Reid goes slowly, the only speed he has. The further he climbs it seems, the rougher the wall and the more frequent the available perches or jutting support structure, so he has no need to scramble for holds any longer.
His worst enemy is weakness. Days without food, feast or famine when it comes to water and very little rest while driving his body to its limits have taken a terrible toll on him. His knees tremble every time he shifts positions, muscles spasming as he tries to give each set some rest by supporting his weight on his arms or his thighs. But the problem remains that none of them have energy to spare and doing so offers little in the way of relief.
Reid is so tired he is no longer thinking as he climbs, but allowing his body to move and his hands and feet to find holds while the rest of him is fully absorbed in his pain. He slides one foot out to a protruding chunk of rock, opposite hand already letting go of his grip and moving on when his conscious mind finally pays attention. Something is wrong but he is too late to do anything about it. The thin ledge lets go, dropping out from under him. Reid cries out in panic, grasping for the handhold again as unexpected gravity pulls him in the direction in which he has shifted all his weight.
His fingers slide over the rebar he used as an anchor, slip free, sweat making his hold impossible. Reid feels himself falling, knows it is over even as his desperate hand finds a splintered lip of wood and latches on.
Tears spring forth, spilling over his filthy cheeks as pain screams in his hand but his fingers refuse to let go, free foot now lifting and scraping the wall, searching for something, anything to support it. Reid’s sneaker hits a crack, hooks in it and he is stable once again.
He weeps then, hugging the stone wall, letting his fear out until calm returns. He snuffles back mucus and looks up.
He can hear them clearly, now. Not what they are saying specifically, the echo is too great, muffling their exact words. But the meaning is clear. Marcus and Leila and Cole and Milo. Screaming at each other. There can only be one reason for that.
Marcus. Somehow he is preventing them from rescuing Reid. He knows it, can feel it. And vows when he makes it up there Marcus will pay for it.
Reid resumes his climb, blocking out the shouts, focusing on going up and staying alive doing it. He falls into a bit of a rhythm, half-dazed by it, not wanting to tumble into the same lack of attention that almost threw him to the ground, but unable to act without the veneer of detachment. The pain in his hands is almost welcome now, as it’s the only thing left keeping him focused on what he is doing.
Reid flinches and utters a soft shriek when something hits the top of his head. He looks up with relief so strong it makes him emotional all over again. The bottom of the cage. He has run into the grate at the bottom of the cage.
Reid looks around, trying to figure out what to do next. He considers the gap between the elevator and the wall, but it’s too narrow. He calls out, unable to make more than noise, brain not allowing words to form. Still, maybe they will hear him? But they are still shouting and he has so little energy left to put into a call for help.
Reid hangs his head, wanting to quit. So close, but there is no way. He hears Marcus’s voice, clearly for the first time.
“He’s probably dead by now anyway.”
He thanks Marcus for the gift of anger. It fires Reid up. He has to prove the asshole wrong. Has to. Especially when the others start yelling at Marcus again, their individual words lost in their steady barrage but their faith in his survival loud and clear.
Reid looks at the bottom of the cage again and sees something he hadn’t noticed before. The bottom isn’t one continuous piece, but a sheet with an added section welded in the middle. Even better, he sees a hinge.
Reid tries to get a closer look but it is behind him. Trying to see over his shoulder is throwing him off his delicate balance.
Knowing he can’t stay there any longer, Reid reaches above him and grabs onto the grated floor. It takes him a bit to muster the courage to let his weight fall on only his damaged hands, but he finally forces himself to, both sets of fingers wound in the rusting metal.
Reid can’t even cry out, his throat seized by the agony he is feeling. He makes his way, hand over screaming hand, to the hinge. Not just a hinge after all, but a latch, only accessible from the bottom of the cage. It was behind him when he hung there earlier. He hadn’t seen it and neither had the others, obviously.
In order to unhook it, he has to let go with one hand. His tortured mind flinches from the very thought. But it’s what he has to do to survive and in the end his stubbornness and the remaining anger at Marcus wins.
He lets his weight fall on his left hand, using his dominant right to scrabble at the latch but it is old and rusty and won’t budge. He chokes on a sob of frustration as he tries and fidgets and yanks on it. Reid leaves it so long that he feels his fingers slipping and has to jerk his right arm back and take hold again or fall.
He gathers up his nerve and tries again, this time using his left to manipulate the thick metal hook, working it back and forth as his whole body sways over the long drop. Again he almost leaves it too long, this time because just as his right hand is about to give out, the hook squeals a soft protest and loosens.
Reid grabs on to the grate with his left hand again, panting and soaked in sweat, jaw aching from grinding his teeth. One more time, one last try, it’s all he has in him. Reid screws his eyes shut for a second, pictures himself safe and sound and standing on solid ground before opening his eyes and lunging for the hook.
It sings a metal song as the hatch swings down and away from him, silent but for a whoosh of air as it sways its way to rest.
He is so overcome with relief he forgets he has to get inside it now. Not for long, but just long enough to bring his confidence back.
Reid jumps one hand inside the hole. The other follows. That’s when he realizes he has no strength left to pull himself up. Again he cries out for help but the shouting is so loud his weak voice, trapped under the steel cage, has no volume.
It can’t come to this. He can’t die this close to safety. Reid grunts and pulls, his feet kicking out as though that will help. One toe catches the edge of the open hatch door and he is suddenly rising. Reid hooks his other foot in the mesh and pushes. His legs have had just enough rest that he is able to put in one last massive effort and propel himself up and into the elevator.
Reid lies there, catching his breath, legs dangling over the hole at the lip, face pressed to the cold steel. He is confused as the shouting he’s been hearing travels, first close by then farther away, as if the argument has a life of its own. As Reid is about to pull himself the rest of the way out, a shadow falls over him and he looks up.
Marcus stands in the doorway of the cage, his back to Reid.
“And I said no!” He has something in his hand. Reid notices the box that controls the buttons is damaged, part of it missing. So that’s how he kept them from coming after Reid.
“He needs us!” Leila is crying, Reid can hear her tears. “Please, Marcus, we have to go after him.”
“You son of a bitch.” Milo. “You want him to die.”
“I’m telling you, he’s probably dead already.” Reid eases himself to his feet, doing his best to move quietly. There is murder in his heart, fury so powerful his vision shifts slightly and it is suddenly as though he is looking at Marcus like food. Reid’s anger drops out of him instantly when he recognizes it, his fear an electric shock that snaps him out of that cold and deadly rage.
Still, his anger won’t allow him not to do something. Reid rises behind Marcus and places both injured hands on his back, shoving as hard as he can. Marcus stumbles forward as though Reid used much stronger force, and spins, staring with his mouth open.
“Reid!” Leila rushes at him, is hugging him while Milo, Cole and Alex crowd around him. The rest of the kids look so relieved Reid’s remaining anger leaves him, leaving behind only cold hate.
He’ll never do anything for Marcus again, or trust him even for a heartbeat. In fact, first chance he gets, Reid plans to make sure Marcus dies a horrible death.
And from the fear on Marcus’s face, he knows it.
***