The Collector

Somehow, without even revealing his plan, Jet noticed the atmosphere in the room lift. All eyes turned expectantly towards him and Dr Hawes standing just behind him, and both Party and Red had even managed to summon slight smiles. It wasn’t a surprise to him. Red was probably simply proud of him and as for the others, there was an assumption in the small group, a long held assumption, that when an idea was needed - really needed - then they would turn to Jet. They all had their strengths and weaknesses. Party was a born leader, bold and sassy but whilst careful, he could often be reckless with his own safety. Ghoul was deeply loyal and caring, but stubborn and prone to emotional outbursts and exaggeration. Kobra was determined and fiercely protective but a self-confessed hothead who, at times, could be a little childish.

Jet was always the man with the plan. Whilst all were brave, intelligent and more than capable of dreaming up inventive ideas, Jet was the one who all eyes turned to in a crisis. Able to keep a cool, dispassionate head Jet was a lateral and imaginative thinker. Not as naturally outgoing as the others, he liked his own space. It had been part of the reason why, when they all first met up - introduced by Dr Death Defying - he took some time to settle into the group. The other three had known each other for years and were either family or as good as; it had made him feel as if he were an outsider intruding. Not that anyone had treated him that way, it was just in his nature. Generally cheerful, Jet would do anything for his friends and was someone who you wanted on your side. If crossed, Jet could be ruthless, but despite this was also the one of the four that was least comfortable with killing.

“What have you got?” Party’s asked as he slipped his boots back on before reaching for his jacket.

His eyes brightened at the news that Jet had a plan to escape. Whatever it was, it was bound to be better than trying to gun down three draculoid squads with, not only limited firepower, but also limited manpower. Yes, there were seven of them in all, but neither of the doctors were used to weapons, let alone firing them and Ghoul was injured and struggling even to sit up.

“Well,” he began, only to stop immediately as he caught sight of Korse. “Have you dealt with his wire?” He asked looking at the sea of faces staring at him.
“Yeah,” Kobra replied with a smirk. “Fire away.”
“You’re sure he only had one?” Jet asked with a cautious frown.

Kobra offered an expression that was both thoughtful and uncertain.

“I can’t be one hundred percent,” he replied with a shrug.

Jet nodded his understanding; the success of the plan relied upon absolute secrecy. Grabbing the pencil from Ghoul’s chart he scribbled a quick line that read:

Say you’re pretty sure, you checked everywhere. I’ll announce a fake plan and write the real one down.

Reading quickly, Kobra nodded.

“No, strike that,” Kobra began again. “I checked everywhere and everything. There was definitely only one. There’s only one place I didn’t check and if it’s up there... well it would explain a lot!”

Jet chuckled lightly at Kobra’s enthusiastic and highly personalised response. He continued to laugh at Red’s response too.

“Gross!” She scolded, reaching up to cuff the back of his head with a cupped hand.
“Okay,” Jet continued. “I guess we’re clear. We have one ace up our sleeves and that’s Korse. If they had no interest in getting him out alive they would have stormed in by now.”
“Agreed,” Party replied, intrigued as he watched Jet writing furiously as he spoke between sentences. “But we can’t use him as a shield, not for all of us.”
“We don’t have to,” Jet replied. “Only one of us has to. For instance, I go out using him as a shield, forcing all draculoids to either leave or be shot as I go. I can leave a safe corridor behind me for you all to escape and get to the car. We all have guns, so any stragglers that think they can trick us will get a nasty surprise.”
“Sounds dangerous to me,” Party frowned. He knew it was a fake plan but if it sounded too contrived any draculoids overhearing the conversation would struggle to believe it.
“And me,” Red added.
“It sounds suicidal to me,” Ghoul stared up in disbelief, having not seen the paper Jet had earlier held up.
“Has anyone got a better plan?” Jet asked, with a light shake of his head.

A bleak chorus of ‘no’ echoed around the room and Jet smiled as he finished writing.

“Then we wait for him to wake up,” he concluded.
“And we draw lots for who has to go out there,” Party insisted.

Jet saw an opening to give any eavesdropping Draculoids reason to believe the plan was doomed to fail.

“No, it has to be me,” he stated.
“Hell, no!” Party began only to be interrupted.
“I’m the only one not injured,” Jet cut in. “You and Ghoul are too weak and Kobra’s still limping.”

Red cleared her throat impatiently.

“I’m right here, you know,” she pouted.
“I know,” Jet smirked. “But I can’t ask a little girl to do this, can I?”
“I guess not,” she replied through gritted teeth, before silently mouthing. You are so dead!
“So, we wait for Korse to wake up,” Party repeated, smiling broadly at the exchange.

Keeping his laughter silent, Jet encouraged them all to crowd around Ghoul’s bed so that they could read his plan. Each reading at different speeds, their faces displayed a series of expressions that ranged through surprised, amused and impressed.


