“I can’t sleep.” Dillon thought to himself. Sitting against a very uncomfortable wall. His body throbbing in different areas from being sore. He rubbed his knee, it too hurt badly. An old injury resurfacing perhaps. He looked out on the scene before hi. A dull red security light lit the room <- FACT CHECK. He seen a couple hundred people lying about and no one moving. Everyone was asleep tonight except him. He alone didn’t get rest, for his mind wandered. A plan to escape the prison, but then what? To what end? To experience another day with her. To experience a freedom and a life with her. That’s what his current motivation was. Some revenge too perhaps. He knew who was responsible for his being in here and he would make sure they got what they deserved. *Sigh*

  He closed his eyes and tried to focus on sleeping but it did not come. Instead he focused on the smell of death, chemicals, and the smell of no one having showered in weeks. It was quite putrid actually, but you didn’t notice it until you got a breath of fresh air.

  Dillon counted sheep inside of his head, impossible to tell how much time had passed he felt how tired he was though. His eyes were hot, and his brain needed rest. He was almost lucid, one needed rest after a long day of work and malnutrition. His job was one of the hardest ones in here he thought. Though digging the tunnel wouldn’t be so fun either.

  He heard the sound of a far off barracks opening and shutting their front door. It must be that time, finally! Today is the day. Anticipation welled up inside of him. His heart quickened, today they would escape. Today he was going to start a new chapter of his life, one of exploration and excitement. For too long he had been returned and tried to steer away from the life that inevitably followed him. Today Dillon became who he was meant to be, the elite spy sent to operations no one else could complete. Dillon Grey sent in to eliminate enemy targets at ranges not humanly possible. He was going to go into full optic mode today. Something he had not done for a minute, and he didn’t care if the government detected him he was coming for them anyways.

  Dillon started shuffling himself awake and took a drink from his filtered toilet water, passing it to Belle as they sell began standing up and stretching, getting the kinks out of their very tired bodies. There was no sleep in the world that could take away the tired and sluggish feeling they all had from this. Despite all this he felt quite well, he hadn’t consumed any of the poisoned ware for a couple days now. It really had an impact on his morale. Dillon could notice when he was on the water and when he wasn’t. There was a certain charity that came from drinking toilet water ironically. Dillon said his goodbyes and good lucks to Crosby and Belle, and headed out for formation. The same old same old. Sergeant Gonzalez traveled down the rank of inmates in front of Dillon scanning their hands in some morning ritual to measure vital signs. Dillon knew not to be in the front row from the military, and not directly in the back either. You needed to blend in the middle of the crowd and keep your work adequate, never lacking and never exceeding expectations. Staying off radar was the most important thing to him in a sit-in like this for survivability. Sgt Gonzalez quickly moved through the first row and onto his. Starting just two men down from Dillon he scanned their wrists. “Good. Next. “He approached Dillon for the morning ritual he had grown accustomed to, never thinking too much about it really. “What?” Sergeant Gonzalez held his hand up sorting through an invisible menu. “Let me see your wrist again” NOTE: SOMETIMES ITS WRIST SOMETIMES HAND

  *Beep* he scanned Dillon again. Dillon began sweating now, a psychological response to being on the spot. Something he even had a difficult time controlling. “Yeah. You’re going out.” Sgt Gonzalez looked at Dillon and snapped his fingers, some magic trick enabling the restraints on Dillon to snap tightly together. “Follow me.” Dillon shocked he was restrained, was unable to clearly think what was going on at the moment. “Why was this happening? Were my levels of poison declining or?”

  “Yeah. We’ve got another one today. Take him to the hole.”

  Sergeant Gonzalez said to two less decorated guards. They looked at Dillon and grabbed him by the back of the arm and keeping two point of contact on him. Off they went!

  “The hole... “ he thought to himself “That doesn’t sound good. Do I make my move now?” he paused “It’s not the right time. Chance for success too low.”

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  They walked and walked, Dillon trying to plot out where he was going, surprised to arrive at a familiar building. “This is the plus shaped building Belle works at.” He recognized. The guards led him through the first gate and through the door leading in to the main hallway they just entered. A Guard met Dillon, one who presumably worked at this building. He spoke to the two escorting him here “And what were his levels?”

  “Oh really. Hmm. Tell Gonzalez We’ll get labs and get started on treatment. I appreciate it.”

