Gateway Part Two

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Gateway Part Two

“Hey you! Wake up shithead.”

Kef got up and traced the voice to the large man standing over him.

“You're in my bed. You sleep on the floor. Asshole.”

This was going to be rather unpleasant, Kef knew that much. At least the guy didn't crawl into bed with him. The new guy identified himself as 137. Kef wondered what his friends called him. Turned out to be 137.

It was 137 who told Kef about the gun.

“A gun is your only way out of here Kef.”

It was not an exit Kef wished to consider.

Even with the sentence being longer than he'd planned for, Kef did not want to die.

“It's not that kind of gun, dumbass.”

Kef didn't understand. Neither did the other prisoners he asked. Only the foul-mouthed 137 seemed to know.

“What do you mean 137?”

Kef was left without an answer. He'd asked when he'd returned to his cell after exercise, but 137 was asleep. It was hard to tell most of the time. 137 had his eyes closed a lot. Kef was beginning to realise that 137 did not like people.

It was 3a.m when 137 slapped Kef awake.

“You ever heard of WormHol?”

Kef nodded before 137 could swear at him.

“Okay, good. That makes explaining this easier. You know how they transport?”

Kef nodded again, shocked that 137 was managing sentences without swearing.

“The gun? It's like that.”

Suddenly, a gun seemed like a much better way out of anywhere than anything else.

As he was already a criminal, Kef saw no problem with attempting to steal the gun. Besides guards. Finding the gun would also be a problem. As would be trying to use it. He assumed 137 had already tried to steal it and could be useful for more information later.

Another problem. If 137 had tried to steal it and failed, how would Kef manage? 137 was bigger and stronger than he was. There had to be a way around that. Persistence overcomes weakness. That’s what Chad told Kef one night when he was high.

“You give up too easy Kef. I mean, look at me. I’m no quitter...”

That much was true. Chad could not be called a quitter. Kef decided that was enough of a lesson.

“Where’s the gun?”

“Fuck off Kef, I’m trying to sleep.”

“Take me to the damn gun.”

137 got up. He was wearing a pair of shorts, nothing else. Good, Kef thought, it’ll look better this way. 137 led the way through the dark. 137 had bribed an officer with his fist just before lockup. They didn’t have long. Either he’d be found or he’d wake up. The alarm would be raised and they’d be in trouble.

It turned out that the gun was in a chamber in the basement. Well, it was supposed to be. Kef and 137 arrived to find no gun. The alarm had been raised. It didn’t take them long.

Several officers faced them. Kef pulled his handcuffs around 137’s neck. He’d been quick, but 137 struggled. This was not part of the deal. Trying to make it look realistic didn’t matter. 137 tried to lift Kef onto his back to ease the tension around his neck.

“F-f-fuck you K-kef.”

137 noticed it first and stopped struggling. Of all the officers facing them, only one had a gun.

137 laughed.

“Hope you’re a good shot, asshole.”

The officer said nothing.

“Kill me and you’ll be in my old cell, shithead.”

Still nothing. The officer knew the penalty for injuring a hostage.

“137? Mouth shut. Now.”

It wasn’t the officer with the gun who spoke. Neither Kef nor 137 noticed which officer it was. There were two flashes and Kef was gone. When 137 opened his eyes, he was in his cell and all he could hear were Kef’s last words echoing around the room.

“Give me the gun or I break this motherfucker’s neck.”