S.M.A.R.T. (The Subject of Mind Altering Research and Testing)

Chapter Twenty-five

Michael woke to his alarm. Two o' clock. Tonight is the night. It had to go exactly as planned, and he was more than confident it would.

Michael turned on the lamp by his desk and rolled out of bed. He walked over to Blanco's cage. Blanco was curled up asleep. Michael wished he could take him with him. He took the little white rat out of his cage, and gave him a small peck, Blanco waking up with a yawn. This was his closest friend for the whole year, the only one who was always there. He wanted to cry, but he told himself it was for the better. He put the little white ball back its cage, and he swore Blanco knew. He left him a whole bag of crackers as an apology and started to get ready.

He dressed warm, layering most of his clothes on. He put on a pair of sweatpants under his pants and wore two pairs of socks and both of his sweaters. He hadn't been outside in almost a year besides the open courtyard, which he didn't think counted. He was looking forward to feeling the free air.

Michael grabbed his pouch, slung it over his back and walked down the hall. The typed the password into the door. A green light lit up and the door was open. He went through and checked left and right before leaving.

*

The General was wide awake in his office when the clock struck three. He opened a drawer in his desk and took out a pistol and his bag of pills. He swallowed a pill before tucking the gun into his waist-side holster and the pills in his pocket. His eyes lit. Three o'clock. Tonight's the night. He was going to stop Michael dead in his tracks. He was going to end this problem once and for all. He was going to kill him. He would find another test subject - one that he could handle - and he could get on with his project, without anybody meddling in his affairs from behind the scenes. Michael knew too much anyways. He can't go, and he can't stay. He has to die tonight. I can't wait to see the look on his face.

He left his office, and passed his room, shutting off all of the lights. He exited his wing, closed the door behind him firmly, and entered the dull white hallways of the facility, into the darkness. He crept silently throughout the halls, staying in the shadows while searching for any sign of Michael. He couldn't see him anywhere, and his senses were razor sharp. Maybe he left early. I might have some catching up to do. He made his way to Michael's hall when he saw the green light on the door. Michael had left the door wedged open. Hah, fool. He thinks he is clever. He's already slipped up. The General knew he was already gone. He double checked Michael's room, just to be sure it wasn't some sort of trap. He wasn't there. He has really figured out a way to get out the doors. He had to admit he was impressed. He was glad Michael had cleared his stuff out. It won't be his room anymore after tonight.

The General left the prisoner's room for the last time and made his way towards the door that Michael's journals had revealed he was going to escape through. He was silent and careful to check every step he placed along the way. He didn't want to be noticed by anybody - no more than Michael did. His plan was dependent on it being just the two of them out there. As he passed the courtyard on the way, he noticed there were faint footprints of melted water on the ground. The fool must have stopped for one last look in the courtyard on the way out. He really is slipping up. My bet is he hasn't gotten far at all. 

He got to the door to the outside of the whole facility. The first door was unlocked too, but Michael had remembered to close the last one. The foot prints came to an end at the door, leading only one direction. How the hell did he get both of these passwords...? Somebody must have told him. I'll deal with whoever that was too. This can't be happening again.

The General typed in the password to the outside of the whole facility and opened the door. He stepped out into the brisk air. The grass was still and the darkness was eerily silent. It was the dimmest hour of the Alaskan night, and the aurora borealis illuminated the sky in magnificent waves of iridescent green. He looked for a sign of a trail but didn't see one. Where the hell are his footprints?