  He heard some other mumbling and then he was alone with a short, stocky man. No neck, red face and glasses. He walked around in a half waddle, with his gray curly hair reminded him of an ice cream swirl sat down on top of his ugly little head. He grabbed Dillon by the arm and escorted him through yet another door at the end of the hallway they were in. This took them into a humid room, smelling of chlorine and laundry. He heard the hum of a couple washers and dryers running as the guard stopped him and took him inside the laundry room instead of going through a final door into an unknown room. In the laundry room the guard disabled his restraints and asked him to strip out, leaving his items on the floor. Dillon began getting naked and was sure to leave his map in his boots, his extra restraint carefully hidden all the way inside of his boot, and his extra clothes kept together in hopes they wouldn’t realize his one t shirt was two. Dillon was just taking off his last sock when the guard spoke.

  “Open your mouth.”, “Raise your arms.” …. “Lift your sack.” …”Turn around, bend and spread me.” Dillon complied with all of the orders. “Good. Here.” The man reached on a counter and tossed Dillon a special red jumpsuit and a pair of boxers, and shower shoes. Dillon began putting on the new wardrobe which was considerably less comfortable than the clothes he had recently acquired. Just then, the front door opened. The guard stepped out into the hall a moment and that’s all he needed to take advantage of the situation. Dillon reached in his boot and pulled out his map and restraint, snapping it on to his left arm and shoving the map into his boxers. He pulled the sleeve on the jumpsuit down as far as possible as to avoid any guard seeing his second restraint on that arm. The guard waved someone his direction, and to his amazement it was

  Belle.

  The guard looked at her and said “Undress and wait here. I’ll be right back.” He turned to Dillon, “You, with me.” Dillon followed the guard out a final door and into a gigantic area. The entire room was as big as a gymnasium with cell doors lining the outside walls, he could see stairs that lead people up to each of the unknown Was it five? She said. Levels of the building. The guard took him up the first two flights of stairs and he arrived at cell 311/312. Big bold white numbers on the top of the cell. The guard waved his hand in front of the door and the cell opened.

  Dillon walked in and the door closed behind him. Enabling him to use his hands again as his restraints disengaged. He did not have a cell mate, did not have any property or anything in the cell except a metal bunk on the wall. Boy he wished he had those extra clothes now. Though when he relaxed it could be a good exercise for meditation.

  Dillon sat down on his metal bunk. Taking in what was going on. “My vitals were scanned, I was taken here. It’s apparent to me I am not poisoned enough for their liking. So… they’re going to attempt to study or fix me here...” He looked up around the cell. Beige walls, nothing except this bunk, the sink and toilet unit which was all stainless steel, and his window. Dillon paced around, talking to himself.

  “Escape escape. Well now. Appear to be stuck in a segregation sort of unit. This complicates things a bit now doesn’t it?” He sat on the bed again and crossed his legs, kicking off his shoes to make it more comfortable.

  Thinking about his plan, very flawed now, something must change. He heard cuff ports closing further down the range. Dillon approached his window and tried to peek out the far side, he saw Belle with the Guard going cell to cell. He was yelling at her "This is NOT an all-day event shitbird. Hurry up!”... “Yes sir!” … he heard another cuff port close. Then the guard was at his, he opened it. “Evan Kyrus, come here.” Dillon approached the cell door separating the two. “Your hand.” Dillon stuck his hand out and the guard grabbed his hand in a handshake fashion, pulling him a little further through the cuff port. Dillon felt a needle pierce his skin and inject something as quickly as he tried to pull back. “Ah fuck!” Dillon said out loud. The guard smiled at him through the window. “Go ahead.” He said looking over at Belle. She brought up a tray to the window, tears in her eyes. Dillon seen the guard didn’t move, which forced belle to brush past him on the way to the window. For her to stick the tray in the hole she had to bend over, and bumped into the perverse guard’s groin doing so. He witnessed the guard eyeball her with a disgusting look. This infuriated Dillon, all in an instant. He approached the window and grabbed the tray from her. She looked at him so sullen and defeated. He looked at her with fire and passion, all he could do is nod at her. Conveying his message best he could, that he was displeased, pissed, and he would find a way. Do not give up, is what the look meant.

  He hoped she got it.