Voyagers: Asylum

Chapter 5: The escape

Jeffrey was afraid to move on the broken cot, the boys weren't kidding about the rats. Every so often he'd hear a cuss and a rat would go flying against the wall. They crept around him, sensing new blood in their haunt. A few even dared to sniff out his hair. As a precaution, he kept his sneakers on. Aside from his fear of the rat attack, Jeffrey's body ached from the vigorously cleaning the dining hall. Brocklehurst did a thorough spot check and was very impressed.

"For the time being, this will be your job! All these other little beggars leave dirt and grime! It's a disgrace!"

Jeffrey didn't dare complain, it was either that or "scrub the privies and barns," Daryl warned. All Jeffrey wanted to do was sleep, but his strange surroundings kept him distressed and awake. His thoughts about Bogg and the upsetting conversation with Wick played over in his mind. He slapped his legs and neck, feeling fleas and bedbugs having a banquet. The other children kept shushing him. If Brocklehurst' sleep was disturbed he'd come and make all of them stand until they dropped from exhaustion. Then he'd leave them on the cold, stone floor. Jeffrey was truly starving right now, since he gave his meal to Daryl.

A small hand patted his shoulder, it was little Firth and he held a covered, tin plate. Jeffrey sat up and looked at the child with pity. Firth put a finger to his lips and held the plate out. When Jeffrey lifted the cloth he saw a small piece of meat, fresh potato, and a buttered roll, lifted from the Master's earlier meal. Firth put his fingers to his mouth and patted his stomach, directing him to eat. Jeffrey smiled at him and did just so, food never tasted so delicious.

He ate quickly, not wanting the others to smell it and feel jealous over his special treatment. Firth didn't leave his side, but watched him curiously like a puppy. Jeffrey was about to take a giant bite into the roll, but hesitated. The child had risked a lot to bring him this and probably had nothing to eat himself. He held out the roll to him.

"Did you eat anything, Firth? Have this."

Firth shook his head and rubbed his stomach, indicating he'd ate his fill already. Jeffrey ate the sweet roll gratefully. He put his four fingers to his chin and drew them out, in a sign of thanks. Firth looked at him oddly.

"That means 'thank you' in sign language…uhh…I mean…well sign language is a way of talking with your hands. It's for people who can't hear or speak."

Firth smiled and copied his motion.

"You like that huh? I can teach you a little more, but not right now, it's late. You should sleep, you must be exhausted."

Firth looked around and shook his head and grabbed Jeffrey's hand. "Come…" He mumbled as best he could.

Jeffrey drew the blankets off of him. "Where, Firth?"

The boy bade him to keep silent and follow him. Firth grabbed a small candle from the hallway sconce. They paced the corridor and down the staircase. Jeffrey peeked out the stained window and saw Owen guarding the front entrance. Jeffrey followed Firth's lead and they stayed on the left side of the stairs for less creaking and groaning wood. As they hurried through the parlor Jeffrey froze from the inhuman sounds echoing through the asylum. Firth gripped his hand afraid. They were the cries of children in agony. Jeffrey rubbed Firth's head consolingly and urged him forward. They tiptoed into the dark kitchen and Firth went on his knees near the stove. He rapped three times on the floor. Jeffrey noticed an outline in the wood and the floor opened up halfway. Daryl poked his head out.

"Good job, Firth, come on!"

Firth and Jeffrey crawled through the opening. They climbed down a few ladder rungs and into a damp cellar that smelled of rotted vegetables. He saw old heads of lettuce, carrots and beets strewn around and rubbed his nose. He was already getting used to the stale and reeking odors of the asylum. The boys had set up a small meeting space, with crates stacked as seats, encircling a pair of oil lamps. He recognized Wick and Addie, and a few others from dinner. As Jeffrey presumed in the stagecoach, Daryl was the fearless leader and he quieted down the boys.

"Glad ya got him to come, Firth! Great work!"

Firth smiled and Daryl tossed him a piece of candy he'd swiped from the pantry. He looked squarely at Jeffrey.

"We're planning another escape, but we want you to 'elp us."

"What can I do? You seem to know this place inside and out. I don't even know where I am!"

Jeffrey wasn't sure if he should help them escape. As much as he felt sorry for these children, he didn't want to contribute to making a red light. Who knew their history and what they'd become in the future? But it was a risk he'd have to take.

"Jeffy you said you're desperate to get outta 'ere! So we need ya. Ya got a mouth on ye, you can keep 'em distracted when we make our getaway and…"

Jeffrey waved his hands. "Hold on, hold on, and what about me? They're gonna know it's a trick. They're on guard more than you think. I saw Owen outside just a few minutes ago. There has to be another way out besides the passage under Brocklehurst's bed. This a food cellar, isn't there another entryway from here?"

"There is, but it's all boarded up and locked, we've tried that one. We've only made one attempt through the passage so far. I don't really know what to do, Jeffy!" He begged.

The boys kept silent for a few moments and Jeffrey suddenly had a daring plan. He called them to attention. The firelight flickered in his widened eyes. It was a simple escape, but would take a concentrated effort. If even a few of them could escape, then they could report the cruelty that actually went on here.

