Chapter Six
Wednesday, September 2, 1590
8:46 P.M.
Clayton, West Sussex, England
The soldiers were shocked. It wasn't a jail that they were leading the three men to—it was a two room shack! They were met by Edward, Lord Clayton—Door's and Clara's ancestor. Lord Clayton read the charges against them and had them locked in the smaller room with a small window near the top. A single soldier was left guarding.
Marty paced the small cell where he, Doc, and Door were being held.
"Dammit, Doc!" he shouted, "What are we gonna do? Are we gonna be drawn and quartered?"
"Likely just flogged," Doc said after a moment's thought.
"Just?" Door shouted, "Just flogged? God damn it, Emmett, would—"
"Everyone be quiet!" Doc shouted back, "And period accents, remember?"
"All right, let me think!" Doc said, standing up and pacing, "The walls of this building seem weak. Perhaps thatch. We could—no, wait, they're wood. Hm. Well, there's no floor, so we could dig our way out. No, there's not enough time to do it without being caught."
Doc fell silent but continued pacing.
"I've got it!" Doc said. He reached underneath his shirt and pulled out of his tool belt what looked like a laser pointer, "I can use this laser to cut the wood, enlarging the window enough to let us slip through."
"What about my things?" Door asked, "The soldier out there has my bag."
Doc reached under his shirt again and pulled out the sleep inducer. He explained to Door what it did.
Firing the laser, Doc slowly burned through the wood around the window, cutting off a large piece. It fell to the dirt floor with a soft thud.
"Jim, hold that piece, would you," Doc whispered. Door did so, and Doc cut loose another piece. Door set it on a cot on the floor.
"Okay, now what?" Door asked.
"Marty, you're the only one small enough to fit through," Doc said. "We'll hoist you up, then you come round the other side and open the door. Here's the sleep inducer, to take care of the guard."
They hoisted Marty through the opening. With a thud, Marty fell to the dirt on the outside.
"I'm okay!" he whispered, "Jesus, it's dark out here."
"Most people are asleep," Doc said, "Like when I told you about the people in the morning."
"Right. Just a second."
"What art thou doing?" the guard yelled, having heard Marty fall. As he got up, Marty ran around to the other side of the jail, grabbed the guard, spun him around, and flashed the sleep inducer in his eyes.
The guard fell to the floor.
"We're clear," Marty said through the door, "I've just got to find the keys."
A few minutes later, the door opened, Marty twirling the ring of keys around his finger.
"What about my paperwork?" Door asked.
"Got it," Marty said as the others left the cell.
The town was, true to Marty's words, pitch dark. Even if the soldier had sounded the alarm, it would have been almost impossible to find them.
They reached the stagecoach's landing area without being caught.
"Alright, Doc," Marty said, "Let's decloak this thing and get the hell out of here."
"You have the keys, Marty," Doc said.
"Oh, shit!" Marty said, patting his doublet, "I think I dropped them when I came out of the window."
"Oh god," Door said.
"Wait!" Marty said, "Here they are."
"Jesus, Marty, don't do that!" Doc hissed.
"Sorry," Marty said, deactivating the cloaking device and opening the door.
"Let's go home," he said.