Plan
We’ll need the sheets from the bed. In the OR there are hundreds of capsules of pressurised hyponitrous oxide used to put people out for operations. They’re really small and under extremely high pressure, so you can fit about five in one hand. Each one is enough to put someone out for about four hours. If we set them off inside the vents, the gas will go through the A/C and if we use them all, there should be enough to knock everyone out who’s inside the hospital. Except us! If we cover the vents and doors in here with alcohol soaked sheets and our mouths and noses with soaked masks, any gas coming in here will be neutralised. We can then get to the cars easily.


Party took the pencil and scribbled at the bottom before handing the pencil to Jet.

How will we know it’s worked?

Passing the pencil to Dr Hawes, Jet smiled as he wrote.

It’s commonly known as laughing gas. When they have too much, we’ll hear them laughing. When they stop, they’re unconscious.

Party grinned; not only were they going to escape, but they were going to be entertained in the process! In large letters, he wrote:

GENIUS!!!

I’m hoping that if they heard the fake plan, more of them will come into the hospital to try to stop me. Especially if they think you’re all injured.

Jet added to the paper, earning an appreciative grin from Party. During the exchange, Dr Fielding had helped Ghoul from the bed and removed the sheets as quietly as possible. Turning a concerned eye toward the injured, pale and struggling Killjoy, she hastened to help him back onto the bare mattress. Noticing how ill he appeared, Party stepped forward, worried that the escape attempt would cause him too much distress.

“Party,” Fielding whispered, “he’ll be okay. It’s just the affects of the anaesthetic. He’s physically sound, he just needs to heal now, but he’ll get his strength back in a day or two.”

Party nodded gratefully; it made sense and he was relieved to hear that the prognosis was so optimistic. Smiling briefly at Ghoul and squeezing his hand, Party helped Fielding carry the bed linen to the OR before dousing it in clinical alcohol housed in several large bottles. Normally used as part of a makeshift sterilisation process, there was an abundant supply.

As they worked Dr Hawes and Jet, set up the capsules within the vents and a method of releasing the gas in batches of ten at a time. Enlisting the help of a fan to ensure that the gas stayed inside the vent rather than entering the room, they were ready within a matter of minutes.

Finding fourteen masks, they soaked them in the alcohol with the sheets before passing everyone two each. Placing both masks over their faces, Jet and Hawes showed the others what they needed to do without needing to utter a word. Finally, Jet showed them another hastily written note which read:

We’ll have to stay in here to open the capsules. Once it’s done we’ll knock on the door but don’t open it until you’re sure that every drac is out cold. It’s possible that we might be too. There are some wheelchairs in the room next to this one. We’ll need one for Ghoul anyway. Be careful that you don’t get drunk on breathing in the alcohol in the masks!

We will get out of here!


Everyone found themselves stifling a dark chuckle at the idea of getting drunk and perhaps forgetting to leave. Even considering their ability to shoot straight and even drive in a straight line once they reached the cars, but it was a chance they had to take.

Closing the door and covering all gaps in both doors and vents, the small group in the recovery room donned their masks - some frowning, some coughing at the overpowering smell. But all waited for the sound of laughter followed by silence. The tension in the room was palpable. It was a great plan in theory, but no one knew if it would work. There were many considerations. Would the gas be taken up into the air conditioning? Would the gas instead seep into the OR, overwhelming, possibly even killing Jet and Hawes. Would the gas manage to make it through the alcohol soaked sheets and masks? Would the gas disperse too thinly when it spread to the hospital? Would there be enough to disable the draculoids? When all possible failure points were considered, it seemed as though the best plan they had was risky at best. They could only wait.

It was Kobra who heard it first. After only a few minutes, distinct chuckling sounds were emerging from the far end of the corridor, loud enough to carry the length. No one in the recovery room knew how many draculoids were in the corridor, or even the hospital itself, but it seemed that the laughter was contagious and it was only a minute or two more before there was a cacophony of sound ringing through the hallway. Almost immediately, sounds of stumbling and random shots being fired followed by delighted whoops and increased laughter filled their ears.

Slowly, the noises tapered away to nothing and the sound of their own laboured breathing behind the masks was all they could hear. Only then did they hear a faint rapping on the adjoining door. Staggering, somewhat drunkenly, towards the door, giggling to himself as he weaved a zig zag pattern before opening it.

“I think it worked,” he slurred. “But I’m very drunk.”

Jet giggled and flopped a hand onto Party’s shoulder.

“Me too,” he hiccuped with a light chuckle.
“Breathing in the vapour goes straight to the lungs, brain and blood,” Fielding explained slowly as she swayed gently. “It bypasses the liver, so it keeps its potency.”
“This is how I’m getting drunk in future,” Ghoul giggled, snatching at invisible creatures floating in the air, all pain from his operation dulled and forgotten.

Fielding grinned broadly as she watched, fascinated by his attempt to catch whatever it was he could see.

