by Elle Thorpe
I didn’t point out that there was a real chance if I walked out there, I wouldn’t come back. I’d been in a riot before. Not here, but it had gone down much the same. Section by section taken over until the entire prison had been overrun.
Prisoners had died. Officers had died. Rory had—
Mae shook me so hard my teeth rattled. An errant tear rolled down her cheek. “You have to go. Please.”
I stared at her, the desperation in her eyes, and saw her in a different light. She was suddenly braver and fiercer than I’d given her credit for. She knew she wasn’t going to be an asset in this fight, so she wasn’t insisting she come with me. But she was brave enough to stay here by herself, more worried about her friend than her own safety.
It was probably foolish, but it was courageous. I respected the hell out of that.
“Please go,” she whispered. “I already lost my sister. Tori is all I have left. I can’t lose her, too.”
There was so much raw emotion in her voice that it wrapped its way around my gut and squeezed. It seeped into my bones and connected with my own old hurts, meshing together and growing stronger as a result.
I knew what it was to lose everything. Everyone.
I wasn’t going to let that happen to her.
I knew how hard it was to pick up the pieces afterward. I knew what it was to be so devastated that even breathing hurt. I knew what it was to want to end it all.
I couldn’t let that pain consume her the way it consumed me. Because somewhere along the line, she’d become a bright spark in my life. And selfishly, I wasn’t ready to let that spark go out just yet.
I made the decision.
“You get yourself in that very back corner. Cover up with boxes in case someone does get in here, okay? I’m going to lock the door from the outside when I leave, but there’s an emergency handle on this side, so you can override it at any time. But you don’t come out, Mae. You hear me? You do not come out for anything or anyone.” I grabbed her by the arms and stared down at her.
Even in that moment, I was overwhelmed by how beautiful she was. And by the creeping feeling that maybe some tiny part of me cared about her.
Fuck. I was lying even to myself. It wasn’t a tiny part of me. It was a big part. And it cared enough that it propelled me forward, holding her closer, afraid to let her go for fear this might be my only shot.
An insane urge to kiss her bore down on me. To close my eyes and slam my lips against hers. To hold her tight. Just once.
But that also opened up a cavern of agony inside me, and then the siren came again. Another call for help at the infirmary.
With more reluctance than I’d ever felt in my life, I stepped back toward the door. “I’ll come back for you, Mae. I swear it. Do not leave this room.”
She nodded, fierce determination in her eyes.
She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me, squeezing me.
I froze at her touch. And then, fuck me, I let my body respond. I wrapped my arms around her, hauling her close, and cradling the back of her head with my hand. I held her to my chest, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair and marveling at what it felt like to have her in my arms.
“Don’t you die out there,” she mumbled against my chest. “Or I swear to God, I’ll resurrect you just to kill you myself.”
I couldn’t help the tiny grin that flickered at my lips. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
I didn’t quite hear her muffled reply, as she turned her face into my shirt, but it sounded a lot like, “I think I want you to stick around for a while.”
I think I wanted that, too. And unable to stop myself, I lowered my lips to the top of her head.
Then I let her go.
I locked the storage closet door and walked out into the chaos of a disaster.
36
Rowe
I locked Mae in the storage closet with a rising sense of dread. Her classroom didn’t appear any different than when we’d first entered earlier that evening, but the noises from farther off inside the prison walls gave me chills. Screams. Shouts. Bangs and crashes.
I’d been here before, and it wasn’t a place I’d wanted to return to. How the hell had this happened? Though there was no possible way this could have been my fault, an old familiar guilt crushed down on me.
“No,” I murmured to myself. I wasn’t going back there. I wasn’t going to let my head get clouded with flashbacks and PTSD when there were people here who needed me. This wasn’t like last time. This didn’t have to have the same outcome.
It couldn’t.
I locked the classroom door behind me and then cautiously moved into the hallway. I looked left, then right, my hand hovering uselessly at my side. We didn’t carry guns. It wasn’t safe to. The only weapon I had here was a key ring pepper spray. I already knew that would be mostly useless in this sort of situation. You needed crowd control, not a one-on-one weapon that would only last for one prisoner. But it was better than nothing.
The hallway was empty. So I moved quickly and cautiously down toward the infirmary that joined the men’s prison to the women’s, snaking my way through empty corridor after empty corridor. My footsteps echoed in the muffled silence around me. But the farther I went, the louder the sounds from Gen Pop grew. With every step I took myself closer and closer to the danger zone.
