Thank you for your comments and reviews. Here is the next chapter.
The end is drawing closer. Just a couple more chapters to go.
x-x
"New meds," the orderly said, holding out the cup of pills. "And a new privilege." When Malcolm didn't answer, the man continued anyway. "Doc said that we can unlock the door. If you do well with that, we'll move you back to your old room."
From where he was lying on the bed, Malcolm looked over at the man. He'd been trying to think of a way out of this mess, and he thought he might have found one. The unlocked door would give him the chance he needed, but he probably wouldn't be clear enough to escape if they changed his medications again.
He sat up on the bed and held out his hands for the cup. Popping the pills into his mouth, he hid them in his cheeks while he accepted the cup of water. Making a show of swallowing, he handed the cups back to the orderly.
The orderly simply watched him expectantly.
When Malcolm didn't respond, the orderly frowned. "You can either swallow those on your own, or I can make you swallow them."
So Malcolm swallowed.
x-x
Malcolm floated across the ice, the flow of his blades cutting patterns into its white surface as he skated...
Malcolm's head jerked up and he squinted against the brightness of the room around him. He was trying to stay awake, but he was so bloody tired. It was the medications, it had to be. He'd tried pacing when he first realised that they were affecting him, but within about a half hour of taking the pills, he'd had to sit down. Since then, he'd been there on the bed, his back against the wall as he struggled to stay alert.
Malcolm felt the breeze on his face as he moved, the cold, damp air of the ice rink cooling his sweaty skin...
He woke suddenly, his heart racing, his clothing soaked in sweat. The room had gone dim around him. Night, it was night. He was losing time. He had to go now. He slid to the edge of the bed and stood, taking a quick step to catch his balance when he almost fell. Trouble, he was in trouble and he knew it, but this was his shot. The doctor had made him crack, and even now he could feel the buried words forcing their way up, wanting to come out. And it had been who knows how long since he'd left Enterprise, who knows how long since he'd left Trip in that prison.
He had to go now.
Stumbling to the door, he slammed a hand against its frame, trying to steady himself. He forced himself to breathe slowly and carefully.
Opening the door a crack, he peered into the hallway. At one end of the corridor was the monitoring station, but the two orderlies standing there were talking to each other and pointing at some sort of paper that they were reading. When they both turned their backs to him, he started a mad shuffle down the hall in the opposite direction, holding the wall for support. Shaking with the effort, he opened the door to the common room, slipping inside. He started running towards the far door. Pulling it open, he heard an alarm pierce the night, but he ignored it. Running flat out down the long hallway, he saw his goal at the end: a large window, and maybe freedom. In his past walks down this hallway, he'd noticed the window, but hadn't seen any obvious grating or barrier. If he hit it going fast enough, he might make it through the glass. He stumbled and fell to his knees, then hauled himself up again. He started walking, then running.
Just ten paces more. Nine. Eight. Seven. He was just about to launch himself at the window when he heard a commotion behind him. There were shouts, and the light went bright around him.
Malcolm found himself on his back, staring up at the ceiling.
His last thoughts as he faded into unconsciousness were, "Force field. Of course."
x-x
Malcolm awoke back in the quiet room. He was alone, but he'd been secured to his bed. Unable to really move, he shook his head slightly. He'd been so close.
He shook his head again, rephrasing. He'd not been close. He'd been stupid. What the hell was he thinking?
He heard the click of the door lock, and one of the orderlies came in. They must be monitoring him, so they knew that he'd awoken. The man began checking his vitals. "You're lucky, you know," he said, taking Malcolm's pulse.
Malcolm watched him work.
The orderly went on despite Malcolm's lack of response. "Most people, if caught trying to escape, get an extra ten years added to their sentence." The man patted Malcolm on the arm, his expression almost sympathetic. "But you're in the psych ward. They tend to be more forgiving of the nutters."
Two prison guards entered the room, and the orderly glanced over his shoulder to them. "He's stable," he said, before turning back to Malcolm. Injecting something into his arm, the orderly said, "Just to keep you calm." He started undoing Malcolm's restraints. "Still, you'll have to go before the board today."
"Why?" Malcolm asked, surprised at how rough his voice still sounded.
The orderly looked surprised - probably because that was the first time Malcolm had spoken in his presence. "You tried to escape," he said. He resumed his activities. "You've also been actively unsafe, and we can't seem to get you out of that cycle. They may decide to transfer you someplace they feel better fits your needs. The prison system has hospitals where...
Transfer?
Malcolm tuned out the rest.
x-x
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