Free A Shot at Freedom by Kelli Bradicich Page A

yelled.
    Tyler dropped him and strolled down the hall. Tim scooted down the stairs, burying his head in the crook of his elbow. The office door flew open. The worker who’d dropped Tim off stood at the entry way staring down at Brooke. With shaky hands, she took a sip of her coffee, desperately trying to swallow it.
    “What’s going on?”
    “Just drinking my coffee,” Brooke said, gesturing with her chipped mug to him.
    “Tim,” the worker called out to him, “Good to see you out of the car. Can you come into the office for a quick intake?”
    “I’m not fucking staying here,” Tim hurled back, lifting his distraught face. “I want to go home.”
    “Well, you should have thought about that yesterday. We had a deal. You broke it more than once. We’re ready when you are,” the worker said, over his shoulder.
    Tim inched up the stairs, and disappeared into the office. The door closed.
    Brooke’s wrist felt too weak to hold the coffee. She placed it down on the step beside her. She needed a plan to get out of there. 
 

 
    Chapter Eleven
    David
    The bell clanged and the boom gates lowered, bringing a line of cars to a stop. David walked past all the drivers and stood, patient, his gaze fixed on the sign ahead. 29kms. Sweating like mad in the humidity, he swayed on his feet, and his vision blurred. There was time to cross the tracks but he chose not to.
    The cane train trundled past, too many carriages to count , throwing off a welcome breeze but forcing him back. He didn’t think about his death until then, way too late. It was harder to throw yourself at a train than it would be to stand in front of it with your back to it. It’s all about the eyes, what they see and the messages they send to the brain. Sight was the deadliest of the fear-provoking senses.
    He took a swig of the port disguised in a can of Coke. A couple of boys in a farm ute, far shinier than the old one he’d discarded, started up a chant behind him. Jump….jump…jump…jump…”
    It made him want to run. There would be snakes in the cane field, black and brown. Instead, he made another choice, and raised his can high to them. “Cheers,” he shouted, staggering back. Crouching to the ground, he regained his balance. The metal wheels slid over the tracks, sounding like sharpening knives.
    A chorus of cheers erupted from the back seat of the ute.
    “Shut up,” he muttered.
    A car door slammed. He looked up to see a girl in a tight pair of jeans swaggering over to him. She bent over him and lifted him up. Her eyes were grey-blue and framed with pale green eye shadow.
    “Wow .” David snorted. “Great eyes.”
    The girl took the can from him and sniffed it. “Where are you from?”
    “Where am I going to , you mean?”
    She cocked her head to the side.
    He let her check him out. “29 ks.” He nodded his head at the green mileage sign, lifting his top lip in a drunken attempt at a smile.
    Hooking one arm under his elbow, the girl dragged his bag and guided him away from the tracks.
    “ Don’t bring him over here. We don’t want him.”
    “Be nice, Chas. I’ll put him in the back. We can tell your dad you did a good deed today.”
    S he dropped the back tray of the ute, and David scrambled in all knees and fists, sliding over picks, shovels and trowels. Among metal and wood, arranged like pick-up- sticks, he flopped down and sighed.
    So this is how it’s going to end for me. A smack to the head with a shovel, hacked at by a pick and dropped into a shallow grave. “That’s just fucking great.” He smiled up at the single white fluffy cloud whirling high above him.
    ***
    A banging on the soles of his shoes brought David to his senses. The blue sky and piercing sunlight made it difficult to make out the face peering over him.
    “Wake up .”
    He groaned.
    Hands gripped each ankle, dragging him over metal and wood.
    “Don’t hurt him!” the girl shrieked.
    He felt her grab at his shirt, but he kept sliding, taking the