Barely keeping my eyes open, I grimace as Dave drags me by my hair. Feeling my palms slide over the rough pavement, I wait. Several turns pass as the enforcer follows his female counterpart like a dog. What a loser.
Feeling something slide under my lower back, I move one of my hands and palm it before reverting to my previous defeated posture. Ignoring the pain, I tilt my head backward and catch a glimpse of Dave. Every bit as pathetic as I thought and then some. Glancing at the woman, I confirm neither of them is paying attention to me. Flipping my palm over, I find an economy box cutter casing in my hand. Not great, but not useless. Squeezing it, I smirk. It's metal.
Flipping my palm back over, I contemplate using the pavement to grind the casing to a point. Glancing back at the enforcers, I sigh. Pathetic, but not stupid. Testing the casing, I quickly stop as the sound is just too distinct. Staring at the small white mark on the pavement, I settle back into the dragging motion.
He's dragging me with one arm and looking forward while doing it. I may not be heavy, but I'm not light. At about 60 kg or 130 pounds, most street thugs wouldn't be able to drag me this easily. Wincing as he turns another corner, I suddenly hiss as my back hits a concrete edge. It's not sharp, but it isn't exactly round. Feeling myself being tugged upward, I squint in pain as my back hits another edge. Using my hands, I ease myself over the next as I catch a glimpse of the ground. Stairs, that's what he's dragging me over. Rough, old, concrete steps.
Pushing my body up with his movements, I avoid most of the pain. Feeling the lack of further steps, I ease back into Dave's dragging when he suddenly lifts me up. Clenching my teeth, I ignore the pain and quickly hide the metal casing into a hidden pocket in my pants, just in front of my shin. It's not much, but no one expects a rip to actually be the opening to a pocket. Pushing me away, I momentarily see Dave ginning like a retard before his mistress yanks my head backward.
Feeling the situation going as well as it could have been, I could help but let a smile through. A mistake. Before I knew what was happening, my head smashes into a glass door. The glass door? completely fine. Me? Slightly bleeding, covered in cuts and bruises, and probably enduring a concussion. Not exactly a great start to this part of the plan. Feeling my vision shake again, I flinch as her pearly whites flash in front of my eyes.
"What's so funny huh? I love jokes so why don't you share what you found funny?" she snarls. What a nasty personality. Feeling my head spin, I say, "Nothing's funny, just wondering if you'll give him a chance?" Snorting, she pushes the door open with my head, "Never." Mentally calming my fear, I stifle my urge to laugh as Dave hesitantly asks, "Never? Like ever? I mean nothing's impossible right?"
Tuning them out, I scrutinize the interior of the enforcer's building. Stepping into a cell, the female enforcer shows her badge to someone on the other side before she pulls me through the other cell door. escaping is probably too difficult to attempt. Good thing I don't want to. Taking me past the hallway leading to the enforcer's quarters, and the armory, we stop at another checkpoint. Yeah, definitely no way out without help. Dragging me into a row of cells, she flashes her wrist on the locking mechanism before shoving me into the cell.
Throwing me into a corner, she inspects the room, "I never understood why you lot get more than a latrine." Grunting, she flashes her wrist on the locking mechanism once again before leaving my sight. Taking in a deep breath, I wait. The footsteps only get farther and farther away as I wait. The moment the footsteps couldn't be heard, several quiet profanities could be heard from the surrounding cells. Still not relaxed, I stare at the cell opposite mine. After confirming that there isn't any movement, I approach the cell bars and inspect the opposing cell. Empty. I sigh in relief. It's time to start preparing.
A toilet, sink, and three smooth grey walls. It's not much, but it will do. Inspecting the toilet, I find most of the piping hidden under the floor. Grunting, I move to the sink. Most of the piping is hidden in the walls, but I grin at the stopper inside of the basin. There's no handle meaning there's probably a lift-up rod as well as a pivot rod. I never learned anything useful from people outside the textile factory, but occasionally I would observe someone doing odd jobs. Any and all information can be life-saving and this might just be a prime example.
Placing my face as close to the wall as possible, I find nothing like a knob or handle. The stopper in the basin is just barely above the basin's surface so the rod shouldn't be longer than my finger, but it should be there. Unless the stopper is permanently fixed at that point, there should be a mechanism to adjust the height. Sliding my finger along the back of the faucet, I pause when I hear a click. Poking around for another few seconds, I confirm the loose piece. Pulling upward with my index finger, I sigh as my fingers just slide off. It's too smooth to be able to grip and pull up. Pushes at the piece from the sides, I get a few clicks, but no moving pieces.
