The Cleaner

The Snow

The transportation vehicle jerked as it slowly curved its way round the icy bends of the mountain side. The passengers in the front seats clad in tact vests and holding weapons, jarred themselves awake with every tiny bump that caused the vessel to shudder. One rubbed underneath the brim of his hat and let out a deep sigh, the contents of his breath forming clouds in front of his face. The central console read 21:50 and a temperature of -16 degrees centigrade, it was cold, the kind you felt to your bones.

The sound of chain's clinking echoed through the front cabin, one of the guards used the back end of his assault rifle to slide open the tiny window just behind the seats. The man was still there, clad in a bright orange jumpsuit. The guard grunted and slid the window closed once again.

The blizzard was reaching new extremes now and the windscreen wipers were working overtime. The snow was becoming heavier to shift, evidenced by the groan the wipers were making on their way up and down. The headlights that where reaching far ahead moments earlier, only illuminated a sea of large white flecks, making the road barely visible.

"Jesus Christ" the driver had broken the silence, "I can't see a fucking thing."

"We will be there in an hour or so, not much further to go, we should be at the drop off before it really sets in, just stay awake" the driver's colleague handed him a cup of coffee, that had barely retained its heat, from the flask he was holding.

The driver took it from the outstretched hand, taking a big gulp he mocked, "take the back roads it'll be more discreet" he simply placed the drink in the holder and muttered his thoughts and feelings under his breath.

His hands were sore, the man in the orange jumpsuit could not really focus on much else. He cricked his neck both ways, hoping to hear relief which, upon the third time of bending at awkward angles, was granted. The space around him was quite dull, his seat, a small, square pouf like piece of plastic, was in the centre of the vacant space and since it was a part of the transports structure, had no give and provided zero comfort. His whole body ached, and his spine and neck were really beginning to hurt.

They had been travelling for what must have been three hours or so, he had remembered climbing into the space as the sun was setting. He had made estimations on the distance travelled based on the view he could see from the tiny little window the guard slid open every forty minutes or so. Telling the time this way came naturally to him after the many days he had spent in a small cold cell in isolation. The day had now turned to night and he had snatched a glance at the central console telling him the time. It was cold in the back and the thin layer which encompassed his body did little to fight it. They had to be arriving soon, surely. His body jolted again.

"Can this guy not fucking drive," he thought as his body made some awkward movements to tackle the chains and center itself again. Another jolt followed causing his body to lurch again, this time noise arose from the front of the vehicle.

"Fuck, keep your eyes on the road" the passenger said to the driver who had clearly shaken himself up a little from the slide.

"It's not my fault, I cannot see anything and the ice on the roads..." with that the back end of the vehicle went again.

Experienced as he was, the driver's instincts told him to slam on the breaks only causing the vehicle to veer further across the surface. Through the pounding snow and the noisy windscreen wipers, a barrier could be made out indicating a sharp left. The driver flipped the steering wheel from left to right and back again, it was no use. The transportation vehicle collided with the barrier, causing the back wheels to take their leave down the steep forested hillside. The rest of the vehicle followed suit colliding with several of the tall Redwoods on the way down before coming to an abrupt holt at the bottom of the mountainside.

The headlights flickered in the darkness as smoke gassed its way out of the remains of the upturned vehicle. Two bodies hung in the front cabin, covered in claret and barely recognisable, they were suspended only by their seatbelts. The back part of the vehicle was dented in every way possible and one of the backdoors hovered on its hinges, the accompanying door nowhere to be seen.

There were groans coming from inside the damaged shell. The man in the orange jumpsuit opened his eyes and came face to face with a white hard surface. Gritting his teeth, he moved his body; it was more than he bargained for as the surge of pain caused him to vomit in the exact spot his head had just lay. Finding he could move his arms quite freely he lifted himself onto all fours, the shackles were still around his wrists though one was no longer connected to the other. For a second, he could not believe his luck, but knew somewhere within himself that time was of the essence.

As the tinnitus faded, and his head came to his senses he used all his strength to stand. His legs now free to move, one in front of the other. As he tried to take that first step another surge of pain overwhelmed him, looking down he saw his ankle had been cut under the shackle that remained and it had broken the skin quite deeply. For a guy of his nature, he still could not handle the sight of blood and proceeded to empty what remained of his stomach. The stench was overwhelming, he thought back to the request he made for his last meal, now wishing he had not over-indulged so much.

Once he could face to take the weight of his body on his damaged ankle, he searched the container and made his way to the gaping hole in the back of the once secure vehicle. He clambered out wincing with every move and momentarily had to steady himself again as the cold air fully hit him. He could hear intermittent static and the odd beeping coming from the front of the wreckage. Bending down keeping his arms close to his chest, rubbing his biceps for warmth he peered in the cabin. The sight of the two men covered in their own blood caused another convulsion, though he had nothing left to give at this point.

Taking a deep breath in and groaning through his discomfort he unclipped one of the hanging bodies, slamming his eyes shut as he heard the thud of the body hitting the smashed windscreen. Should a great escape have been something he could have foretold this would not be his way of doing it, but for now it was all he had. Despite his unease at doing so, he dragged out the body and inspected it to see if there was anything of use to him. He searched the man's body, through a grimace, he found the key to the shackles surrounding his wrists. He momentarily thought about the Tact-Vest and the weapon connected to the driver's belt but assessed his situation more prudently, and peered inside the cabin again.

A large jacket and beanie hat that had fallen from the hooks behind the seats lay on the sea of smashed glass. Pulling them out carefully, so as not to disturb the other hanging body, he shook them off in the open air. His recently shaved head would welcome the warmth of the cotton hat as he placed it on his head. Shivering he placed his arms through the jacket, rapidly bringing his hands back round to blow air into them. He took a quick three sixty degree look at his surroundings and saw some lights in the distance. Looking down at his ankle he weighed up his options.

It hurt, but it wasn't unbearable, the lights didn't seem to be too far away, and he knew he certainly couldn't sit and wait. The sound of the howling blizzard had insulated any sound of a wreckage and in the unlikely event there was a rescue of any kind, he was never going to get this shot at freedom again. Any other injuries he had sustained he could check at a later point, he was sure. The decision sold itself and off he limped into the night towards the lights in the distance.