No one wants to admit they’re dumb. In fact, one of the central aspects of stupidity is a complete lack of self-awareness. I’m just smart enough to know how stupid I am. Which means I’m mostly harmless to others, but a menace to myself.

How many mistakes had led to my present predicament? Poor choice in friends. Inconsistent compromises. Unwarranted bravado that led me to read that book.

The culvert. Sticking my head in the wall. Ditching the only person who claimed to have my back. Dumb! Dumb! Dumb!

I’m fucking dumb.

The hallway was wide enough to fit a car and lined with concrete, like a bunker. Fluorescent bulbs spaced every few feet separated by shadow. My shoes made a clapping sound as I ran. My sprained ass hurt. The air smelled like abandonment.

This was stupid. Another dumb mistake, one I now truly feared could get me killed. They had already framed a suspect for my murder. My dumb mistakes would land Caspian in prison, maybe death row. Damn, if only I’d suffered through Moby Dick instead of provoking this crazy asshole.

Running blind like this would get me nowhere fast. So I stopped; listened. Heard a faint buzzing sound, the hush of trapped air. No footsteps, though. Yet.

Six sets of doors branched off the hallway, three on each side. Placards were hung beside each door but I didn’t pause to read them. A roll-up garage door was at the very end of the walkway – a gaping eye drawn on its front like on the back of a dollar bill. Always watching. This Professor O was a Peeping Tom.

I heard the door from the surveillance room open and close. Saw the man I had hit with the chair enter the hallway. He had a purple lump on his forehead and blood was leaking from his nose. Our eyes met – my body was prepared to fight or flee, but I wanted a third option – then he reached out toward the wall and everything went dark. Coffin dark. So dark I had to hunker down and hold my arms out for balance.

His shoes clapped against the concrete as he stalked toward me, not worrying about stealth. A calm, steady pace. I told my body to move, but it wouldn’t. My signals were misfiring. Advance? Retreat? Attack? Flee? To where?

Meanwhile the man kept coming, closing the distance by half, his footsteps growing louder. Silently, I shuffled sideways and flattened my back against the wall, holding my breath as I slid toward the man coming my way, hoping to sneak past him and.… Well, I didn’t know what. I was acting on pure survival instincts. Same as prey.