The homeless man sat propped up against the back of a park bench beneath the Golden Gate Bridge. It was after midnight and with clouds obscuring the moon and a low-lying mist off the water he could barely make out the massive iconic structure with its immense towers and huge looping coils of steel—the suspension lines that faded into the distance across San Francisco Bay. He sipped from a bottle hidden inside a paper bag. Empties were strewn about the area; this was his favorite spot on fall evenings when it wasn’t too cold. He still preferred the open air to the confines of the nearest shelter. Nope… nobody to tell you when to go to sleep or kick you out of bed in the morning. At least here he had some kind of freedom.

Taking another sip of “comfort” he noticed some shapes moving towards him; he scurried away and slipped into some nearby bushes. You can never be too careful. Last week some punks found him dozing, stole his booze and kicked him in the ribs until he was coughing blood—just for the hell of it. He heard police sirens in the distance. Nothing unusual about that on a Friday night.

“C’mon Peter, get your ass in gear,” said a gravelly voice, deep-throated and guttural.

“Cripes Mike. I’m movin as best I can. But my feet are killin me.”

“Will you guys quit bitchin for god’s sake! I think we’re almost at the bridge; if we can just make it across we’ll be free. Can’t you taste it?” The shapes moved closer but he still couldn’t see them clearly. Were there four of them? Suddenly they stopped.

“What the hell’s that smell? Micky, I don’t like this.”

The four figures all turned at once directly towards the bush where the homeless man crouched in terror. “Please go away… please go away… ” he whimpered. Then, surrendering, he raised his arms in the air and jumped out of the bushes, begging “PLEASE DON’T HURT ME!”

To his surprise, all four figures took off like a shot towards the edge of the water beneath the bridge. But before they left, he got one good look.

He scrambled to his feet and hurried towards the shelter about 5 minutes away.

Four hours earlier…

“You’re sure this is going to work?”

“Of course not. But it’s got to be better than rotting in here for the rest of our miserable lives. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? They drag our sorry asses back and we’re in solitary for a while. Look, I’ll go over it one last time… then we’re going, okay?”

“I guess…”

“In about half an hour we go into the yard for our recreation break. There’s going to be eight of us as usual. Now I’ve already got the other guys on board, but they don’t know only the two of us are in on the full escape. We’re going to use them as a diversion and get the hell out of here, for good.”

“And just how did you convince these guys? They’ve been in here a lot longer than you and nobody’s ever made a break for it.”

“Let’s say I’ve got skills. I was in a special program, you know, before they transferred me here. It was all about helping me communicate better. You know, show them how I felt about stuff. Some nice chick in a white labcoat asking me questions all day long. Drove me crazy… but I guess maybe something sunk in. I can’t explain it exactly, but I feel different somehow… smarter in some way. And that’s also when I heard about wine country—about an hour or so north of the Golden Gate Bridge. The chick’s boyfriend came in one day and that’s all they talked about—heading up north to check out the wine. They said it was like paradise with all the vines loaded with grapes ripening in the sun, ready for harvest.”

“It sounds great. But what about the guard?”

“I’ve got some rope hidden in the yard. We only need to tie him up and get the keys.”

“What rope? You’re not going to hurt—”

“Nobody’s getting hurt! Just leave the guard to me.”

“I don’t know, man.”

“And call me by my codename—Micky. And I’ll call you Davy.”

“If you say so.”

“One more thing. We’re picking up some “muscle” on the way out—two more guys.”

“Why?”

“Trust me on this one. I’ve got it all worked out and we might need them for Plan B if something goes wrong. Now take a deep breath and get ready.”

Thirty minutes later a violent outburst of noise erupted from the yard. Looking in, the guard saw four bodies writhing in convulsions near the centre of the area while four others yelled for help. Unholstering his taser he quickly moved inside to check things out. But he was grabbed by four strong arms as soon as made it through the door and the taser yanked out of his hands. The others were upon him in an instant; a ball was stuffed into his mouth as a gag and a coil of rope tightly wound around his body. Where did that rope come from?

“I’ve got the keys!” yelled Micky. “Let’s go.”

They moved into the outer hallway and Micky went to the nearest cell door.

“What are you doing? They’ll be on us in a minute!”

“Just the reason for another distraction,” Micky replied with eerie calm. He opened the door. “C’mon, get up you lazy bastard. Freedom calls.”

Dozing in the corner, the occupant cracked an eyeball open. “Wha.. what’s happenin?”

“Get moving. We’re making a break.”

The cellmate rolled out of his bed, yawned, stretched and started slowly towards the door.

“Man, are you on drugs? Go!”

“Fast as I can brother… fast as I can.”

“For cryin out loud… we gotta go.” Micky and Davy scurried out.

“Only one more stop… the muscle,” said Micky as they went through an emergency exit. The others rushed out behind him and immediately took off in all directions. Perfect, that should keep them busy for a while, he thought.

