-gives out slices of pineapple upside-down cake– Thank you very much for your reviews!!

Chapter 18

"One - two – now!"

Trip hefted the heavy wooden box off the ground, with Malcolm holding on to the other end. The thing was large and bulky and weighed about a ton, or so it felt to Trip as they struggled to get it into the back of the cargo truck. It didn't help that there was hardly any room left in the vehicle.

Finally, they had maneuvered it into the last corner available. Still in the truck, Trip paused for a moment to wipe the wetness off his brow, where sweat and water were gathering in equal amounts. The rain had been pouring down all afternoon, and there wasn't a dry spot left on his body. His footwear was supposed to be water-proof, but the puddles they had to wade through were deep enough so that the water had run into the top of his boots and drenched his socks. It was like treading into cold mud with every step he took.

Malcolm, who was barely recognizable himself under a layer of mud and dirt, jumped off the truck and landed on the ground with a splash.

"You coming, Trip?"

Trip nodded, although he would have liked to stay out of the rain at least a few more minutes. The back of the truck was roofed with a tarp and its sides were screened so that the cargo bed was fairly dry. Trip looked out at the muddy, puddle-covered loading area and sighed. At least they were almost done for today. He couldn't wait to get back inside, take off the wet clothes and maybe have a cup of hot tea.

Cocoa would be nice, he thought as he jumped off the truck, water and mud splashing up to his thighs. Sometimes, when the kitchen personnel had a good day, they would serve hot cocoa with dinner instead of the usual peppermint tea. Trip thought of a steaming mug full of hot chocolate with marshmallows and smiled. He wasn't sure where the marshmallows had come from – here at River Valley the patients could count themselves lucky when they got cocoa, let alone candy – but the image was right there in his mind, so real that it almost left a sweet taste in his mouth. Another memory fragment, perhaps, or maybe just his empty stomach spurring on his imagination.

Pulling the hood of his jacket back up, Trip followed Malcolm across the loading area to where the last few wooden boxes were waiting. Chayton and Jimmy passed them on the way, lugging another box in between them. Chayton was carrying most of its weight and Trip heard him grunt from the exertion while Jimmy stumbled along next to him. Trip knew that this had been going on all afternoon, but Chayton never complained and the nurses were happy as long as everybody appeared to be working. The tall man even managed to grin at Trip as they walked past.

"Look at them," he said and jerked his chin at Owens and Moreno. "I think I'm gonna retrain as a nurse one of these days."

Trip smiled wryly. The nurses had retreated to the roofed part of the loading area where they stood smoking and chatting with the truck drivers. None of them had as much as poked their noses out into the rain.

"Yeah, looks like an easy enough job," he said, and even Jimmy smiled a little. Trip was glad to see it. Jimmy didn't do very well even in the greenhouses, and the physical strain of lugging cargo was far beyond his limits. Last time Lendon had made him work with Toby, and after half an hour the slim man had collapsed sobbing on the ground.

"Good thing Lendon's not working today," Malcolm said quietly when Chayton and Jimmy had passed. Trip nodded, having thought the exact same thing. The nurse never passed up an opportunity to torment the nervous young man.

When they arrived at the storage area, Frank and Akashi were picking up the last of the boxes.

"That's it," Frank grinned weakly. "Finally."

Trip nodded and only now noticed how tired he was. He was aching in places he hadn't even known he had and his back was giving him hell. He thought of the hot cocoa again. Hopefully he would stay awake long enough to enjoy it.

Malcolm rubbed a hand over his face, leaving it streaked with mud. "And to think that there are people claiming that the English weather is bad. England's a bloody tropical island compared to this place."

"You've never been to England," Trip pointed out, earning himself a glare.

"Of course I have. Why else would I speak proper English, unlike the rest of you I might add."

Trip wanted to launch to his defense, although he knew that it wouldn't be much use when Malcolm was in this mood. More likely than not, he would get his head bitten off. Before he could say anything, though, Moreno's call diverted his attention.

"We're done for today, guys! Let's get going!"

The nurse was standing next to the truck that would take them back to the main building, his hood pulled down over his face. Over at the sheltered area, the drivers flicked their cigarettes onto the ground and nodded at Owens as they began to walk towards their vehicles.

Following the rest of the patients, Trip and Malcolm went over to the truck. Toby was already there, leaning against the side of the vehicle with his eyes closed. He looked ready to pass out from exhaustion.

"You okay?" Trip asked quietly as they stepped up next to their roommate.

