Break Out (Supernatural Prison Trilogy Book 3)

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Break Out (Supernatural Prison Trilogy Book 3) Page 10

by Aella Black


  No.

  Not that it was the worst punishment in the world, but I needed to talk to Heath sooner rather than later. Also, I couldn’t look out for Phoebe and our friends if I was in solitary for however long. And lastly, I’d already determined today that being alone was hazardous to my mental health.

  My mind worked frantically. What did he want me to say? “I had to give him something,” Phoebe had said following her interrogation. Would he bring her back in for questioning if I didn’t provide something useful? He’d killed her the last time, and I could not let that happen again. All I had to do was tell him something. Anything. But what?

  Come on, Xander…

  The lie came to me in all its cunning glory.

  “Oh,” I said, pretending I’d had a stunning revelation. “I do remember something that you may want to know.”

  “And what is that?” he asked, sitting back down. I had his attention at least.

  “When I met with my parents, Phoebe’s mother promised them that they could check up on me again in a few months. They should be due for another visit soon.”

  Fletcher’s jaw flexed. “Jane told them they could return?”

  “Yes, sir. I’d almost forgotten about that.” And it wasn’t like he could ask her if it’s true. “It was the only way they’d feel comfortable leaving me here.”

  “That woman,” Fletcher muttered under his breath.

  I held eye contact with him like my father taught me to do when you want someone to know you’re telling them the truth. Because this wasn’t a half-truth or a lie by omission. This was a straight-up story I just made up.

  One I hoped wouldn’t backfire spectacularly.

  Fletcher nodded at me. “Okay, I’m glad you told me, son.” My jaw tightened. I was not his son. “You can go now.”

  I stood immediately and walked to the door where Nash and Warrick waited for me.

  As we left the room and started down the hall, I silently cheered.

  The polite, son-of-politicians’ kid act worked. He took the bait, and now, if Fletcher attempted to contact my parents about the visit, by doing so, it might raise a red flag that something is wrong—if they didn’t already know. I still thought my first instinct about Heath’s conversation was right, and that parents really were worried. If so, this lie would at least buy us some time.

  Speaking of time…

  My stomach grumbled as we arrived at my cell. Once I entered, a quick look at the clock on the wall told me it was dinnertime. I’d already missed lunch today. I turned to let the guards know, but they’d already gone.

  Guess I’d have to wait until tomorrow to eat. I lay on my bed, wondering what I missed. I was especially curious who had to fight today and hoped it wasn’t any of my friends. Venom, the little chatterbox that he was, would fill me in on every detail when he got back.

  After a while, I could hear the stomping of feet up and down the hall as inmates returned from the cafeteria. Low chatter bounced off the walls. I stared at the ceiling and waited for Venom to return.

  He never did.

  9

  Phoebe

  I lay in bed, my eyes focused on nothing in particular, and worried.

  Xander hadn’t been at lunch or dinner. I’d looked for his cellmate to ask where he was, but no one had seen Venom either.

  I tried not to let worry gnaw at me, but it affected my appetite anyway. No one from our friend group had worked with him during cleaning duty, and we couldn’t find him at the matches. What kind of trouble had he gotten himself into?

  As I listened to Lucy shift restlessly on her bed, it occurred to me that maybe she might know where Xander was. After all, it seemed they were buddy-buddy now.

  I still couldn’t believe he went and sat with her at breakfast this morning. And that was after defending her, even though he knew she wasn’t my favorite person. What had gotten into him today?

  More importantly… where was he?

  Xander’s absence brought back memories from Leavenworth. He’d gone missing for days after getting in a fight with Wolf. Turned out, they’d put him in solitary. But to my knowledge, he hadn’t been in any trouble lately. Unless… maybe he and Wolf had gotten into it and none of us knew?

  It was worth talking to Lucy if I learned something that could ease my mind. Turning on my side to face her, I asked, “Did you see Xander today?”

  Silence, and then, “Who, Chief? You mean, after breakfast?”

  “Yeah.”

