Mike had always hated closed spaces. He had hated them since the day he broke something. He didn't remember what it was that he had broken, but he remembered how the guard had grabbed him and beaten him that day.
He remembered the days he was locked in that small, dark room. He had almost died there because they hadn't given him any water or food.
These memories ran through his mind as he looked at the air vent.
He took a deep breath and climbed in, taking slow, steady breaths as he moved through it.
"Finally… I've made it."
He opened the vent and jumped into the room. This time, only James and 175 were inside.
Mike smiled nervously.
"I got the folder."
He pulled it from under his clothes and handed it to James"
"Thank you. I knew you would help us,"
James said with a smile.
He opened the folder, and 175 sat beside him. They whispered something that Mike couldn't understand.
"So… what is it?"
James looked at him as if he had forgotten Mike was there. Then he quickly put on his usual carefree expression.
"It's something very important. Something we need in order to escape from here."
James closed the folder sharply and stepped closer to Mike.
"Mike, you must not come back here."
"What?"
"When they find out the folder is missing, they will suspect you."
"But—"
"Mike, please. Trust me. When it's safe, we'll talk."
Mike wanted to say something, but in the end, he didn't.
"Okay… but what's inside this folder?"
James didn't answer for a moment. Then he finally spoke.
"It's the way to get out of this place."
Mike felt a strange feeling inside him, but he decided to trust James.
That night, he couldn't stop worrying.
"There's no way… right?"
He was sitting on the floor of the cell with the other slaves when the door suddenly opened.
It was too early for work.
Two guards entered the room. One of them shouted.
"Number 198!"
Mike didn't respond. He froze in fear.
The guard shouted again.
"Number 198!"
This time, Mike forced himself to stand up and answered.
"That's me."
"Follow us."