"I really must go, my love. I'm sorry. I will see you tonight. We'll all meet at the checkpoint tonight, yes? Just bring the duffle bags I packed and we'll be all set."
Understandably, my touch-starved and emotionally-attached Omega was reluctant to let me go that morning. He had woken up acting horny, almost as though he was in the beginning stages of heat. I was hardly in the right frame of mind to reciprocate his erotic advances however. My nerves had gotten the best of me for the last twelve hours, and I admit that it made me a rather useless Alpha that morning. If it were any other day I would have been happy to frot and fellate my horny young Will and sate him for the day.
But until Gragon was out of prison and we were all safe and sound at the checkpoint, that was all I could think about.
We stood at the door of my apartment, Jakov somewhere in the living room, graciously ignoring our conversation.
"I'm worried about you…. What if your plan doesn't work? What if you get caught? I'll…. I'll never see you again. You could get killed, I-"
"Will… Please look at me." I tilted his chin upwards and when he finally made eye contact with me I kissed him. He gasped an adorable, little gasp against my lips.
When I pulled away from our light contact, I spoke in a calm, sure voice; it was the opposite of what I felt inside, but I had to be strong for my future mate.
"Everything will be alright. I promise." I gave him another quick kiss on the lips to seal my promise, misguided though well intentioned as it was.
And with that I took my leave, entrusting my ever-so-tolerant Beta friend with the care of my young, brave Omega.
...XoXoXo...XoXoXo...XoXoXo...
Once outside in the pungent, borderline-toxic air, it took me to some time to realize that large masses of the crowds were not really walking anywhere, but simply standing in the streets, staring at the digital screens hanging from street awnings. The screens were rarely on, and were typically used for public announcements from the BCA. The average announcement was largely ignored by civilians, and it made my stomach lurch with a sense of foreboding, seeing all these people stopped dead in their tracks, attentions glued to the screens.
Overcome with dread and curiosity, I peeked over the crowd to read the television screen. Since the speakers had long since burned out, all the viewers relied on the subtitles scrolling across the screen and the main headline splayed across the top.
It looked like a normal news broadcast, but the headline read:
"President assassinated by alleged rebellion force member; all negotiations to reduce the City quarantine, have ceased."
Other details followed that message, but I didn't stick around for the rest of it. I was almost late for work, and surely the crowds were only going to worsen, possibly turning into a mob, even, and I certainly did not want to get involved in that.
Given this new information, my mind swam with the varying possibilities, regarding what the social climate condition would be for the next twelve hours. The plan was to leave the city with Will, Gragon, and Jakov before midnight. But what first seemed like divine appointment was now starting to feel like a fateful, dreaded end.
Several months ago I heard about the negotiations to reduce the quarantine: to let the people who were least affected by radiation to be brought to a less-toxic area for decontamination and eventual rehabilitation. It was a pipe dream, really; there was no way the government would let go of their best workers; the only people keeping the agriculture and economy alive. In fact, it wouldn't have surprised me one bit if the person who assassinated the President was not even remotely connected to the Rebellion, and was only labeled as such in order to have an excuse to cease negotiations. It brought into question the fact that the President was even dead, to be honest. It had been decades since anything remotely unbiased and universally true had graced the airwaves, and I felt certain they weren't about to change that anytime soon.
...XoXoXo...XoXoXo...XoXoXo...
Upon arrival at the gates of the BCA, I made sure not to look guarded; I kept my hands away from the left breast pocket that contained the meds Bedelia gave me, and I acted as nonchalant as I could, carrying my briefcase, the one that contained the broken EKG I'd be using later.
"'Morning…." I gave my usual greeting to the final guard at the doors, and I was careful not to make eye contact. I ignored the bead of sweat forming on my brow, and by the time I made it into the main entrance the sweat dripped into my eye, making it sting unbearably. I somehow resisted digging my knuckles into my eye until I reached a more private corridor, knowing that making any sudden movements could trigger an unwanted reaction from the admitting security.
The level of nervousness wracking my brain and body was approaching a dangerous level, I knew. The thermal sensors and the lasers were bound to pick up on my increased body temperature and heart rate. I tried to concentrate, in my office, hoping to center myself at least a little. I had approximately four hours until I could initiate the first part of my plan.
I decided to go to my place of rest, in my mind; a so-called 'happy place.' Some might call it meditating.
...XoXoXo...
The sky was blue for the first time in six months. Everyone in the valley was outside, enjoying the beautiful, exceptionally rare weather.
