Break Out (Supernatural Prison Trilogy Book 3) Page 9

  My mom—and possibly my dad—made the most sense, especially after overhearing Heath’s conversation yesterday. His brother apparently worked at her office, so they could have been in communication through him. Except one thing didn’t make sense. Heath would know that I did lie low yesterday.

  I still couldn’t believe I stood by and watched three fellow inmates—four, counting Dane—fight in ruthless and utterly senseless matches. I wasn’t even the one shedding sweat and blood, and I felt so dirty I needed a shower afterward.

  And if Heath wanted to tell me something, why send Cathy a note to relay to everyone else? He could have either somehow told me in the conversation with the guard or sometime privately.

  I shook my head, trying to work out what I thought and what I knew. Then a deep suspicion lodged in my mind.

  Fletcher called me “Alexander,” too. If I didn’t know it before yesterday, I now knew that he was way into theatrics. I could see him recruiting a guard or two to play the part of “insiders,” telling us help was on the way, to lie low, etcetera, etcetera. Then, like all his Draconian measures were designed to do, we’d do exactly what he said for however long he said it.

  Meanwhile, no one was coming for us.

  Assuming Mr. Fletcher was behind all of this, shouldn’t that eliminate the possibility that Heath was the messenger? Out of all the guards, he was the most likely to help us out.

  But it wasn’t like Fletcher would have given him a choice. Maybe his life—and his brother’s life—was on the line. If so, then why the conversation with the guard?

  “Hey, are you done in there or what?” Venom called out.

  “Yeah, just a sec.”

  My mind was spinning in circles, so I turned the faucet on in the small metal sink and splashed freezing cold water on my face. That helped some. Then I stared at my reflection in the mirror.

  I’d lost weight. Between lower food rations—some of which I’d given away—and no longer working out or playing sports, I wasn’t filled out the way I used to be. Sure, I could gain it back if we got out of here—

  When. When we got out of here.

  Help or no help, we couldn’t continue living this way. Morale among the inmates was at an all-time low. It was obvious by the way they looked and walked and talked that they’d all but given up. Had I?

  Was it possible I’d become paranoid? We’d receive our first indication that the outside world hadn’t forgotten about us, and in my mind, I’d twisted the good news into something nefarious. There was nothing wrong with being cautious, but distrusting everyone’s motives wasn’t me.

  Well, it wasn’t who I used to be.

  As I wiped my hands on the towel, I decided it was probably best not to tell my friends about Heath’s conversation until I figured out what his intentions were. No sense getting their hopes up for what could amount to nothing. In the meantime, I’d take the messenger’s advice and lie low. For now.

  I didn’t feel great about this decision, but what choice did I have? None, that’s what. Therefore, I left the bathroom unsettled, but I put my game face on in order to deal with whatever fresh hell was in store for us today.

  At breakfast, I noticed Lucy sitting alone in the corner, completely isolated from everyone else in the room. That was quite the feat given how many teenagers were packed in this cafeteria. I had the impression it wasn’t by choice.

  Phoebe, who looked a bit stronger today, spread her grits out in a thin layer. Idly, I wondered if she thought they were going to taste better that way.

  Spoiler alert: they weren’t.

  My gaze flicked to Lucy again. “You’re feeling sorry for her, aren’t you?” Phoebe asked.

  “A little,” I said, shoving a mouthful of mush in my mouth.

  I really wasn’t in the mood to talk this morning. And it wasn’t because my thoughts were still a jumbled mess… though that was certainly part of the reason.

  After the multiple matches yesterday, they’d kept us so busy I’d almost forgotten the way Phoebe had pulled away from me when Dane saw us together between fights. What was that all about? I wanted to know, but now wasn’t the time to ask her about it. Too many ears around us.

  Phoebe wasn’t bothered by that, apparently. “Why do you feel sorry for her?” she asked. “You saw what she did yesterday.”

  I swallowed my bite. “It wasn’t like she had a choice. None of them did.”

  Phoebe’s eyebrows drew together. “Yeah, but she enjoyed it.”

