FALLEN | The Devil of Caracas

Chapter 23 | Run

Lexi spearheads the escape, with the five others following behind her. Pushing the door open, she leans into the hall, looking both directions. She listens intently - silence. Then she steps out of the doorway and turns to the right. She doesn't trust the front exit and decides to take her chances going through the barracks.

Her mind struggles to stay focused; the thought of finally removing the hair tie and easing into a relaxing bath overwhelms her. She imagines being surrounded by candles in a dimly lit room. She shares the imaginative moment with her husband, safely curled up in his arms.

Forcing her beaten body to move one step at a time, she keeps her senses alert. The other prisoners follow closely as she works her way around the corner. Each man steps onto the scene of carnage and reacts accordingly; aghast expressions paint their faces as they gingerly dance around the the corpses and pools of blood. The television in the break room echos an obnoxious commercial, as it reverberates down the hallway.

Lexi moves to the door on the right and draws her recently acquired pistol. Holding it close to her body, she gently places the other hand on the doorknob. She takes a breath. Then swiftly yanking down on the handle, she throws the door open. Raising the gun with both hands, she steps in and quickly swings it from side to side, scanning the area.

Aside from a few bunks and some personal items, it's empty. Lexi relaxes. Then her eyes fall on another door across the room. So far, the guard has led her true.

In the hall, Louis admires Lexi's work. He peers over the bodies, imagining how she managed to kill them and still survive. Considering her circumstances, it seems nearly inhuman. Miguel stops by his side. They exchange glances.

"Remember all those years ago, when that psycho killed those rapists?" whispers Louis.

"That cop? The one who tracked them down with the axe?" replies Miguel. "Si, it was all over the news."

 "Si. Remember how my mamá would tell us as kids about it?" Louis glances back to the carnage. "She would say, 'Sometimes the el Diablo shows up, looking like one of us - just a normal person... just so he can punish the wicked before they even get to hell.'"

Miguel eyes his friend. He glances down at the small silver cross hanging from Louis' neck. He never was one for religion or superstition. But as the man speaks, he feels something run through his body. The hairs of his arms stand on end. He glances to his right. Through the doorway, he watches Lexi as she strolls into the room. 

"Perhaps el Diablo's at work again," whispers Louis.

Miguel returns his attention to his friend, to find the man eyeing him intently. After a short pause, he finally pulls away and follows the others into the room.

Louis watches Miguel stride away and then drops his gaze to the floor, where he discovers one of the guard's handguns. He leans down and snatches it off the floor. As he straightens up, he sees another pistol a few feet down the hall. He quickly grabs at that one as well.

Christopher wanders over to him and reaches out his hand. Louis plops a pistol in Christopher's open palm. "Let's grab some ammo, too," he says. Christopher nods and the two men scavenge the guards' bodies, grabbing at the spare magazines from their belts. 

In the barracks, Lexi makes her way between the bunks and wraps her hand around the door's handle. She pulls down and tugs on it - locked.

"Shit," she whispers.

"Locked?" asks Miguel.

"Si," Lexi answers, looking over her shoulder. She startles, suddenly aware of Miguel's uncomfortably close proximity. She studies his gangly appearance; he's nearly eight inches taller than her and arguably skinnier. His arms dangle at his side, unsure of what to do with the abnormally long appendages. His black hair is mangy and the dark growth on his face is patchy and thin.