I laid a blanket down on the tufty grass, and when I sat on it I felt how the sunlight had already begun to warm the scratchy, wool-polyester fabric.
The breeze pulled at my long hair and whisked it into my face, I smiled as I realized how ridiculously disorderly my hair was about to become.
The door to the Winnebago swung open, and I shielded my eyes to watch the approaching figure descend the short set of steps to join me.
Not too surprisingly, my mind envisioned Will, my sweet, perfect Omega, carrying himself with a confident, almost carefree swagger. He practically leapt into my arms unexpectedly. We wrestled for a short while on the blanket; a friendly, goofy bout of rough-housing; something that was far too rare a sight, coming from me.
It ended in a kiss, Will capturing my lips as soon as he got the chance. I hummed against his lips as he smiled against mine. Still feeling rambunctious, Will bounced up and away, a gleam of mischief in his eyes.
"Are you…" I began, but before I could finish, Will began to run, his playful laugh just barely audible over the now gusting winds.
"Come back here…" I insisted while running after him. He and I had never been quite this playful together, but I knew it was normal for young men his age to like to taunt an Alpha; get them to run after them; to capture before conquering. It was a game, and one that I'd never played before.
"You think you can outrun me?" I taunted as I nearly stepped on Will's bare heels. My legs were far longer than his, and he had barely gotten a head start.
"I can try-Ooof!" Will's playful banter cut short when he tripped over an old exposed tree root. His chest hit the ground hard, but not hard enough to truly injure him.
"Will… Are you alright?" I stooped down to check on him, and instead of finding a hurt Omega, I found a laughing, slightly embarrassed one.
"Yeah… I'm fine… Jeeze you'd think the ground would have felt a bit better than a slab of concrete…"
I helped him up from the ground and immediately kissed him, resuming our earlier coupling, before my Omega had decided to turn it into a chase.
"Mmmm… God, Hannibal… we just got done having sex all weekend I would think you'd be sick of me by now."
"Never." I promised with more licks and kisses along his neck, paying special attention to his mating bite, right where he loved it.
"Mmm… Maybe my pregnancy hormones are affecting you too…" He said in a coy, satirical way.
"Perhaps… Or, perhaps you are just irresistible."
We weren't completely sure if he was pregnant yet, but I knew that my mate smelled different in the last few weeks following an especially intense heat. He smelled like vanilla and caramelized sugar, and now the lightest tinge of citrus could be detected as well, bringing me to suspect that he was with child.
"I love you, you know that, right?"
"Of course." I assured with a deep kiss. His lips tasted like the sweetest honey in the world. I felt as though I could kiss him forever. There was a stirring in my groin, a miracle considering how much sex we'd been having over the last few weeks, and not to mention my age.
"Mmmm... I think you're horny... Are you horny right now?"
"Yes." I confessed in a gasp against his perfect mouth. "It is incredible... I simply can't seem to get enough of you, my adorable, perfect Omega."
"You know, we just had sex like, an hour ago."
"No, we just made love an hour ago. But if you're not in the mood, I'm sure I can wait."
"I didn't say that... I love it when you fuck me."
"Oh you do?" I said coyly.
"Yes... I really do. In fact I think I want you to fuck me right now..."
"Again? So soon?"
"Yes. Come on... follow me..." He took my hand, drawing me in with those bedroom eyes and led me towards our camper; our shared living space; the only thing we had to our name save for our love.
...XoXoXo...
Things were just about to progress; the story about to move further. I could tell that this fantasy could go on forever; I could eternally dream about making love to Will.
But it would never happen in reality unless I snapped myself out of this daydream and got to work.
The real world welcomed me with its usual cruelty, bringing it scents, sounds, and burdens to again overwhelm me. But my little meditation session helped. Suddenly the weight of the task set before me seemed more manageable.
First, a trip to the cafeteria again.
The lunch hall was just starting to fill with staff members who were on break. Luckily, my intended target was just entering the double door from the opposite side. I knelt down and pretended to tie my shoe, nonchalantly delaying the time that I would get in line for food.
"Dr. Hansen." I acknowledged respectfully just as I joined the lunch line. The plastic trays were so old and worn that they had lost any sheen to them, leaving behind a rough, flaky surface, but they appeared to be clean. I stood alongside Dr. Hansen, practically elbow-to-elbow, waiting for the right opportunity to make my move.
