The following account was written by the traitor, Tom Hogg, during his third day of punishment.
Slept in an oversized air vent. I thought there might be a way out through here, but now I’m suspecting it was just set up as a trap. It’s conveniently large enough to crawl around in, there are cameras focussed on portions of the air vent, with strategically placed windows (hmm) and – here’s the clincher – IT’S NOT EVEN CONNECTED to the main ventilation system, which is up in the freaking ceiling.
I hope the laptop still works. That was me hitting it against the side of the vent in frustration.
OK, finally got out of there. Back in the corridors. Problem is, they’ve got no more distinguishing features than the air vents. I could have passed that camera there half a dozen times, for all I know.
This is different. There’s light up ahead. Going to check it out.
Damn. There’s a hall through there, with more crates, and there’s a guard carrying a shillelagh, pacing back and forth.
I can’t believe I just did that. Crept up behind the boxes, snatched the shillelagh out of the guard’s hands and cracked him over the head with it. He’s not moving, but he’s still breathing. I hope he’s not too badly hurt. He was only doing his job, after all.
Dam’t. Two corridors further, and I’ve found another dead body. Looks like he’s been stabbed. There’s a welding torch by his side. At least he looks peaceful. His eyes are closed.
Hours later. That was hectic.
After I left the dead guy, I heard the sound of a woman screaming, coming from a room nearby, so I ran to help. I arrived in time to see the lunatic – the one who killed a guy with a string trimmer the other day – advancing on a young woman who was crouching in the corner, clearly terrified. The man had a sai in one hand and a large dagger in the other, and he looked like he was having the time of his life.
I didn’t pause to catch my breath. I ran into the room, and the guy spun around, said, “Wait your turn,” and threw the sai at me. He just barely missed. I charged at him, and swung the shillelagh at him. He dodged backwards in surprise. Without stopping to think, I reached into my bag and pulled out the nail driver, and I pointed it at the guy’s head. I told him to get out of there. He hesitated for a second, then turned and ran.
I put the nail driver away and helped the woman to her feet. I told her my name was Tom, and she introduced herself as Ilona. I get the impression she’s quite wary of me, but she was obviously grateful that I helped her. I can’t help noticing that she’s been hurt; there’s a nasty burn on her left arm. She speaks with a Southern US accent, and she doesn’t look like she can be much older than Iaru and his friends.
We’re camping out in another box room. We’ve decided to stick together for now. I’m keeping watch at the moment. You never know when another madman will turn up. Tomorrow, we’re going to look for a way out of here together.