It's there, but can't be moved without something like rubber gloves. Licking my molars, I walk to the bars again. Checking the hallway, I step back to the sink and gingerly slide under the basin. Grinning, I fiddle with the pivot rod. It's not that I didn't think of looking underneath, but that I didn't want to look suspicious if I didn't have to. After a few minutes of working on the rod, I find three hex head screws. Nothing fancy and nothing I'd need more than my fingers for.
Taking one between my thumb and index finger, I try to turn it. Clenching my glutes, I slowly start turning the bolt, off-hand gripping the sink basin. Yes, I'm left-handed. Breathing out I let go of the bolt and massage my left hand. Clenching and unclenching my hand, I listen for footsteps. It's not that I can't take the bolt off completely, but that the hard part for that particular bolt is over. I could probably stand over the sink and still remove that bolt by reaching under the basin. Sighing, I reach for the second bolt and start working on it when I hear footsteps coming down the hallway.
Slowly getting up, I move between the toilet and sink and prop myself against the back wall. Just seconds later, Dave walks into view with a clipboard. Tapping his pen on the bars a few times, he finally looks at me.
"I really wish I could've killed you. No paperwork, no follow up, and no complications."
"What's her name?"
"What's your name huh? Give me the slot and row number for your living space."
"That bad huh? Don't worry, you've got a chance. Girls like that never settle for anyone anyway."
Frowning at me, he tucks his pen into his coat and drops the clipboard. Waving his wrist on the locking mechanism, he steps inside the cell. Walking up to me, I whisper, "Do you really want me to kill you?"
Chuckling, I say, "I wouldn't have run if I wanted to die. I really think you have a chance."
Frowning, he folds his arms, "And what exactly is my chance? You think I don't know I'm out of her league?"
Sitting a bit straighter, I cough a bit of blood onto the back of my hand, "Her type of person is the same regardless of power and status. They will never settle for another like them. They will never settle for someone stronger, but they also will never settle for someone incompetent."
Scowling, Dave leans down and smacks his hand on the wall next to my head. "Compared to her I am incompetant. Where in your little speech is my chance? You think I can't end you right here?" he mutters.
Smirking I cough again, this time letting him see the smudges of blood on my wrist. Hook line and sinker, he's interested. "Don't discount yourself that fast, you may be less competent than her, but you aren't incompetent are you? You don't need to compete with her, that's going to instantly disqualify you."
Sneering at me, he motions for me to continue. Taking a breather, I take note of the small knife tucked into his left boot. "Loyalty. That's the answer. She will not be interested if gaining power and proving yourself to her is your approach. She most likely won't ever show interest in anyone. The only chance you have is by playing the long game and earning her full trust. It could be years, but once you get her trust it should be smooth hunting" I slowly explain.
Thinking about it, he nods before starting to turn around. It's now or never. Starting to get up, I start saying "wait" before devolving into a fit of coughs. Conveniently falling at his feet, I waste no time reaching for the knife and disabling the locking mechanism. For larger and more threatening knives it might be harder, but a blade as small as my hand is for emergencies. There is no reason for it to be hard to access or for the release to be loud. Palming the knife and pushing it up my sleeve as I got up using my other hand, I continue coughing until I had it sufficiently hidden.
Seeing his face crinkle in disgust, I catch a hint of blood on his boots. Trying not to smirk, I catch my breath and raise my hands in front of me. I don't think I can afford to take too many more hits right now. "Sorry. Sorry. If it's not too much trouble, can I have a basic first aid kit? I can't exactly be a good canon fodder If I can't even stand by the time I get there right?" I wheeze out.
Watching his face as he stared at his shoes in disgust, I waited. If he agrees, my situation improves. If he disagrees, nothing changes. Licking my cracked lips, I lament the lack of liquid blood still in my mouth. Maybe if I had more to cough out it would've looked more believable. Exiting the cell, Dave locks the door and picks up his clipboard. Nodding he says, "I'll send someone down if you answer my questions. The sooner you help me go home, the happier I'll be. The happier I am, the more likely I am to help you," he says while taking his pen out.
Eyeing the locking mechanism, I hum in acknowledgment. "Name's Rudra and I've got no one so don't bother looking," I say amiably. Nodding absentmindedly, Dave just walks away. Waiting for the sound of footsteps to disappear, I slowly fish out the metal boxcutter cover. When I couldn't hear Dave anymore, I let the knife slip back into my hand. Sliding the knife into the cover, I sigh as only half of the belly could fit. Staring at the exposed section containing serrations I run my finger over the spine. It's fine, at least I can't stab myself.
Patting my body down, I confirm that I only had a few nasty bruises and some minor cuts. Nothing serious. Glancing at the sink, I sigh. You can never have enough tools. Grabbing some toilet tissue paper, I let a meter go before tossing it in the toilet and flushing. Grabbing some more, I wrap my knife and cover. It might look slightly bulky, but I'm pretty sure there won't be an inspection from now on. Depending on which region we enter, This knife may even become useless.