But Mae’s desperation for her friend spurred me on. Perry would be there, too. And I knew as well as every other man in this prison, the two women in the middle of a riot would be like gold at the end of the rainbow. I could only pray they were as hidden as Mae was right now.
But the quicker I got to them and back to Mae, the better. I wasn’t going to feel okay about any of this until I got Mae out of here.
I stopped dead when a random prisoner stepped out of a side room. He blinked at me, seemingly as surprised to see me as I was to see him. I pulled out my pepper spray. “Get on the ground, prisoner.”
He eyed me, cocking his head to one side. “Nah, bro. How about you just come with me nicely. Boss said we need hostages. And while you aren’t the women I was sent to get, you’ll do.”
“You know that’s not going to happen.”
“You’re not the one in charge anymore. What I say goes now.”
He lunged at me, grabbing for the arm that held the pepper spray. But I was quicker. He caught a full face of fiery mist and then hit the deck hard, screaming and clutching his eyes.
I didn’t stop to cuff him. They were already in phase two, then. Shit. Phase one of a riot was an inciting incident. Something that happened, a fight or an organized attack that lit things up and got the prisoners all hot under the collar. Most disturbances ended there, with guards regaining control in the space of moments, or minutes at worst. But the fact these prisoners were now on the hunt for hostages meant they’d moved past that early critical stage, and the danger was only increasing with every second that passed. Hostages meant organization. Bringing in as many prisoners as they could, rounding up more guards, and taking control of more sections. They already had control of General Population, the biggest section of the prison by far. And now the infirmary. How many other sections did they control?
A sickening sense of déjà vu washed over me.
This was exactly what had happened at my last prison.
I took off running again. A new determination fueling my muscles. My pace increased with every corner, the sounds of the riots in the distance urging me to move faster. When I skidded around the corner closest to the infirmary, it was at a dead run.
Even from the hallway, the infirmary looked like a disaster zone. Smashed glass and broken bottles spilled out the doorway and into the hall. Sheets and blankets lay in a heap just inside, and as I entered the room, the blood smeared on the floor and wall send shock waves through my body. What the fuck had happened here?
“You stupid sluts! You can’t hide in there forever!”
I spun, laying eyes on a single prisoner trying to beat down
the bathroom door. My ears suddenly registered the terrified screams of the women inside. Bile rose in my throat. I could only pray that the two of them were locked inside alone, and not with one of this guy’s friends.
There was no sign of the priest.
“Get away from them.” I grabbed the now empty pepper spray from my belt and held it out like it was a gun, while desperately searching the room for something else I could use as a weapon if it came down to that. I didn’t want to hurt anyone seriously. Not even these prisoners. But if it was between them and the women, I knew who I’d choose.
The prisoner shot a glance over his shoulder at me, and then he laughed. “You aren’t in charge here anymore, Officer Pritchard. You picked the wrong side.”
I had no idea what he was talking about. It was the same thing the other man had said, which only made me surer that this had been an organized attack. “I said get away from the door, prisoner.”
The man finally stopped his banging and turned on me. “Or what?”
That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it? My spray was empty, and I had no other way of defending myself. So I was going to have to bluff. “Or I fill your eyes with this spray. You choose. Walk away and keep your eyesight, because you know nobody here is going to administer first aid in the middle of the riot. You’ll be waiting hours for treatment. You ever been pepper sprayed?” I didn’t wait for him to answer. “I have. And you know what it feels like?”
The man didn’t answer, so I just carried on anyway. “It feels like clawing your own eyes out with a rusted spoon. For hours on end, because even with medical attention, that shit burns like you dropped your eyes in acid. You want that? Or do you want to just walk away now and enjoy your tiny taste of freedom before we lock this place down again. Your choice.”
The man obviously wasn’t as dumb as he appeared because he listened. He edged around me warily, grabbing an armful of medical supplies and shoving them down his shirt before turning and stumbling out of the room.
I waited until I was sure he was gone, checking the hall in both directions, and then locking the main door before rushing back to the bathroom door and banging on it. “Perry! Tori! It’s me, Rowe. You can come out. He’s gone.”
“Rowe?” came Perry’s shaky voice. The door opened a crack, and her wide green eyes shone out. When she saw it really was me, she rushed out and threw her arms around my middle. “Oh, thank God. I didn’t think he was ever going to leave. It would only be a matter of time before he smashed his way in here.”
