Subject Number 67

Chapter 2

The security guard searching my cell for contraband was named Stephan. He searched my cell every Monday and Wednesday. He was tall with skin the color of a mocha latte and had green eyes which always lingered on me a little longer than the other girls.

When he determined that there was nothing out of place in my room, he returned to the hallway, and I assumed the position against the wall: hands pressed against the cement, legs spread shoulder width apart. His hands felt along the length of my skinny arms through my ill-fitting grey sweatshirt: part of the standard wardrobe the Factory provided us. His hands then moved down my shoulders, searching my chest to make sure I hadn’t hidden anything in my bra. This was standard procedure, but it still made me uncomfortable—especially when his hands lingered on my breasts longer than necessary. Eventually, his practiced  hands moved down my waist and then to my legs, searching every inch of me for contraband.

“You’re clean,” he finally said in my ear, his breath hot and his voice gruff. I suppressed the urge to vomit.

After morning inspection was completed for our cell block, the Subjects were herded into the cafeteria for breakfast--which was a very generous term for what they actually served us. All the "food" they gave us was gray and tasteless, much like our wardrobe. And it's not like they gave us copious amounts of the gray sludge, either. One scoop and that was it. It's funny, I think. They expect us to be invincible super soldiers yet they can't even feed us a decent meal. 

As the Subjects filed into the breakfast line, I felt my stomach clench--though I wasn't sure if it was from anxiety or excitement. This would be the last time eating gray sludge for breakfast if everything went as it should. 

"Sixty-seven," the security attending standing at the entrance of the food line barked at me, pulling me out of my own thoughts. "Arm." 

My eyes stayed on his face for a moment before drifting down to the scanner in his hand. After a moment, I lifted my arm and he ran the scanner along the barcode stamped across my forearm. This was to verify that I had received the food, not necessarily if I actually ate it. 

I grabbed a white plastic tray off the rack and proceeded down the breakfast line with the rest of the Subjects. I also took a water bottle: the standard drink at the Factory, because it was the only thing "pure enough" for us to drink.  

You know who needs a lesson on purity? I'd say to myself. The asshole who serves this shit.

When I was handed a plate with the gray sludge on it, I found myself trying not to SMILE rather than trying not to gag. The anticipation of my escape was bubbling away inside of me. Today was my last day at the Factory! It made me want to jump on the cafeteria tables and sing and dance! It made me want to throw my head back and scream in excitement! 

It almost made me want to eat my gray sludge. Almost. 

But I couldn't let those feelings of joy show on my face, or surely someone would notice that something was off. So I remained stoic. I plastered the same emotionless expression on my face that I learned to hide behind so well. Patience. Patience was key. If I didn't wait long enough, I'd blow my chance. If I waited too long, I'd have to wait until tomorrow--and there was no way I was waiting until tomorrow. Today was my day. 

So I'd have to just be patient and wait for the right moment. For my moment. 

It sounded like a simple enough escape plan in my mind. After we were searched again before leaving the cafeteria, the guards had a ten minute break while the medical orderlies too us to the clinic to get our shots for the day. After we were vaccinated, the orderlies took us back to our cell block to get our dirty uniforms to take to the laundry room, where the guards would then take over again. My objective was to subdue the orderlies before try gave me my vaccination: which slowed blood flow to reduce oxygen intake, so we didn't have the energy to attempt any escape. The orderlies were only doctors, and most of them were very small and completely helpless when it came to a fight. 

I was the exact opposite. This was the very thing I was made to do.

I had to take out the orderlies first. After that, I had to break into the back door of the clinic, which would trigger an alarm unless I could find a key on one of the orderlies. If I could find a key, I was home free. If I couldn't find a key, I had about ten minutes to run as fast as I could and then I'd be home free. It was all a matter of timing. Timing was key. Patience, calmness, and timing were all I would need to succeed. 

Close your eyes, take a breath, and don't hesitate.

It was time for me to go home.