The lights went off in the Gray Ward, the sigh of sleep slipping over all within. Those like her fell into sleep quickly, since they use up all their energy in trainings. Another way Dare was different, one of her glitches was her energy never seemed to fade, leaving her sparking with it at night, unable to sleep deeply. This was an asset for her now. She concentrated, listening to the waves of steady breath in the room, trying to see if their was even one that was quicker, sharper than the smooth rise and fall of those asleep. There was only one. Fine. Excellent, in fact, I should take him with me anyway. She thought, crawling out of bed after a safe time, crawling quick and silent on her hands and feet. She came to Treble’s bed, and silkenly fast slipped her hand over his mouth. Bringing her mouth to his ear, she hushed,
“Come with me this time.” He nodded, eyes wide with anxiety. He followed her out of the Gray Ward and into the hallway. After she shut the door with a tiny snick he said softly,
“Dare, the day after they took off the band? Do you really want to do this?”
“They won’t expect it, that’s why I’m going now. Please come, Treble, you’re like my brother, I would feel terrible leaving you here in this hellhole.” She offered him her hand. “I have a better plan, this will work. Please?” He sighed, lifting his trusting dusky blue eyes up to her. With a pang she realized she couldn’t screw this up. She couldn’t let him down. He took her hand.
“Let’s go, Dare.” She nodded briskly and they made their way down the hall.
They had made it through a lot of the building, only the center lobby area left in their way. It was so dark black pooled like an oil spill all around them. There was only one escape route. One window, the glass thick and greenish, stood high on the wall. Even the doors were metal under the thin blades of wood to cover it (sometimes officials from the lower sections of the government came, or even high school field trips on occasion, so they had to make it seem less like a prison and more like a ‘Human Research Lab’ wherever these people were allowed.) She looked up at the high ceiling. She had to get up onto the giant black support beams so she could reach the big window. Walking up to the painted brick, she lifted her hand, the sturdy dark claws at the tips of her candle-pale fingers clicking softly at the paper-thin cushion of bleach white primer and creamy-colored paint. She found the slight bow-in of a line of mortar, and dug in. It was as soft and gray as ash to her, and crumbled to make room for the deadly-slick claws that curled into it.
“Follow.” She said, her voice so low it drifted into Treble’s ultra-sensitive ears like cooling steam. He nodded as she dug her other hand into a higher line and pulled herself up.
They made steady, paced progress up the wall, mortar dust floating around them in a suffocating fog. They both had no fear of heights (fear was programed out of them, just sharpened awareness to make up for it), but when she looked down to make sure he was keeping up, she felt a cold little spin in her gut. This wasn’t because of the distance of herself from solid ground, more the distance from her cell, the place she was ‘manufactured’ and trained, tortured and fed, where she slept and fought for her entire life. She felt...significant and rebellious and free. She shook her head. Couldn’t celebrate until she was out. She crawled up further, and there was the window. She touched the rich gloss of it’s smoothness, stroking it for a splinter of weakness she could use.
“We’re almost out!” Treble said, sounding in shock.
“Be prepared. This is the really dangerous part, protect your eyes.” She whispered. She saw there were sensors of some sort buried at the edges of the window. The second she broke it, they’d start the chase. Pulling her claws out of the mortar, she pulled them firmly over the surface of the glass, leaving thin, deep lines of weakness. The glass whined slightly with resistance, but nothing that would wake anyone. Then she braced herself, clenched her fist, and drew it back, coiling the muscles in her shoulders, making sure her wrist was straight. She buzzed with power for a moment, then hit the glass with all she had. Blindingly bright pain streamed all the way down her arm, oh how it hurt, but the glass spiderwebbed beautifully, a diamond-like shower of cold glass clicking to the ground. As she’d hoped, the slightly weakened cross she’d drawn cracked deeply, all the way through. An alarm shrieked in the background, attention seeking and painfully harsh. She sighed, opening her hand and pushing the weakest slab of glass. It crackled, then popped out of it’s pane, tilting over, out into the world. She grinned, as the recovery guards swept in. In the center of them was her personal nightmare, the co-president of the whole operation. She yelled for the guards to fire, and this time instead of tranquilizers, they had guns with bullets. Dare grinned.
“Bye!” She yelled, pulling Treble up to the window with one hand. He threw himself out the window and she followed just as the bitter snapping of gunfire began.
She landed on the lawn of the building, amazingly not breaking any bones, since it was about a twenty-foot jump. Treble was shaken, but undamaged.
“Run?” He asked.
“Um, yeah.” She said, and so they did, before the guards could even unlock the doors.
They ran for hours, more or less, before collapsing. Dare dropped to her knees retching up bile and water. Treble shuddered, unable to catch his breath. Once Dare’s stomach was more or less, literally empty, she curled herself into a ball, slowing her heart rate the best she could. Her head was spinning, her hand and wrist bleeding heavily, her palm filled with thick shards of glass. She breathed the scent of pine and earth, smelling like the survival training she did when she was new, only sweeter. She wanted to sleep, regenerate her energy, but she was pooled in her blood and sick with the lack of it.
“Treble, what all did I hit?” She wheezed, offering her hand to him. He lifted his head, touching her swelling, sticky palm.
“Lots. We got to stop this before you sleep.” He sighed, shaking his head to clear the exhaustion and overstimulation.
“Fix me?” He nodded, ripping strips of his shirt into neat ribbons. He listened for the clattering of water, and found it fast.
“We’re lucky, water’s close. Hold on, ‘kay?” She nodded, trying not to move her hand so she didn’t have to feel the discomfort of all the intruding glass. He returned with the strips soaked and clean. He folded them gently, leaving all the water he could in them and set them in his lap. He rung out one above her hand, washing away a bit of the blood so he could see better. Then he set to picking the splinters out.
“Ugh!”
“Sorry, I’m being as gentle as I can.” He managed to get every single one out, after hours of pulling and prodding.
“You could be a doctor, you know.” She said, amazed she couldn’t feel the pinch of a single bit left.
“You’re kidding, I butchered your palm. If I did that to a normal human, they’d be screaming bloody murder.” He looked a little pleased at the comment, however. “This is the easier part.” He took another strip, and squeezed her hand in it.
“Ow, ow, ow!” Blood soaked into the rag, dripping pink with the water. “Jeez, kinda hard, don’t you think?” But it was a good, cleansing pain, and she almost enjoyed it.
“I think you’ll live, it’s almost clean.” He said dryly. Once she was cleaned up and free of glass, he tied cloth over her wounds and knotted it tight.
“Thanks.” They both suddenly ran out of adrenaline to go on, thick weariness dropping on them like a heavy rain. She lay down on the ground, settling on the soft pine needles and soil. He lay by her, sighing.
“Rest.”
“Yeah.” They were asleep in seconds.
