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Darcy felt claustrophobic even though she’d lived for what seemed like eons in a small facility on the moon. The holding cell was tiny, about as wide as she was tall and twice as long. The walls were cement blocks painted a sickly green, with a small stainless steel sink and toilet. The only window was a small one in the metal door. The door had a narrow slot, probably for food trays, she remembered from some movie or other.
Hleo had gloated to her that these people were not above torturing prisoners. It hadn’t seemed that significant when he said it, but now, added to her helplessness and lack of awareness of her situation, she could feel fear surging in her heart.
She hadn’t behaved well in that interrogation, but then she hadn’t anticipated being so frightened. The questioners seemed to prefer intimidation to information, as if putting her under duress would yield better answers.
That should not have bothered her, but it had. She had grown up in the middle of all sorts of conflict, only no one back home would have deliberately tried to humiliate her. Here they had forced her to trade her beloved flight suit for a rough orange prisoner uniform, something unthinkable in her former life.
She had been without human contact for a long time. Now, to be suddenly imprisoned as a captive by large, rude, strangely behaving people was extremely upsetting. She was a chief’s daughter! This was shameful.
Right now, the air in the little cell was stale and dank, the single overhead light dim. On the point of panic, she mashed the intercom button and asked in a shaky voice to please have a little air. In a barely understandable accent, a rough voice answered.
"Jes' a minit."
She waited on the hard bunk, her hands clasped between her knees, concentrating on breathing slowly.
A few minutes later, there was a buzz and a click as the door swung open, and two more huge armed persons escorted her down a hallway. Like all the others, they too moved as if in slow motion. After a short walk down a hall and several turns, they stopped, and one unlocked a door and motioned her through.
“Thirty minutes,” the taller of them growled.
Darcy found herself in a paved yard between two wings of the building she'd been in. Grateful almost to tears for the air and light, she automatically looked up at the sky. There was a clunk behind her as the door was closed.
Outside! Alone! True, the end of the breezeway was closed off by a stout chain link fence nearly three times her height, and there were several nasty looking coils of razor wire across the top of it. But she could breathe!
Beyond the chain link was what looked like a residential street, with rows of large houses facing each other across a wide grass median. Far down the street, a building with a cross on top could be seen. Beyond loomed a mountain, and above it all was the sky, a deepening blue.
"This must be a military base," she guessed.
She paced back and forth, surreptitiously checking the windows in the two facing wings to see who was looking her way—no one, apparently. After all, it was still Sunday, although it felt as if days had passed.
She paced and swung her arms and did some hamstring stretches. There was no way Darcy could return to that cell and undergo more interrogation, or worse. While continuing to pace and stretch she studied her surroundings. There were still no faces in the windows. An idea began to emerge from the confused clutter of her mind.
Well, what's the worst that could happen? she thought.
From a corner near the door, she studied the expanse of chain link opposite. Check the windows again—still no faces anywhere.
Taking two deep breaths she began running diagonally towards the fence at the other end. About two thirds of the way across, she took several long steps and jumped with all her strength at a second story window ledge. Landing on it just about right, legs bent, she pushed off hard at an up angle. Clearing the razor wire by a bare handspan, she flipped over in midair and fell on the opposite side, rolling over twice.
Nothing felt broken. Without checking for scrapes and abrasions, she took off running toward the houses across the street. There were no sirens or cries of alarm from behind her. There were no cars on the street.
She made it into the alley between the left row of houses and a tall fence that must be the edge of the military base. It ran along the edge of a steep mountain canyon. Slowing to a quick trot, she passed six or eight houses until she noticed one with laundry hanging near the back fence. Three minutes behind a small shed provided her with a slightly large pair of blue shorts and a yellow t-shirt. Leaving the orange prisoner suit behind a bush, she resumed running down the alley toward the mountain.
So far, Darcy had acted on instinct. She needed a plan. Most of all, she needed peace and quiet and time to think. Once they discovered she’d escaped, these men would return to the area near the Delbosque family, so she couldn’t go there. There was only one person on the entire planet she knew who might be able to help her: Luisa, their daughter, who was at Sul Ross State University.
But how can I get to her? she wondered.
Clearly, right was uphill, and left was downhill. The mountain descended to a valley on her left. The sun had dropped behind the mountain ahead. That would be west. She needed to go back the opposite way—east. But to get east she had to start by going to her left, south, paralleling the mountain. Surely that’s where the main roads would be, in the valley. Roads meant transportation.
She jogged down the fence behind the big houses. There was a road leaving the base ahead to her left. Would there be a guard there to stop her? At a cross street, she turned left and jogged off base, giving a little wave to the guard in the booth. The guard waved back.
The road became a major commercial street, with considerable traffic. She cut over two blocks and continued in the same direction on a residential street. At one intersection she found a ball cap in the street by the curb. She picked it up, beat the dust out of it, and put it on, tucking her hair up underneath. It said “Miners” in blue letters. She resumed running.
Still no sirens, no helicopters, no signs of alarm. An hour or so brought her to what was obviously a major highway, with a huge overpass over the intersection visible ahead. That looked promising.
Darcy turned left, which should be east, and kept jogging.
Finally, a highway sign high overhead gave her the best news she could have asked for: "IH 10, Dallas, San Antonio." It was just like MapQuest said! Wouldn't they be amazed to know they had had a customer who once lived on the moon?
Running as fast as possible, Darcy smiled. After being imprisoned in a small room, sprinting in the open air felt wonderful.
