This Would Be Paradise (Book 3)

Chapter 8

When I woke up, my first thought was about how surprised I was that they hadn't killed me. My next one was that my foot really hurt. I opened my eyes to find that I was back in my solitary cell. I wiggled my injured foot, then panic took over. Rearing upright, I pulled my left foot to me to examine the wound. They had cleaned it and dressed it in mounds of gauze. Slowly, I undid the white wrappings to find that when Mac had taken a bite of my foot, he had taken my pinky toe as well. Oh my God, I'm missing a toe. I stared at the red and angry patch where my toe should have been. Somehow this wound was more of a shock than all my others, and I didn't know why.

I hastily rewrapped and tied off the gauze and tried to ignore the fact that I was now missing a body piece. It was shallow to care so much about a toe, but I couldn't shake the shock. I gave my cheek a slap.

"Get a hold of yourself," I said out loud.

My hand went to the waistband of my pants to find the switchblade gone. Right, I had to use it. On Mac. I chewed on my lip to help distract myself from crying. Mac was dead and it hadn't been a quick death either. He had suffered.

"Stop this!" I hissed at myself. This train of thought wouldn't help me get out of here.

I had no idea how long I'd been out for. They had managed to bring my limp form to solitary, clean and dress my foot, and even Carlos's blood had been wiped off of my skin, so it had to have been at least a few hours. The lights were on in the hallway, so it must still be day time.

I swung my legs off the bed and tested out putting weight on my injured left foot. It hurt, but I needed to be able to run. So I got up and tried walking around. As long as I kept the brunt of the weight on the inside of my foot and mostly on the heel, the pain wasn't as bad. Although I looked super gibbled when I did that. I rubbed at my eyes. This was not ideal for an escape because my running speed was now hindered. Shit. I went up to the small window and looked out as much as I could. There was a guard posted to the left of my room. I guess I was now considered a high risk prisoner.

The fluorescent lights flickered above me and out in the hallway. The guard posted at my room shoved himself off the wall and looked around as if he was worried. I didn't think we had ghosts to worry about, but running out of fuel for the generators was a very real threat. He relaxed and leaned back along the wall. I was about to bang on the door when the lights went out fully. The room was close to being pitch black thanks to the fact that there was no window to the outside in here. Emergency lights flickered to life in the hallways.

The guard was now gone. I craned my eyes to try to see further down the hallway. He wasn't there either. He must've taken off and with him, the keys to my cell. What if they abandon the place and leave me in here to rot? I needed to escape, but how? I frantically looked around the room. There was a toilet and sink and cot. That's it. I yanked off the single mattress to get to the sparse metal bed frame. It was simply four metal slats on legs, interconnected to form a rectangle.

I leaned down and examined the corners. It took some arm strength, but I was able to disconnect the one. I stood up with the one end of the slat in hand and pulled until it was free of the other connected corner. This would hopefully work as a lever to wedge open the door. I peeked out the small window to the hallway to see two guards go running by, their forms more like shadows moving in the low emergency lights.

They paid my room no heed. I stuffed the flattest portion of the bed-frame piece into the apex where the door frame and door met and then heaved. The slat slipped out of the apex and fell to the ground, slipping out of my sweaty hands. I let out a huff of air and wiped off my hands on my pants, then tried again. I strained against the slat, trying to leverage the door away from the frame. This was an old hospital. The frame wasn't made of metal or whatever you usually saw in newer hospitals-it was still wood. If all the breaking and entering I had done over the last few months was any indication, this would eventually work; it just needed some elbow-grease.