"Dr. Lecter. How are you?" He asked, not really caring how I responded. I could have told him that the sky was falling, or that he was about to die, and I doubt he would have registered it in that overworked brain of his. I rather liked Doctor Hansen, compared to many of the other doctors and employees. It was a shame that he stood in the way of my plans.
"I'm doing well. I don't suppose they have any chicken this time 'round, do you?"
I waited for the good doctor to glance up from his morose slouch to look at the steam table, and it was then that I did it: quick as a flash I poured about half of the solution that Bedelia gave me from a tiny vial I'd been balancing, carefully hidden in my hand.
Most of the liquid landed right on top of the bowl of sugar-free jello, which I happened to know was a favorite of his; he would most certainly eat it, even before the rest of his food.
"No, I don't think we're that lucky." Dr. Hansen responded, but I barely heard him. My pulse was too busy thrumming in my ears for me to hear anything else. Before I could stop myself, before I could hesitate for a single millisecond, I swiftly yanked his ID badge off his lab coat. He didn't appear to notice, and I quickly palmed the ID card into my long sleeve shirt so he wouldn't see it.
I was not even sure what I said to him in reply, but I exited the lunch line and sat down, staring contentiously at the pile of slime on my plate. It used to be corn, I concluded; pulverized beyond recognition and mixed with mushy, boiled oats to made it stick to your ribs a little more effectively.
Chatter and gossip about the President's assassination rippled through the cafeteria like a tide pool wave, but again, I barely heard it. Tunnel vision afflicted my brain like I've never experienced before.
Dr. Hansen sat down at a different table shortly after I started picking at the pile of yellow-grey goo. I knew the arsenic would take a few minutes to take full effect, but I still found myself staring in the man's direction for some time.
In order to not arouse suspicion I eventually stared intently at the pile of corn mush on the plate. After a few second of staring, the lumps seemed to make faces at me; like they were taunting me...
Suddenly a loud clatter of metalware falling to the tile floor echoed through the mess hall, and the sound of wretching soon followed. I looked up just in time to see Dr. Hansen stooped over, vomiting up his green sugar free jello all over the floor. His color was ashen and quite grave looking, but I gave him a small enough dose so that in all likelihood he wouldn't die; he would just be sick for a few days. And all I really needed was a few hours.
Leaving my tray behind, I walked quickly towards the next phase of my plan: prisoner 21ADC-21924.
...XoXoXo...
The laundry cart was easy to get. While dressed yet again in chincy scrubs, I nonchalantly wheeled the large, canvas vat of dirty linens to Alana's cell.
Dr. Hansen's ID badge got me into the cell, since I hardly wanted it on record that it was I who entered. If this escape plan failed, I couldn't afford to be fired, black-listed, or worse... imprisoned.
The scrawny Omega was lying under the blanket on the bed, just as I'd instructed her to do. I methodically wrapped her up into the linens, creating an eighty-pound bundle for me to carry.
The challenge was to make it look like I wasn't carrying any weight at all. If anyone was looking at the camera feed, a flaw in my performance would be detrimental. I kept my head down, hoping the camera couldn't see my face, and lifted the bundle of linens (and Omega) like it weighed nothing at all. I plopped it gently but swiftly in the cart with the rest of the linens, and whispered,
"Don't move a muscle."
The cart was moved to the loading dock, where it would stay for several hours until the linen service arrived. There were fewer high tech cameras on the dock, so I took a risk and spoke directly to the lump in the linens, where I knew Alana was doing her best to stay still.
"Stay here. You'll get loaded into the linen truck and once you get to the laundry facility you should be able to outrun them and be free."
"Thank you." I heard Alana hiss from under the cloth.
"Don't thank me yet..." I murmured under my breath as I left, quickly heading to the next stop: the morgue.
...XoXoXo...XoXoXo...XoXoXo...XoXoXo...
"Oh, Terence, it's good to see you." I made sure not to seem rushed when making my way into the room where the BCA morgue staff processed dead bodies. I was back into my normal clothes, labcoat included. I felt a little more like my composed self when I was wearing my own clothes; the scrubs this time had been too roomy and I felt almost naked due to the drafty situation.
"Doctor." Terence acknowledged briefly before getting on to more important matters. "Don't you have heads to shrink? Usually you're on the other side, you know… with the living people."
Terence was a big fellow; a Beta, but still very big; in every sense of the word. He was typically good natured, but he was certainly not going to take any bull shit from me.
"Oh yes, I'm here to fill in for Doctor Hansen. He's sick."
"Is he now?" He sounded halfway to skeptical.
