Give Me Freedom, Give Me Indiana Jones (standard:drama, 2919 words)
Author: ruby	Added: May 14 2001	Views/Reads: 3473/2480	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Derek, a young psychologist from manhattan, finds his way into an underground world of trouble. The story is structured around an internal monologue, influenced by not only his desire to escape, but also his realization that he lost anything and everythi

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with my secretary. 

“You know what Renee?” 

“What’s that baby?”  I always loved her accent, it was so warm and
inviting that anything she said just sounded so polite, no matter how 
many connotations it might have had.  I determined at that point that I 
would find myself a southern bell someday too, but not Renee; I’m not 
into the older-than-my-mom thing. 

“I’ve been working with Eve for five months, and she just now told me
who the man was in all her crazy dreams.”  I have a confession to make. 
 I knew I wasn’t supposed to discuss my patients’ problems, but Eve 
was, well, Eve was a big pain in the ass and I had to tell someone. 

“Who!  Who was it baby!  Oh that woman sure was crazy, tell me!  Was it
one of them soap opera actin’ boys?”  Renee wasn’t the most well 
rounded person, but she was loyal. 

“Close, he is an actor,” I pause, thinking that I actually called ‘them
soap opera boys’ actors, “let’s just say he thrives in the ‘Temple of 
Doom.’” 

“You’re kiddin’!  That’s uh, uh, Harrison Ford!  She been dreamin’ ‘bout
him?” 

“Well, not Harrison Ford, Indiana Jones.”  I couldn’t help but to smirk
to myself. 

“There’s a difference?”  Renee looked at me, puzzled in her southern
world. 

“Apparently.  Look, I’m going to lunch, do you want anything?  I’m going
to Aunt Chiladas, I hear they have some great burritos.”  Renee shook 
her head as I remembered her ‘diet.’  I grabbed my laptop and headed 
down the stairs as the bustling noises of city life invaded my senses.  
I may not be from the South, but I’m definitely from a smaller town 
than Manhattan. 

You ever get that strange feeling you’re being watched?  I do, all the
time; I guess that’s pretty common living in a city like this though.  
The lingering thought in my head sent the impulse to hold my laptop 
just a little tighter.  The labyrinth of thoughts unfolding in my mind 
were calmed with that first big bite into my ‘burrito humungo’ 
(apparently they’ re not as authentic as they claim).  Damn, no extra 
sour cream.  Irritated, I flipped open my laptop, and began to rattle 
off the mindless occurrences of the day that agitated me to the point 
of a needed release--my computer journal.  That strange feeling again 
crept down my spine, and I spun my chair around fast enough to catch 
the culprit--a damn angel. 

“Sorry, the way that I’m sitting I just couldn’t help but to notice...”
As she trailed off in apology, I remained in such a trance, that I 
didn’t hear a word else she said.  She was unmistakably the most 
sublime creature I had ever laid eyes on, and she was talking to, me.  
My alertness was recaptured with the snap of her fingers, but my eyes 
still followed their fading trail.  Trail?  Was I on drugs?  I 
instantly found the burrito liable, for it was about to come out of me 
in protest.  Pushing past the beaded curtain of a doorway, I ran for 
the bathroom, making it just in time to look back and see the woman 
grab my laptop.  That’s the last thing I remember. 

“Food poisoning.” 

“What?  Where am I?”  As I fought to open my eyes, it didn’t take long
to figure it out-- the man in the white coat, the machines, etc.  “Who 
admitted me?  Wha...” I managed to sputter out a few more ‘questions’ 
before a woman entered the room. 

“Oh, well, Ruby will explain everything here.”  The doctor nodded to the
woman, smiling faintly, and exited the room.  I watched as he left, and 
my eyes began to wander about the room--it struck me as odd.  There 
weren’t any windows, or other patients, or any of those little extras 
you’re accustomed to seeing on those emergency room television shows.  
The woman approached me, and as my vision cleared, I realized it was 
the woman from the restaurant.  She too, was adorned with medically 
related articles and other oddities.  She sat in a chair next to my 
bed, and blatantly stared at me for a few moments.  Growing 
uncomfortable in her silence, I asked if this was really all necessary 
for food poisoning.  She ignored the question, and continued to stare 
at me. 

“I never got to introduce myself to you,” she started. 

“Ruby, right?”  She smiled at the mention of her name, strangely
satisfied.  God, she was beautiful. 

“Well, at least we know your senses are working.”  Ruby said, again
flashing me that angelic smile.  “In all honesty, Derek, if I may call 
you Derek...” I nodded--how could I tell her no?  “...your food 
poisoning wasn’t an accident.”  Confused, and growing rather fearful, I 
instinctively tightened my grip on the sheets--as if that would serve a 
purpose.  “We’ve been watching you for some time Derek, you’re very 
smart indeed.  You proved that to us in your senior dissertation.”  As 
I recollected back, it almost started to make sense, almost.  My thesis 
was based on dream interpretation, and its possibilities as far as mind 
control.  “As you know, your work has been both highly regarded by many 
professionals, and also the subject of much controversy.  We would like 
to have you come work for us, and hopefully, you’ll prove to be as 
smart as we all believe you are.” 

“Couldn’t you just have asked me?  Did you have to do all of this?  I
mean, if it’s some great job, I don’t think you would have had to...hey 
wait, you kidnapped me!” 

“Kidnapping is such an accurate word, I wish you wouldn’t use it.”  It
was so hard to be angry at her, watching her fingers move about the 
linens, picking off the fuzz balls of impurity, this obviously being a 
trait acquired through years of training to weed out the inferior.  
“There is a catch though, and it’s difficult for me to break this to 
you, for I’ve developed a bit of a soft spot for you.”  I watched as 
her face twisted in search of a proper emotional display.  “You can’t 
leave, ever.  In fact, I’m one of the few who can.  Dream job, yes, if 
you consider it a dream to work in utter isolation from the outside 
world, with the exception of your co-workers.” 

