The World Without Flags

I inch low across the floor toward the door at the opposite end, listening carefully. I’m relieved to find that I’m alone. I stand up carefully into a crouch and creep forward, searching for the outlines of the door ahead of me. As I approach the end of the shelves, in the wall ahead of me, I see what I’ve been looking for: the door. The sight makes my heart skip, and I step carefully forward. I put my hand on the handle and push, opening the door, but only the barest sliver. Immediately I smell fresh air. I peer out through the crack of the door with one eye.

The moon is bright and large. I see in front of me dozens of rusted automobiles and trucks, like a junkyard. A path runs to the front of the warehouse. My heart thumping in me, I open the door and stick my head out, looking behind the warehouse. I see a large, rusting tank with a wood furnace underneath it. Gray smoke pours out a long tin stovepipe. I don’t know how it works, but that must be where the good Doctor gets the power for his laboratory.

Then I hear the river. The roaring sound comes up from past the steam engine tank, down a banking. I guess there’s a river down there. It’s what we need. A way to escape. I duck back inside and make my way back to Eric. I just have to get him through the laboratory, down the bank, and we can cross the river and get away. It will be easy leading him toward water. Eric’s standing with his face against the wall. When I grab him, he pivots and then walks directly into the open door, causing an echoing crash to pulse through the hallways.

“Unh!” he grunts.

I wait, counting heartbeats. No sounds. “Damn it, Eric,” I hiss. “Be careful!”

I maneuver him more carefully through the door and then down the hallway of shelves. He’s walking strangely again. He keeps shooting out his right arm. I have to keep pushing it down as he walks forward, in case he hits one of those horrible glass jars and brings it crashing to the floor. Then he takes a few steps and shoots it out again. I’m thinking to myself why now?! as we make our way down the long hallway toward the door when I hear a clattering. I push my knees behind Eric’s knees and drag him to the ground as the door opens loudly behind us.

I put my hand over his mouth and press firmly, hoping he doesn’t react by biting me.

He doesn’t. I lay beneath him, holding his mouth, as I listen to footsteps on the concrete. I look through the shelves and see shoes. Not boots, but shoes, leather shoes, polished, hardly dirty. Then the shoes walk away from me.

I feel Eric’s drool against my hand, but I hold him firmly. If he makes a sound, we’re dead. I look around on the shelves for a weapon, but there’s only jars full of dark liquid.

I stretch my neck to see what the Doctor is doing. I see his clean leather shoes in front of the chair. I watch his feet turn as he sits down on the chair where they shackled me before. I can’t see what he’s doing. Then I hear him groan a little. My heart beats, and I’m shaking. I hear him sniff then, and I think, he’s crying. Is he crying? Somehow this frightens me more. I’m trembling, holding on to Eric. I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping that Eric won’t make a sound. The Doctor makes a strong sound, like a growl or a moan. He coughs.

“Bill!” he cries suddenly. I just about jump out of my skin. “Bill!” He’s shouting for Squint. He makes a sound and heads for the door toward the prison cells. For a terrible moment, when he reaches the door, all the Doctor has to do is turn his head. Just a little bit. Just a fraction. And he’ll see us here on the floor, me beneath Eric, with my hand around his mouth. I see him clearly in that moment, his long black hair, his long, pale face, turned toward the door, his corduroy pants, leather shoes, his immaculate robin egg blue shirt. And then he swings the door open and vanishes, crying out, “Bill!”

The minute the door closes behind him, I scramble to my feet. I tug at Eric, my heart racing wildly. Any moment now, he’ll find Squint in the cell, and he’ll know we’ve escaped! Eric has no sense of urgency and goes “Unh” as he gets slowly up to his feet. I shove him forward more violently than I mean to, the adrenalin pulsing through me so hard I can’t think of anything except getting out of the warehouse. My shove sends Eric into the shelving and glass jars topple wildly off and crash to the floor.

“Run!” I plead. “Please run!”

I take Eric’s hand and pull him roughly forward as I hurl myself toward the open door. I push the handle and then Eric crashes into me from behind.

“Unh!” he exclaims. He has me pinned against the door so I can’t open it.

“Back up!” I cry. I arch my back and push him backward and then throw the door open.