"Yes, he was vomiting all over the cafeteria at lunch. Amazing you didn't hear about it. Seems he came down with a nasty case of food poisoning.
"Hmmm… seems to be making its rounds… didn't you just call in for that same thing last week?"
"Yes I did; good memory."
There was an extremely long pause and I did my best to portray that I did not feel awkward; putting on a casual air was not unusual for me. But the additional nervousness gnawing away at my stomach made for an exceedingly torturous thirty seconds.
"Well..." He shrugged, giving up his suspicions and replacing it with apathy.
"Well I guess you'd better fill me in quick on how all this works. I haven't worked morgue duty since I got here. It's been about six years."
"It's pretty straight forward." Terence said casually. "The staff bring in a stiff, we hook 'em up to our machines to confirm death, and once they're declared dead by a doctor, that would be you, by the way, they get shuffled off to the truck out back."
"Ah, I see. And you'll be assisting me, I take it? If there are any dead bodies today?" I tried not to sound like I knew for a fact that there would be at least one "dead body" rolling through the morgue, in just a few short hours.
"That's the plan. But I usually just sit at the desk over there and chill until it's time to cart them off to the truck. It's not like the dead bodies are going to give you any trouble..."
I attempted a chuckle, but it sounded more like a wimpy attempt to clear my throat.
"Sounds all well and good. I've got some paperwork I need to catch up on anyway, so-"
My sentence was interrupted by the shrill cry of a telephone ring. I gulped, not knowing just what kind of phone call this could be. I hoped it was merely a call to inform Terence of Dr. Hansen's sudden ailment.
Terence answered the phone, bereft of enthusiasm. He listened to the speaker for a short while before looking over at me. His eyes were lazy and tired, and from that I assumed that it was a routine phone call, and not one that I had to worry about.
"Yes... Yes... Doctor Lecter is here to assume Dr. Hansen's duties. What? Well... I guess he never said that you told him to report for duty here. They guy's probably sick of talking to patients, maybe he needs to be around some dead bodies for a while, the fuck do I know? Alright... alright yes sir... I'll tell him. Buh-bye."
I stood there expectantly, hoping to the non-existent God in heaven that I was not about to be reassigned.
"The boss says you can stay here till midnight. He's called in another medical examiner but they won't be here until tomorrow morning. We need to turn the refrigeration units on in case the staff need to hold bodies here overnight."
"Sounds good." I tamped down my relief, knowing that I had at least another six hours until Gragon would be wheeling up on a body cart, waiting for me to declare him dead. I still had plenty of time in which I could get transferred, or caught somehow. I'd done an excellent job of covering my tracks, but I knew the moment I let my guard down that would be the moment I make a mistake.
...XoXoXo...XoXoXo...XoXoXo...XoXoXo...
"That's three now; my word, I don't remember processing so many dead bodies back when I first started here..."
"The prisoner count has probably quadrupled since you got here six years ago; it's a simple matter of statistics." I could tell that Terence felt a great deal of pride, using such big words. He may have actually read a book sometime in the last decade.
"Yes, it must be... You must get tired of hauling around dead bodies."
"It's a job; gets me a decent apartment and food every week so I have no complaints. Besides, nothing could be worse than the time we were without an M.E. for a weekend and the refrigeration units failed. In the morning we came back to a putrid smell that didn't wash out for weeks."
...XoXoXo...XoXoXo...XoXoXo...XoXoXo...
The rest of the afternoon and evening went much like this; I used my faulty EKG that I secretly switched with the working one, just so Terence would not notice later that it was a little different looking. (It's not like I was ever going to be able to find the exact model...) I could tell a dead body from a living one, and every single one brought in that day were very clearly, most definitely dead, regardless of whether or not my EKG monitor worked.
I felt a little calmer as the hours passed, but when late evening approached, I became increasingly anxious again. I knew that soon, Gragon would take the pills I gave him, and in short order the guards would find him actively seizing and foaming at the mouth, followed by a catatonic state that would most certainly fool the guards into thinking he was dead.
Just as I ran through the plan in my head for the millionth time that day, I heard a familiar pounding sound on the morgue door. Half a second later I heard the sound of the metal cart scraping along the swinging doors as the cart forced them open: another body.
My stomach lurched and I set my jaw as I saw the dark-skinned feet protruding from the split in the doors, followed by the rest of the body, still dressed in grey prisoner scrubs.
The face was completely overgrown with a wildly unruly beard, making a first glance nearly impossible to make a positive ID. But I still knew; this was my lost-lost friend: Jack Crawford; more commonly known by his hacker name: Gragon.