Toby opened his eyes. "Yes," he said, his flat tone belying his words. Toby had returned from the Medical Ward only a few days ago and although he never mentioned the incident with the ray neutralizer, he was a lot more subdued than before and hardly ever spoke unless he had to. Trip suspected that Rowland was keeping the smaller man on heavy medication, but there was no way of finding out. Toby never talked about his drug intake as a principle, afraid that "they" would not approve if he revealed their methods to the other patients.

Trip asked no further and leaned against the truck next to their roommate, waiting for the rest of the group to gather for departure. Owens had finished his smoke and came over.

"Want me to drive?" he asked Moreno, who had his hands buried in the pockets of his jacket.

The other nurse grunted what might have been a "yes", and Owens began to climb into the driver's cab.

"Come on," Moreno waved for them to get onto the truck. "I'm drowning here."

Tell me about it, Trip replied silently as he waited for his turn to climb up. Judging from Malcolm's dry smirk, the Englishman was thinking along the same lines. Moreno, after all, had been relatively warm and comfortable while they had toiled in the pouring rain for hours.

A swear came from the driver's cab just as Trip was about to hoist himself onto the back of the truck.

"Goddammit!"

Moreno frowned. "Mike?" he called.

The door of the driver's cab opened and a very disgruntled looking Owens climbed out again, his glasses slightly askew on his nose.

"Something's wrong with the goddamn engine," he said.

Moreno's frown intensified. "What?"

"It won't start." Owens accusingly held up the car keys as if they were the source of all evil. "I tried several times, but the ignition's dead."

Moreno scowled. "That's impossible. Give me those."

"I'm telling you-" Owens began, but the other nurse had already snatched the keys from his hand and climbed into the driver's cab.

Owens rolled his eyes and stood, hands on his hips, waiting. Eventually, Moreno came back out, his cheeks flushed a dark red.

"It won't start," he said.

Owens raised his eyebrows at him. "You don't say."

Moreno ignored the sarcasm. "Wait a minute." He went to open the hood and frowned as he stared at the truck's intestines. "Hm... might be the spark plugs."

Owens sighed and went to join him. "Sam, you don't know a thing about cars. Why don't we call Jake and ask him to send someone here with another truck?"

Moreno glared at him. "Just let me take a look, okay?" He poked at something inside the hood. "Get me the tool kit from the back, would you?"

Owens sighed again. "Sam..."

Moreno looked up, an oil smear down his cheek. "My first car was this ancient Ford that would only start if you poked it long enough with a screwdriver. Taught me more about engines than a mechanic's manual."

Trip had never seen the nurse look so lively; usually, Moreno seemed nearly asleep half of the time he was on duty. Owens seemed to have noticed as well. He said nothing more and turned around to get the tool kit.

"Sir?" Chayton glanced at Jimmy before he continued. "If this is gonna take a while, do you think we could wait over there?" He pointed at the sheltered space across the loading area.

Owens nodded, hardly glancing up as he rummaged through a side compartment in the back of the truck. "Yeah, go ahead. I'll get you when we're done."

Relieved looks were shared at the nurse's reply. The rain had let up a little, but the wind blowing across the open square was getting chilly now that nightfall was close, lashing tiny drops of water into their faces. They were shivering in their soaked clothes, and from the glowing look on Moreno's face, it was only reasonable to assume that they would be here for a while yet.

As they followed Chayton, Trip's eyes came to rest on the cargo trucks. The first of them were about to depart, but a few of the drivers were still standing next to their vehicles, smoking one last cigarette before they left. One of the trucks, the one closest to them, wasn't even prepared for departure yet; the tarp that was supposed to cover the tail end was still hanging open.

And there was no one keeping an eye on it.

Trip grabbed Malcolm's arm. The Englishman frowned, eyes widening as he followed Trip's finger and became aware of the open truck.

Trip threw a quick glance at the two nurses who were bent over the hood, then at the other patients. No one was paying them any attention, and the smoking truck drivers had their backs turned to them. He looked back at Malcolm. This was crazy, dangerously so, and yet it might be the only chance they had.

It was Malcolm who broke the silence first. "Come on," he whispered.

Trip glanced at the nurses again. The open cargo truck was about fifty meters away and if Owens or Moreno lifted their eyes just once while he and Malcolm crossed those fifty meters, they would be caught.

Malcolm moved quickly and stealthily, taking the lead as if he had done this kind of thing a hundred times before. Trip followed him, running as fast as he could, dodging puddles and praying that he wouldn't slip on the muddy ground. The rain got into his eyes as he ran and he resisted the urge to turn around to see if they were being followed. Any second now, there would be an angry shout and the nurses would come tearing after them...

