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Biker Mice From mars

In

Shattered Freedom

Chapter 18

By :Whipblade

Dot and Buck marched their lone tan mouse to the showering room. The massive square that could hold twenty prisoners at once was nothing more than gray non-slip tiles with twenty showerheads and just as many drains. Dot brought the mouse to the center of the room, while Buck shut and secured the lone door.

Throttle started to pull back, unable to actually speak due to the pain and swelling in his throat, that he undoubtedly made worse by talking earlier.

Motioning the mouse to undress, Dot undid the cuffs.

Throttle ran straight for the locked door. Ignoring the strange soft chirping, he tried to pry the door open, panic sweeping aside all logic.

Dot and Buck exchanged glances, they didn't want to get rough, the mouse had obviously been put through enough, but they needed him showered. Grabbing a shoulder each, they hauled the mouse to the nearest shower.

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Throttle scowled as Dot and Buck lead him back to his cell. Still damp in places he refused to let them dry, after the cuff came off and the two let him be, did the strange voices from somewhere across the vast opening start.

"Hey! You're back!" The same young voice from before called out. "I don't know if you can understand me, I'm Bolt."

"He's back?" The older voice echoed from above.

"He sure is Keifire, I can't see that good, but he looks .... Wet." Bolt called back.

"Well hey down there newbie!" Keifire called. "Welcome to the Wrangler Five Prison."

Throttle's ears fell back as he listened to the prisoners chatter, they both sounded rather...., Cheerful; not something he'd expect from a prison.

"Is anyone up that can see the isolation cells?" Bolt called, his voice carrying along the expanse.

"Ugh! I'm up now!" A third older voice growled. Blankets flapping sounded before the padding of bare pads on the chilly floors. "You boys can't let an old Martian sleep now can yous?"

"Aww, come on now bro." Bolt chuckled. "You ain't that old."

"Nahh Bolt, he's Ancient" Keifire laughed.

"Shut yer mouth boy! ...... what cell?"

"First one in." Bolt replied as Keifire laughed.

Throttle stepped back from the bars; he waited listening not sure what or who was above him. They sounded like Mice, yet Keifire was far from a typical mouse name; although oddly familiar, Throttle pondered on the name a moment.

"Hey new kid, I'm Road Rage, what's your name?" He waited a beat, still not a sound from the kid below. Repeating the greeting in a different language he watched below carefully.

Throttle stepped closer to the bars, tipping his head up, he scanned the mass number of identical cells for any movement.

"Well now, haven't seen a mouse come in for some time, what's your name kid?" Road Rage said continuing in the Martian Mouse dialect while watching the tan mouse scan the walls. Picking up a sock from his pile of dirty clothes, he waved it. The new mouse's head snapped in his direction. "There we go!"

The shower had warmed his throat up some. Opening his mouth Throttle attempted to shout his name, only to sound like a dying horse before coughing.

Listening to the poor thing hack while rubbing his throat, Road Rage worried. He yelled once the new mouse finished coughing. "Wave your hand if you can understand English."

Spotting a dark spot on the mouse's neck, Road Rage frowned it didn't look like a shadow.

Throttle waved, tears in his eyes.

Road Rage smiled "Try waving again if you can't speak."

Throttle waved again before wandering to his bunk, tired he laid down.

"Well?" Bolt asked impatiently.

"He understands English, but he can't seem to talk at the moment. Looks kinda roughed up." Road Rage called back. "He didn't arrive on no luxury ship that's for sure."

"Another prison transit?" Keifire asked.

"Nope, he's all alone. I'm not sure where he came from, other than Mars." Road Rage sighed. "Understand Native Mouse."

"He can't seem to comprehend the guards either." Bolt said as one of the two Roo guards came back in carrying a tray.

Dot set the tray down on the floor and pushed it in a bit. Throttle lifted his head hearing the clang. Dot stood in the doorway holding a tray. The exotic chirping that resembled some sort of a language only confused him more.

"That's Coatl, his friend is Atl. They're both nice, even though Atl can be a bit of a jerk." Bolt supplied his opinion. "He's asking if you're hungry."

Dot, or rather Coatl smiled softy nodding, standing at the door waiting for the mouse to approach the tray.

Buck or rather Atl, wandered up beside his comrade. The mouse never made a move for the tray.

Throttle raised his snout, sniffing. Plunking his head down hard he groaned. 'can't smell, damn.' he thought to himself. 'Can't speak either, this sucks, and where the hell is Mace?'

Coatl chirped slowly.

"It's watered down rice with a little bit of butter, warmed." Bolt translated.

Coatl gave a thumbs up to the cell block above.