"Fresh off the block, doc." The maximum security guard was thankfully a different man than the one I passed the day before, when I planted the pills in the porridge.
"This one's been in the can for a long time. Hasn't seen daylight in years."
"Cause of death?" I asked once the frog in my throat had cleared.
"The fuck do I know?" He said harshly. "The dude just keeled over, was foaming at the mouth. He's probably got a brain tumor, like half the other alphas his age."
"Yes, well alright. Thank you for bringing him in. Have a nice night."
"Yeah." The guard scoffed sarcastically. "This dude's the last of the rebellion leaders; the max security ward's empty now; tomorrow I find out if I'm out of a job or if I get reassigned to real work; hard labor. What am I going to tell my mate, huh? So no; tonight is not going to be a nice night. See ya."
The man unintentionally projected saliva onto my face while he chewed me out, and I wisely waited until he was out of sight before wiping it away with my labcoat sleeve.
"Well." Terence said, nonplussed. "Bad day for both guys."
He glanced briefly at Jack's "dead" body, but before he looked for very long I pushed the cart further into the morgue, hoping not to arouse suspicion.
"I'll be done with this one in a few. Like he said; probably brain tumor."
In addition to proclaiming death, I was tasked with finding a general cause of death, in the hopes of being able to identify viral infections before they would wipe out the entire BCA division. A year ago, a viral meningitis strain, because it was missed in the morgue, went rampant for six weeks and killed more than a hundred people; forty of them were BCA.
Despite my increased nervousness, I had to go through the motions: I took a quick skin scraping from the heel of Jack's hand using a flat razor blade and added the test solution to the piece of paper that held flakes of skin. I watched the paper turn a purple hue, signifying a negative meningitis result. The broken EKG was placed and I watched as the "flatline" rode endlessly across the screen for about twenty seconds, and said:
"Yes, dead as nails."
I pretended to fill out some paperwork for the usual amount of time that I took for the previous bodies, and tried not to grow increasingly nervous that Terence was suddenly very interested in my work. He left me alone for the entire shift and now he wanted to watch? His studiousness could not have come at a worse time.
I glanced at my watch... three minutes since he'd been brought in. That meant Gragon had gone without breathing for roughly five minutes.
"Terence." I said, trying not to sound rushed.
"I am feeling a bit peckish. Think you could go sneak us something from the cafeteria? I've got things covered, here."
"Sure thing." He took the hint, probably assuming that he was simply annoying me; doctors do get annoyed so easily, it seems.
The instant he turned his back, I turned mine, and I pulled out the syringe I had ready and waiting in my pocket. Quick as a flash, the cap was off, and the needle plunged into my friend's neck.
Terence left without looking behind him, and for that, I was grateful. I had about ten minutes before he would be back.
"Come on..." I said under my breath. "Come on, you stupid Alpha." I goaded my unconscious friend.
Seeing nothing happen, I felt for a carotid pulse. It was thready, but still there.
"Breathe, you idiot." I said sharply, yet still quietly. I had nothing in the way of lifesaving medical equipment; this was a morgue after all. Seeing no other option at the moment, I reacted the only way I knew how. I tilted his hairy head back, pinched his nose, quickly sealed my lips around his, and gave a good puff of air, hopefully into his lungs, and not his stomach.
I repeated the action a few more times and checked for a pulse again. This time I had to feel around for a few seconds before realizing that there was none.
"Damn you, Jack." I said almost too loudly before getting into position to start some emergency chest compressions.
Half a second before my first attempt at CPR, I saw a twitch. Followed by a sudden rise of the chest, followed by a gasping sound.
"Oh... Thank heavens..." I sighed, looking around self consciously, making sure no one was watching. I was grateful that there we were already positioned in the camera's blindspot.
"H-Hannibal? Is that you?"
"Yes, yes it is." I had no time. "We're running a bit short on time though, I need you to keep pretending to be dead, alright? Just lie still."
The cart was heavy, but luckily all the wheels worked just fine and I followed the long, narrow hallway out to the loading dock, where Terence had brought the other bodies earlier.
Just then, I heard a loud clatter and shouts. The shouting was coming from the loading dock.
I smiled a little, knowing that my plan was working: Alana was getting caught trying to escape. The plan was to have Jakov and Will deactivate the cameras in the hallway, making it appear as though it was technical malfunction. A technician would realize the cell door that was sitting vacant, door wide open, and send out an alert for an escaped prisoner. The first place they would look? The most likely route of escape: the loading dock.
