This is a story I started last year so some of the writing is a little rougher than I would like it to be, so please, tear this to bits.
Chapter 1. Don’t Look Up
Ares shifted in his seat, trying to work some circulating in to his cramped muscles. His hands clasped in front of him, rested on his knees. The chain between the cuffs on either wrist clinking a soft rhythm in time with the continuous tapping of his leg. Being in custody didn’t have many thrills, but Ares still managed to come up with a few things to stave off complete boredom.
He continued to loosely bounce the chain. Shooting a quick glance at the clock he was impressed.
Six minutes and the guard hasn’t even shifted in his seat .
At seven minutes the guard turned his wrist ever so slightly to check his watch, and Ares knew he had him. Speeding up the jingling, he began to hum tunelessly as well.
Thirty four seconds later.
“Stop that.”
“Stop what? ” Ares’s face was a picture of innocence.
“The humming and the rattling you’re doing with those…” the guard trailed off at the blank look on the boy’s face. “Never mind”
Ares turned his head to hide his smirk. Sometimes it was just too easy. Slowly however, the smile faded from his lips and he slumped in his chair. Drumming his fingers, he glanced around the room.
There wasn’t much to see. A desk sat directly in front of him. It’s surface covered in rubbish. A wasted basket in the corner. A calendar trying to peel it’s self from the all but bare walls. The floor was concrete. Noting the the ceiling, of cheap sagging panels, the one door and lack of windows, Ares slumped back in his chair. It was a bland room. A very boring room.
Ares was debating whether or not to try and make small talk with the guard when a nasal voice broke his train of thoughts.
“So, they sent us another one of you thievin’ brats.” A man shuffled into the room and over to the desk. With a groan, he settled his ample body into the chair behind it. The man waved a thick hand at the guard dismissing him. Dropping the hand to his chest he brushed at the front of his shirt as though trying to rid it of some of the crumbs clinging to it. Ares couldn’t help but wonder if the shirt had always been the grayish color it was now or if it had originally been white. He suspected the later.
“Mr James Ares Tide, is it?” the man asked, thumbing through a file. He paused as though waiting for a answer. Receiving none, he frowned and continued to scan the file. “Apparently you're here because the judge believes that in the 'correct environment' you have the potential to make a change for the better” The man closed the folder and flipped it on to the desk. “Well I don't buy it.” He plucked a toothpick for the top pocket of his shirt and began to clean his teeth. "Frankly, I think it's a waste of time. Your kind always ends up behind bars sooner or later. Once a theif, always a theif. That's what I say.”
“Then why are you working here?” Ares's eyes flicked briefly over the man, taking in his porous complexion and the bit of egg yoke dribbled on his unshaven chin. A name tag half hidden beneath the many wrinkles in the man’s shirt read; HORACE
Horace laughed.
“ You know that’s a good soul search’in question and I’d be cut…. If the preacher wasn’t a thief !” Horace chortled wheezely for a few minutes. Wiping his eyes, he got up. “ Alright Father, time to get you ready to meet your congregation.”
Ares stood and started toward the door. Tripping on the leg of his chair, he threw out a hand, steadying himself on the corner of the desk. Straightening, he nodded to Horace.
"Lead the way."
A few moments later Ares’s sneakers squeaked as he walked down a hall. The florescent lights pulsed. Horace walked a few steps behind him, still chuckling and making comments about preachers.
As they neared a turn in the passage way Ares suddenly stopped. Horace took another step and then pulled up as well.
“ Why’d you stop? ” Horace was aggravated.
Ares pointed. “Your shoe’s untied.”
Falling for the oldest trick in the book, Horace looked down at his cowboy boots.
Ares was on him in a second. In one smooth motion, he slipped the chain of his handcuffs over Horace’s head and behind his neck. Jerking the man’s face down into his upcoming knee. Ares felt, rather than heard the nose crunch as it broke. He released the man but only for a moment. Lashing out again, Ares planted a sharp firm kick upwards between the man’s legs.
Horace doubled over in pain, clutching himself and swearing, but Ares didn’t hear. He was already long gone.
