Onio (19 page)

Looking
down, Spiles noticed the creature was conscious and watching him through
half-closed eyes. “People are approaching,” he murmured, and Spiles’s heart
skipped a beat.

Sure
enough, the lieutenant heard the sound of voices coming from an adjacent
hallway. It was the lieutenant colonel and Major Abernathy. Not knowing what
else to do, Spiles skidded to a stop in front of a custodial closet. He jerked
the door open and backed inside, dragging the bed and the sasquatch on it with
him into the darkened room. For a second the bed refused to move…it was stuck.

Bending
down, Spiles saw a forty-eight inch dust-mop wedged under the bed’s right-front
wheel. Tugging the mop clear with a grunt of effort, Spiles let the door close,
enveloping the room in darkness. He heard the colonel and the major walk past
the closet and down the hallway.

Spiles’s
heart banged with barely-suppressed panic and his breath caught in his throat
when he heard the sasquatch whisper, “Thank you for saving me, soldier…but why
do you do so?”

Spiles
shook his head and sighed. “I honestly don’t know. It will be the end of me if
we’re caught. It’s just that…I don’t like what’s being done to your people.
There has got to be a better way.”

Standing
in the dark room with a creature that could crush him with one giant hand tied
behind its back, Spiles let tears of fear and lost opportunities slide down his
cheeks. He had just committed a crime against his commander and his country. He
knew that if he didn’t think of something to get himself and his charge out of
this facility, and fast, life as he knew it had just come to an abrupt end.

Chapter 22

The
sasq warrior known as Blue (or Blue Sky), son to Two Horses, king of the
northern territories, and the human woman called Tanah, watched the small human
soldier weep with nervous terror. He wasn’t entirely sure why the soldier was
so upset but understood that the small soldier must be going against what his
leader wanted of him. He acknowledged that he, personally, would be too
frightened of what his father, the king, would do to attempt such a thing.

Pitying
the soldier, he murmured, “Is there some way you could barter for my freedom
with your superiors?”

Spiles
shook his head. “No. Somehow I’ve got to get you out of here. If you’re caught
they’ll kill you and probably arrange to have me killed as well.”

Blue
shuddered.
Killed outright?
He thought.
I could see killing the enemy
if they pose a threat, but to arrange for the death of one of their own kind is
extreme!
He sat up, wincing. The drug the doctors had given him was wearing
off now, but his head pounded and his mouth was dry as sand.

He
saw the soldier walk toward the back of the room. There was a muffled rattle
and a crack of false light painted the wall. “What did you find…uh, what are
you called?” he asked.

Spiles
turned around and Blue saw a grin come over the man’s face. “I was going to say
Lieutenant Spiles, but what’s the point? My name is Andy,” he concluded.

Blue
smiled in return. “My name is Blue Sky, but my friends and family call me,
Blue.”

Andy
studied the sasquatch’s face and answered, “It’s because of your eyes, right?”

Blue
nodded. “Yes, sky eyes are rare among our people.”

“Well,
it’s nice to meet you, Blue,” Andy said. “Now we need to get you the hell out
of here.” Turning back toward the hole in the wall, Andy sighed. “If it was me,
I could shimmy down this shaft and end up in the laundry room. There’s a
loading dock there and doors leading outside.” Turning toward Blue, he added, “But
that’s me. I’m kinda small and thin. Look at you…I don’t think you will fit!”

Blue
swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, steadying himself on the
edge of the gurney. “Let me look.” He walked to where Andy stood peering
through a hole in the wall. Nodding thoughtfully, the sasq said, “It can be
done, Ann. I will make myself small.”

Andy
frowned at the warrior. “How…how can you make yourself fit in there?”

Blue
shrugged. “Our bodies are not like yours…we are strong, pliable. Sasq bones are
not as rigid as the small humans’…I think I can make myself fit in that tunnel,
but where does it lead?”

