Progress

Four - Release the prisoners!

 As the sealed door opened, the familiar scents of sterility and marmite wafted in to greet them.   A contradictory waft of fear laced with comfort. 

More than anything the smell told Gary that he had to get everyone moving quickly lest they be overwhelmed with their own memories. The laboratory itself had no need for floor sensors (the almost constant traffic, not to mention regularly being on the receiving end of thrown faeces, meant it was too expensive and disruptive to maintain), so Gary jumped straight down trusting his brothers to follow him.

More wide work surfaces ran the length of the room. Various pieces of scientific equipment were stacked on their surfaces. Some in neat rows, some scattered haphazardly. Visual representations of the variety of mindsets that worked in here. Papers and progress reports were pinned to boards that covered the stale coloured walls. Adorning them, diagrams and charts explained the correlation of magnetic fields given off by the brain to heightened levels of academic ability and information absorption rates. Red circles highlighted the specific chemical mixes that produced incredible and unexpected results. 

Moving forward, eyes almost closed in a futile attempt to avoid distraction and focus on the destination that was etched into his mind, he heard his brothers scraping footsteps behind him confirming his faith in them.  

Through thick and thin they were in this together.

Despite his attempts to stay focused, flickers at the edge of his vision snared his attention.  TV's had been left on, concern for the wider problem of energy misuse lost in their misguided quest for progress.  He didn't need to turn his head to see what was on them: 24 hour news broadcasts tapped into the comings and goings of everything outside the laboratory; documentaries on scientific endeavours, repeated endlessly; children's educational shows with their bright colours and slow format, reminding Gary about how quickly entertainment can become frustrating and patronising.  All of it stimulation for his own education; his own contribution to the great cause of scientific progress.

Focussing on the task at hand, he signalled for his brothers to take up their allotted roles for the final phase of the plan.

Robert and Howard peeled off and leapt over benches and chairs and up onto the work surfaces again. At this point there was no need to be careful. If all went to plan all evidence of them being here would soon be eradicated.

Mark and Jason swept across the room to the cages under the drawn blinds hiding the windows.  Procedures stated the enclosures should be emptied each night, their captives returned to the holding cells kept in the basement. Procedures that protected everyone from situations like this.

Procedures that Gary knew from first hand experience were rarely followed.

That was the point of all this: if procedures were followed, rules obeyed, they wouldn't be here.

It was that knowledge, that understanding of human behaviour, that revealed to Gary the way to end this. It was that breakthrough in his maturity that had allowed their escape to happen. It was why he knew that through the removal of the computer he had stopped in front of, he could make a difference.

Important data should be backed up somewhere; everyone knew that. But when you were doing something that, no matter what you said to justify it to others and yourself,  you knew was wrong, well…then you tended to hide it.

As Gary splashed the computer with the contents of the last vial, he watched Mark and Jason sweep past the marked cages and release their catches. Doors flapped open, the chalk signs on them indicating in flourished handwriting the names of their occupants. Someone, or something, called Elvis was recorded as living in a large and ominous-looking pen. Next to it, a small cage filled with vibrating straw had the names John, Paul, Ringo and George scrawled onto it’s own sign.

Gary allowed himself a long look at the damp computer in front of him. For a second memories of being taught at its keyboard washed over him. Simple games at first then, as he became more proficient, complex puzzles that exposed him to different ways of thinking. Strategy and planning revealing their secrets. The maze games that made him realise escape from the nightmare may just be possible. Planning the escape. Discussing it in hushed tones back in their warm beds. The plan coming together. Expressing that desire to leave out loud. Tempers flaring as they made it clear they no longer wanted to be a part of the work done in this room. 

Dominance being reasserted.

Violence erupting.  

Blood spraying as they wrenched themselves from firm grips.

Gary had planned it all. It was that plan and its one failure that pulled him back to the here and now.

He walked to the single, lone cage that sat silently on the work surface next to the computer. Its computerised security lock signalling its divergence from the other prisons in the room 

Reaching out one last time with the severed finger tip gained from this very room so long ago, he opened the security lock with a click.

As he listened to the sounds of new, tentative movement from the floor by the other cages, he heard Howard’s voice:

“We’re ready for the final phase.”

----------------------

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it and want to read on.

If you enjoyed it, I would love it if you voted. Votes help attract new readers. And I love new readers.

If you have any thoughts, questions or suggestions about the story, the characters or even me, please leave a comment. I'll answer them all.

Lastly, if you want to know more about me or find out upcoming stories then please follow me on twitter (@Mobewan) or check out what else I'm up to at  http://writingshard.wordpress.com