Fugitive

"Breaking news: police are searching for convict Austin Carlile after he escaped California state prison at 5:17 this evening." Andy glanced at the news to see the displayed picture on the television.

"Mr Carlile, previously convicted of
murder, escaped at 5:17 this evening after being treated for a gunshot wound at the local hospital. Police say that he is still suspected to be in the Los Angeles area. Now we go to the Chief of Police in Los Angeles: Chief Joshua Franceschi."

"Yes, hello. Austin Carlile has the gunshot wound on the left side of his abdomen, as well as a fresh gunshot wound to the right leg. He won't have gotten far, we are warning people to stay inside tonight, lock your doors and windows, if you see him, please inform the police. He'll be looking for a safe place for tonight, he may be armed, so stay on your guard, and inform the police if you see him."

"Thank you, Chief Franceschi. On other news tonight-" Andy shut off the television and, feeling slightly apprehensive, only reaffirmed by the sound of sirens, he went about locking the doors and windows.

Austin knew he should be in pain. He could feel it, but it was almost distant, the adrenaline that had been pumping through his body for the past hour masking it well. He had been forced to steal a car and speed towards the coast. He had been relieved to get away from central L.A, headed straight for the outskirts, he'd taken back alleys until he was forced to go along the beach. Grateful for the fact that at this time of night so late in the year, there was no one on this part of the beach, the last part of it before it changed into a large stretch of forests. With no one around, the adrenaline had begun to run out, and pain and exhaustion had started to creep in. By the time Austin had reached the end of the beach, he was praying for a place to rest, but the sudden, harsh scream of sirens from the highway panicked him again, and he continued to limp on until he found a footpath. He staggered up the path for ten minutes before seeing where it led to, a house. Hope flooded into his mind, and he crept closer to it. There were lights on, but he couldn't see anyone inside.

He'd been standing by the kitchen counter apprehensively sipping at a cup of lukewarm coffee when someone knocked on the door loudly, making him jump and spill it down himself. He walked towards the door slowly, too scared to open it.

"Hello? Is anyone there? This is Officer Beck from L.A PD. I'm just doing my rounds checking up on people." Andy breathed a sigh of relief and opened the door, only to see the man whom he'd seen on the news. He tried to slam the door, but the man wedged his foot in it before he was able. Andy fought against him, but the other man was stronger and he slammed into it, sending Andy sprawling backwards and giving him the opportunity to get inside.

"Get out! S-stay-" Andy started shouting and the man shoved the door closed and clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Stop shouting!" Andy tried to punch and lash out at him but he grabbed hold of him and shook him roughly.

"Please!!! please help me. I'm not gonna hurt you...I swear." Andy finally stopped struggling and the convict moved his hands off him.

"You realise what you're asking of me?!" Andy hissed, the other man nodded frantically.

"I know, and I'm sorry but please..." They both flinched as sirens rang out as a patrol car whizzed past the house.

"N- oh jesus..." Andy trailed off as the blood seeping down the convict's leg caught his eye.

"Sit down."

"Thank you....." He breathed heavily, Andy nodded, swallowing in fear. The man attempted to move and swayed dangerously on his feet, grasping at the wall again. Andy remembered what he'd heard, and the blood seeping through his clothes wasn't exaggerating, he saw the sheen of sweat from pain and exertion on the other man's face.

"Y-you're bleeding...I should do something."

"Probably ripped the stitches when I ran..." He gritted his teeth and walked forwards, sitting down at Andy's dining table.

"I know some medical stuff...do you want me to check them?" Austin nodded and started pulling off the baggy orange jail scrubs. He knelt down nervously as the man stretched out and he pulled back the dressing slowly, gritting his teeth when he saw the gaping, bleeding wound, stitches all ripped.

"Put the dressing back over them - keep the pressure on there. I need to get supplies." The convict did as he was told and Andy, in a state of panic, ran down the stairs to the basement and grabbed various medical supplies, jogging back up to the man, focusing entirely on the task at hand to keep his fear at bay.
"You're going to need to lie down, come into the spare bedroom-"

"Just do it here." The man said in a pained voice, yet the authority in it was clear - and Andy was not about to argue with him. He knelt beside him again and fought to keep his hands steady as he removed the dressing and picked up the hot cloth, squeezing out the excess water.

"I'm sorry, I don't have pain meds besides aspirin."

"It doesn't matter." Andy noticed him clench his fists and he began cleaning it before quickly getting to work sewing the wound up again, ensuring not to flinch when the convict would tense up in pain when the needle dragged through his flesh.

