Episode Thirty-Two: Return to the Portal

William was running so fast that when he saw the horizon, he only saw it as a wall of blue as he came around out of a stand of trees, and then he was in it. The moment of nothingness seemed much longer than when he had come in. His mind was full of a thousand thoughts of what might be happening in the portal. Had the girls successfully subdued Dean? Or had he overcome them like he had Troy? If so, was he in time to get Dean himself?
The first thing he became aware of was laughter. Dean's laughter. His own weak body, the feeding tube in his mouth, the handcuffs around his wrists all came a moment later. As he put the pieces of the scene around him together, William felt his hope deflating.
“Did you hear that, Sarah?” mocked Dean. “She told me to give it up. She said the misery wasn't worth it. Do I look miserable to you?” He walked away from the bed with Elizabeth in it; she was now sound asleep. Dean was still holding the syringe he had emptied into her. Hoping to benefit from the element of surprise, William held still as Dean passed him.
“What do you think, Sarah, would I be happier in a world of fame and fortune? Or a federal prison?” Dean asked walking over to where she too was chained to her bed.
In response, she swung herself out of the bed and landed her foot squarely in Dean stomach. Dean seemed to have forgotten that unlike his other prisoners, her muscles hadn't weakened a bit. He doubled over in pain, the wind knocked out of him.
“Definitely prison,” said Sarah, standing to a somewhat awkward position; feet on the floor, but hunched over with her hands chained. “And I hope you enjoy it a long time.”
When he was able, Dean retrieved another set of handcuffs from the desk at the front of the room and began walking back toward Sarah, murder in his eyes. William decided to get in on the struggle and kicked at Dean as he went by. His foot caught Dean in the thigh, but it lacked sufficient force to do much. He fell out of bed in the attempt. The whole experience—the impact on Dean's thigh, the weight of his body on the edge of the bed frame, falling onto the floor, the handcuffs jerking his arms in their sockets, and Dean's return kick—were all more painful than William thought possible.
Elizabeth tried to take advantage of William's actions, by kicking out again, this time aimed at Dean's groin. Dean was ready for her and caught her foot while stepping aside. With one quick motion he pulled her around, back on the bed, and cuffed her foot to the other end of the bed. Elizabeth struggled, but it was useless. Dean laughed again, seeming to enjoy the sport.
Unable to bare the pain of having his weak wrists pulled by the metal, William struggled back into the bed. Stretched out as she was, she couldn't resist much as Dean put her to sleep. After dealing with her, he turned on William. “So, you finally got out. I'm glad I have real prison walls to hold you in from now on. What do you have to say for yourself?”
William didn't respond; he had nothing to say—not to Dean.
“How did the three of you, and Troy earlier get out? When Troy told me about making the computer run out of memory, I thought he was telling the truth.”
So that's how he found out, thought William.
“But I know it's a lie—look” he pointed over to the screen, where on the wall was projected the computers status: hard drives only sixty-one percent full. “I added a dozen hard drives, and they haven't hardly been used.”
Suddenly, William understood, but it did them little good now. He still refused to say anything to Dean.
“Fine—give me the silent treatment, but Sarah and your other friends will pay for this.” He picked up another syringe and twiddled it in his fingers, the bare needle going round and round. “After I kill Troy, Jim, and Elizabeth, I'll take Sarah out to the cabin as planed. Don't expect to wake up until, she is already in the death trap.” The words hurt William, but didn't say a word—just stared Dean in the eye, who kept getting nearer.
Suddenly Jim, who had been laying motionless on the bed across from William, sprang to life. Arching his body between one foot and his hands on the pillow, he thrust out with his other leg. The timing and placement was perfect; his foot shoved the syringe from Dean's hand and into his stomach, emptying it's contents.
For a second time the air burst from Dean's lungs, but this time accompanied by a sharp pain, then a dulling of the senses.