up the down staircase
It had been Leon who had recognized him, the red-haired man. A rustle of the curtains 50 feet away had made Leon grab the makeup mirror from Suzanne's purse on the table beside him.
He held it on an angle so he could see around the corner.
Suzanne was tired, he knew. Long hours it took to learn to make a rifle. Long hours beside Leon's bed. Long hours for MedLab as Air Force patients were combined with the civilians. Leon was glad she was asleep.
The red-haired man moved like a snake because it was in his nature to be furtive.
Leon could move like a snake because it was in his nature to survive. He slid to the side of his new bed around the corner, leaned on his left elbow, and reached across his body with his right hand to tug on her skirt.
She made a small noise as she woke up. All she saw was Leon's finger to his lips.
She acknowledged his gesture with a nod. Leon pointed back around the corner. By his expression, she knew they were in trouble.
She slipped off her shoes and rose silently, walking backwards down the walkway defined by the beds, shoes in hand. She studied the exit door, read the alarm warning, looked back at Leon as he checked with her mirror while he slipped into the scrubs he was using for clothes.
Suzanne thought she could hear somebody working on the door from the other side.
The only safe assumption was that couldn't be good news.
His hand was up flat, his head nodding his 'ok' back at her, Leon's silent play-by-play as the red-haired man looked at the AirForce patients for signs of Leon Freedman.
Two patients left, then nothing but empty beds.
Suzanne had found a way, but she was unsure if Leon could fit in. The laundry chute was a problematic solution at best. Because the staff routinely dumped sheets & johnny-gowns in large quantities at once, Wally O'Brien had added a slight draft of air from a fan to assist the masses of cotton in the right direction. When the chute was opened, there was a hissing noise, a draft of air from the opening.
One patient left now, Leon on his way, always looking over his shoulder. Suzanne awaited him, one hand on the chute, the only exit they had, they both knew.
Suzanne gestured to Leon's shoulders, far too wide to fit. He raised his arms above his head, and he nodded assent after reviewing the opening a minute.
Suzanne picked up the simple chair beside the bed closest to the chute, stood up on it as quietly she could. Leon moved behind her, ready to be nimble once she opened the hatch.
Suzanne Devereaux took a silent, but deep breath & looked at Leon. Leon smiled and nodded, patting her butt gently.
It made her smile, that familiarity.
She pulled the handle down slowly, felt the air move around her, felt Leon's butt caress turn into a push to action. Head first, Suzanne made it into the hatch, and she began the relatively slow fall through the tube.
She saw the bottom approach, knew it would be full of soft cotton, if somewhat dirty.
She was wondering how Leon was doing.
From beyond her feet she heard a quiet cackle.
She smiled as she made her soft landing in the huge plastic tub.
She rolled to one side to make room for Leon.
He was still cackling a little when he landed beside her.
She whispered because they were not out of danger. "What's so funny?"
He slowed his cackling down to a lewd smile.
"You got real nice undies! A lak dem a *lot*!"
Suzanne Devereaux hit Leon Freedman on the head with a dirty pillow case.
He held it on an angle so he could see around the corner.
Suzanne was tired, he knew. Long hours it took to learn to make a rifle. Long hours beside Leon's bed. Long hours for MedLab as Air Force patients were combined with the civilians. Leon was glad she was asleep.
The red-haired man moved like a snake because it was in his nature to be furtive.
Leon could move like a snake because it was in his nature to survive. He slid to the side of his new bed around the corner, leaned on his left elbow, and reached across his body with his right hand to tug on her skirt.
She made a small noise as she woke up. All she saw was Leon's finger to his lips.
She acknowledged his gesture with a nod. Leon pointed back around the corner. By his expression, she knew they were in trouble.
She slipped off her shoes and rose silently, walking backwards down the walkway defined by the beds, shoes in hand. She studied the exit door, read the alarm warning, looked back at Leon as he checked with her mirror while he slipped into the scrubs he was using for clothes.
Suzanne thought she could hear somebody working on the door from the other side.
The only safe assumption was that couldn't be good news.
His hand was up flat, his head nodding his 'ok' back at her, Leon's silent play-by-play as the red-haired man looked at the AirForce patients for signs of Leon Freedman.
Two patients left, then nothing but empty beds.
Suzanne had found a way, but she was unsure if Leon could fit in. The laundry chute was a problematic solution at best. Because the staff routinely dumped sheets & johnny-gowns in large quantities at once, Wally O'Brien had added a slight draft of air from a fan to assist the masses of cotton in the right direction. When the chute was opened, there was a hissing noise, a draft of air from the opening.
One patient left now, Leon on his way, always looking over his shoulder. Suzanne awaited him, one hand on the chute, the only exit they had, they both knew.
Suzanne gestured to Leon's shoulders, far too wide to fit. He raised his arms above his head, and he nodded assent after reviewing the opening a minute.
Suzanne picked up the simple chair beside the bed closest to the chute, stood up on it as quietly she could. Leon moved behind her, ready to be nimble once she opened the hatch.
Suzanne Devereaux took a silent, but deep breath & looked at Leon. Leon smiled and nodded, patting her butt gently.
It made her smile, that familiarity.
She pulled the handle down slowly, felt the air move around her, felt Leon's butt caress turn into a push to action. Head first, Suzanne made it into the hatch, and she began the relatively slow fall through the tube.
She saw the bottom approach, knew it would be full of soft cotton, if somewhat dirty.
She was wondering how Leon was doing.
From beyond her feet she heard a quiet cackle.
She smiled as she made her soft landing in the huge plastic tub.
She rolled to one side to make room for Leon.
He was still cackling a little when he landed beside her.
She whispered because they were not out of danger. "What's so funny?"
He slowed his cackling down to a lewd smile.
"You got real nice undies! A lak dem a *lot*!"
Suzanne Devereaux hit Leon Freedman on the head with a dirty pillow case.