"There, it's done. I'm just gonna redress it." The man nodded, face ashen grey, beads of sweat pouring down his body, Andy redressed the freshly stitched wound and helped him take off the matching orange trousers so he could attend to his leg.

"Shit...the bullet's still in there....you're lucky, it doesn't look like it's hit any main arteries. But I'm gonna have to remove it, otherwise it'll get seriously infected. Can you take it?" He nodded and Andy gave him two more painkillers.

"Have a drink, take them, let your heart rate calm down and give them the chance to kick in before we do this. I don't think you'll handle it otherwise." He did as he was told without question, highlighting the level of pain he was in. Andy washed his hands and some of the equipment, warily watching the man who sipped at the water and closed his eyes against the pain.

"It's...it's letting up a little bit, I think...I'm good to go..." Andy returned to his former position, heart suddenly racing with apprehension as he moved to pick up the surgical tweezers.

"I...strap me down." Andy looked at the man who had completely slumped against the chair and table.

"Strap me down, before you take it out." Andy was hesitant but nodded and used his belt to strap the man's legs down to the chair opposite him.

"Ok, I'm going to take it out." The man grabbed onto the arms of the chair and closed his eyes. Andy gritted his teeth and dabbed at the oozing wound before going in with the tweezers. He reached the bullet and gripped it tightly, causing Austin to make a strangled noise of pain, knuckles looking as though they could burst through his skin as he gripped the chair. Andy pulled slowly and carefully, Austin clapped a fist over his mouth and grunted loudly in pain, veins standing out on end with the pressure.

"Ok, ok that's it, it's out, it looks....nope, there's no more internal damage. I've just gotta sew it up now, you're doing good, hang in there." He surprised himself at how calm he sounded, the man had lost too much blood in the process, and it was starting to show. Andy sewed it up as quickly as possible and dressed it before wiping away the blood and sweat surrounding the wounds, and covering up the bloodied cloths - not wanting to panic him even further.

"I'm gonna help you into bed, and you need to get some sleep, alright?" Andy suppressed a groan as he almost had to carry the much larger man up the stairs and into the spare bedroom, tucking him into the clean sheets and leaving a glass of water beside him. As he left he turned back to see the man still watching him, cautious and afraid, even through the pain.

"I won't call them...get some rest." With that he turned out the light and left.

Cleaning everything up and disposing of the jail clothes took some time, and Andy, far too on edge to go to bed himself, fell asleep on the couch at 2am.
He awoke at six, slightly disorientated, and stumbled towards the spare room as quickly as possible with painkillers and a cold flannel as he heard grunts and groans of pain.
He rushed in and the fugitive was drenched in sweat, and crying out in pain.

"Hey...hey it's alright, take these..." He helped him swallow the aspirin down, and placed the flannel on his head. The man clutched onto the bedsheets in his agony as Andy called his friend, Jake.

"Yo Andy, what's up?"

"I need a favour, Jake."

"Uh-huh."

"I need morphine, like, right now."

"Right now? What's it for? Are you hurt?"

"No, no I'm fine. It's....an experiment."

"Another one? Man..."

"Please, you said you owed me one after the surgery."

"Yeah...yeah, ok. I'll be there as soon as I can."

The half hour between the phone call and the time when the bell rang seemed to last forever as Andy desperately tried to ease the pain for the older man who was on the verge of going into cardiac arrest. Andy ran down the stairs and was so panicked on getting the morphine that he didn't think about trying to look more calm.

"Woah, Andy, are you sure you're ok?"

"Yes! I, uh, I'm great, this experiment is gonna go wrong if I leave it though, can I talk to you another time, Jake?" The other man handed him the morphine and laughed at him as he shook his head.

"You never change. Look, just be careful ok? You watch the news, lock the door after I leave. I'll see you soon, Andy."

"Ok, will do, drive safe!" Andy locked the door and sprinted up the stairs back to Austin, administering the safe drug dosage into his blood stream through the back of his hand, and waiting for it to take effect. Soon, he'd stopped squirming and groaning, and the veins in his head and neck relaxed as Andy wiped away the sweat with cold flannels. He was asleep in a matter of minutes.

Andy refused to think about the potential consequences of what he was doing, and focused on cleaning up and disposing of the jail scrubs. He sat in the chair in the corner of the spare room where Austin was sleeping, and tried to stay alert in case his condition deteriorated.

In the morning, Andy's eyes opened blearily, it took him a few minutes to realises that the bed was empty.