Ares turned the corner in the hall. The soles of his sneakers gripping the floor as he ran. Several doors lined the corridor. He opened the first door, but didn’t go inside. All he did was quickly turn the lock and shut it again. Moving on to the next door he twisted the knob and stepped in, locking the door behind him.
If he was lucky, Ares thought, they would think he was in the first room when they tried the door and found it locked. If he was very lucky.
Ares began to straighten the paperclip he’d swiped from Horace desk when he'd tripped. As he picked the lock on his cuffs, he glanced around the room. It was another office, but this one looked as though it had not been used in sometime. A desk and chair were the only things in the room. There was a click of the lock catching and the handcuffs sprang open. Slipping them in to his pocket along with the wire, he paused to listen. Horace’s wails had quieted to groans, but Ares knew it wouldn’t be long until help arrived, and not all of them would be as stupid as Horace.
Ares walked over to the desk. The ceiling in this office was the same as in the other, as he had counted on it being, three by two feet panels of dry wall held up by thin strips of metal.
Picking up the chair, he set it on top of the desk and scrambled up on it. Balancing, Ares pushed up on the panel above him with the tips of his fingers. The panel lifted and he slid it to the side. Sticking his hand into the now open space, he grabbed a support beam. Hanging his weight on it, he hooked the back of the chair with his toe and swung it off the desk. It hit the floor with a thud. Ares quickly lifted himself up through the hole the rest of the way and slid the panel back in place. They would have heard that noise, but hopefully they wouldn’t figure out where he had gone right away.
Feeling his way along, he crawled towards the shouting. In a few moments he was right above it. Light sneaked though where the panels joined, marking where the hall was and lighting his way. Ares was able to move fairly quickly, at least as quickly as one can when crawling around in a ceiling. As he crawled, placing his hands and feet on the support beams, Ares reasoned.
If they hadn’t discovered he was in the ceiling they’d think he was still heading in the same direction he had been before, inward, not the opposite. He stopped briefly to listen and wipe the sweat from his face. Man, it was hot! Even so, they would still be watching the exits. He need a plan. The cracks of light turned sharply and he stopped again.
Ares lifted the panel in front of him an inch. It was possible that someone might see him, but only if they were looking up, something he doubted anyone would be doing. Peering through the slit, Ares spotted the entrance where he had come in. He grinned. Bingo.
Only one guard watched the entrance. Ares wiped his face on the shoulder of his jacket, frowning now. One guard was still one guard to many. Even if he could get past the guard, there was still the fence. He blinked the sweat from his eyes . He couldn’t think in this blasted heat. Taking another look through the crack, he caught sight of a supplies closet. Maybe there was something in there he could use. After judging the distance from where he was to the closet, Ares gently lowered the panel back into place. By the time he reached the area where he hoped the closet was, Ares wanted nothing more than to tear a panel away and get a breath of fresh air, but he controlled himself. Dolefully, he lifted a panel slightly to make sure he was above the closet. Convinced he was, Ares picked the panel up the rest of the way and tossed it to the side. Sticking his head through the opening, he let the cool air wash over his face.
A thin strip of light shone out from beneath the closet door. With his eyes already adjusted to the dark, Ares was able to see fairly easily. The normal clutter of brooms, mops, and cleaning supplies stood in a corner. A fire extinguisher hung immediately to one side of the door. Shelves on the wall made a nice ladder as Ares climbed out of the attic. Back on the ground he checked the small room for any thing he could use. A bucket, sponges, an old soda can. Ares was sure if MacGyver was in his shoes the bottles of cleaner would already be mixed together in some explosive solution. However he wasn’t MacGyver and the only thing Ares could think to do with cleaning supplies was mop a floor. Not real helpful.
Letting his eyes roam over the tiny space, Ares could feel himself start to sweat again and this time it had nothing to do with the heat. He needed to get out of here fast, it would only be so long before they found him. Looking about him desperately Ares catch sight of a breaker box, and a sudden idea formed. Taking the one step it took to reach the box, he fingered the lock holding it shut. Simple enough. Fishing the straightened paper clip from his pocket, Ares went to work.
Thanks for reading. ~ DG
Here is a link to the next chapter. viewtopic.php?f=359&t=88553
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