I listened to the door for a moment. When I heard nothing, I cracked it open, peering into the hallway.
I knew they had cameras recording me behind the one way, but judging by what I had seen a few minutes ago, nobody actually watched.
It definitely looked like a hospital.
I hate hospitals.
Gray corridors stretched both ways, into a maze of other gray corridors.
I had to find a way out. Somehow.
But first, Gertie.
Nobody seemed to be patrolling the area, at least for the moment.
Like any hospital, signs told you directions. Although it would be clever to throw people off by not having any, the government didn't want their employees getting lost on the way to the bathroom...or Room 206.
I tiptoed down a corridor, peering around the corner.
One security guard, stepping into a restroom.
I had to go too, but this wasn't the time. I followed the signage, checking numbers on the closed metal doors.
Hearing footsteps, I slipped into a breakroom, diving under a table.
A pair of boots clomped in, a figure in green clothing putting change into a Coke machine.
The stranger grabbed a glass bottle, tugged on it, but the roll bars refused to let go of the product.
He shook the machine, kicked it with his boot, tried to pull the bottle free again.
"Son of a bitch."
Still grumbling, he bought a packet of cigarettes from the machine next to it.
The moment he lit up, his Coke popped out of the other machine, shattering on the floor, liquid pooling my way. I shrank back as it seeped under the table.
The man swore, got himself a coffee instead.
He slurped the drink. I flinched when the man noisily snatched up wads of paper towels.
The bulky figure squatted down to clean up the mess. My heart leapt into my throat when his head turned my way.
With as much silence as I could muster, I darted out from under the table, racing into the hallway with my pulse pounding in my head.
201...202...My footsteps sounded deafening on the ugly off-yellow tiles.
At the door to 206, I pulled out my key, trying the lock.
It didn't work. I mean, why would it? Some guy just tucked it in the padded wall.
I sighed. If Gertie was in there, how would I get her out?
The sound of bootsteps echoed through the hallway.
Although not very smart to make noise, I had to know if Henry was right, so I knocked.
"Gertie!" I hissed.
No answer.
"Gertie!" Any louder and the guy in boots would hear me. I kept knocking.
"Big brother?" I could just barely hear her through the door.
"Gertie!"
"How'd you get out?"
"It doesn't matter! I...I'm going to get you out of there...somehow." I glanced back up the hallway, trying to think if I'd seen any place that might contain a bobby pin or a paper clip.
To my absolute surprise, the door popped open, and there was my sister, also clad in a bland prison uniform, her hair robbed of decoration.
Gertie rushed up and hugged me, crying on my chest. "I want mommy!"
I didn't ask how the door got open. There wasn't time. I just rubbed her back. "Me too. C'mon. Let's get out of here."
Easier said than done. No clear exits except a fire door that would set off an alarm the moment you pushed on the handle. I had to steer my sister away from one when we passed it. "Too noisy! They'll be waiting for us the moment we get outside!"
Figuring the men hadn't taken me far from their front door, I retraced my steps back toward my cell. Admittedly not the greatest plan, but all I could think of at the moment.
"How did you get out?" I whispered as I led Gertie past my room.
"I don't know, it just came open. What about you?"
"A monkey helped me."
"Henry, you mean?"
I stopped, gawking at her. "That's really his name? How...?"
She shrugged, answering my question the wrong way. "I asked the nice lady with the granola bars."
I frowned. "You got granola bars?"
Gertie nodded. "What did you get for breakfast?"
"Never mind," I groaned, pulling her further down the tunnel.
We snuck past a room full of ladies with electric typewriters, file cabinets and noisy phones. Guys in white shirts and ties tended refrigerator sized machines labeled RAMAC 305.
The sounds of clacking steel letters, phone conversations, mimeograph and Xerox machines filled the air. A fancy new telephone beeped as it made copies.
"I think that black lady saw us," Gertie whispered.
Scowling, I glanced back for a second. "Seriously?"
Literally only one non-white face sat in the sea of women in skirted military uniforms. The woman didn't look up from her hammering typewriter. Since nobody else looked suspicious, I tugged on my sister's arm. "C'mon."
"That lady looked lonely."
"Do you want to keep her company, or do you want to see mom?"
Gertie whimpered, clutching my hand.
We cracked a set of double doors, slipped into the next hallway.
Spotting a guard in a glass windowed security booth, we both ducked, creeping below his field of vision.
"What now?" Gertie hissed.
"I don't know." I pointed to a second set of doors. "If we move that in any way, he'll see us."
Something made gibbering noises, then the door to the booth creaked open.
"Henry!" Gertie exclaimed.
"Shh!" I pointed to the second double doors.
"But what about Henry?"
The guard shouted as the monkey screeched and attacked him. "I think he's helping us. C'mon."
The door ahead was locked, but my key actually worked. We entered another gray hallway.
"Now what do we do?"
"I...haven't thought that far ahead."
Hearing the sound of clopping high heels, we pressed our backs against a near door, the recessed frame offering us a slight amount of concealment.
The heels clopped closer.
A female figure stepped around the corner. White lady, red hair, gray pantsuit.
"Hey! It's the nice lady!"
Gertie moved her arm to wave, but I held it down. "We can't trust her!"
Marching closer, the woman smiled and waved back. "Hello, children."
Henry came scampering up to her, climbing up on her shoulder.
The ape made soft "Ook" noises, saying `I'm sorry' with his face. The woman fed him a biscuit.
The door behind me came open, and a pair of soldiers grabbed us.