Black Source #theWattys2016

Hamilton III

Heart pounding paranoia covered Hamilton's trembling demeanor. The Warden was playing dumb with him, and he noticed something strange—somehow or another; the Warden seemed to have history with him, experience. And somewhere deep in his mind, he felt he actually knew the Warden more than he had previously thought. He vaguely remembered sitting around a table with the council, all of whom were dressed in black suits, aside from him. There was an argument between them, and his disagreement with their methods led to his betrayal, his brainwashing and assignment to the facility.

Hamilton made his way back to his quarters, keeping his head down. The last thing he wanted was another visit to the Warden so soon. He looked up into the sky noticing, for the first time, that the sun was splitting through the dense overcast. He let his eyes hold on the light rays as they flowed down from the part in the clouds. He smiled. There was something so freeing about the sun. It was the hope that maybe this was all a bad dream and that someday he would wake up.

Letting his gaze drift from the sky, he saw a guard perched up in a tower, and it appeared that he had been watching. Could it be that his suspicions were true? In that case, speed walking, Hamilton looked away and headed straight for his quarters. The next part of his plan would have to happen faster than expected. Before his planned escape, several crucial things needed to be done, and the most important of them was getting access to the central AI unit that controlled the facility. Only that unit would have the information he needed to find Lilly and put an end to the cruelties of the facility.

Fidgeting with the pile of solution capsules in his coat pocket, Hamilton passed the staging area, adamantly avoiding eye contact with the Mod Soldiers that walked passed him. He felt as though he had already lost, huddling himself in hopes of not being seen. He almost wanted to run from the anxiety peaking behind his eyes. But he resisted. Maybe they were waiting for him to divulge his accomplices through some radical act of stupidity.

He had been clean of the mental suppressant for two weeks, and in that time of planning the lab fire, he thought his duplicity had already been discovered. So many mistakes had been made, and carelessly swept under the rug. His next course of action had to be the removal of evidence, all his paperwork, his records, the visits with Jacob, all of that had to stop, if only for a short time. And that was exactly what he feared—not being able to see Jacob. He had become far too attached to treat him as a subject, or even to pretend. He needed Jacob for sanity. Without him, Hamilton would be alone.

Hamilton passed into the testing camp and scanned his prints, once, twice, and three times, still finding no result. He studied his palm in disbelief, twisting up his face with surprise. A Mod Soldier stationed at the gate entrance stepped up beside him, rifle in hand.

"Dr. Ambrose," the guard said.

"There's no problem," Hamilton screamed. "Just get away from me!" The Mod Soldier stepped closer, joined by another soldier responding to the noise. It was all a trick, playing nice, ignoring his amateur mistakes, all the while the Warden was planning to get rid of him with his back turned. They must have disabled his ID clearance, something he thought previously couldn't happen. His heart thumped hard in his chest, sending an unnerving coldness to the sweat on his neck. He tried his hand again, only seconds away from breaking past the Mod Soldiers and abandoning his plan for a more instinctive one.

Click.

The testing lab gate slid open. Hamilton stood there a moment and looked at his hand again, realizing that in his haste he hadn't realized he hand was sweaty. Looking back he saw that the Mod Soldiers had already left, his nerves however had not. He walked through the gate and looked over his shoulder, the laser grid buzzing like a rattle snake. As he hurried to his quarters he heard the static of Sam's voice.