A Day in the Life
He awoke to the sound of voices and beeping, whirring machinery. A bright light was shining in his face, and every nerve in his extremities began to scream. He could just make out two familiar voices, now three, though could not identify any of them. He must have been hit hard. He felt tired and his thoughts were a panicked, jumbled mess. He took a moment to collect himself. There were thin, plastic tubes pumping something through his body, one tube in each limb. He tried to remember how he ended up here. A letter. A bloodstained carpet. The man in the suit- the supervisor. Mr. …what’s his name? The fluid was almost the color of blood, but with a tinge of purple. And black specs. Or maybe that was the black dots dancing across his vision still. The canisters of… was it nerve gas? And the van. The van, and then, this. He heard a deep, gravelly voice say, “He’s coming to. I’ll sedate him.” “No”, said a female voice, “let him wake up.” And then silence. He almost blacked out. Now a sudden surge of adrenaline and his eyes flittered open halfway, before he remembered he had to try to escape. His captors could not know of his escape until after he had. Preferably not even then. This was a laboratory of some sort. Two cameras that he could spot, though more could be hidden anywhere. He could forget about a stealthy escape. Through two very narrow slits that were his eyes, he saw two of his captors leave the room. A large man in a white, blood stained lab coat remained beside his bed in a chair. The boy suddenly leapt up from his bed and wrapped the tube around the man’s neck in a makeshift noose. He pulled with some effort, and then the unconscious body slumped against the wall to the floor. Bleeding now from each tube incision, he tried removing the unsightly intrusions. His veins and skin all seemed to catch on fire, and it was all he could do to keep from screaming in agony. No time to catch his breath. He was anchored to the machines at his bed side. The pump was state of the art, so it most likely had an hour of battery in case of power outages. Or unplugging. So, with his right leg up on the bed and his left foot on the ground, he angled the bed towards the large glass pane in the right wall of the room. He pushed as hard as he could, and put both legs up on the bed and braced himself. The glass went flying into a million pieces, and he landed in a parking lot with a bone shaking crash. But the pain didn’t end there. He continued speeding through an opening gate, which just grazed a hair on his head as he went under the rising bar. The air skimmed blood and sweat off his skin as he rolled into the road, now coming to an abrupt stop. He grabbed the door handle of a car racing by in same second. Using the momentum of the car, he let go, flinging himself onto a side-street, and dislocating his right arm as he let go. He heard a motorcycle not far behind, and machine gun fire, jarring his nerves. He began to feel very dizzy…but he couldn't rest. Or maybe he could. He saw a helicopter he recognized in the sky up in front of him. His ticket out. Behind him the motorcycle spun off the road as bullets tore through its driver. The helicopter began to descend on his position. Just another day in the life of a special agent.