A pure natural darkness.

The sky, unblemished by the smog of civilization, rests at peace…

Gently illuminated by unobstructed stars.

The night winds coo gently, a soft reassuring whisper…

Carefully parting the blades of low-lying desert grass… like a ballet dancer tiptoeing so carefully as to not leave a trace…

A tumbleweed listlessly ambles along the highway…

…

……

This perfect moment.

…

IS FLOODED WITH LIGHTS!

A SCREAMING SIREN!

A HALF-DOZEN COP CARS FLASH RED-AND-BLUE AS THEIR MECHANICAL SCREECHES PIERCE THE SILENCE!

ABOVE THEM A WHIRRING TYPHOON OF NOISE! A HELICOPTER! BARKING ORDERS FROM ABOVE!

The five-oh stream down the highway in hot pursuit of… something!

…

Until their sirens get further and further away…

A distant echo.

A faint memory.

Then.

Back to silence.

…

Swip.

From the low grass…

An obscured creature creeps along the underbrush…

Beyond the highway…

The creature’s breaths struggle… His hand presses against his heaving chest as he struggles at the brink of his body’s capacity to move…

It’s clear this one’s been running.

He’s been running for a long, long time.

…

As he sprints past the highway, the endless grass behind him fades into concrete and white lines.

And eventually, the only thing obstructing the creature’s forward-path.

Is a chain link fence.

…

The figure bends over…

The slight shift in his center of gravity invites his legs to collapse out from under him.

He clings to the gate, desperate to keep his footing.

If he gives into the ground now, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to get back up…

…

A dangling security light sways in the zephyrs of the night…

The dark creature is briefly illuminated.

Sporting a baggy orange jumpsuit…

He briefly shields his face, nearly blinded as the light streams through the broken spectacles resting crookedly upon his nose.

…Eventually, his hand drops down from his face, down by his side and he doubles over… Even a battle with something as weightless as a flickering light is too heavy for this man’s broken form to withstand…

The harder he tries to regain his breath, the more lungs seem desperate to spill, to leap from his chest and call it quits…

To abandon him.

Just as he was abandoned b-

…

What’s that?

The distant roar of an engine.

The moment he hears it, his body reflexively stops struggling to breathe.

In a flash, his muscles freeze. His body tightens against the fence.

He is calm.

He is still.

…

Is it getting closer?

The distant hum..

…

Wanes.

And eventually, it is silent once more.

…

A breath of relief.

Before he turns back to the fence.

And lets his fingers curl along its metal links.

Gently.

Oh so gently.

His feet perch.

Careful not to make a sound.

The metal curls and shifts underneath his meager weight…

But it does not make a decibel of sound more than absolutely necessary…

For the man to climb up…

Up…

To the top.

…

Two breaths.

As he stares at…

Three parallel lines of barbed wire at the fence’s top…

…

A deep breath.

The rail-thin figure examines the width of his arm…

Then gauges the distance between the wires…

…

No less than six inches.

No more than nine.

A tight fit.

…

The figure presses his weight against the chain link… Slowly increasing the pressure, as to not crush the metal so quickly that it creaks under his movement.

Then, he extends his leg backward.

And carefully rotates it throoooooough the air…

Throooooooough the gap in the barbed wire…

…

Phew.

One leg through.

…

Committed now.

…

He gently shifts the grip he has on the top of the fence…

Deftly swings the other leg through the gap…

…

And now, he leans forward… His lanky middle currently sandwiched between barbed wire…

But, if he can juuuuuust…

Let go of the fence.

For a split-second.

Pull his hands through the gap.

In a half of a split-second.

Then grab the fence before gravity claims him from the top of the fence.

He’s home-free.

…

Deep br-

LIGHTS! LIGHTS ABOVE HIM!

His hands flummox nervously! Reflexively, he lets go!

His body falls backward through the barbed wire…

His hands panickly swipe through the air!


He grabs the fence just a foot before his body is broken on the concrete below!

An echoing metallic rattle betrays his presence!

He quickly sidesteps into the darkness beside one of the buildings to avoid the light!

…

Is he caught?

Is this it?

…

……

Click.

The lights deactivate.

And the darkness returns.

…

No one’s coming?

Were the lights motion-sensored?

Is anyone still pursuing him?

…He’s not sure.

…

His hand traces along the side of a familiar building.

One he’s visited many, many times

He creeps along the wall.

Until he reaches a door.

…

He drops to one knee.

Scooping off… a worn, dusty sneaker.

…He tears off the sole.

…

In the shoe?

A small, golden key.

His long, desperate breath betrays a plea to Fate for mercy, as he slides the key up to the door.

Please let the locks remain unchanged…

…

He inserts the k-

FWIP! The door slides open.

…Without even using the key.

…

A trap?

…

That moment, another distant screech.

Sirens?

…

No choice.

In we go.

…

He enters into…

A storage-unit.

And a “home”.

A lawn chair.

A mini-fridge.

A crib.

A small infant.

Sleeping peacefully.

…

The figure looms over the crib.

…Waving two fingers at the babe.

“I made it.” He whispers.

“I’m h-”

LIGHTS! Hanging Christmas lights illuminate above him!

The figure spins around…

…

Standing in the doorway.

Nonchalantly working a toothbrush around his gums.

Is this storage-unit home’s owner/resident.

Mark Flynn.

…

He spits onto the floor.

As he squints at the near-feral fugitive figure…

…

Suddenly.

Recognition!

“Hey!”

“Irwin!”

…

Followed by an impatient sneer.

“Where the HELL have you been?!?”