  That was true. Lucy had appeared to relish the opportunity to unleash her power on someone. Maybe I wasn’t too broken up about it since the person whose mind she messed with was Dane.

  I should have just agreed with Phoebe and continued eating, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to get a dig in about the guy who got on my last nerve.

  “She wasn’t the only one who enjoyed it,” I pointed out.

  Phoebe looked affronted. “He may have at first, but by the end, Dane did not look happy at all.”

  “True,” Tex chimed in. “But that was because Lucy had just played Scrabble with his brain.”

  I fought back a smile that would have really ticked Phoebe off. Instead, I told her about the conversation I had with Lucy in the rec room yesterday. Maybe that would endear her to Phoebe.

  “She wants to help me?” Phoebe asked, both eyebrows raised high on her forehead.

  Or maybe not.

  Shrugging, I said, “Seems that way.” Then I scarfed down more of my breakfast.

  Cathy pointed her spoon at Phoebe. “It wouldn’t be a bad idea to get back in her good graces after whatever-it-was she did yesterday.”

  Phoebe turned to Cathy, incredulous. “Are you forgetting what she did to me? I can’t even count how many times I died because of her!”

  To all of our surprises, Tex burst out laughing. Phoebe looked even more slighted. “That wasn’t supposed to be funny,” she muttered.

  “Yeah, but it kind of was,” he said between chuckles. “If anyone overheard you say that…”

  Rocky, who’d been quiet up until now, joined the conversation. “Lucy might have been scared,” she said. “I mean, I wouldn’t have been, but if you’d been having secret conversations in the middle of the night with your mom—the warden—you can bet we’d have had words about it.”

  “Yeah, she was probably just scared,” Birdie added.

  Phoebe turned to her. “Et tu, Birdie?” But there was no bite to it. It was impossible to be mad at Birdie.

  Birdie looked confused. She probably hadn’t gotten to Shakespeare in school before they took her. It triggered a memory of sitting in class with Phoebe just a few desks away. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her then, nor could I now.

  Except now she was looking a little peeved, and it was pretty funny.

  “None of you guys made a big deal over it,” she mumbled.

  “We’ve known you longer,” Tex said simply.

  After a minute, Phoebe sighed. “I’ll think about it.” And she did, in fact, appear to be mulling it over.

  I peeked over at Lucy again. She still sat alone, staring stoically ahead while she ate. Then I turned back to Phoebe. “Well, while you’re thinking about it, I’m going to let her know I told you so she knows I kept my word. Plus, she looks like she could use someone to talk to,” I said, looking around the table at my friends. Hoping they got the message.

  No one should be alone right now. Not here. Not with all we had to go through. Life at Lansing was bearable because of these guys. Without them, I wasn’t sure how I’d have stayed sane at this place.

  After drinking the last sip of my milk, I stood, dumped my tray in the trash, and strode over to Lucy’s table. She eyed me suspiciously as I sat down across from her.

  No less than three guards watched us closely, but they all kept their distance. Before yesterday, I would have thought they were keeping an eye on me. Now, I wasn’t so sure.

  “I, uh, just wanted to say you did great yesterday,” I told
her. That wasn’t what I was going to say at all. Where did that come from?

  She smiled proudly. “I’d overheard Dane once, saying he couldn’t play zombie video games ‘cause they creeped him out. Easy-peasy.”

  “Yikes. Remind me to never tell you what creeps me out.” My voice suddenly caught in my throat as I remembered our conversation yesterday. She’d asked about Phoebe’s fears, and though we’d talked about spiders and snakes, I didn’t recall telling her anything specific.

  “You’d only have to worry about that if you face me in a match,” Lucy joked. At least I hoped it was a joke. I really didn’t know her, and certainly not well enough to read into what she said.

  I glanced around, noticing the looks aimed my way while sitting with Lucy. At a table not far away, I spotted Dane with his usual entourage. I didn’t get it. Girls swooned over him, and guys idolized him. Yesterday’s loss hadn’t diminished that at all.

