Chapter 3

Malcolm didn't have much time to process the scene before him as his adrenaline told him to run. None of the cops outside had noticed him so as stealthily as he could he ran towards the back of the house. His plan was to leave through the back door but one glance through the back window revealed to him that there was an officer walking around the back yard so he quickly dismissed it. Trying not to panic Malcolm abruptly spun around and to his relief a staircase he hadn't noticed before appeared to his left. As he hastily ran up the stairs there was a loud crash at the front door, signalling the cops had now broken the door down and were entering the house.

The adrenaline rush seemingly over, Malcolm began to panic. Reaching the top of the stairs he ran into the first room he could see, which turned out to be the master bedroom. As soundlessly as he could he ran to the closet, pulling the door closed behind him. The sound of heavy footsteps and shouting voices were growing closer as cops were running up the stairs towards Malcolm's hiding spot.

"It's over! Come out with your hands up or we'll shoot!" Malcolm heard one yell.

Instinctively he grabbed the door and held it closed as if holding it would keep him from being found. Suddenly, it hit Malcolm. The space he was in seemed a little roomy for a closet. He should have felt clothes on his back and shoes at his feet but there was nothing. Also, closets weren't supposed to be so bright, weren't they?

Malcolm turned around and realized that it wasn't a closet he was in, it was a bathroom and to his delight, above the sink was a window! It was just big enough for him to squeeze through so with one last look at the door Malcolm let go and made a break for it. Cops had now entered the master bedroom but he ignored them in favour of climbing onto the sink and lifting himself through the window. Conveniently to his right was a drain pipe that he grabbed hold of, swinging the rest of his body with him and held on tight. Holding on wasn't so bad, it was the climbing down that was the tricky part.

Malcolm thought back to all those times when he and Reese would pull pranks on their neighbours and would need the drain pipe as an escape route. Reese had always been better at this. He would always climb up and down them so effortlessly that Malcolm couldn't help but admire his brother.

"I wonder if he's okay," Malcolm said aloud, pulling him back to reality. A tear formed in his eye and was about to fall when he heard the bathroom door abruptly swing open. The tear disappeared as Malcolm looked down to see that the pipe he was holding onto was on the side of the house that he and his brother had come through on their way to the back door the night before. He could see the gate was still closed but beyond that were flashing lights of police cars. His grip on the pipe began to weaken but regaining his adrenaline rush Malcolm was able to hold on long enough to awkwardly climb down to the ground below. Then he stopped. He had no idea what to do next.

The back fence looked calm and inviting, he could easily jump it to his freedom while the gate to his left was a gateway to his doom. Depression suddenly washed over him as he realized what he had to do. Sure he could just jump over the fence and run but the cops weren't idiots, they had found him before and they would find him again. Not to mention he was on foot and probably wouldn't get very far anyway. It was broad daylight and he had nowhere to go. He really needed time to think but that was time that he didn't have.

Malcolm sighed loudly. The he heard footsteps. He'd completely forgotten about the cop in the backyard! Malcolm made a break for the gate, hearing the cop call out behind him as he ran.

"Hey! You really don't wanna do that, son!" But didn't listen and within seconds he was on the other side of the gate, face to face with at least 8 officers, all pointing their guns at him.

"Well, well, well. Not so smart after all, are we?" The smartly dressed cop with a moustache chuckled smugly. "Here I've been searching all over the district for you and now you're handing yourself on a silver platter. I guess I should be thanking you for making my job easier." He laughed again but Malcolm ignored him. Instead he reached under his jacket, silently praying that this would work. It did.

"He's got a gun!" An officer shouted. Within seconds shots were firing. Malcolm gasped as one of them hit his chest, causing him to fall backwards to the ground. The last thing he saw was Detective Redford's sly grin as he looked over him. Then there was darkness.

Malcolm wasn't sure what woke him up. It could have been the incessant beeping that went straight through his brain, the agonising pain in his chest or maybe the voices that seemed to be all around him even though they could only be coming from the one person. For a moment he wanted to drift back to sleep but it was too late. The racket of noises that he had become aware of was too irritating, so he opened his eyes instead.

The vision he received was so blinding though that he had to blink a few times just to get used to it. When his eyes adjusted to the light, he found that he was in a hospital room. A very white hospital room.