Keeping under cover, the two of them weaved around some small buildings and slipped inside through another emergency exit using the master key. Micky unlocked a cell door and called out. “Hey, let’s go! This is it… HEY!”

Two large shapes emerged from the shadows.

“Whoa!” said Davy. “You weren’t kidding about the muscle, were you?”

“Davy, say hi to Peter and Mike.”

“Hi…guys…”

Silence.

“Okay, we don’t have to be best friends or anything,” said Micky. “Like I said, we’ve got eight miles to the bridge. From there, Davy and I are heading north to wine country and you’re free to go… wherever. Just make sure if there’s any trouble, well, you know what to do. And remember, we’re the ones who got you out of this hellhole… so you owe us.”

More silence.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then. Let’s go.”

At the shelter…

The homeless man staggered to the entrance door and pressed the buzzer. The intercom crackled “Can I help you?”

“Rick, it’s me… Joe. You gotta let me in.”

“You know the rules, Joe. We’re full up tonight. You’ve got to head over to—“

“No! Let me in, please! I saw something…”

“… sure… what did you see?”

“You’re not gonna believe me… call the police… I gotta talk to somebody…”

“Police? Are you…did those damn kids beat you again?”

“Call the police! I’m not kiddin.”

“Okay. Okay already.” The door clicked open.

Back at the bridge…

“That was close!” said Micky. “Did you get a whiff of that guy… I thought I was gonna puke!”

The sound of sirens was more distinct now… a lot of sirens. And they were getting closer.

“Micky, look up at the bridge. Looks like they’ve got the road blocked!”

Sure enough, red and blue lights flashed into the darkness at the near end of the bridge. There was no way to get through.

“I was afraid this might happen. Well, we’ve got to get across. It’s our only chance,” said Micky. “Question is, are you guys up for it?”

Silence. Then the two giants hesitantly took a step or two towards the water, and looked back over their shoulders. More lights appeared to be approaching on the roadway leading to the park under the bridge. They waded into the water, and waited.

“This is it, Davy. It’s time for Plan B. Just remember, hang on no matter what.”

They walked into the water together. Sirens blared as the car lights pierced the fog, ever closer. Only seconds away now. Four cars skidded to a stop on the roadway some thirty feet away. Doors flew open and the officers leapt out into position. Two men with rifles took aim. But it was too late.

“Damnation!” said one of the men. “Hold your fire. They’re already too far out. We’ll have to set up on the other side.”

The next day…

After a hot breakfast provided by the staff, Joe left the shelter early the next day. Those were the rules… no hanging around. But he didn’t mind. It wasn’t too bad out and he preferred the open air anyway. Too many damn rules inside. He walked back to his favorite park under the bridge; maybe there was still something left in the bottle he dropped when he saw… them. He walked towards the bench and noticed another early riser had left the morning newspaper. Sitting down, he raised his face to the breeze and drank in the salty air. There was still a good mist over the water. What a feeling. He picked up the paper and with wide eyes read the lead story, complete with pictures of the very spot where he sat.

The Great Escape

Officials from the San Francisco Zoo are in the hot-seat as four animals are still missing after last night’s security breach. Apparently one of the handlers was overpowered inside the Primate enclosure at approximately 7 p.m. The handler was found in the centre of the new interactive play zone, secured by a rope that had somehow come loose from the popular “swinging tire” the primates interacted with. The handler is currently suspended pending further review as he apparently also neglected to lock the door to the South American sloth exhibit. Fortunately the sloth, perhaps one of the slowest-moving of the mammals, was retrieved without resistance just steps outside the open door of his habitat enclosure.

Eight adult male chimpanzees were recovered from the zoo grounds within a few hours of the breach. But the whereabouts of two additional chimpanzees is still unknown. They were last seen in the vicinity of the park below the south end of the Golden Gate Bridge, as wildlife officers attempted to sedate the animals with tranquilizer darts.

Two large adult male polar bears are also still unaccounted for. The bears are known to be exceptional swimmers and residents near the water on both sides of the bridge have been notified to keep all pets and children inside until further notice. Police reported an unusual number of 911 calls from people claiming to have seen the bears swimming under the bridge “with chimps clinging to their backs.” Officials immediately refuted these stories as ridiculous and are warning that any further waste of emergency resources will be subject to prosecution and heavy fines.

Somewhere in wine country…

“Hey Davy. Peel me another grape, will ya?”

“Ha ha, very funny. Do it yourself. By the way, what was the deal with the code names anyway… you never said?”

“Just a little joke. This kid used to come in with his dad every weekend and watch us playing in the yard… remember?”

“Sure, every Saturday. So what?”

“I heard them talking about some old rock band that used to have their own TV show. The dad was pointing at us and telling the kid we reminded him of this show for some reason.”

“… and…”

“The four guys in it were Micky, Davy, Peter and Mike. They were called The Monk—”

“Yeah, but we’re not—”

“I know, but that’s what makes it so funny.”

“I don’t get it.”

“I’ll explain it later. Have another grape.”