The Driving Instructor

3: Save a Life

The Edge - Tonight Alive

[03]

When I wake up, the sun is breaking through the little window, telling me the time is around eight-thirty am. The whole building is eery, silent even. The only sound is the uncanny creak of floorboards, sending shivers down my spine. My phone is on the floor by the side of my uncomfortable camp bed, definitely not where I left it. A key is dangling from the lock on my cell and I gulp mentally, scared out of my wits. When I stand up I check my phone and notice it's either been turned off or ran out of charge. My mind tells me what to do, so I hesitantly push at the metal railings making up the door and am surprised when it slowly opens.

Every prison cell is open and there is absolutely no sign of a police officer or guard. The lights are all on except for the one above the desk where the officer was and I have a bad feeling about everything right now. Every cell is empty, stripped of the criminals that once vacated the dirty floors. The fact people who were doing time for raping, attacking and killing people are now roaming the streets makes me pray for some sort of humanity.

A pistol is laying on the floor and when I spot a trail of blood, I feel sick to my stomach. The officer that took my phone for the video looks dead, his eyelids closed like they usually are in the movies. He's bleeding, clearly he had been shot with his own bullets, if I am right. My instinct is to get on my knees and bring my ear to his chest and that's when I hear it. He's still breathing, but I have no idea what to do. I don't know any of the medical manoeuvres you're meant to do, like CPR and the ones you're taught in school. I didn't like doing it to the dummies so they let me sit it out and now I have no prior knowledge of what to do. I'd google it but I don't have my phone switched on. I'm doomed right now, yet I could save a life if I actually set my mind to it.

"Please wake up," I whisper in his ear, trying not to cry at the sight of him. His blonde hair is slowly fading back to its natural brown colour but the blonde is still the blurry image I see. I still recall the knowledge of his thick Irish accent and never got the chance to ask exactly why he was here.

He doesn't seem to be losing too much blood, so I still hold a tiny bit of hope. When I decide to leave him there and explore the grounds, I think of something. What would a murderer do?

I know, from watching tedious amounts of The Following and other American crime dramas, that they'd put a stupid unnecessary tracking device in my mobile phone. So I take it apart on the desk, piece by piece, ignoring the hardly breathing body beside me. Outwit the opponent, I remembered from an episode of Ncis: Los Angeles, always remain two steps ahead of them. Outsmarting them is what I plan to do. They can't trick me, leave me here for dead. I'm better than they could have ever imagined. I'm an asset to them.

I pull out a tiny disk that looks like a SIM card but it's almost a replica from last nights penultimate episode of The Following. Throwing it in my cell, so they think I'm still in there, I walk about the floor trying to find more weapons or anything useful. The murderer is close-by if the officer is still breathing, or it could've been one of the prisoners who shot him. I may as well be dead, I'd be better off that way right now.

There's a door, a door I recognise when I was brought here in the violent daylight. The yellow sun that was beating down on the bleak grey door made it seem white but I wasn't going to do be alienated. I slowly opened the door and shut it within five seconds of peering at the steps leading upwards when a hand came into contact with my right shoulder.

When I turned around, it was one of the greatest sights ever. The police officer had pulled through without any attention from me and was looking at me with a scared expression, as if he'd almost died or something.