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Chapter -9- Prison Break

December 22, 2023 - 11:25pm PST San Francisco, California Pages Lost Nightclub ...

"Why the hell isn't this door opening?" exclaimed a man from outside the door. His voice caused Samantha Summers to sweat. She held her hands still while the little rat-like animal gnawed at the ropes that bound her wrists together. She felt her adrenaline spike. The man shouted to someone else, "Get this thing open! I want to see her face when she sees LARA. Get this goddamn door open right now! Why the hell is the door handle hot?!"

Samantha looked back at the door then back down to the animal. "You didn't happen to melt the door into the frame, did'ja? Of course not. You're an animal that has a taste for ropes. And let me just tell you how much I love you right now, little guy."

The door shifted from a strike against it. A crack formed around the frame. Samantha tasted plaster dust from the ceiling and spit it from her lips. Another loud noise came from just outside. She heard the man shouting again. "Give me that goddamn sledgehammer! I'll do it myself!" The loud noise quickened in tempo.

"Not much longer now. Please hurry." The little animal chewed into the ropes. She pulled her wrists away from one another, trying to help by keeping the restraint taut. "Almost there! You can do it!"

The door swung open. The man from earlier stood in the doorway with the hallway lighting behind him. Beyond, she could see a catwalk and colored lights and rafters. She swallowed, eyeing his silhouette.

"So is LARA the name of your maul?"

"Oh you wish, bitch." The lights came on in the room. He saw the creature on her lap. "Ha! That's the biggest goddamn rat I've ever seen!" He approached her with the sledge in one hand. His other hand reached for her.

The rope snapped away from her left hand. She opened her arms and reached up for the handle of the sledge. Samantha put her feet up on his hip, arched her back off the floor, and pried the large hammer from his grip.

"What the hell?!"

She fell onto her back and quickly rolled away from him. He lifted his foot and stomped the dirty floor tiles. The man pivoted and turned to her.

Samantha swung the hammer across the floor and struck his ankle. She thrust it down onto the floor and pushed herself up then moved around behind him and put the shaft of the sledge against his throat and pulled.

The man gagged and reached for the handle but couldn't pull it away. He panicked and flailed but couldn't manage the breath necessary to call for help. He stomped on the floor and squirmed, trying to get free.

"Shh, it'll all be over in a minute," she whispered into his ear. "You deserve this. Just accept it. I beat you, asshole."

He brought one of his hands up and tried to hit her but she ducked her head to the side. "Almost. This is the hardest part. It's almost over, big guy." He tried jerking his head back at her, harmlessly. She grinned eagerly then told him, "I'm going to burn this dump to the ground. There won't be anything left when I'm done. I hope Krys Monroe is here, because she'll go down with the ship, I promise."

His struggling lessened. She grit her teeth. Tears ran down her face. Her eyes stung from the plaster dust that fell from the ceiling earlier. She grimaced, trying to keep the pressure consistent despite the ache in her arms. "Just give up. Either die or pass out already, you woman beating son of a bitch. Trust me, it's better to just die now than to burn alive because I'm not going to stop until this place burns to the foundation." Her arms trembled. Her muscles ached.

The man's body relaxed. She kept the pressure consistent then leaned forward over his shoulder and listened for breathing. She heard only silence. Her head snapped up, looking at the doorway. 'Where is the other guy who brought him the maul?' Silence.

She gave one final tug on the sledgehammer's handle then released it. It dropped into the motionless man's lap. She wiggled out from between his back and the wall then looked around.

The little orange-furred animal sat up on his haunches. His nose twitched and his ears perked up. She tilted her head and saw down along his belly then coughed. "You're a boy, huh?" Her eyes zeroed in on the collar with a small tag. She dropped to all fours and panted. She sat up on her knees and shook her arms, trying to get blood flowing. "Thank you for chewing these ropes. Give me a minute, just need my circulation back."

She looked at the doorway then began working on undoing the knot where the rope still hung from her right wrist. She loosened the knot just enough to create a measure of slack then pinned the rope to the floor with her knees. She cupped her hand and kept her thumb tucked down and pulled her hand free.

Summers rubbed her right wrist. "I don't know what's worse, rope burn my forehead. Why am I talking to you like you're listening?" She shook her right hand then rubbed it with her left. "Friction burn. It hurts like hell. Funny thing about the human body. Spike the adrenaline and you can take a bullet and you might not even know you've been shot. Then when that crap thins out and you get a paper cut or a rug burn, you're miserable as hell." She shook her right hand for another moment then leaned down and examined the tag on his collar. "Kuda, huh? Is that kanji under the lettering?"

The agent stood up, glanced at the open doorway again then cracked her knuckles. A bevvy of rapid pops sounded overtop of one another. She tilted her head left then right, popping her neck. "They're going to wish they never attacked me in my sleep. That's how this started, you know." She looked back at the animal who gazed up at her in return. "I didn't just get caught or anything. I've been training. I'm better than that now. No, they had to do it the cowardly way. They came to my hotel and tossed gas canisters into my room while I was already sleeping. I vaguely remember leaping out of bed then I collapsed. That shouldn't count against me."

Samantha balled her hands into fists and said, "Let's see if we can escape. I can't fight them without my equipment. If I can sneak out of here and replace my gear, I can come back and drop this place the right way. Full scale attack." She walked to the doorway and peered out into the hall.

Adjacent office doors were closed. Several feet in front of her the floor dropped out. She walked to the railing and peered over the edge at the dance floor below. "It's a busy Friday night crowd down there, Kuda. I should be able to walk amongst everyone and just waltz right out of here." She looked back into the holding room.