Except that it didn't happen. No one seemed to have gotten so much as a glimpse of them and as they scrambled into the back of the truck, climbing onto the wooden boxes, Trip felt a sudden, wild excitement. He had lain awake so many hours lately, racking his brain for a way to escape, but this had never even crossed his mind. And it might work. He realized that as he looked at Malcolm and saw the same excitement on the Englishman's face.

Climbing to the very back of the cargo bed, they pushed one of the wooden boxes away from the back wall of the driver's cab until they had created a space large enough for two people to sit down next to each other. That way, they would be hidden from view in case anyone looked into the back of the truck and at the same time protected if any of the boxes started shifting.

Trip's hands were shaking as he sat down next to Malcolm. It was dark in the truck and so he couldn't quite see the other man's expression. They were sitting close enough for their arms to touch, though, and he felt the tension of Malcolm's muscles under the fabric of his jacket.

He wedged his own hands in between his knees, his fingers intertwining. This could go so horribly wrong.

They sat in rigid silence, waiting, listening. The rain that drummed on the tarp over their heads was the only noise, and Trip had almost relaxed a little when suddenly the sound of voices drifted closer.

"... godawful weather to be driving cross country," a man said. Now the sound of boots walking on muddy ground accompanied the voices.

"Yeah," another one answered, and after a short silence added, "It's good to get on the road though. Can't stand this place."

"Me neither," the first speaker replied. There was a sound like a large piece of plastic being moved, and what little light had been there disappeared. "Gives me the creeps every time."

Someone was securing the tarp, the fastenings clicking into place.

"Well, then, I'll see you around, Joe," the second voice said.

"See you then," Joe answered. "Say hi to Jolene for me."

"If she's still there when I get home," the other replied gloomily, his voice getting harder to make out in the distance.

Joe chuckled and walked around the truck to the driver's cab. The sound of the door being slammed shut made them both jump. Trip bit down hard on his lip as the starting engine sent a shudder through the vehicle.

Come on now.

The truck began to move, far too slowly for his tastes. He sat with his back pressed against the side wall, waiting for the running steps and the shout that would bring the vehicle to a halt. It couldn't be that no one had noticed their absence, that no one would come after them. This was River Valley, after all.

The truck moved faster, the boxes around them rattling against the floor. Trip tried to remember how far it was to the gate that led to the open road. Couldn't be more than a hundred and fifty, maybe two hundred meters. He pictured the distance in his mind, growing smaller as the truck crossed the loading area. After only a short time, the vehicle in his imagination passed the gate, and there had been no shouts yet to stop it.

"You think we're outside yet?" Malcolm whispered.

Trip nodded. "Yeah, I think so."

The excitement of before had returned, filling him with a wild triumph. They were actually doing it. They were escaping from River Valley.

Malcolm grabbed his arm and Trip turned his head to look at him. His eyes had gotten used to the dark by now and he could see that the other man was smiling.

"Trip," Malcolm whispered. "You know, I think organic food's not such a bad idea, after all."

Even though Malcolm's statement made little to no sense at all, Trip suddenly felt laughter bubble in his throat and bit down on his tongue to keep it inside.

The floor beneath them shuddered as the vehicle gained speed.

"...Trip!"

Trip blinked. He hadn't meant to doze off, but the constant rocking of the truck combined with the low sound of the engine had lulled him to sleep. It was even darker now than it had been before, and he could barely make out Malcolm's face.

"Trip, I think we're slowing down."

Trip sat up straight. Malcolm was right, the truck seemed to be moving more slowly than before. He felt the wheels move underneath them as the vehicle left the straight road they had followed for a while.

"We can't be there yet," Malcolm said quietly. "It can't have been more than three hours and I'm sure that he's not headed to a place that close."

Trip hoped that Malcolm was right. The truck hadn't stopped so far, and so there hadn't been a chance for them to try and take a look at their surroundings, let alone find a way to get off the vehicle. With the truck in motion, they didn't dare leave their hiding place for fear of getting hurt in between the boxes; jumping off the moving car was out of the question. Trip wondered if River Valley had called the police yet. They probably had, and the police were bound to take this missing persons' report seriously, given that it was two "dangerous lunatics" who were on the loose. Maybe the driver had received a call and the police cars were following them, ready to take Joe's illegal passengers back to River Valley. Trip felt faintly sick at the idea.

The truck slowed down even more. Trip wondered if they should try and jump out now before the police had surrounded them, but dismissed the idea again. If the police were following them, then they didn't stand a chance trying to run.

