The World's Most Wanted 2: The Marked Man

Chapter 3: Unstoppable

Chapter 3: Unstoppable

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Mark Fischbach

The sounds of the ongoing commotion behind me gradually faded away as I pushed forward, minding my surroundings in the maze-like corridors of the facility. Footsteps were heard from all directions, most likely the guards coming to the aid of the fallen.

The place was dimly lit by small fluorescent lights hanging from the ceiling; the walls were faded grey worn out by time. It was a messy sight, not to mention the foul stench of stale sweat, rotten food, and other forms of disgusting substances as thick leaking drainage pipes were built in the ceilings and walls.

Up front was another junction of halls, with one going forward and the other making a right. I kept my right shoulder pressed against the wall making my way to the corner. I stopped there and cautiously peered around it, checking if the spot was free of guards. I saw none, to my relief. I hastily ran to the other side clutching the Glock tightly in my hand with my finger on the trigger.

Upon reaching the spot, I ran but keeping a quiet movement eventually slowing down upon seeing another corner.

Repeating the routine, I glanced over to see two guards talking, one had their back turned at me while the other to his side, they were both armed with shotguns and in full body armor. "There's been an alleged prison break from the west wing." The guard said, "An inmate went missing right after the gates were opened."

Little did I know that I was leaning too far. I quickly retreated and hid from them.

"Wait," The other stopped their conversation, "I think I saw someone." He said pointing to where I was.

My heart missed a beat as soon as I heard footsteps coming to my place. I frantically looked around, searching for a place to hide. Then I turned to the thick pipe passing through the floor and leading to the ceiling.

I quickly climbed up, but the mossy surface of the pipe was slowing down my progress. It was like rock climbing, but only with the added life and death situation. I grunted silently, finally reaching the ceiling and wrapping my arms and legs around the overhead pipes, all while clutching the gun in one hand.

All my weight went to my back as I stayed suspended from the ceiling, getting an upside down view of the corridor. I pulled myself closer to the pipe hugging it and feeling the coldness of the steel. I refrained from any sudden movements the second the two guards stopped directly below me, searching the place.

"I thought I saw something." He said.

Then I felt something near my foot, a rat was crawling on the pipes and up my leg. I bit my lip as the rodent crawled down my thigh and onto my chest making its way to my face. I gently tried blowing it away in an attempt to get it off my face, but I felt its nose sniff my beard giving me an unbearable tingling sensation.

"Get fucking off." I whispered, shaking my head, still aware that the jailers were there.

My arms throbbed, the weight was beginning to weaken my grasp. My heart leapt to my throat as I began to lose grip, and the rat won't stop sniffing my face. My whole being trembled, desperately trying to stay that way longer.