Everything was going according to plan.
...XoXoXo...
I huffed and puffed a little while pushing the cart seemingly uphill, down the hallway and over a big bump in the middle of the door threshold to outside.
I made a beeline from the door to the "stiff truck," parked practically right in front of the door, and glanced over to witness the major amount of hubbub occurring over the feisty Omega that had just been discovered in the linen cart.
"Let go of me, you asshole!" A shrill cry rang out from the small girl, yelling with all her might to the Beta guard who found her there, and was attempting to apprehend her.
During her struggle, she made brief eye contact with me, and I could tell that she knew: this was my plan all along: for her to be the diversion; the distraction so no one would pay any mind to the unauthorized Doctor driving away with the truck of dead bodies.
"You! You bastard!" She screamed. "I will kill you!"
I diverted my eyes from the situation and continued to load the cart into the truck.
"Alright. I'm going to get you off of this cart, and then we will go. Sorry about the accommodations..." I whispered to my old friend just before dragging him ungracefully off of the cart and onto the floor of the truck.
"Hannibal." I heard him groan quietly once I'd set him down.
"Yes?" I knew I had no time.
"You are a bastard."
I smiled, knowing that my friend was truly back.
I walked out of the box truck's cargo compartment just in time to see the small, scrawny Omega bite the Beta on the arm, hard, and tear away like a bat out of hell.
Well, would you look at that... she got away. I thought to myself bemusedly. I doubted she would make it past the twelve-foot concrete barricade, or through the main gate with the twenty guards, but I had to give her credit for tenacity.
The drop-down door pulled closed like an orchestra of rusted violins, but once it was secured, I was on the move.
The truck drove slowly over all the potholes and through the muddy gravel road, and I tried my best to not look too rushed. I saw a gaggle of guards running full speed through the sloppy, muddy terrain, trying to catch up with the escaped prisoner. As far as scapegoats went, it looked like I'd chosen very wisely indeed.
I stopped at the rear gate and showed my ID badge, my real one, to the guard.
The guard was hardly even looking at me, he was too busy watching the eventful chase across the lot. Without a second glance he waved me through, and I felt elated as we passed the final gauntlet.
Now, we were free.
I pulled the truck over at the nearest convenient location out on a service road, and I opened the cargo door.
Jack was already standing, waiting for me to get him out of there. I thought I saw a smile from behind all the facial hair, but it was hard to tell. He hopped out of the truck, and he embraced me. He smelled like he hadn't showered in months, and his hair tickled me all over, but I allowed the embrace all the same.
"It's good to see you, after all these years." I said, sounding congested while refusing to breathe through my nose.
"You too, Hann. Thanks for busting me out."
"No trouble." He let go of me and I let out the air I'd been holding in my lungs.
"Yeah, I know, I need a bath. You got a change of clothes for me?"
"Afraid not. But I'll do you one better. Jakov's got a hotel room waiting for us uptown."
"Jakov's still around?"
"Now more than ever. Though he is still living with a his spinal cord injury, half a kidney, one lung and a third of a liver, so the 'how' is a little bit of a mystery."
"Pretty sure that guy could be missing his brain and he'd still be taking freelance gigs."
...XoXoXo...XoXoXo...
Gragon and I showed up to the checkpoint hotel all smiles and jokes. He still smelled like a heady, unwashed Alpha but his mind was still sharp as it ever was. Other than his smell and his looks, I could hardly tell that he had been in isolation for seven years.
Will was sitting on one of the beds in the hotel room, looking at me wide-eyed and relieved the moment I walked in the door.
Gragon hesitantly followed me inside, and I could tell that he was a little ashamed of his appearance, and all too eager to clean up in the bathroom. He quickly excused himself into the bathroom before any introductions could be made.
"Hannibal! You made it!" Will was in my arms in a flash.
"Jakov and I were really worried. Did... did everything work? We disabled the cameras remotely just like you said and-"
"It all worked perfectly, Will. We're safe here for now. Gragon is getting cleaned up and we'll be leaving the city soon."
Jakov was sitting in his wheelchair, looking at me with a combination of awe and skepticism.
"You heard the news right?" He said to me from across the room.
"President's been assassinated. The whole city is practically on lock down. They're not letting any civilians out of the city; not now, and probably not for a few years."
"Yes, but don't worry. I've adapted some of the plan, and I've got us an even better way out of here."
"Really?" Will smelled and sounded frightened; nervous that all of this success was at risk of turning sour.