They sat in silence as the truck came to a halt and the engine was shut down. Trip held his breath in the short silence that followed. Then, the door of the driver's cab was opened and slammed shut again, and Trip exhaled. Joe wouldn't just get out if he knew he had two escaped mental patients lurking in the back of his truck, would he? Then again, maybe the authorities had told him to run for it, get out of harm's way...

Joe's slow steps didn't suggest that he was running to safety from the police's line of fire. And there were voices close by, as well as the sound of cars coming and going. No sirens, and certainly no megaphone voice telling them to come out with their hands up.

"I think he's just takin' a break," he whispered to Malcolm. "It's gotta be late, maybe he-"

"Shhh!"

Joe's steps had come closer, halting at the back of the truck. The driver stayed there, and after a while they could smell the smoke of a cigarette. Then a sudden burst of music filled the air and they heard Joe's muffled voice: "Yeah?"

The person talking to him on the cellphone made most of the conversation, with Joe only adding the occasional "yeah" or grunt.

"Yeah, I'm at a motel," he said eventually. "Gonna spend the night, then- yeah, I'll be back in time. Promise."

Trip glanced at Malcolm. This was the best thing that could have happened to them. If Joe intended to spend the night here, there would be more than enough time for them to find a way to get out of here and leave undetected.

Joe ended his phone call with another grunt, and Trip waited if he would get back to the driver's cab. There was the sounds of steps retreating and they sat in silence, waiting if he would return. After several minutes had passed, Malcolm whispered: "I don't think he's coming back."

Trip shook his head and got up. His legs ached after sitting in a cramped space for hours and he massaged them quickly to get the circulation back. Malcolm followed suit. As carefully as they could in the near darkness, they climbed over the wooden boxes until they had reached the back of the truck. It was slightly less dark back here, and as Trip looked closer, he discovered a small crack between the tarp that covered the back and the metal frame. White and red lights shone in through the small gap.

He tried sticking his hand through it, surprised when the tarp gave way and allowed his arm to pass through as well. Obviously, it hadn't been stretched very tightly.

"Can you reach the fastenings?" Malcolm whispered.

"I'm tryin'." Trip felt the metal outside for the buckles that held the tarp in place, his arm beginning to ache from the strain. "I don't think so."

Malcolm pushed against the tarp. "Maybe if we kick it hard enough-"

"Wait!" Trip felt the metal object his fingers had encountered. It had to be one of the fastenings, yet he couldn't make out how to open it. Fumbling for the release mechanism, he wondered what would happen if Joe – or anyone else out there – happened to look at the truck right now and saw a disembodied hand fiddling with the tarp. Right then, there was a soft click and Trip felt the buckle opening under his fingers.

"Got it!"

He pushed the tarp aside and quickly opened a second and a third buckle, which was easy now that he could see what he was doing. Finally, he had unfastened enough of the tarp so that they could climb outside.

It was almost dark save for the light that came from the motel sign looming over the parking lot. Trip saw no one as they climbed out, but as soon as his feet had touched the ground, Malcolm grabbed his arm.

"Quick, get under the truck!"

Trip obeyed without thinking, scrambling after Malcolm who had already disappeared under the vehicle. As he lay prone on the cool asphalt, he heard a car coming closer. A streak of light passed over their hiding place and briefly illuminated it before it disappeared again as the car changed direction. A moment later, its engine was shut off and there was the sound of a door being opened.

"... if you'd just told them that we had to leave," a male voice said.

"I can't just tell them," a woman answered, matching his annoyed tone. "They'd be upset. Besides, it was you who..."

Their voices drifted away as they walked across the parking lot to the motel building. Trip let out the breath he had been holding. Those people had walked by quite close, and if they hadn't been too distracted, they could have easily seen them.

They waited until the couple had disappeared in the building, then crawled out from under the truck again.

"We've got to get away from the road," Malcolm said quietly. "They'll search these places first."

Trip nodded and quickly buckled the tarp back into place. With any luck, Joe would never even notice that it had been opened.

They crossed the parking lot, walking away from the road and the brightly lit building. At a distance, Trip could make out the dark outline of trees and instinctively knew that this was the safest place for them to stay right now. Out there, even the police would have a hard time following their tracks.

As they left the parking lot and stepped onto the grass, Trip glanced at the dark sky and suddenly noticed something that had eluded his attention until now.

He smiled. The rain had stopped.

TBC...

Well, we had icecream from volley and pineapple cake, let's lay off the sweets for now... every person who leaves a review gets a Whole Wheat Pineapple Crunchie and a kiss on the cheek from the Englishman or Southerner of their choice!

Is that an offer?