The bad news: The guards on the other side of the fence were as protected as we were. They are still standing under us, still aiming their guns at us. Given the stress they are under—what with all their friends out cold on the other side and bombs going off (okay, it is only one bomb so far)—I am afraid they might just open fire and ask questions later.
We are frozen in place, waiting to be torn apart by hot steel bullets. All watching the guards, waiting. It is horrible. An eternity in hell wouldn’t be worse than these ten seconds. Or maybe it is only five. I don’t know—all I know is it is bad.
The next bomb hits a building across the street from the Pen, directly beyond our section of fence. A maelstrom of glass and rock rubble rains down upon the guards and they do what any other well-trained officers of a fine juvenile delinquent facility would do when three of their guests are trying to escape: they run. For good measure, they even throw down their guns to allow themselves to run faster. I’ve never understood the expression turned tail and ran until now. If the guards had tails, they most definitely would’ve turned just before they took off.
For the first time I wonder where the hell the bombs are coming from. When the first one hit the fence I was too shocked to think about the why or the who—plus I still had guns aimed at my head—but after the second blast I start thinking. My guesses are: 1) sun dweller military are attacking our subchapter because we only pay 80 percent taxes instead of 82 percent; 2) fed up, underpaid miners have gone crazy and are determined to destroy everything in sight; or 3) other Pen inmates have managed to get their hands on incendiaries and are shooting them off from the roof.
Cole swings his leg over the top and starts climbing down the other side. I am still frozen in place, trying to process all that has happened. As I watch Cole shimmy down, I can see the hole in the building in the background. The scorching hole is about three times his size, making him look extremely fragile and exposed all alone on his side of the fence. Not that Tawni or I are any more protected.
I am glad Tawni is there, because I’m not thinking clearly. I am ready to continue my ascent to the top of the fence, to finish what we started, carry out the original plan, when she brushes past me, heading back down on the Pen side of the fence.
“C’mon, this way, Adele,” she says.
Duh. Why fight gravity and barbed wire when we can go through the fence? Given a full fifth of the fence has been toppled, it will be far easier to just walk straight out.
We make it down without incident and climb over the mangled fence. We fight through a few nests of barbed wire, but it isn’t too difficult. Just as we get on the street side of the fence, Cole is running toward us. Alarms begin whooping in the background, coming from the Pen. Jailbreak alarms. For us. The jailbreakers.
We run. We run because we are worried about the alarms and the guards that will surely pour from the Pen as a result. We should be more worried about the bombs.
BOOM!
Hot stone shrapnel drills me in the cheek, snapping my head to the side. I see Cole and Tawni get pelted by similar flying projectiles, but none of us so much as considers stopping to check for serious injuries. I think we all know that the only thing to do is keep running, to try to get as far away from the commercial district as possible. Whoever is blasting away isn’t showing any signs of stopping anytime soon.
It is weird—the way the night can be lit up so brightly and quickly and then just as quickly return to darkness, lit only by the soft glow of the streetlights. That’s the way our run goes. Flash! And then dark. BOOM! And then silence. It is eerie, like we are in a war or something, bombs exploding all around us as we literally run for our lives.
The thundering explosions fade and the manufactured lightning grows distant as we escape the city limits, moving into the sparsely populated suburbs. None of us speak as we continue running, making our way around the huge stone columns that help support the cavern roof. I’m not sure how far or how long we run, or why we finally stop when we do. I think we all just stop at the same time, like robots, perfectly synchronized, slipping behind a high stone wall that rings one of the houses.
I’m breathing heavily—Tawni is, too. I’m out of shape. There isn’t much use for exercise inside the Pen. My mind is racing; my side is hurting. I feel a twinge of pain on my cheek and I flinch. Pressing a hand to my face, I feel the sticky wetness of drying blood. I guess the rock hit me harder than I thought.
“Do you…think…we’re safe?” I pant, directing the question at whoever has enough energy to listen.
Tawni hunches over, trying to catch her breath. Evidently she is as out of shape as I am. Cole, on the other hand, has apparently kept up his fitness while on the inside. He doesn’t even seem winded.
“I expect we’re all right,” he says, glancing to his right and left, as if they might be surrounding us any second. “Especially given everything else that’s happening.”
Everything else. If only we knew what everything else is.
“What do you think is happening?” I say.
Cole laughs. “Uh, I think our subchapter is getting bombed to hell and back again.” He laughs again.
“No kidding,” I say. “I meant who do you think is doing it? And why?”
“Another one of my guys,” he says. “I paid a little extra to get a small diversion to ensure we’d get away.”
A day earlier, before I knew him at all, I might have believed him. Not anymore. “Lie,” I say. “Is now really the time for sarcasm?” Despite myself, I smile. “Are we really free?”
Tawni’s breath is mostly back. She rises to her full height, once more towering over me. “For the moment we are,” she says. “As long as we don’t do anything stupid and get ourselves caught.”
I hope we don’t. My mind is clearing and already I am analyzing the situation. It is like a puzzle. There are certain tasks we need to complete, in a certain order, and wrapped around them all is the requirement that we can’t get caught. The first task is obvious.
“We need to get rid of these tunics,” I say.
Cole smirks. “Yeah, I was thinking going naked was a good idea. They’d never expect it.” He starts to raise his tunic over his head, revealing his strong dark legs and a pair of tight, black briefs.
“That’s more than I wanted to see,” I say, looking away. Really I am thinking that he looks pretty good under the gaudy prisoner’s tunic. I’m not attracted to him or anything, but I don’t mind looking at him.
When I look back he’s lowered his tunic and is winking at me. I smile the first real smile I have in a long time. It feels natural, easy, like life is good, full of good friends, good fun, good times. It feels really…really good. I cover it with a hand and wipe it away. Things are still too messed up for smiles.
“Where are we going to get different clothes?” Tawni asks. “I mean, I’ve got money, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea to walk into a shop wearing these.”
“Yeah, plus we’ll be public enemy number one after the breakout. Our faces will be plastered all over town,” I say.
“Do you think so?” Tawni says, suddenly looking excited. “I would die to see my parents’ faces when they see me on the news!”
“I knew I should’ve had them retake my mug shot,” Cole says. “I think I blinked during the first one.”
“No amount of retakes would be able to help you,” I say dryly.
Cole stares at me, his eyes widening and his mouth opening wide to form an O. “My gosh, Adele. Was that…was that a joke? Well played.”
I play-punch him in the arm and am surprised when he winces. At first I think he is kidding, but then I notice the slight tear in his tunic. “Are you hurt?” I ask.