send her running.
"Oh, really? Well, is this 'bug' of yours also the reason you've managed to shrink about a foot and lose about 20 pounds in one day?"
She knew running would confirm the suspicions he was developing, but if she hung around any longer, that was going to happen anyway. So she fled, she fled as fast as her legs could carry her.
Cid watched the figure run, calling out a couple "heys" before it occurred to him just who this person actually was. Without thinking, he rushed to the nearest alarm and slammed his fist into it, sending lights flashing and sirens wailing.
*******
"Dammit!!" Renfro cried as the sights and sounds of the alarm system filled the building. "The fools...the rotten fools..."
Meanwhile, in a room just down the hall from her, a group of panicked doctors met their doom in the form of a very angry and very eager to escape prisoner. Then, freedom... well, not just yet, but it was certain to come now. What had set off the alarm was unknown but such was inconsequential. What was important is that it was the perfect distraction. All personnel were rushing away, not bothering to pay attention to what was right in front of them. The objective was something else...no, SOMEONE else. But who? Who else was there? Those who came to mind were either dead or reprogrammed. No bother. It wasn't what mattered at the moment. What mattered was escape.
Strange that it had been known earlier, felt that it would happen. But that was yet another thing that didn't matter. It was a coincidence, plain and simple, nothing more.
Escape. Freedom.
Perfect.