Source...
One bizarre week lying against the side wall in that dark corridor at ICO South came to a close.
Amos now occupied an eighty square foot enclosed room. The living quarters was tiny. A small cot. Stark gray, familiar walls. A latrine stood against the opposite wall with one roll of toilet tissue visible in a glass retrieval system. A square cut-out in the steel door that housed the means for receiving his meals.
He stared daily into a silver oblong, unframed object resembling a mirror. Am I incarcerated? If so, for how long? Amos pondered.
No armoire to house his belongings. But then, he didn't recall traveling with any. He did, however, discover a small case partially exposed underneath the bed. Inside arranged neatly lay an orange jumpsuit, a pair of black and white oxfords, and one pair of white socks. The straight jacket was no longer part of his attire. Was another means of restraint coming?
Still, he couldn't reconcile the last day of his former life. Minding my own business while patrolling Area 91. The encounter didn't make sense. He rubbed his chest where the silver coin once rested for over ten years.
He lay on his right side many nights staring at another wall until finally drifting into deep, disturbing episodes of sleep.
Several claps of continuous thunder woke Amos one morning. He rose slowly and shuffled toward the window, reinforced with thick gray vertical and horizontal bars. He overlooked them and embraced the storms. They stirred in him scenes from decades ago; him running wild in the rain. He'd glance up to the cold drops of water landing on his tongue.
Soothing, faint voices penetrated his thoughts and jerked him back to his childhood. During this time at the new facility he surmised was ICO North, if the orderlies were truthful, swaths of time went missing. Struggled as he might, he couldn't recall his employee number. Memories of loved ones faded in and out leaving undecipherable warnings. All but one; his eldest sister's face remained constant and haunting.
From the other side, the day dawned dark and foreboding. Amos stood transfixed, staring out into the swirling mix of cold rain and hail.
Immediately and without warning, a large rock blasted through the pane and landed on the floor. Startled, Amos retreated quickly behind the window. Tied to the rock was a piece of white paper, secured in place by a knotted rope.
Amos stared transfixed at the paper before kneeling. He inched closer, then paused to glance out the window, but noticed no one. Untying the knot, the handwritten note merely stated, "stop eating the food if you want to live."
Shivering not from the cold, Amos remembered eating dinner the night before. Now the urge to vomit rose. He slid down to the floor and jerked a sharp breath. If he didn't eat, he'd die. And dying wasn't in his immediate plans, regardless that he didn't know what his plans were, other than surviving in that unfamiliar place known as ICO North.
One thing Amos did know. He'd violated some unknown law that landed him in that place. He'd lost his janitor position. And, according to the orderly named Matchov, he was no longer under the protection of a silver coin as it was deactivated.
His lifeline. His key to Clean Living. Even if he hadn't lived up to ICO's code of ethics for advancement in society. And the code strictly forbade what he now realized was his lifeline to sanity; what he craved insatiably.
A Smoke.
Now, Part 5:
Slumped against the wall on the concrete floor beneath the window, minutes passed before Amos grabbed his head and jerked it down into the palm of his hands, rocking back and forth. The room inched closer as his head throbbed. Am I poisoned by the food? The thought sickened him further. But how did the person who threw the rock know?
To die in this manner alone was the furthest plan he had for his future when offered a position at ICO. He suspected his family was the instigator behind the offer since they didn't believe he possessed the initiative to care for himself. Now, hHis imagined bellyache and erratic thoughts concerning the food were interrupted by a slightly familiar voice.
"Amos," the voice whispered loud enough several times through the window.
He rose and moved closer to the thin curtain. Standing against the edge of the window dressed in dark gray tactical gear, an advanced breathing apparatus, and cap to disguise himself from the security cameras, stood a figure, the shape of which resembled a tall male.
Amos kept quiet. The voice called out again, "Amos, it's me, Julius." A moment passed, then he whispered, "Julius Hempfort."