Sitting up, Throttle slid off the metal bed, approaching the single bowl and spoon beside the jug of water and a paper cup on the tray.

Throttle carefully picked up the plastic spoon and dipped it into the mush.

Atl gave an urgent chirp.

"Slow down or you're going to be sick!" Bolt interpreted.

"Too late." Keifire hummed as the sound of retching echoed from below.

"Wasn't the right concoction?" Coatl chirped to Atl.

"Might have eaten too fast, don't know when he last had a meal." Atl replied opening the tan mouse's cell door.

Coatl entered retrieving the empty tray, bowl and dirty spoon. Leaving the pitcher of water and a cup, he exited the cell, completely ignored by the throwing up mouse.

"Poor thing." Road Rage grumbled from his cell; watching Atl take away the dirty dishes out of the cell block.

Coatl stood watching the mouse crawl back onto the metal slab used for a bed.

Someone shouted out in the now familiar chirping sound. The lights blinked off encasing the cellblock in darkness. Only the isolation cells were illuminated.

Dejected, Coatl waited until the mouse drifted off to sleep before leaving the block, turning the last lights out as he left.

***************

The lights flickered on without warning.

Groaning at the bright interruption, Throttle groggily rubbed his fake eyes. A familiar chirp caught his attention. Sitting up he blinked back sleep and faced his cells' door.

Coatl, Atl and a new being, looking like a really big Emu stood staring at him.

The birds large round black eyes appeared soulless.

*

Shuffling along in their morning routines, Bolt, Keifire and Road Rage paused as they spotted the two guards and the Emu below.

"Now, why do you suppose the doctor is there for?" Road Rage asked Bolt, his short black fur scruffy from sleep.

The gray and white patched mouse beside the tall black Freedom Fighter shrugged. "Could be his sensitive digestive system," Bolt replied scratching at this short brown choppy hair.

"Or his throat," Keifire put in, his long black fur a contrast to his long and wild orange hair with red streaks through it.

Stopping the trio gazed over the railing to see what the commotion was down below.

"Shut the door! Shut the door!" The Emu yelled as he rushed from the cell; Holding his arm, blood dripping down.

Coatl and Atl watched the mouse as they shut the door.

"That was the last vaccine; he's clean enough to mingle with the rest of the prisoners." The Emu doctor grumbled.

"Clean enough?" Atl questioned. "We don't integrate unless their healthy."

"Other than the surface, he's healthy." The Emu doctor stated.

"Just the bruising?" Coatl asked watching the mouse glare at the bird.

"Bruising, treated lacerations and that throat of his is pretty swollen and bruised." The doctor elaborated. "Other than that I am amazed at healthy he is." Rolling us his sleeve, the bird checked out his wing injury. "For all rats are good for; keeping prisoners is not their forte'." He hummed seeing the laceration. "Ouch! That mouse's teeth are sharp!"

"The rat that brought him in?" Atl eyed the bite mark on the birds arm.

"Owned him." He nodded his small head; he slipped pass the guards he made his way to the medical center.

"A rat?" Road Rage worried, gazing at the blood splatter on the floor.

"A rat that owns a mouse?" Bolt echoed Road Rage's thought.

"I wonder how old that boy is." Keifire hummed.

"MOVE IT!" A guard shouted at the trio. Hurrying their pace, they caught up with the rest of their cellblock mates.

The Mess Hall looked like any other prison mess hall. Long tables filled with inmates wearing variations of the same gray uniform he did. The drab walls and clattering of silverware polluted the air.

Coatl escorted Throttle through the crowd, carrying a bowl of food in one hand.

Throttle lowered his head; he didn't care to be seen at the moment. Unable to understand anyone but the mice, made everything frustrating.

Coatl stopped behind an older bronze mouse with graying whiskers. Chirping at the strange mouse, he placed a bowl of food between the older one and a young blond boy.

The older mouse scooted over to make room.

Coatl patted Throttle on the head lightly, waving for him to sit.

Smiling slightly Throttle sat, the Kangaroo wandered away. Staring at the bowl of food, Throttle didn't move to touch it. He drank the water beside it instead.

"Hey." The gruff voice of the old mouse greeted.

Throttle didn't respond.

"Road Rage, what was that new meat from the iso-cell was called?"

"He didn't, couldn't speak." Road Rage hollered from the other end of the table. He paused spotting the new tan mouse stirring his mush. Standing up, he slid between the tan and the blond.

"Rage you ass!" The blond hissed trying not to spill his drink.

"Sorry Gin." Road Rage apologized before turning his attention to the tan mouse. "Hey there." The boy wasn't a mere boy, at least late twenties, possibly early thirties, thin and signs of loosing a fight or just being beaten up on more than one occasion crossed his tawny fur.

