Liberation (Remnants of Men)

Chapter 7: Two Weeks In Limbo

   For two weeks, his eyes had seen darkness. A darkness that had almost rendered him blind and all he had for company were mice. Creepy little things would not let him have a sound rest. Runner twisted on the cold floor but there wasn’t enough space to stretch his legs. He folded both legs and clasped his arms around them.

At least he got to eat three full meals a day, not that they proved to be the best but they filled his stomach. That was more than he could say for life in Rat town. Even so, freedom has such feeling that makes a man want to fly.

He had spent most days trying to draw a mental picture of his mother and father. That way, he kept his mind from wandering into the lair of insanity. Even as hard as he tried, he could not remember their faces and ended up picturing the faces of some random folks.

There was little a boy could do in such incarceration. He could lie on his back and stare at the four cornered roof that stood above him, but that would require a bit of illumination in the room.

Runner bit his thumb to feel something…anything. He did not want to think of Troy or Rhiannon or his aunt’s kids he left behind. What does it matter? Everyone knew once you are destined for the gallows, you’re never going to see home again.

A high pitched sound penetrated the iron doors of his cell―the wailing of siren.

The sound was like a hundred needles poked at his ear drums. Runner covered both ears with his hands and threw himself to rest upon the wall. Suddenly, the iron door sprung open, much to his surprise.

Gently, he stepped out of his confinement. The bright artificial sunlight passing through a glass window on a wall flooded his eyes and all he could see was a flash of white light. It irritated him, but soon the brilliance faded and his sight accommodated his environment.

Runner looked to his left. His cell was only one amongst many that stood opposite themselves in a long line,  and outside each door stood a boy, girl, man, or woman, all wearing the all-white overall prison attire.

Standing in front of the cell next to his was a gangly boy. He looked pale and sickly with his hair slapped flat to his head like it has been drenched by rain. The boy glanced at Runner and stepped forward.

The wailing siren continued and a voice prompt followed, “Power lock malfunction! Power lock malfunction! Power lock malfunction…”

“Freedom!” a plump man bellowed, throwing his hands in the air.

Everyone ran down the long hallway and towards a double exit door that had opened along with the cell doors, except Runner.

The gangly boy paused in his stride and turned back, “aren’t you coming?”

Runner did not answer. His gaze was set upon a surveillance camera with a red light glistening at the side. He has seen a lot of that in Old Max’s workshop and something didn’t feel right.

“What do you make of that?” he pointed at the camera.

The boy moved close to him until they stood at equal shoulder’s length. “Someone is watching us,” he said.

“Yes, you got that right,” Runner nodded. “There are only two reasons someone will want to do that, either they want to test us or lure us into a trap. Perhaps, they have found a new form of execution.”

“What do we do, then?” the boy asked.

Runner smiled, “Pretend to play their game.”

He ran down the hall, followed closely behind by the boy. The light from a long line of fluorescent bulbs flickered above them. Like some kind of S.O.S, it seemed to be leading them away from the hall and down a long passageway with tiled walls at each side, white as the day they were painted.