  Another pause. “Now that you mention it, I didn’t see him around.”

  Well, that wasn’t helpful. I turned back to face the ceiling and tried falling asleep. It was hard, knowing what awaited me each night.

  The nightmares had become more vivid, and now I remembered almost every detail. The smell of smoke from a fire, the slither of snakes around my feet, the drip of sweat on my brow. Even after waking, I thought I saw shifting shadows and heard the sharpening of knives. The memories of what happened in each dream stuck with me throughout the day, making me anxious than I’d ever been.

  Lucy’s bed creaked, and then I heard, “Chief—uh, Xander—told me you said you’d think about my offer.”

  I frowned at the ceiling. Just hearing her say Xander’s name made the knot in my chest tighten. “And how could you help?” I asked.

  “I can give you hallucinations before you fall asleep. Fill your mind with happy thoughts. Then maybe both of us could get some rest.”

  That didn’t sound like the Lucy who had been sharing my cell for the past few months. It sounded like the Lucy I first met, the one who didn’t know the warden was my mother.

  “Why would you do that for me?” I asked.

  She released a breath. “Because neither of us are going to get any sleep otherwise. Plus, I want to help,” she added, a little less sincerely.

  Silence stretched between us while I thought about her words and actions since the day we met. Lucy hadn’t been consistent, nor had she been kind. And maybe it was like she said and she just wanted to sleep without interruption, but I had no desire to have someone I couldn’t trust maneuvering in my mind.

  “Thank you for the offer, but no thanks,” I said, praying that would be the end of it.

  It wasn’t.

  “Why not?” she asked, her voice clipped. “Are you scared of me like everyone else?”

  “No. I just don’t want anyone in my head—including you.”

  “Wow. And here I was just trying to be nice.” I heard her turn over—away from me, I hoped—and huff loudly.

  The lights switched off shortly after that, and my eyes slowly adjusted to the dark. I wondered about the type of hallucinations Lucy could give me. It was hard to imagine anything happy right now. In fact, I bet they wouldn’t have even helped. My existence had been occupied by so much darkness, there was no way my brain would believe in something filled with light.

  Dread pressed against my chest. What kind of life was this? Dying and reviving in an endless loop, trapped in a prison-turned-circus. I had healing tears, but I needed to hide them. I didn’t know where my dad was… or even if he was alive. And now Xander was missing.

  All I wanted to do was sleep, but even that wasn’t a source of refuge anymore. Still, my body and my mind could only take so much, and soon I drifted off.

  I feel the lap of water along my ankles. My body sways and my stomach lurches at the bobbing motion, but looking around, there’s only darkness.

  I grip the bed, afraid I’ll fall in. My heart slams against my chest. “It’s only a nightmare,” I tell myself.

  Closing my eyes, I try to force myself to wake up. I hear a sound rippling through the water, and my eyes fly open. My breath hitches in my throat as I search my surroundings, but I see nothing.

  There’s a splash behind me, but I don’t look. There’s no point, because there’s nothing to see. I try to steady my breathing. “Come on, wake up.”

  Something bumps my bed, causing it to rock. I scream and turn ove
r, crouching on all fours, clutching the mattress for dear life. There’s another splash, and a voice cuts through the nothingness. “Phoebe!”

  My head snaps up. “Dad?”

  “Phoebe, help!”

  More splashing. It sounds like he’s in the water.

  “I’m coming!” I shout. “Hold on!”

  I look around for something to use as a paddle, but there’s nothing. I try breaking off one of the metal bedposts, but it’s impossible.

  “Phoebe, help!”

  Staring defiantly at the inky black, I take a deep breath and jump off the bed. Icy water envelops me, and I struggle to get back to the surface. When I finally reach it, I grip the side of my bed and kick.

  “Hold on!” I yell. “I’m coming!”

  But he doesn’t respond, and I don’t know which direction to go. Something brushes my legs, and I scramble back up on the bed, now dripping wet and shivering.