“Well,”
Andy ran a hand through sweaty hair. “It should lead right into a large laundry
bin.” He saw the quizzical expression on the sasq’s face, and added, “A big,
soft box designed for catching dirty sheets and clothes.”

“Ah…laundry,”
Blue repeated.

“Thing
is, though, I don’t know if there is any laundry in the catch-bin. Listen….”
Andy paused for a moment, trying to think. “You stay here, okay? I’ll run
downstairs and see if the coast is clear.”

“The
coast….”

Blue
was looking more bewildered by the second and Spiles said, “Listen, I know that
this is hard. I don’t blame you if you decide not to trust me, okay? It’s the
first time I’ve gone against orders and I’m just feeling my way here, but if
you can trust me one more time I think I can get you out of here!”

Blue
looked the small human soldier in the eye and whispered, “I trust you, Ann.”
The words the sasq uttered were so sincere that it made Spiles’s heart heavy
with fear. What if everything went FUBAR? Both of them would be shot down
without a second’s hesitation by O’Dell and his henchmen.

“I’m
going down to the laundry room. I do have a couple of dress uniforms to check
out so it won’t seem too strange for me to show up. The hard part will be
getting behind the counter to make sure a bin is under this chute.” He glanced
at the sasq. “You need to stay low…hide,” he amended at the quizzical expression
on Blue’s face. “Will you do that for me?” he asked. “Over here would be good,”
Spiles pointed at the back corner, where a jumble of broom sticks, mop handles
and giant squeegees bloomed like a bunch of bizarre posies from an army green
plastic garbage can. A battered and dusty locker unit sat next to it in the
corner, and there was just room enough for the sasq to hide between the two and
not be seen.

Blue
studied the hidey-hole and nodded in agreement. “It is a good place, Ann. How
long will I need to hide?”

Andy
shook his head. “Not long, if things work out. I’ll signal you when the coast
is…sorry, when it’s safe to come down.”

Blue
moved to stand between the implement bin and the locker unit, nodding when
Spiles hesitated, looking back at where he crouched. “Good luck, Blue. I’ll try
hard to get you to safety. I’ll….” He shook his head and concluded, “I’ll see
you in a few minutes.”

Spiles
took a deep breath, opened the door a crack and peered out in to the gleaming
white hallway. There was no one visible along the way he and the prisoner had
come, but he couldn’t tell what was on the door’s blind side. Knowing there was
nothing for it, he flung the door open and stepped out of the custodial closet.

One
of the nurses stepped out of a room and turned right, away from where he stood.
Looking through the far side window of another one of the hospital rooms,
Spiles saw the janitor heading out of the room with two plastic bags of trash
in one hand and a bottle of disinfectant in the other.

Heart
pounding hard, Spiles closed the closet door and walked away down the hallway.
No alarms sounded, no claxon bells rang, and the young lieutenant gave himself
a mental slap. The way he was acting was signal enough in itself, he knew.
Straightening his shoulders, Spiles walked toward the concrete stairs leading
down to the laundry facility.

He
heard a rustle of plastic and saw a young private heading his way with what
looked like nurses uniforms slung over one finger from hangers and green scrubs
folded in a pile in the crook of his left arm. The private paused, looking
uncertain over how to show his respect. Spiles grinned and said, “At ease,
private…carry on.”

The
private said, “Sir…thank you, sir!” and fled up the stairs.

Spiles
moved briskly down the two flights of steps and suddenly the alcohol stench of
the hospital ward was replaced by the warm, starchy smell of clean laundry. He
entered through the double doors and prepared to wait, but to his relief there
was no one in line. He listened and heard the sound of voices in amongst the
mechanical grind and whoosh of giant, industrial washers, dryers and steam
presses.

The
problem, though, was the voices seemed to be coming from the area directly
under the room Blue hid in. Biting his lip uncertainly, Spiles stared around
the front counter. There was a compression bell on the counter, but the last
thing he wanted was more attention focused on him. He saw a pack of cigarettes
and a lighter on the desk by the back wall and made a snap decision.