Amos heaved a heavy, relieved breath. He grasped the cold bars and leaned his face against them. Rain beat down against the bars, but through the swirling storm, he knew the person to be true. It was his youngest sister's husband. His brother-in-law. The only person besides Annetta and his friend, Roy Watson, who believed in him and disbelieved the ICO's influence.
"Back away from the window and anchor yourself under the bed," Julius ordered.
Amos didn't understand the plan, but rushed toward the far side of the room. A second of thanks for the weight he'd lost through his ordeal as he inched under the bed and secured his body against the wall, then wrapped his face with the bedsheet and placed the pillow on top.
The next moment, a medium-sized explosion rocked the room. Not powerful enough to cause damage to the entire complex, but sufficient to break through a concrete wall. Rocks and debris tumbled inward and covered the concrete floor.
Amos heard sirens blast throughout the facility as alarms were triggered throughout the ICO Unit. Within seconds, Amos felt the pressure of the bed frame lift from his body as Julius raised the bed and helped lift him up.
They hugged briefly. No time to explain.
The only thing Amos knew was that help had arrived. He'd be leaving this place whose intention was to poison him; for some unknown reason. He was merely a low level janitor from ICO South. The same as Roy from another facility. What threat were we? The question crossed his mind briefly.
Immediately, the door to his room swung open.
Julius stared at Amos, then attempted to explain since no one entered. "The blast must have activated the water system which triggered the fire alarms. We can't chance going out through the hallway, else risk being detected. Annetta specifically ordered me to extract you through the blasted wall."
Suddenly, a flurry of activity crammed into the hallway reacting to the alarms. Julius peeked outside the room, then slammed the door, grabbed Amos by the shoulder, turned toward the window, and led him carefully through the small hole.
Once outside, Julius retrieved his backpack and weapon. Amos tried his best to keep pace with the younger man as they both fled.
Hugging the back of the building two driveways over and dodging between their connected alleys, the two managed to escape detection from the security cameras. All the while, rain poured as lightning and thunder gave an indication the storm had intensified.
Around the next corner at the edge of an alleyway stood a slight figure whose face he knew as the only family member who cared about his well-being. He rushed to Annetta and embraced her.
"No time, brother. The ICO North Unit security officers have been alerted," Annetta quickly explained. "This way," she pointed, out of breath.
They managed to maneuver between the group of buildings that comprised the Unit. At its edge, chain linked fencing surrounded the compound. Amos watched in awe as the small, slim Annette helped Julius plant a device. They moved to the side while the explosive ripped open the fence.
They were free, but not for long if they didn't move quickly.
Once outside the unit, Julius beckoned and guided them toward a large clump of brush beyond the unit's boundary lines. They tore away at small branches, then lifted the cover that hid a vehicle.
Just as Amos watched in sickening horror as an emergency vehicle forcefully brought him to the ICO North Unit, he now watched in gleeful anticipation as Julius' car sped away, rescuing him from that research unethical hospital he now believed it to be. He just needed solid evidence as proof.
As soon as Julius could, he exited the main highway.
Annetta turned to Amos. He hadn't spoken since the breakout. She knew he had numerous questions by the confused look he returned her. But knowing her older brother, he didn't know what to ask. It had been three years since her last lukewarm visit. She hoped that Amos didn't harbor any distrust or resentment for her not outright disowning Cunnella and the rest of her family and speaking up for him.
The fact was that she didn't know enough about ICO to take sides. It surprised her when he spoke. "How did you know I was being held at this facility? And why did you risk your life to save me?" he queried in a hesitant voice.
She began to explain what she and her husband were able to uncover.
"Roy Watson, your friend, got word to us through code. This past five years, all citizens are being monitored and our conversation recorded. I managed to secure a position at ICO North under the guise of switching my career choice to research. With my nursing degree and one in medicine, I was immediately accepted. I later discovered it wasn't me, but our dear sister, Cunnelda Treydor, the ICO's mouthpiece."