  Something pale hovers just beneath the surface of the water. As it floats up, I realize it’s a body… Xander’s body.

  “No!”

  His eyes are closed, his face pale and motionless. He could easily be sleeping, but I know he’s not.

  Another body floats next to his, and another scream catches in my throat. It’s Birdie, her hair billowing around her still face.

  Suddenly, they’re everywhere—Cathy, Tex, Cal, Rocky, Cooper, Dane… even my mom. All staring at me with unseeing eyes.

  I lean over, my hand reaching for Xander. Just before I touch his fingertips, a hand shoots out of the water and grabs my wrist. I scream again, wrenching back.

  Mr. Fletcher emerges from the water, a maniacal grin stretching across his face. “Come join us, Phoebe.”

  I try to pull away from his iron grip. “Let me go!”

  But he tugs hard, and I lose my balance. I’m falling over, the water rushing up toward me—

  I shot upright and gasped for breath. My heart hammered in my ears. Glancing down, I noticed my shirt was soaked through. As if I’d been in the—

  Looking around wildly, I saw that it was still dark, but there were no signs of my family or friends anywhere. Then my gaze focused on Lucy. She hadn’t been in my dream, but she was glaring at me from where she lay on her bed. I didn’t blame her.

  My throat was so dry I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even swallow. I glanced at the clock on the wall. Three a.m.

  Damp, cold, and trembling, I picked up my pillow and pulled it to my chest. Then I lay back down. But I wasn’t going back to sleep. Not with the image of those bodies fresh in my mind.

  My chest constricted when I realized I never found Dad and that he likely drowned. Was this my subconscious telling me that my father was dead? Had he survived any of my dreams?

  I squeezed my pillow, trying to control my breathing. Tears flowed freely down my cheeks. My eyes were heavy—so heavy—yet sleep still wouldn’t come.

  A light flickered at the edge of my vision, and I turned to look where I knew the metal bars were. I couldn’t see anything, but I had the sense that someone was watching me. I held my breath. “Hello?” I whispered on an exhale.

  No response. I peered into the darkness, and I could have sworn a figure stood there, silently watching. I got out of bed and creeped closer toward the bars. “Who’s there?”

  Again, no response. The longer I stared, the more I realized that whatever I had seen had been a trick of the low light. So why couldn’t I shake off the sense that someone was watching me?

  I felt paranoid. Was I paranoid? Could someone be paranoid about being paranoid?

  Climbing back in bed, I put the pillow over my face this time. I didn’t trust my eyes, since every little shadow was freaking me out. But, even in complete darkness, I couldn’t go to sleep.

  Hours later, the lights switched on, and I groaned. It was going to be a really long day.

  At breakfast, the first relief in what felt like ages came in the form of Xander, sitting at a table alone. I knew our friends were behind me in line, but at least I’d have a few minutes with him before they joined us.

  Although he looked like he hadn’t slept much either, at least he was here. And alive. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and never let go.

  Instead, I set my tray down next to his. “What happened to you yesterday?” I asked.

  He turned to me, his eyes searching mine. For what, I didn’t know. Finally, he said, “Fletcher decided it was my turn for an interrogation.”

  I frowned, taking in his appearance. “Are you hurt?”

  Now he was the one frowning. “No… why would I be?” he asked, dragging the words out as he said them.

  I shrugged, focusing on the food in front of me. Xander had already polished his off. They must not have fed him since breakfast yesterday. Withholding food was one interrogating method. I’d encountered another.

  I felt my chin being gently lifted and then turned in his direction. “Phoebe, what happened when Fletcher asked you questions? You told me he killed you… is that it?”

  Looking in his eyes, I told him the truth. His face distorted in pain. “He-he cut you?”

  “Who cut who?” Rocky sat on the other side of me.

  Before turning to greet my friend, I attempted a smile and whispered, “I’m fine now, but thank you for caring.”

  To my surprise, he let it go. But I noticed his eyes focused on my face, even when the conversation wasn’t about me. Everyone took turns telling him about yesterday’s matches. Except me… I did my best just to stay awake. Before I knew it, lunch was over.

