Sixty-nine: Escape

Pulling out the lines in my arm and grimacing at the pain and lurching in my stomach, I went to Mr Raring's room. Strangely, there were no soldiers in the corridor.

He looked up at me with surprise and alarm, when I beckoned him to the door.

"We have to get out," I told him. "The doctor wants to either put me in a forever coma or maim me and get me pregnant with Kiran's child so that I won't try to escape or influence his fighting ability in the war."

"All right," Alistair scratched his head. "Where are the guards?"

"I don't know," I shrugged, "but we have to go now, while we still have the chance."

"It could be a trap," Alistair said. "They may not spare either of us a second chance. Definitely not me."

"What do you want to do then?" I asked him, doubling over with a painful cramp.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, taking my arm.

"Withdrawal symptoms from whatever the doctor had been putting in my drinks," I waved him off and straightened up when the pain eased off enough. "I'm not staying. Since we have this chance, I'm going."

"Very well then. Lead the way, Miss Wallace."

Mr Raring supported me by the arm and I took him to the storage room beside the toilets. His expression said everything, but he didn't say a word. Unlooping the hidden key from behind a machine mounted on a wall, I moved some mops and brooms from another wall and flicked at what looked like a patch mend on the wall, which actually hid the handle and keyhole. Unlocking the door, I pushed the heavy thing open, surprised a little and greatly relieved when it scraped, but didn't screech.

Wind whipped at us on the small platform with a rickety railing. Mr Raring helped me shut the door, before he caught me when another cramp hit me. He took the key for safe keeping. Hissing, I fought the pain and led him along the rusting platform to a swaying stair, which led to another balcony. I paused before we entered the view of those windows. Mr Raring peered around and nodded at me that all was clear. We followed the small maze of balconies, stairs and ladders until we finally reached the overhead walkway that connected this building to the next one. Half the neighbouring building seemed to have been involved in a massive explosion. The windows of all the lower floors had been blown out. At the gate to the overhead walkway, was a rusty padlock and I sighed. Stuck.

"I can do this," Mr Raring said, taking off his shoe and somehow pulling picklocks out of a hidden compartment in the sole. "I may be out of practice, but I doubt I've lost my knack. I was very good at picking locks as a young man."

"Huh," I replied when the lock sprang open, moments later. "Who'd have thought you were once a burglar? If we keep low, we'll be less likely to be seen."

"So why was this overpass blocked off?" Mr Raring asked, stepping into the overpass with me and locking the gate behind us. I didn't know why he would do that, but I was sure he had a reason. We dropped into a crouch and hurried along the overpass. "There's not much point in an overpass if no one uses it. It's got a cage enclosing it too."

"Too many attempted suicides," I told him, pointing to where the wire cage had been cut and mended in several locations, "and keeping security here was too expensive, so they sealed it off from both buildings. Renovated the building interiors. There is a real door, but it's alarmed and hard to get to. The outside path is troublesome and you're more likely to be seen, but it's easier to get to."

Mr Raring gave me a long sidelong look.

After a moment of silence, he made an arm movement.

"I give up, Jean. How did you know about this route?"

"Tony, the next door maintenance man and the feral cat," I shrugged. "I have to say, it was quite a job chasing the feral cat back down to street level."

"I'm sure it would be," Mr Raring said with a strange expression on his face. "Jean Wallace, are you sure you are not some undercover secret agent of some kind?"

"Yes," I replied, stopping for a moment to catch my breath. My stamina wasn't what it used to be and my head was pounding. My stomach hadn't stopped lurching with every step. "If I was, I'm pretty sure I'd know it. Wouldn't I? Anyway, who would I be working for? I can't even decide who the good or bad guys are anymore. All I know is that the war has destroyed my life."

"True," Mr Raring said and was silent for the rest of the way.