  Lucy was popular girl material. She could have easily been the most popular girl at my old school. With her win yesterday, she should have been the queen bee in the cafeteria instead of Dane. What gives?

  As I watched Dane—the guy who gave me a run for my money in the power department—I recalled how terrified he was while lost in Lucy’s vision. Then the answer struck me all at once.

  Everyone was scared of Lucy. In fact, her power was easily the most terrifying one of all. Under normal circumstances, people would have gravitated toward someone powerful in search of a protective ally. But Lucy couldn’t provide protection—only the possibility of devastation. Her ability was as much a curse as it was a gift, especially where her social life was concerned.

  “Have you asked Phoenix about me helping her yet?” she asked, pulling me from thoughts.

  “Oh, yeah. Just now,” I said. “She said she’d think about it.”

  Lucy frowned.

  “I’m sure she’ll let you know soon,” I added. “Phoebe just needs to get used to the idea that you’re not out to get her.”

  “I suppose,” she said, pressing her lips together.

  “Maybe if you…” I hesitated, and then finally just spit it out. “Have you thought about apologizing to her?”

  “Why would I?” Lucy shot back. “She was the one hiding things.”

  “For her own safety,” I reminded her.

  Lucy rolled her eyes. “Phoebe can’t die. Why would she be concerned about safety?”

  My jaw slackened at her lack of empathy. I was beginning to see why Phoebe didn’t trust her cellmate… and maybe I shouldn’t either. But I was going to set the record straight.

  “She can die,” I clarified. “And she feels fear and pain just the like the rest of us. If you can’t see that, then Phoebe’s right to stay away from you.”

  Lucy scowled. It made her otherwise attractive face look ugly. Having nothing left to say to her, I stood and headed toward the cafeteria to await my cleaning duty assignment.

  I was scoping out the room in search of Heath when the bell rang. No sign of him, and the guards in charge told us we were being escorted to our cells first today. That was different.

  Once locked in, I paced around the room in circles. Any changes in schedule these days made me nervous. Were they going to skip cleaning duty so they could fit in more matches? I hoped not. My ability to lie low was tested enough yesterday, and there was no telling what insane pairings Fletcher might make today. All I knew was that the inmates had better be evenly matched.

  The guards passed by our cell, collecting inmates for their various tasks. No one stopped to get us.

  “Maybe we get a free day!” Venom said, jumping onto his bed and dancing a little jig.

  I highly doubted that, but I hated to burst his happy bubble.

  Listening closely, it sounded like they’d rounded up all the other inmates. I finally retreated to my bed and sat down. But I didn’t get too comfortable. I’d been around the block long enough to know this breather wouldn’t last.

  Sure enough, two guards appeared within minutes. “Let’s go, Venom,” one said, and unlocked the cell door.

  Venom hopped to his feet. “See ya,” he said, heading out with a skip in his step that really shouldn’t have been there.

  “Later, dude,” I called to his retreating form.

  Dude. I sounded like Cal just then.

  I missed seeing the carefree Californian every day. Now I only saw him and Cooper if we had the same cleaning duty. I didn’t mind not seeing Dane—

  Wait, Dane was in our lunch today. Had anyone else switched rotations? That was weird…

  But not as weird as how it felt being all alone right now. I couldn’t remember the last time this had happened. It was eerie, not just because I was alone but locked up in a prison cell alone. My breath was too loud in my ears, so I got up again and paced. Better. At least I had my footsteps to listen to.

  I recalled thinking earlier about how I might have gone insane here without my friends. After just a few minutes of solitude, I knew I would.

  Why was I left behind? I didn’t believe for a minute Fletcher was giving me the day off.

  I’d walked several miles in circles and taken a nap before I got my answers. Heath and Saul arrived, Saul sneering at me through the metal bars. “Let’s go, Chief,” he said.

  Smoke billowed into my face and began filling the room. Heath rolled his eyes while mine watered. I fought a cough… and lost.

  “Where are we going?” I choked out.