  As the day progressed, my head grew fuzzier and my eyes started playing tricks on me. Everyone’s faces looked waxy and gray. Like they were half-dead.

  Shadows teased me from every corner of every room. Something was there. I just didn’t know what. But when I turned to see what it was, there truly was nothing there.

  I wondered if Mr. Fletcher had me followed. He’d interrogated me, followed by Xander. If he didn’t get the info he was looking for, would he have someone monitoring us? That would explain the tickle on the back of my neck at every turn.

  By the end of the day, I was dead on my feet. As I walked with the other inmates toward our cells, my gaze caught on a figure standing at the far end of a hall. Before I could get a good look, he ducked around the corner and out of view. But I recognized that sand-colored hair. The shape of his head. That beard.

  Dad.

  My heart leapt into my throat. “Dad!” I pushed past the other inmates, not caring who I had to shove out of my way to catch up with him.

  I burst into the hallway he’d entered, just in time to see him walking around another corner. That had to be him—it had to be!

  I sprung forward to follow, but suddenly, two guards were by my side. “Where do you think you’re going?” Saul snarled, grabbing onto my arm. Heath held my other arm. They dragged me backward as I twisted and turned, trying to rip free from their grip.

  “No, wait—stop! Dad!”

  The man that looked like my father didn’t return. I fought against Saul and Heath with everything I had, but I was running on fumes. Everything I had wasn’t much.

  Desperation clawed up my chest. “Let me go! Let me see him!”

  “In your cell, Phoenix,” Heath said quietly.

  “Stop squirming, or we’ll tase you,” Saul threatened. Smoke billowed from his mouth, choking me.

  But I wasn’t about to let my dad walk away again. I needed to see and talk to him. To know he was still alive. To know I wasn’t imagining him.

  “Please!” I begged, but Saul had had enough.

  “Shut up!” He hit me with his taser square in the chest. I shuddered and crumpled to the ground, Heath’s strong arms the only thing keeping me from sprawling all over the floor. He picked me up and carried me to my cell, placing me on my bed with far more care than I expected.

  Then I was alone, with only my thoughts for company. And what terrible company they were.

  Was I losing my
mind? There was no good reason my father would be wandering the halls of Lansing prison. And if for some crazy reason he was, he would have responded to me.

  Had I been seeing things? It felt like my mind had played tricks on me all day. Maybe I hadn’t seen my dad. Chances were, I was finally losing my grip on reality.

  Problem was, if my dreams weren’t safe—and neither was my reality—where was left for me?

  10

  Xander

  Seeing Phoebe look so haggard yesterday—and again, this morning—had me worried. Of course, worrying about her was nothing new. But this time I actually had cause for alarm.

  She barely spoke with our friends at breakfast, and her eyes were so bloodshot, it looked like she was hopped up on something. She appeared to have lost weight, a scary sight for someone who didn’t have weight to lose. And now I found out she’d been hiding the fact that Fletcher tortured her during his interrogation. What else was she hiding?

  Today, I was assigned to pull weeds in the outdoor rec yard. Best job I’ve had so far. And after being cooped up all day yesterday in near-seclusion, it was just what I needed. Now, the only time we’re allowed out here was during forced marches. It was strange to think of the days when we could spend free time outside as the “good ol’ days.”

  At Leavenworth, it felt like we were being jailed for petty crimes. Rec time, access to television… a library. Those were all things of the past. Lansing seemed more like the type of place they’d lock up serial killers and mass murderers, which was exactly how they treated us.

  I was still thinking about Phoebe when I spotted a few dandelions and small wildflowers. I stowed away a few in the pocket of my jumpsuit. If any of the guards noticed, they said nothing. Either that, or none of the inmates had the ability to transform flowers to weapons,

  When lunchtime rolled around, I was first at our table again. I’d started getting here as quickly as possible hoping to have a few minutes alone with Phoebe before the others arrived. Today, it worked.

 

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