The miniature fox was missing. She glanced from left to right but the little animal was nowhere to be found. She stepped back into the hall and looked around. There was no sign of the little orange creature. She swallowed then walked back to the railing and peered over it again. "Okay. I won't burn it down tonight. Gotta give you a chance to get out of here, little guy. Plus there are patrons here. But they won't be open Christmas Day, that's for sure."

She gazed back into the holding room one last time to double check. There was no sign of the little animal. The simple room was half missing the floor tiles, and had a dingy empty closet section on the back wall. A broken pipe dripped water on the floor across from where she'd laid for most of the afternoon. She sighed and shook her head. "I won't miss this place, that's for sure."

Summers headed down the hall and found a service elevator with a wrought iron gate. A little further down she found a door marked as the stairway. She headed down to the ground floor and walked out to the dance floor. She wiggled through the crowd and kept her head down but her eyes up. Moments later she found the side exit door leading out to the parking lot.

The cool crisp air felt invigorating compared to the stuffy hot unfinished office in the rafters. She headed into an alley on the side of the building, lined with large dumpsters. Samantha swiveled her head up, gazing at where the rooftop leveled off into a flat section. She glanced back at the dumpsters.

A door on the side swung open. She tensed up, ready for a fight. Instead, some sorry looking waitress stumbled out with a bag of garbage. The woman walked past Samantha, threw the bag up into the dumpster, sniffed and mumbled.

Summers looked her over, sizing her up. "Are you okay?"

"My boss is a dick," she pouted then walked back into the side door leading to the kitchen. It slammed shut.

Samantha rubbed her forehead and sighed a breath of relief. "Reno Nevada leaves here able to throw lighting. What do I get? Bruises. And freaking rope burn." She rubbed her right wrist again then walked out of the alley and made her way up the block. The further she got from the club, the better she felt.

After a moment to get her bearings, she made her way towards Lance Patterson's address. By the time she arrived, she wished she'd had a jacket and shoes, and all she wanted was a hot bath and a good night sleep. She made her way up the steps and opened the door.

Lance sat on his recliner with a tablet in his hand. He arched his brows at her disheveled state. His eyes lowered to her bare feet. "Your phone and eye contacts have been offline for three days."

"We can talk about it all you want tomorrow. Right now, I need a bath and a bed. I just broke out of Pages Lost. They beat the shit out of me for the last day, trying to get me to talk. They even tried Sodium Pentothal. But it just made me groggy and chatty."

Lance slid off the sofa, put his iPad on the coffee table and moved around to her. He shut the door behind her and guided her to a staircase. "The drug tends to make people ramble. Thiopental is dangerous if they don't know how much to give you. It can put you in a coma, and it was used as a lethal injection. In some states, it still it used. When was your last shot?"

"End of my first day. I'm fine. I smell like piss, I'm hungry. I feel like crap. I have a headache and I just want to get in the tub."

He guided her into a surprisingly lavish bathroom and helped her to sit down on the closed toilet. "Once upon a time, I would have sat you down and washed your feet. Times are different now. I'll run you a bath, make you some hot tea and bring you something to eat. I'd offer chocolate cake, but you look like you haven't eaten in over twenty-four hours. It might be a bit rich on your stomach. How are you feeling on an emotional level?"

She glared at him for a moment then, in a soft voice, said, "My blood-sugar is fine, if that's what you're asking. I'm just hungry."

"Yes, well, let's get you in the tub. Take off your clothes."

She arched her brows at him.

"I need to examine you. You're covered in contusions. Serious, swelling hematoma can lead to complications. Pants and shirt off, now."

"I was given ice when I woke up this morning. Right now, I'd settle for some painkillers."

"Fine. I have naproxen sodium and ibuprofen. But first, get your clothes off. I want to look you over before we get you in the tub." He walked to the bathtub and plugged it then turned on the water. He turned back to her and motioned with a rolling of his hand. "Let's go. I need to check anywhere you can't see. Back of your legs, your back and shoulders, under arms. Did they hit you in the head at all?"

"Yeah, plenty of times. God, okay, chill out Patterson. I appreciate the concern but you're bordering on being creepy right now."

"I don't need you dying on me from something like Compartment syndrome, especially if it's something we can take care of. I don't care about your modesty. Had I known where to look for you, I could have sent Karla or someone to find you. Then again, she and her friends are plastered drunk tonight. I might have had to come for you myself."

"Gee, so glad I didn't have to put you out tonight." She wiggled out of her clothes. "The blond girl is old enough to drink, huh?"

"Ah, yes. Quite old enough. And she's quite apt at handling such. I imagine she'll be the only one not to have a hangover tomorrow." Lance took her by the arm and helped Summers to her feet then he turned her towards the toilet and examined the back of her legs and her back. He shook his head at the excessive bruising on her body. "I promise we'll retaliate soon."

"You bet your ass I'll retaliate soon. Why are your pals drinking anyway?"

"They're celebrating. They managed to get themselves in the news using their abilities. Surprisingly, thanks to a friend that Karla has at the Chronicle, they were able to control what was said about them. And the story was done in a rather positive light. Your friend Reno Nevada was hailed as a hero."

"Nevada?!"

"Yes. He saved lives by disarming a gunman. Then he showed off by throwing lightning for the camera. Of course people think it's a stunt in the wake of all the police that left San Francisco, but people are calling them superheroes."

She walked to the bathtub and slumped into it with a sigh. "I don't even care anymore. I just want to relax." She glanced back at him and said, "Sorry for calling you creepy. I'm just really tired. I appreciate you taking care of me."

Lance nodded. "I'll be back with the tea and something for you to eat." He left the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

She sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "Wish I was celebrating tonight. I hope Nevada wakes up with one hell of a hangover tomorrow afternoon."

X

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