"The Interdisciplinary Consortium Orbit must be compensating her royalty for the positive propaganda she spreads on their behalf. The survival of the richest in play, I suppose. It's much you're willing to lower your ethics to achieve that level was my breaking point. I'd not target my family, friends, or neighbors for Versalius research. At least that's what the propaganda embraces."
Annetta continued with a noticeable sneer on her lip and contempt in her voice.
"That's how I gained the schematics to the complex and with Roy's assistance. As far as we can tell, the ICO isn't an institution created for the "good of the people or to promote their welfare." It's like a machine spewing out a infectious disease. Their cover is "humanity's savior through research". But we have yet to learn of anyone being saved by "the cult", as you, dear brother, once labeled it. It's a hostile takeover of a society by mind control. So gradual, society can't see through the deceit. That's when I realized you were right."
Amos sat razor stiff and listened intently. All that, even he hadn't unraveled. But Annetta was always intelligent, he remembered, half-smiling. Now it all made sense why Cunnelda and her spouse embraced the ICO. Her thirst for wealth blinded her to the malicious machinations of that organization. Betraying one's family was a small issue when one considers the gains to be made in society, he once overheard her say.
That when he decided to distance himself from the family celebrations she hosted.
Amos stared quietly at his little sister. He was under the impression that she admired Cunnelda and regarded her as a mentor. He often wondered whether Annetta possessed an independent mind with the ability to engage in critical thinking where the ICO was concerned.
He remembered those few conversations with Annetta. He had no idea his words took root, and she actually considered this point of view. But he couldn't convince Cunnelda and the others who shunned him for not worshiping their society's Wealth Accumulation Value Echelon scheme, referred to as the WAVE.
But then, Annetta had Julius as a focused, level-minded influence. He participated in the armed forces before the ICO came to town fifty years ago. That's when the subtle changes occurred. First, disband the military forces, then dismantle the intelligence agency before setting up their self-proclaimed governing body.
He lay his head back as Julius now explained his experiences from a military perspective.
Those who listened with discerning analyses were under the watchful eye of ICO's Security Holding Units. Now, it all made sense. The implication was explicit. Somehow, ICO received a tip that I was a dissenter. An antagonist, spreading ill-will against the organization. A narrow face and pointed nose he'd come to hate over the years of living with her in their household came into focus as who would have supplied his name.
A small sensation at the back of his neck rose steadily up toward the back of his skull. But it was the cool rain's effect that his parents now crossed his thoughts during his escape.
Amos jerked his head toward Annetta. "Have you heard from mom and dad?"
Annetta didn't answer. Instead, she stared out the passenger window. The storm had eased. She spotted flames erupting from the farthest city manufacturing plant facing west. The closer they got, the more intense the odor.
Amos took the silence to mean the unthinkable. He'd clung to the slender thread that was the fragment of life hoping he'd live to see his parents again.
His only desire had gradually faded in the years he wasn't allowed to visit them in that ICO Unit in the north. The one all citizens referred to as the "mysterious clinic". Sensing this, a strange pain rose in his throat. He turned and stared out the opposite window, not asking nor caring where they were headed.
[to be continued]
18 December 2024, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2590: fragment of life
28 January 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2630: implication
4 february 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2637: mysterious clinic
20 february 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2653: survival of the richest
If you'd like to return to the beginning of my series, here are the previous parts:
SOURCES:
a) JustClickindiva's Footer created in Canva utilizing its free background and images used with permission from discord admins.
b) Unless otherwise noted, all photos taken by me with my (i) Samsung Galaxy 10" Tablet, (ii) Samsung Phone, & (iii) FUJI FinePix S3380 - 14 Mega Pixels Digital Camera
c) Purple Butterfly part of purchased set of Spiritual Clip Art for my Personal Use
d) All Community logos, banners, page dividers used with permission of Discord Channel admins.
e) Ladies of Hive banner used with permission of and in accordance with the admin's guidelines
f) Thumbnail Image created by me in Canva.
g) "Flames." What is Apophysis 2.09. https://flam3.com/
1 What is Stable Diffusion? StarryAI.Com. Online at: https://starryai.com/stable-diffusion