"We'll have to do this from behind the orphanage. We're also gonna need bed sheets, lots of them, and make sure they're thick!"

Jeffrey described his idea and the boys were eager to get started.

~Oo~

Daryl led Jeffrey and the other six boys to an unused rooms at the rear of the asylum. Firth and Addie joined them a few minutes afterward. They'd packed provisions for the boys – small jars of fruit, jams and muffins, rolls, a container of butter and a hunk of cheddar cheese. The room was dusty and full of cobwebs that layered over the old junk and furniture stored inside. Outside was a pathway into the dense forest and it'd be easy to hide if they escaped in the darkness. Jeffrey was uncertain that he wanted these boys to climb down from such a height, but he had no choice. All the windows on the first and second floors were locked and barred tight. This room however, was forgotten and had one oval window with a single pane glass.

While the boys tied countless bed sheets together, Jeffrey searched for an object with a sharp metal edge. He found a rusted iron horse that would work best. He carefully cut through the glass. The boys were real pros and knew how to keep quiet. Jeffrey was grateful, because one false slip and he'd be cut severely. The glass shards scraped his hands as he tentatively pulled each pane out of place and put them on the floor.

"Daryl, did you find something secure to tie that blanket rope too? It has to hold us all."

"I'm lookin' Jeffy, all he's got in 'ere are a buncha paintings and pedestals, they'll tip over."

Wick pointed out a decrepit fireplace against the wall. "Let's tie it up to the metal grating over it, that should hold us!"

Jeffrey patted his back enthusiastically. "Great idea, Wick, come on guys, we can do this!"

Within five minutes, the boys were ready for their descent. Jeffrey let the smaller children go first and he watched impressed how Firth, Addie and another young one named George shimmied down without a sound. When they made it to the damp grass below, Firth shook on the blanket. Jeffrey sent Wick and red-headed twins named Casper and Colin. Their climb down seemed nearly effortless as well. Daryl was next to go, but he looked out with his large, black eyes and shook his head.

"I can't, Jeffy! I'm scared! I don't like 'eights!" He whimpered. His little tough guy persona was lost.

Jeffrey held his arm. "Daryl, we made it this far, we can't turn back now. The boys are holding the blankets and I got it steady from up here. Take a few deep breaths and focus on where you put your hands, you saw how the others did it, right?"

"They made it look easy, I know it's not, but at least sheets are thicker than a rope."

"You're right, it isn't easy, but think of it as a game…fun! Just take your time, remember the sooner you do it, the faster we'll get out!"

Daryl nodded and rolled up his sleeves. He adjusted his cap and breathed in and out four times.

"Is that good, Jeffy?"

"You're doing fine. Here, let me help you over this ledge, okay…good."

Daryl wrapped himself firmly around the rope blanket. He inched his way down, taking much longer than the others, but he refused to make a misstep or lose his grip. The boys grabbed for him as he neared the bottom and brought him to safety. Daryl took the heavy knapsack from Firth and secured on to his back, despite the pain from his hot oil scars. Jeffrey waved to the boys. He struggled down the blankets. He hadn't climbed ropes since gym class. The boys all grabbed his waist and pulled him off.

"Thanks guys! Okay, we made it! Now we…"

"Now we make a run for it! Look!" Wick screamed.

Owen, Rufus and three other men raced toward them on horses. They brandished weapons and shouted vile threats. Brocklehurst stood at the entryway with an evil smile.

"Did you think you could escape that easily? Never! GO after them, NOW!" He bellowed.

"You dirty rats! Get back here! You're all dead! Ya hear!" Rufus hollered. "DEAD!"

"Run! Run fast! Go!" Jeffrey shoved the boys ahead, but it was too late.

The men galloped and immediately swept up the twins. Rufus managed to grab Wick and George as they stumbled into a thick patch of bushes and got tangled. Addie tried to help them from the bush and Rufus hit him to the ground. He passed out and was captured.

Jeffrey trailed behind Daryl, and suddenly Firth tripped over a fallen branch and grabbed his knee in pain. Jeffrey skidded to a halt and picked him up.

"Can you walk?" He asked anxiously.

He shook his head. Jeffrey put him on his back and hobbled along behind Daryl. Owen reared his horse in front of them and Jeffrey tried to run in the opposite direction before he was trampled. The sound of Owen's leather whip cracked in the air and a searing pain enveloped Jeffrey's body. Firth moaned aloud as he too felt the sting and slid off Jeffrey's back crying. They were knocked on the grass and a giant rope encircled them. Owen pulled back with his horse and it tightened, digging into their whip wounds. Owen kicked his stallion and the horse broke into a gallop, dragging the boys across the rutted grassland. Jeffrey tried his best to cover his head and keep Firth protected as dirt and grit flew into their nose and mouth and rocks scraped their limbs. The taut rope squeezed the breath out of them. Jeffrey screamed out into the forest…

"Daryl! Run! Find help! Find a man…"

~Oo~

Daryl practically soared through the crowded thickets, the screams of his companions echoed around him and one name rang in his ears…Bogg…he had to find a man named Phineas Bogg.