The Queer Rebels

Chapter 2: Running

Lights flash and the alarm's high pitched beeping gnaws at my eardrums as I sprint out the door and down the hallway. My throat tightens. People are coming behind me. Chasing me.

This is the last thing I expected to happen today, but I don't have time to stop and think.

She told me to run.

So I run.

All the doors in the hallway look the same. Although with the strobing lights and blaring alarm, my eyes can't focus on anything as I pass.

When I reach the end of the hall, I turn.

Then, I see it: a bright red exit sign with an arrow pointed at a door.

Footsteps pound down the hallway, a deep thrum underlying the high-pitched wail of the sirens.

I sprint towards the sign to the stairs, grab the handle, and throw my shoulder against the door.

Boom! A dull pain travels down the length of my upper arm as I thud against unmoving metal.

I yank hard on the handle and pull, but it doesn't budge.

It's locked.

Footsteps sound from the other direction, seemingly coming from everywhere. They're closing in.

I jiggle the handle as hard as I can. "Please, please, please."

No luck.

I look down at the plastic card the orderly gave me. It's about the same size and weight as my ID card that tracks my credits and grants me access to my room. Like most teenagers, I've used it to slip a lock before when sneaking back into my dorm building after curfew. Usually with Marcy by my side.

Maybe I can do something similar now. I grip the plastic card, ready to slide it between the door and the jamb. But then I notice a black box on the wall.

It's a card reader.

I tap the plastic rectangle against the box and there is the distinctive sound of a bolt unlocking.

Bingo!

The handle turns and I dart into the staircase, kicking the door closed behind me.

However, my moment of relief is short-lived. As I race down the poorly lit flight of stairs, there is a bang followed by a beep and a click.

They're on my heels.

I run my hand along the banister to make sure I don't fall, taking the stairs two steps at a time.

The orderly told me to head to the basement. But what do I do when I get there?

I try to remember what else she said to me, but I can't focus with the adrenaline pumping through my veins.

As I descend down the stairs, I accidentally bang a large pipe running vertically up one corner of the stairwell with my hand. It's surprisingly warm.

"Stop!" a man's voice shouts behind me, reverberating off the cement walls. Then there is the static of walkie-talkies. There must be more of them coming.

I've been in trouble before, but nothing like this. The terror shooting down my spine, propelling my legs forward, isn't like anything I've felt before.

I pass an unmarked door, take a risk, and pull.

It opens easily, swinging in. But instead of darting down the unknown hall, I leave it open behind me and continue running, gliding on the banister for short spurts.

Then I stop.

There is a crevice next to the big pipe. Can I slide in next to it and hide?

I shake my head, making a split second decision. Too risky.