Walking over to the sink, I wash the blood off my head with one hand while the other works the first bolt off. Feeling the bolt get stuck, I crouch down and yank it out with both hands. It's too short. only a few centimeters long, there's no reason for me to keep it. Tossing it into the toilet bowl, I turn the faucet off before checking the hallway again. Seeing an enforcer quietly inspecting the cells, I quietly walk to the toilet and flush the bolt down the piping.
Waiting patiently against the back wall, I watch as a benign-looking woman stop before my cell. Looking my body over, she coughs into her hand before saying, "I can only give you a few bandages right now. If you want I can get you some pain killers if you help me out." Watching her fingers drumming on her hip, I ask, "What kind of help are you looking for?" Her eyes practically swimming in craters of insomnia weren't the only things concerning me. It's mostly her posture. It's like she's assessing my worth. Hunched over and practically breathing on the bars.
Looking at the other cells, she drawls, "Nothing really, I just need you to test a pain medication for me. You get rid of the pain and I get to show how well it works." Clenching my hands, I decline, "Sorry, I'm not really that much pain if I stay still. Just the bandages will do." Too creepy. Too random. Too risky. Stick to the plan, don't involve more variable pieces. Clicking her tongue, she throws a pack of bandages into the cell and leaves. Gulping my saliva, I reach for the bandages.
Checking down the hall that she was gone, I find her waiting in front of the next cell staring at me. Feeling a drop of sweat roll down my temple, I find myself gulping my saliva down again. Seconds pass as we stare at each other. Why isn't she moving? Unlike her, I blink my eyes every few seconds. After a few more minutes pass she says, "So you killed your mother huh?"
Frowning, I say, "She was killed. I just did as everyone does. I didn't waste any resources." Keeping my breathing even, I watch as she creates another field of silence between us. That's when I realized that the other prisoners were also quiet. There was no sound at all in the hallway. Letting my eyes stray down the hallway for a second all I see are cold bars of steel. No one is watching. No one is making a sound.
Staring at her as she stares at me, I realize she is actually quite a looker. Sadly the sunken cheeks and black circles around her eyes make her seem like a zombie. Another minute passes before she nods and silently walks away. Not moving, I watch her until she disappears around the corner. Unconsciously wiping my forehead, I find it drenched in sweat. Taking one last look down the hallway, I move back under the sink. Loosening the lost two bolts I take them out and immediately start working the pivot rod out.
Flushing the bolts down the toilet, I look at the pivot rod. I can take the plastic bits off with a bit of work, but the rod itself needs to be ground to a point. Taking a peek down the hallway, I move between the toilet and sink. Taking out the knife, I work the plastic bits off first. Inspecting the knife, I frown at the chips in the knife belly. A loser's knife is bound to be terrible. Returning it to the cover, I throw the plastic bits and toilet tissue paper in the toilet and flush it down. What a convenient luxury. Wrapping the knife and cover thinly in bandages, I hid it in my secret pocket. Taking the rest of the bandage roll I wrap it around the shin. Anchoring the end of the bandage above the rip, I sigh. That's one weapon hidden. Grabbing the rod, I start grinding it against the floor.
Working at it for half an hour, I stopped as several pairs of footsteps could be heard moving towards the hallway. Glancing at the passable kabob skewer I take the second bandage and wrap the skewer to my arm. No use keeping anything behind. fixing the bandage haphazardly to my arm, I get up and walk towards the bars. It shouldn't be time to go, but who knows when I'll be sent to the next place.
Several guards pour into the hallway, systematically opening the closest cells and sending the inmates further into the facility. Waiting for my turn, I grip the bars tighter as someone appears in the opposing cell. She's grinning at me, gripping her arm while showing me. Breathing in, I control my facial expression. She points at my bandaged arm and then at her. Breathing out, I slowly nod. So she wants the skewer. Fine. She hasn't mentioned the knife so either I got lucky, or she doesn't want to push me too far.
Glancing down the hall, I watch as a pair of enforcers let the inmates in the cell next to me out. Wait for them to reach the next pair, they then let out the inmates in the cell diagonal to mine. Waiting for the inmates to reach the next pair again, the enforcers more onto the woman's cell. Ignoring me, she ducks her head behind her mottled grey hood. Paired with her mottled grey outfit, she blends in with the prison walls. Passing the enforcers, she gives me a cheeky smile and winks before quickly walking down the hall.
Glancing at the enforcers in front of my cell, I sigh. I'll have to give her the skewer, but I need to know if she knows about the knife. If she does, I'll have to play it passively. If she doesn't, she better hope I never find her back towards me.