“Of course,” she tipped her head and chuckled, “you’ve reacted more because of the anaesthetic. You’re going to have an incredible headache tomorrow!”
“That’s tomorrow.” He waved a hand lazily, dismissing the idea. “That’s days away,” he offered a lopsided grin.

Jet, reached to help Ghoul stand, both of them staggering and giggling as the pair almost fell.

“Come on, we’ve got to get out of here.”
“Wait... wait,” Hawes took a deep breath as he gathered his thoughts, pulling a small piece of paper from his pocket - a reminder of the next step. “We should switch to oxygen,” he continued.
“Aww,” Kobra frowned.
“There’s always someone who has to ruin the fun,” Red agreed, snaking her arms around Kobra’s waist.
“Come on,” Jet repeated. “We need to... um... yeah! We need to get to the car.”

Slowly, but as fast as he could coordinate himself, Hawes equipped first himself, then each of them with a hand-held oxygen tank and mask. The sudden switch to oxygen had a dramatic effect, making them feel alert and at the same time a little lightheaded - still drunk, but strangely awake.

“This is weird!” Party announced, uncertain how his mind could feel simultaneously dulled and alert.
“Let’s get out of here,” Jet instructed, trying his best to maintain a level head and still referring to notes made prior to inhaling the alcohol. “Watch out for dracs still conscious and don’t let them fire at the oxygen or we’ll all be ghosted. Let’s get a wheelchair for Ghoul.”
“I’m fine!” Ghoul grinned, hugging Jet as he continued to hold him upright.
“Yeah, now you are,” Jet grinned. “Because you can’t feel anything.”
“Well, okay,” Ghoul nodded, his movements deliberate but controlled by a clouded mind still. “Only if you promise to bowl me at any dracs we meet.”
“Deal!”

Jet chuckled, heading towards the door, followed by the rest of the group; Party stopping only to cast a frown at Korse.

“What about him?” He asked with disdain.
“What about him?” Jet replied with a shrug.
“Ah,” Party drew out the word, shaking his head. “Nothing. Let’s go.”

As they picked their way carefully through the hospital corridors, passing or stepping over several unconscious draculoids as they went, it seemed as though Korse probably had another microphone somewhere on his person. The sheer number of BLI lackeys suggested that if any were still outside, the numbers would be minimal. With each step, the oxygen continued to have a sobering effect on the Killjoys and doctors, making it easier for them to prepare for the final aspect of their daring escape plan.

Following Dr Hawes down to the underground parking lot, they were particularly careful, realising that the air conditioning probably didn’t extend to the lower levels. As they approached stealthily, they spotted one draculoid almost immediately but knew there was almost certainly more. Now able to safely remove their oxygen masks, the Killjoys, minus Ghoul, stepped forward, keeping to the shadows and scanning the area. Making out the now visible shadows of two more, they assigned one to each of them, with Red as their cover and additional eyes, should another appear. With terrifying precision, despite the effects of the alcohol still weighing on them, Party and Kobra dispatched the first two, with Jet felling the third within moments. Quickly scanning the area, they were about to head for the car before Red fell to her knees, and rolling forward, fired off a blast to the far right. Another white-clad draculoid crumpled to the floor with a pained gasp.

Party and Kobra continued to peer into the relative darkness of the parking lot for few moments more while Jet helped Red to her feet.

“Nice catch,” he grinned approvingly.
“Just saw movement out of the corner of my eye,” she replied with a smile.
“I think we’re clear now,” Party announced. “Good work, Red. I knew we kept you with us for a reason,” he added with a chuckle, pulling her towards himself for a brief hug.
“Don’t think you’re off the hook for the little girl comment before,” she warned, brushing his arms away with a smirk adorning her face.

Party grinned back; this was actually going to work.

“Let’s go,” he said heading toward the car.

Before opening the door, Party turned to speak to Fielding.

“We have somewhere we need to be,” he began. “You and Dr Hawes head to the address I gave you and wait for us there. We’ll meet you in a few days, okay?”
“Yeah,” Fielding nodded. “Be careful!”
“Party Poison,” he shrugged dramatically, whilst beaming a smile. “I’m always careful!”

Ghoul snorted his derision at the comment, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Thanks,” Party added with surprising sincerity. “I owe you.”

Pulling him into a quick embrace, Fielding gave him a kiss on the cheek before pulling away.

“We’ll see you soon.”

Helping Ghoul into the passenger seat, Jet folded the wheelchair before placing it in the trunk of the car. Once everyone had piled in, Party revved the engine and sped out of the parking lot, tyres screeching on the concrete floor as they pulled away. Finally free of BLI, but there was still so much to do.

Notes

Hey lovely readers! So what do you think of Jet’s plan? They still have to drive out, of course, but it’s got them this far :)

Hope you’re enjoying it. I managed to squeeze some writing time in as a treat to myself for finishing my uni essay a bit early :)

Take care, all

Sas xx