Moving
swiftly, Spiles stepped around the counter, grabbed the lighter, and walked
past row after row of Army uniforms, bins of sheets and towels, and tables
piled high with hoppers of socks and skivvies. He stopped and hid behind a
shelf of bins as two techs moved laterally, one pushing and one pulling a giant
rolling cart filled with what looked like clean bedding.

Holding
his breath and watching the two young soldiers as they struggled with their
burden, Spiles saw an old Vogue magazine slipped between two plastic bins. Grabbing
the mag, Spiles knelt down and put the lighter flame to the corner of the
magazine’s front cover.

Then,
heart fluttering like a caged bird in his chest, Spiles spied a large canvas
bin filled with loose and, better yet, dirty sheets and pillowcases. He ran to
the bin, made a hole in the dirty laundry, placed the burning brand in the pile
and walked away. He made it back to the counter and, wiping a shaking hand over
his sweaty brow, gave the bell on the counter a sharp tap. DING!

A
young woman came around the corner and saluted. “Sir…how can I help you today?”

She
looked bewildered and rightfully so. No officer needed to come to the laundry
room for their clothes, and the fact that an officer was standing at the
counter, looking pissed as hell, was enough to give her a fright.

“I’ve
been banging this bell for over ten minutes, Private! I heard you and your
friends having a good time in the back room at my expense! Maybe I should have
a talk with your commanding officer!” Spiles barked, feeling bad for the young
woman whose freckly face was shiny with steam, sweat, and now, red with
embarrassment from a superior officer’s reprimand, which was probably not her
fault at all.

Suddenly,
to Spiles’s relief, he heard a shout. “Hey, what the…fire! There’s a fire!” The
private glanced at Spiles and then toward the sound of panicked voices.

“Well,
you’d better go and see what your
friends…
,” he put as much emphasis on
the word as he could muster, “are up to now! I DO think I’m going to talk to
your CO. Go!” he ordered and watched as the girl took off running. Then he did
so as well, but in the other direction.

Spiles
slowed to a dignified pace and looked up at the chutes that hung from the
ceiling like the trunks of metal elephants. There was no way of knowing which
one was which but he pushed a laundry bin under each and every chute. He tried
to think of a plausible reason for his actions in case anyone asked, but he
needn’t have bothered. His diversion was working…maybe too well. The sounds of
panicked voices and smoke were rolling through the air. The fire alarm started
up with a shrill whine, and Spiles wondered if his hasty plan was going to get
both of them killed.

Then
he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Turning around, he saw a metal
chute shift slightly and glancing up, Spiles saw the rivets that held it in
place on the ceiling strain and bend against the weight.

Running
back, Spiles saw that the basket was half full of stained and bloody sheets.
Expecting the sasq’s feet to emerge from the bottom of the metal tubing, Spiles
was shocked to see a depression appear in the laundry as something large but
invisible fell upon it. Then, an unseen hand grasped his forearm and Spiles had
to hold his breath to keep from screaming like a schoolgirl.

Not
knowing what else to do with this unexpected development, Spiles grasped Blues
hand and pulled. The whole laundry bin tipped over as the sasq scrambled out
but, thankfully, no one was there to observe the strange phenomenon.

Smoke
rolled through the air in waves and soldiers rushed to and fro holding towels
and pillowcases to their mouths to keep from inhaling the noxious fumes. As fire
claxons clamored and the overhead sprinklers rained stale water down on the
whole smoldering mess, Spiles and his invisible companion moved quickly and
calmly out the double doors, onto the loading dock area, around two fire
engines, and out into the clean, cool winter night.

Chapter 23

Lt.
Col. Terrance O’Dell stared at the monitor in silence. The fury in his electric
blue eyes was enough to make Captain Mike Parks shuffle his feet nervously.
Parks stood in front of the colonel’s desk, thus behind the monitor’s screen,
but the flashing green dots on the screen reflected in his superior’s bifocals.
The captain looked down at the carpet while the colonel tapped a staccato
tattoo on the desktop with his fingertips.