Desperate Times



Scene Title Desperate Times
Synopsis Edward Ray makes a desperate decision.
Date January 23, 2012

Moab Federal Penitentiary

Moab, Utah

The click of a metal door unlocking echoes through the confined, concrete-walled space.

As the door opens, lights come on in the gray-walled cell, and a prison doctor in a white coat carrying a fluid IV tube, syringe, and towel walks into the eight by ten cell. Behind him, a security guard leisurely slouches against the door frame, hand on his taser. "How long's this gonna take?" The guard asks, and the doctor glances over his shoulder with one brow raised.

"Thirty minutes, tops?" There's a squint from the doctor. "Why, do you literally have anywhere else to be?" Rolling his eyes, the guard leans away from the door frame and paces out into the hall.

"Let me know if your turnip of a patient makes any sudden moves." The guard's voice gets a little more distant as he paces down the hall, swinging a ring of keys around on one finger idly. The doctor, frustrated, turns back to where the comatose form of Edward Ray lies on his cot, a piece of tape over his IV shunt, eyes unfocused and staring vacantly at the ceiling. The doctor settles down on the side of the bed, pulling out the plastic tubing while reaching up to replace the old IV bag from its stand with a new, full bag. As he does, he fails to feel the small hand subtly grabbing the syringe from the towel on his lap. Edward Ray's expressive blue eyes flick to the doctor, and he mouths, I'm sorry before lunging up and sticking the empty syringe in the doctor's neck. He depresses the plunger, pumping air into the doctor's veins, while at the same time clapping a hand over his mouth. Edward drags the doctor, legs kicking, to the floor and off of the bed.

The IV stand wobbles, and Edward extends a leg to brace it and keep it from falling. Shoes squeak on concrete, and the doctor lets out a few panicked gasps before the arterial air embolism brings about a stroke. When the doctor collapses to the ground, convulsing, the security guard asks from the distance. "Hey, did you see Case out in the yard the other day? I swear to god that guy's got some bolts lose. He kept trying to tell Petrelli and Rickham that he was a president too! Can you fucking believe that guy?"

Edward glances to the door, watching, waiting, and then quietly pulls a rolled piece of paper that he has worked into a shiv from the waistband of his loose pants. Stalking away from the now dead doctor, Edward presses up behind the door and curls the shiv against his palm. He can hear footsteps coming back over. "Hey? Look… you wanna work, fine, but this graveyard shift is fucking boring. The least you could do is— " When the guard gets into the doorway, Edward kicks the door out and smashes the guard in the temple. He then scrambles out, leaping up and grabbing the guard by the hair and dragging him to the ground. Repeatedly, Edward begins stabbing the guard in the neck and face, blood spattering up against the shiv-wielding man, running down his brow and nose.

An alarm sounds almost immediately when the security cameras spot Edward's attack. Grabbing the key ring, Edward rushes over to the cells adjacent to his and begins to open them one by one with a key override. As the doors open, Edward calls out, "It's a prison break!" It isn't.

As prisoners begin to rise from their bunks and storm out into the hall, Edward picks up the taser and heads down the curving hall of Red-Level. Alarms are blaring, doors are opening, and security response teams are already on their way. Hurriedly, Edward counts down the cells one by one until he reaches the end of the hall. He can see through the reinforced glass of the security doors an armored response team moving into position. Quickly, he picks the right key to unlock a specific, important door.

When the door opens, the prisoner kept in the lightless condition of Red Level detention cells looks up from within. Only a thin sliver of emergency lighting illuminates their eyes, and Edward's paler blue ones are hard to see, backlit as he is.

"Get up," Edward says flatly, "you've got work to do."

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