“So you guys specialize in secretive mind control research, and recruit
your workers by means of kidnapping?  Yeah, way to stay covert about 
things.  Look, I don’t want anything to do with this, just get me out 
of here.”  As I struggled to loosen the straps around my arms, Ruby 
slapped a red button affixed above my bed, put her hands over mine, and 
spoke in the most unnerving tone I’ve heard in a long time. 

“You’re not going anywhere.”  Her once angelic face had dropped to a
uniform look of treachery.  As quickly as my admiration for Ruby had 
dissolved, a group of men in white coats entered the room.  One carried 
a syringe, and despite my efforts, he injected every last drop of its 
contents into my veins.  I was helpless. 

A gap formed in the group as another man came forth and peered over my
bedside.  “Listen Derek, you have two choices, and about thirty seconds 
to decide.  Either you work with us, and I give you this antidote, or 
you don’t, and we put you back on the street as a vegetable for life.  
Thirty seconds Derek, thirty seconds.”  Barely capable of speaking, I 
reached for the antidote, and the man smiled and said, “ We knew you’d 
make the right choice.”  The man injected me with the serum, and my 
body felt as if it were burning from the inside out.  “You might 
experience a little discomfort, we’ll see you in an hour.”  With that, 
all but Ruby exited the room, leaving me to suffer. 

She drew closer to my bedside, and in my near catatonic state, all I
could manage to sputter out was the horribly cliché: “whyyyyyy?”  That 
warm smile reclaimed her face as she lifted her left hand, revealing in 
her palm, the scarred over tissue of some sort of implanted device.  
She simultaneously lifted mine, to reveal a fresh wound. 

“We don’t have a choice.” 

It’s been three years, eighty-one days, and five hours since that
moment.  Ruby has since been, exterminated, due to an attempted escape. 
 The same goes for portions of the group of men who entered my room 
that day, who also found the monotony and endless mind control 
unbearable.  They were my co-workers, my sanity, and now they too have 
been deprived from me.  It’s funny how much I miss those days of 
deciphering hidden meanings in Indiana Jones.  No matter how boring, 
pointless, or even ridiculous my patients might have been, they all 
take for granted, and share in something I will never again achieve: 
freedom. 

* * * 

Click, save as, done.  I stare at the screen in almost utter disbelief;
I can’t believe that just those few pages can summarize the past three 
years of my life.  As I sit and mutter to myself, my emotions begin to 
overwhelm me; I am about to vindicate my entrapment.  I quickly dismiss 
them, and focus on the task at hand.   I lean back in my chair, subtly 
glancing in either direction down the corridor, scanning for any 
security personal.  Checking my watch, it was 2:27 A.M., and the coast 
was clear.  I bend down, and in pretending to scratch my leg, I insert 
my floppy disk with the saved information into my sock.  A floppy disk 
is definitely illegal here, for there can be no evidence; the only way 
I have one is because it was in my laptop, and the idiots never 
checked.  Forget their rules now, I’m getting out of here.  The plan 
that I have spent the last three months devising was about to go down, 
and either it’s going to work, or I’m going to die trying. 

The explosives and all other frameworks are in place, and as I walk
towards my freedom, the plan keeps replaying in my mind.  I am going to 
escape, obviously, but everyone else who has tried was killed in the 
process, however, I am not one of them.  The explosions begin as I 
encounter the first set of pitifully armed guards.  I pull out several 
pouches filled with chemicals I had mixed (under their own 
surveillance!) and hurl them at their suits.  As designed, the pouches 
stick, and within seconds, the guards immediately burst into flames.  I 
run past them, mentally checking them off the list of obstacles ahead, 
and proceed to take down any other guards in a similar fashion.  
Reciting the blueprints of the compound in my head, I take every 
correct turn, and an overwhelming sense of euphoria envelops me as I 
see the infamous red handled-door of freedom ahead.  Tears stream down 
my face as I reach for the handle, and in turning it, the most 
excruciating pain rips through my side, and splatters onto the door.  I 
don’t even bother to glance back, knowing that I had been shot, I just 
didn’t give a damn.  I swing open the door, and collapse to the ground 
as another bullet rips through my knee.  The door automatically swings 
shut, and the guards are no doubt but a few feet away.  I take out my 
disk, and bury it just slightly enough under some earth that it may 
still be found.  I take out my final device, that of the explosive 
detonation, and upon the realization that this would probably be the 
last time I would lay eyes on anything and everything I had taken for 
granted, I pause, and take in one last breath.  My watch strikes 2:33, 
and I push down the button... 

* * * 

“So what do we got here Jim?”  Captain Wilson asked. 

“Well, that’s still up for debate sir.  I mean, there was obviously some
kind of underground building here, but no one has any idea of what it 
was.  A resident was hiking and he called in, saying he saw an 
explosion come from the middle of nowhere.  I mean, this is the damn 
desert for god’s sake.” 

“Captain Wilson, sir, I’ve found something, you’d better come check it
out,” a random officer says.  Wilson walks over as the rookie brushes 
some dirt off of the disk, and holds it up for his Captain to see.  
Putting the disc in an evidence bag, the police continue to search the 
area, but come up with nothing else but charred, unidentifiable 
remains.  Every person that had any knowledge of the laboratory and its 
purposes had been killed.  The disk was restored though, and every 
thought, secret, and plan to escape had been lifted from its memory, 
hence revealing the underground conspiracy in its entirety.  The mind 
control is over, and Derek is now free, dancing away on a rooftop from 
2:33 to eternity. 


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