"Yes, really. You're just going to have to trust me."
"We do." Jakov assured me.
"Good. Because it's not going to be a very fun ride."
For the time being, I knew that I had to comfort my Omega. He smelled faintly of despair and mourning, as though he had lost hope at some point in the afternoon while I was away. And there was no doubt that such a tumultuous emotional roller coaster exhausted the poor boy.
I cuddled with him on the far bed; platonically, since Jakov was still present and Gragon was bound to finish in the bathroom eventually. Will sniffed and practically bathed in my comforting scent for a long while, whimpering here and there, making adorable cuddling noises.
At least an hour after Gragon had disappeared into the hotel bathroom, he emerged, shaved and shirtless, looking very much like his old self, except far skinnier. He was still tall and broad shouldered, but his face was gaunt, and his collar bone and ribcage were easily visible through his skin.
"Feeling better?" I asked from across the room. I was currently attempting to detangle myself from my clingy Omega.
"Much..." Jack said with a hesitance in his voice.
"Is... this... your mate?" He sounded almost disapproving, looking over my Omega like one would appraise a mare or a steer.
"Future mate, yes." Will said a little defensively.
"Jack, this is Will. Will, this is Jack, also known as Gragon."
"Nice to meet you." Will said without an ounce of genuine feeling.
"Good to see you made it!" Jakov broke the awkward stare-down that was occurring between Alpha and Omega.
"Jakov, my old friend. I heard you got locked up trying to come see me a few years ago."
"Yeah... Hannibal's hair-brained scheme got my thrown in the can for a few days, but it was nothing I couldn't handle."
"Well hopefully we have all the time in the world now, I'm sure once we've left the city we can get back to some hair-brained schemes of our own."
Jakov smiled at that, but Will hadn't let up an inch. The hairs on the back of his neck were sticking straight up and he had gooseflesh all over. I felt it when I reached for his arm to get his attention.
"Will, darling?"
"What?" He snapped momentarily, but softened when he realized just how tense he was.
"Can I speak with you? In private?"
He huffed, but complied and followed me to the bathroom. I heard a muffled conversation continuing on between Jakov and Jack and I hoped it was nothing to do with Will's little defensive display.
"What is going on with you?" I asked him the moment we were in a reasonably private spot.
"Nothing." Will attempted.
"I don't believe that for a moment. You are acting very defensive around Gragon. You don't even know him."
"But you did... didn't you and him used to be... together? I mean you lived together, right?"
I sighed.
"Is that what this is about? You are jealous of our relationship? Will, I assure you, the only thing I feel for Jack is a deeply rooted friendship. That is it."
"So you were together."
"In a way, yes."
Will seemed to shut down, upon hearing that.
"Please don't shut me out." I implored.
"I... I don't know what to think. It's not like you cheated on me or anything but I feel... hurt; jealous of what you and he had."
"There's no need, Will. Honestly... Jack never made me feel as good as you make me feel; our connection means something; in fact it means everything to me."
My Omega nodded, seemingly understanding now.
"Okay but... it doesn't mean I have to like him... right?"
"Right. But give him a chance at least, would you?"
...XoXoXo...XoXoXo...
Will and Jack sat meters apart for the rest of our time at the hotel, almost refusing to look at each other. Jack was being almost as immature as Will had been. I could tell that Jack was hoping he could pick things up from where they left off before his arrest, once he was finally out of prison. I could only imagine the shock that he received when he realized that I was in a relationship, and monogamously so.
"So Hannibal, what's the plan for tonight? How the hell are we going to get out of the city?" Jakov questioned without reservation.
"We're using the truck. And I'm sorry to say this, but you're not exactly going to like the other passengers..."
...XoXoXo...XoXoXo...XoXoXo...XoXoXo...
The road to the city border was bumpier than most. I cringed as I heard the loud ruckus of bodies, both alive and dead, swishing about in the back of the box truck.
The trip to the border was short, but tense. I was understandably quite nervous about our plans to cross the border, what with the political unrest and the citywide lockdown.
I had to hope that my rouse would be good enough to get our truck over the border, and straight to freedom.
"Next!" I heard the guard call out while he waved me closer to the barricade. I inched the truck forward, careful not to appear too eager to leave.
"Your business, sir?"
"Just bringing these bodies to the Hensley Lab. I've got my paperwork if you need it..." I pretended to fish around my driver's compartment, looking for a nonexistent bundle of paperwork.