  Saul opened the cell door. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  I trailed after him, Heath taking up the rear. If Saul wasn’t around, it would have been the perfect opportunity to find out whose side Heath was on. Of course, nothing was ever that easy. And if he was trying to help us, I couldn’t blow his cover.

  They led me down several corridors until we arrived at a set of doors I’d never seen before. “Wait here,” Saul barked, opening one and shoving me inside unnecessarily. The room was empty.

  The door slammed closed behind me, and once again, I was all alone.

  Looking around, I saw two chairs in the corner of the room. Other than that, it was completely bare. There weren’t even any furnishings besides the chairs, and not so much as a clock on the wall. Like the offices I’d cleaned, there wasn’t a window to look out of. Not even a frosty one.

  Nerves crawled up my throat. I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants, and since I had no idea how long I’d wait, I sat down in a chair.

  The waiting and unknowns were their own type of torture. Taking deep breaths, I was determined not to let the silence and isolation get to me. That said, I couldn’t help thinking about the slippery slope of my sanity again.

  And I had a lot of time to think about it.

  After a while, I got up and started walking again. The room was significantly bigger than my cell, so I might as well get some more exercise while I waited.

  It was hours later when the door finally opened and Fletcher entered the room. Nash and Warrick trailed closely behind and stood guard at the door.

  As he walked toward me, I got into character. All that time to myself gave me an opportunity to figure out the best way to play this. Fletcher was the warden, yes, but he was also a former neighbor and acquaintance of my parents. Maybe if I acted less like an inmate and more like my parents’ son, we could get somewhere.

  Where there was to get, I didn’t know.

  I sat up straighter. “Hi there,” I said as he took a seat across from me. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

  Okay, that was just cheesy. I was my father’s son, not my father.

  Fletcher didn’t crack a smile, nor did he return the niceties. His steel-gray eyes searched mine. “I want to ask a few routine questions.”

  “Sure. Go ahead.”

  “Have you had any contact with your parents recently?”

  His question surprised me. Did he know about my parents’ visit when I first arrived? I had to assume he did, and if he caught me in a lie, we wer
e going nowhere fast.

  “The last time I saw them was right after I got to Lansing. I assured them that I was fine,” I added quickly.

  “And did they believe you?” he asked, clearly not believing me.

  I thought back to that day. Phoebe’s mother had threatened to sic Warrick on my friends if I didn’t convince them, so I’d played along. Right up until my parents were about to leave, that is. I’d made an obscure reference to my father—too obscure, if his non-reaction had been any indication. And then they’d left. The only sign they might have picked up on the hint I’d dropped was the conversation Heath had with the guard. Since that was still iffy—

  “Yes, I’m certain they believed me.” Playing the part of the concerned son, I asked, “Why? Are they okay?”

  Fletcher ignored my questions. “Have you contacted anyone else outside the prison?”

  “How would I?” I asked genuinely. It was almost flattering he thought I could have pulled something like that off.

  “You tell me,” he snapped.

  This wasn’t going well. I needed to do a better job of buttering him up. “I’m being serious. You’ve done an amazing job of sealing this place up tight,” I said, laying it on thick. Too thick. His expression grew dubious. “Sure, the number of guards might be overkill. But honestly, I couldn’t imagine how anyone could make contact outside these walls.”

  He didn’t look entirely convinced. “Okay, has anyone contacted you?” he said. “Have you received any messages since you’ve been here?”

  I kept my expression neutral… but just barely. “No, I haven’t received any messages,” I said. Because I hadn’t. Cathy did.

  I was better at deception than I thought.

  “Are you telling me the truth?” he snarled. Or maybe not.

  Fletcher stood from his chair and now hovered over me, trying to appear threatening. But I could see right through him. His usual façade had cracked, and I could tell he was panicking about something. Bad for him, good for me.

  “Why would I lie?” I said calmly. “With all due respect, sir, you’ve got me by the balls. There’s no reason for me to lie to you.”

  His lips curled. “I think you know something you’re not telling me. Maybe some time spent in isolation will jog your memory.”