"You know the whole stereotypes of prisons are completely false when it comes to this place. The wranglers are nice; they all treat us well when we behave."

Throttle's ears dropped.

"How long has it been for you? You know, since you been on Mars?" Road Rage asked.

Turning his head, Throttle glared at the charcoal black mouse, almost recognizing him but couldn't put a finger on from where.

"Silly question." Road Rage muttered.

"Rage, shut up." The older graying mouse grumbled. "Your ramblings are giving me a headache."

"Come one Tailgate we haven't a newbie in years."

Shaking his head in annoyance, the bronze and graying mouse sighed. "Look, it's a nick name. Okay, I got it from tailgating too often on the highway. Real names Rigs. Call me it and I'll slit your throat while you sleep."

Throttle gave a short nod glancing at the bronze mouse. Then spotted him, at the other side of the table Keifire; the black mouse with the flame orange hair with red ribbons through it. Throttle's pink eyes widened getting up he walked over to the mouse and tapped him on the shoulder.

Road Rage and Tailgate exchanged glances. "Think the mouse is asking for a fight?"

"That or he's got a death wish."

"I'm betting a fight." Gin muttered watching the tan. "Good thing I'm done eating."

"Yeah, but he never touched his food." Tailgate muttered.

Keifire turned around to see the tawny mouse, whose face lit up like a child's on Christmas. Keifire however didn't recognize the mouse.

Throttle patted Keifire's right shoulder where the tattoo should be.

Giving the tawny a strange look, Keifire lifted his gray sleeve to show the mouse. "Freedom Fighter, how'd you know?"

Throttle took a shaky breath. "Sto..kes.." he shook his head it just hurt too much to talk.

"Stokes? Stoker!" Keifire looked at the mouse with a grin. "A fellow Freedom Fighter! About time! I was getting sick of all the army and civilians."

"Hey, hey!" Road Rage laughed. "No Army jokes."

Throttle quirked an eyebrow.

"The majority of the whole prison is Army, Civilian and a handful of unlucky Freedom Fighters." Keifire smirked. "Now, you recognize me, but I'm still drawing a blank on you."

"..." Throttle shook his head unable to make a TH sound. "r..ook..ie" he managed to wheeze.

Keifire puzzled over that. "rookie?" he smirked. "How about until you can talk, I call ya Roark? Okay? Good."

Throttle shook his head in amusement. 'Roark? What type of name is Roark?'

"Keifire got a name from him?" Tailgate asked calling over. "Or do I get to call him bumper sticker?"

Throttle chuckled lightly only to wince in pain.

"Roark." Keifire said with a smile.

"What type of name is that?" Road Rage asked.

A bell chimed.

"The name of an awesome artist." Keifire said standing up.

Tailgate frowned, the new meat, Roark hadn't eaten. He picked up the spoon and bowl and brought it with him. "Roark, hurry up." He yelled.

Throttle hurried to catch up. He was a few paces behind the bronze mouse, unable to see what he was carrying.

"Kay bro, bells mean its time to move our butts. We go back to our cell for an hour, and then we get to go to the exercise yard." Tailgate informed.

A Koala guard stopped the heavy mouse. Throttle frowned trying to understand what either of them was saying. The guard let them go but seemed displeased.

"You can't get lost until you reach the cell blocks." Tailgate said going along with the flow of the crowd. He noted his Bunkie was rather jumpy in crowds. "Ours is Number 195." He strolled until they got to the fifth cell in and then he turned in. That's when Throttle saw the bowl in his hand. He looked away quickly spotting the two bunks, one with clean new crisp linen. A stainless steel sink and toilette, the cell looked the same as his previous one, silver-gray roof and floor but this one had foam padding on the walls.

"That's your bunk." Tailgate pointed to the one with new bedding.

Throttle sat down on it, the bowl forced into his lap. Looking at the darker tan mouse Throttle sighed and took a tentative bite, he started to eat, slowly.

Tailgate watched until the mouse finished, he then gave the tawny a paper cup full of water. Making sure the tawny drank he waited.

Making no motions to throw up, Throttle leaned back on his bunk.

"Hey, Road Rage." Tailgate called walking up to the bars, he leaned his head to the right looking on down the line.

"Yeah?" Road Rage replied.

"Roark ate breakfast without tossing it up." The bronze mouse said.

"What type of name is Roark?" Some new voice called from far above.

"It's the name of an artist!" Keifire yelled.

There were some snickers among the inmates. "Leave it to a Freedom Fighter to know about art."

Throttle chuckled before coughing a bit.

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To Be Continued.....

Whipblade 2007

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