"Shouldn't be necessary." The man sounded bored.
"Just need to run your plate and you should be good to go."
The guard turned away and for a split second I was tempted to just ram through the metal gate. I could do it; the truck would make it without any trouble... But there were at least a dozen armed guards at the gate; we wouldn't make it more than a hundred yards before our tires would be shot to hell, right along with the escape plans.
I watched as the guard stood at his kiosk computer, looking concerned. His facial expression sent off alarm bells in my head, which only rang louder when I saw the guard use his radio, no doubt to alert someone of a problem.
It took me half a second before I realized: the BCA had reported the truck as stolen already, hours ahead of schedule.
My pulse thudded in my ears while I felt the moment develop in slow motion. The guard was approaching my vehicle, a scowl on his face. But as he approached the truck door, that was when my instincts kicked in. I swiftly swung the door open, hitting him squarely in the face and knocking him down.
Then I slammed the door shut, and the gas pedal down to the floor, causing the truck to instantly roar to life and leap into action.
The deafening screech and squeal of metal bending and breaking was short lived, and quickly replaced by the loud pops of gun fire. The windshield of the truck had a spiderweb pattern stretched along the entire length now, and I was so fixed on driving as fast as I could to really know if it was from a ricocheted bullet, or a result of plowing through the barred gate. We made it about a five hundred yards, miraculously, and I thought that by then we would be in the clear.
But it was then that detrimentally loud noises exploded in my ear drums, and the entire truck cab was suddenly careening quickly towards the ground. It took half a second for me to realize that the front axle had broken - more like shattered - and that these last four feet it traveled skidding to a stop would be the last of this truck's usefulness.
I flung the driver's side door open and hopped out, knowing that staying would be a death sentence; running, we at least had a chance.
I pounded rapidly on the side of the box truck as I ran to the backside, hoping that I could get my colleagues out before we all got shot.
The roll-up door opened a few feet and suddenly all of my friends were falling out, including Jakov, without his wheelchair. I picked up my crippled friend off of the dusty ground and ran as fast as my feet could carry me.
Darkness was our friend in this situation, as the guards ere surely still scrambling to get their rarely-used spotlight together in order to find us in the pitch black of the night.
I heard shouts, even gunfire, but I just kept running, having faith that Will and Jack were hot on my trail.
I didn't slow down for a second. Not until I found a shell of an abandoned mini van, left long ago and every useful piece scavanged from it. The car still served as a barricade between myself and the guns at the gate, which now sat about two thousand feet away.
"Fuck!" I'd heard Jakov cry out at some point.
"What's wrong?"
"I fucking got shot, that's what's wrong!"
"Where?"
"H-here." Jakov pointed to his right side, where through the darkness I could vaguely see a dark patch of red seeping through his clothes... Now blood was everywhere.
"You got hit too. Looks like the bullet went through you first..."
I stared down at my torso in disbelief and realized that he was right. I was shot. The adrenaline rushing through my veins must have numbed me to the pain thus far.
Blood soaked through my clothes but I ignored it as I tried to place pressure on my friend's chest wound.
I heard a gurgling sound and I realized that the bullet had entered his chest cavity, where his last good lung was.
"Oh fuck, no.. Jesus, Jakov, you can't do this to me." I quickly ripped off my bloody shirt and tried to hold a firmer pressure on the bubbling wound, but I knew this was it; this was the end of the line for my longtime neighbor and friend.
I heard a scuffled of gravel and dirt, and the huge form of an Alpha was suddenly right next to me: Jack. And he was carrying Will, who appeared to be scared, but unharmed.
"You... You take care of that kid, okay?" Jakov gasped, using every ounce of effort he left to talk through the pain and the collapsing lung.
"I will, Jakov. I promise."
His breathing turned suddenly extremely shallow, and he went eerily quiet. I knew he wasn't officially dead yet, but it was over... There was nothing I could do.
Will's arms were around me in an embrace, and I felt him recoil in shock when he felt just how much blood was pouring from my abdomen.
"Hannibal!" Will gasped.
"You're hurt!"
The bullet could have nicked my descending aorta, but I doubted it. I would recover, I was sure of it... As long as I put some pressure on it...
"OVER HERE!" A shout pierced the air moments after the sound of distant shots had ceased, and I knew it wasn't the voice of a friendly. A BCA Guard had found us. This was it... It was all over now.. There was no getting out of this. Everything was doomed. I'd failed us all.
That was the last thing I thought before everything went dark.
...XoXoXo...XoXoXo...