The voices he had heard turned out to be a doctor and a nurse who were conversing at the foot of his bed. Malcolm went to rub his painful chest but found he couldn't as his wrist had been cuffed to the bed. The clanking of the handcuffs alerted the doctor and nurse. They both stared at him for a moment and Malcolm wondered why the nurse was wearing an operating mask. The doctor then excused himself from the room, leaving the nurse who made her way over to Malcolm's side.

"Am I contagious?" Malcolm blurted out before he could stop himself. The nurse stared at him for a little longer before chuckling.

"Oh Malcolm, you were always a funny one."

"Wait, how do you…." Malcolm trailed off.

"Don't worry, Malcolm. It's all going to be okay." The voice sounded familiar but Malcolm couldn't quite place it. Then the nurse removed her face mask, revealing her identity.

"Piama!" Malcolm exclaimed. Piama raised her finger to her lips, signalling him to be quiet.

"Shh, here my name is Bianca," she said, winking at him. Malcolm smiled in response. "So how are you feeling?"

"Well, I'm pretty tired and my chest is sore but other than that I can't complain," he answered. "So how long have I been out of it?" He asked. Piama looked up in thought.

"You were brought here yesterday morning, sent straight to the operating room and when the surgery was over you were put in an induced coma. So I'd say about 26 hours. I hope you're feeling well rested," she finished with a chuckle but then turned serious. "You're a very lucky young man, Malcolm. The bullet didn't end up doing much damage and the blood you lost has been replaced but you'll be sore for a while," Piama explained as Malcolm absentmindedly rubbed over the pain in his chest with his free hand. He cleared his throat.

"So when can I get out of here?" Piama thought for a moment before answering.

"Uh, well the short answer is we're working on it."

"Working on it?" Malcolm raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, in case you haven't noticed young man you've just gotten out of major surgery! Plus we have those to contend with!" Piama pointed to the handcuffs.

"Okay, I get it," Malcolm mumbled in irritation. He thought for a moment and then came up with an idea. "Piama, do you have any hair pins? I could use one to pick the lock." Piama opened her mouth to respond but before she could she was interrupted by someone bursting through the door. The figure was wearing white scrubs similar to what Piama was wearing and had an all too familiar smile on his face.

"Francis!" Malcolm exclaimed excitedly.

"Hey buddy," Francis greeted while walking over to stand next to his wife. "It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you too." Malcolm said through his smile. Francis' smile then disappeared from his face.

"You gave us quite a fright there, Malcolm. I don't know why you would do something so stupid. Did you forget that we need you alive?" Francis looked annoyed

"No," Malcolm answered with a small voice of a child who was in trouble, gaining him an unimpressed glare from his older brother. Francis clearly wanted to keep going but Piama cut in.

"Francis, yell at him later! Right now you need to focus." Francis turned his glare to her but then sighed in defeat.

"Okay, you're right," he calmed down. "Now where were we?"

I was just asking Piama if she had anything I could use to pick the lock on these cuffs," Malcolm explained while lifting his cuffed hand up to show Francis.

"Oh, well there's no need for that," Francis replied casually as he fumbled around the pockets of his scrubs. Malcolm and Piama looked at each other, wondering what Francis meant. Noticing their confusion Francis smiled then continued.

"There's no need for that because I managed to get my hands on these," he said triumphantly as he held up a set of keys. Malcolm's face lit up as he realized what they were for.

"Good job, honey!" Piama praised her husband as he unlocked the cuffs.

"How did you get them?" Malcolm asked with a smirk on his face. Francis chuckled.

"Malcolm, before I was sent to military school I was actually quite the little delinquent, remember? I learnt how to steal keys when I was 7," Francis winked and Malcolm chuckled as Piama shook her head in disapproval.

"Okay," she began, changing the subject. "It's time to get you out of here, Malcolm." She smiled at Malcolm before turning away and leaving the room.

"Where's she going?" Malcolm asked his brother.

"To find you a mode of transportation." Francis answered.

"Huh?" Malcolm didn't understand.

"She's getting you a wheelchair, doofus." Malcolm rolled his eyes then suddenly he remembered something.

"Francis!" He exclaimed in panic.

"What?" Francis asked in shock.

"Is Reese here?" A now worried Malcolm asked.

"Reese? What do you mean? Why would Reese be here?" The look on Malcolm's face concerned Francis.

"Francis, he was shot too! Are you sure he's not here somewhere?"

"No, he's definitely not here. I would have seen him if he was. Are you sure he was shot?"

"Yes, Francis! I saw them shoot him!" Malcolm shot back angrily.

"Malcolm, calm down. I'm sorry he's not here but don't worry, we'll find him." Francis caught Malcolm's gaze in his and for a moment, the two brothers stared at each other, worry etched in both of their faces.

"I wonder where he is then." Malcolm murmured softly. Francis wanted to say something to comfort his brother but before he could something burst through the door at a fast speed. They both looked up in alarm to see Piama with a wheelchair looking quite distressed.

"It's time to go," she told them quickly, panting. "There are cops coming this way!" At those words Francis sprang into action. He ripped the IV in Malcolm's arm out, making him wince, then grabbed hold of his brother and forcefully pushed him into the awaiting wheelchair.

"Ouch! Be careful!" Malcolm cried out in pain.

"No time!" Francis said quickly. "Now let's go!"

"You two go on ahead, I'll hold them off," Piama told Francis.

"Wait what?" Francis looked at her fearfully.

"Just go!" Piama cried out as she ran from the room and out of their sight. For a moment Francis was too stunned to move, all he could do was stare at the spot his wife had just left, as if she were still there.

"Come on, Francis! Let's go!" Malcolm snapped him out of it.

"Oh…oh yeah, okay," Francis stuttered but did as he was told, pushing Malcolm through the bathroom and into the adjoining patients room. Francis then ran to the door, quickly checking to see if the coast was clear, then pushed Malcolm through the doorway and into the hall. There were a few doctors and nurses around but they were too busy with their work to notice Francis and Malcolm making their getaway. There were no cops though, which is what was most important. Francis made it to the elevator and pushed Malcolm's chair in, pressed the button for the very bottom level then continually tapped the button to make the doors close. When they closed, both brothers let out a sigh of relief. So far they hadn't been caught.

When they reached the bottom level the doors opened to reveal an underground carpark, the exit and front of the hospital just up a small hill at the other end. There was no sign of any police or their vehicles so wasting no time Francis rushed out of the elevator and hurriedly twisted and turned through the parked cars, heading for the exit. Instead of heading for the normal exit though, Francis turned Malcolm's wheelchair to the left.

"Where are we going?" Malcolm asked.

"Through there," Francis puffed out as he pointed at a door which was about 30 metres ahead of them. While they were running/wheeling along, the sound of police sirens started going off from outside the carpark. Malcolm gasped.

"It's okay," Francis assured him. "They won't find us where we're going." When they reached the door, Francis ripped it open and pushed Malcolm through hastily into an alleyway. A dumpster was sitting against the carpark wall too their left. Abandoning Malcolm for a moment, Francis rushed to the dumpster and grabbed something that was behind it. It was a bag, which he promptly threw at Malcolm.

"Here, put these on," he told Malcolm.

"Okay," Malcolm grabbed the bag and unzipped it. Inside were some clothes. Francis continued.

"When you get changed, throw your hospital clothes in the dumpster and abandon the chair."

"Got it," Malcolm gave him a thumbs up. Francis knelt down so he was face to face with his brother.

"After that you'll need to get out of here. At the end of the alleyway turn left and don't look back." Malcolm looked up in shock.

"Wait, what about you? Aren't you coming too?" He asked. Francis looked away and stood up.

"No, I'm not coming," he answered. "I have to stay here and find Piama." Malcolm saw the pain in his brother's eyes. He let out a long sigh.

"Okay, I understand," he said sadly.

"Good," Francis looked into Malcolm's eyes and smiled a little. "Be careful, okay?"

"Of course," was all that Malcolm could say through the lump in his throat. Francis nodded in encouragement and made his way back to the door.

"Remember, Malcolm. Save our family." Malcolm gulped and nodded in response. Francis flashed him one last smile then disappeared back through the door they had both come out from. Malcolm sighed before remembering his instructions.

He quickly changed into the clothes that were in the bag, dumped the old clothes in the dumpster and made his way out of the alleyway. Cautiously he checked to see if anyone was around but to his surprise he was completely alone. To Malcolm it seemed odd, surely the authorities had noticed he was gone and surely there should be hundreds of officers swarming the hospital, searching for him. Malcolm didn't care though, it meant that he would be able to take advantage of this situation and make his escape unhindered.

A smile crept upon Malcolm's lips as he calmly strolled out from the alley, turning left as his brother had told him and kept walking, not looking back. In front of him was a residential street and parked on the side of the road was a yellow car. Malcolm grinned, laughed loudly, approached the vehicle and got in. The yellow car then sped off, disappearing into the distance.