I squeezed her tight for a moment and then turned to the other woman. “Tori?”
She nodded.
I focused back on Perry. “Where’s the guard who was stationed in here with you two? Mae said there was a priest?”
Perry’s bottom lip trembled. “It was Simonsen. He shoved us in the bathroom and held them off as long as he could. Father George helped. I don’t know what happened to them, though. There was screaming as they dragged them away…”
A sick feeling curdled in the bottom of my stomach. “Fucking savages.”
Perry clutched at me. “How are we going to get out? Everything will be locked down in a code thirty-three.”
“I’ve got Mae holed up in a storage closet. I don’t think any of the men will think to search for her there, because it hasn’t been used in so long, and there is nothing of value inside. Not like here in the infirmary. We need to get out of here. They’ll be back for the drugs they’ve left behind. They’re not gonna care about pencils and paper. The classroom storage closet is our best bet for now. Come on.”
“You left Mae alone?” Tori accused.
I narrowed my eyes. I didn’t appreciate her tone, and my patience was already wearing thin. “Yeah, well. She’s stubborn, isn’t she? And too selfless for her own good. She insisted that I come and get you first. So can we quit yakking and get back to her already?”
Tori blinked, and then to my surprise, smiled at me. “I like you. You care about her.”
“No more than I care about anybody else in this place.”
Tori gave me a sidelong glance, and despite the fact I’d only just met the woman, I could tell she didn’t believe me. Hell. I didn’t believe me. I did care about Mae more than I should, even though I’d promised myself I wouldn’t go there again. Caring about people only led to misery.
I was so sick of living with my own misery.
The three of us moved to into the hallway once more, the two women sticking close to my sides. I set the pace, a steady jog, even though my muscles screamed to break into a full run and get back to Mae quicker.
“This is bad. This is so bad,” Perry muttered as we jogged along. “Why didn’t I call in sick today? I’m an idiot. I had a scratchy throat. I could be lying at home in my own bed right now, instead of running from my smashed-up infirmary to go hide in a closet for God knows how long until the frigging riot police get here. Do you even know how long riots last for, Rowe?”
I grit my teeth. “Hours. Days. Weeks, at worst.”
“Weeks!” Tori yelped. “I’ve got a baby at home.”
I took her arm and dragged her along, forcing her to keep pace. “Then keep running so we can get you home to him. Standing out here in the middle of the hall and yelling is only going to end in disaster if we come across a gang of prisoners.”
That got her moving. She pulled ahead, and Perry and I both increased our speed to keep up with her.
“How much farther is it?” Tori asked, her breath coming in puffs.
“It’s not far. One more hall, and then a right turn.” I was encouraged by the new silence. My boots on the solid cement floors echoed in the quiet. Tori’s ragged breaths filled my left ear, while Perry’s tiny whimpers filled my right. I grabbed her hand. “It’s going to be all right. I promise.”
We rounded the final corner and stopped dead.
Knee-high flames met us. Orange-and-yellow fire spread right across the hallway, blocking us off, the heat warming my face even from this distance.
“What was that about promises, Pritchard?” The prisoner I’d let go earlier cackled. He stood on the other side of the flames, delighted with his handiwork. And it was only then that I realized who he was.
Milton James. Arsonist. In prison for lighting his grandmother’s house on fire.
While she was sleeping inside it.
The woman had made it out alive, which was the only reason James had been left in Gen Pop and wasn’t locked up in a solitary cell.
“I did say you were on the wrong side.” He turned and sauntered away, like he didn’t have a care in the world. “Wrong side of the riot and the flames apparently!” His laughter echoed back.
And there was nothing I could do about it. I stood there, watching the flames grow higher and higher as they licked their way up the walls. Tori and Perry screamed around me, their hands tugging at my clothing and trying to pull me away from the flames that crept ever closer.
But all I could think was that Mae was on the other side of them.
Locked in a closet.
With no idea of the danger she was in.
37
Mae
Rowe had been gone for too long. I wasn’t wearing a watch, and my phone was in my locker, but I was sure time had slowed to a crawl. Like I’d promised, I squeezed myself into the very back corner of the closet and dragged boxes in around me, building myself a mini fort so that even if the door was opened by a prisoner, I might get lucky. They might just look in, see the pile of boxes, and not investigate further to find me crouching behind them.
But as the minutes rolled on, an increasing sense of panic crept through my chest, wrapping its way around my lungs and making it hard to breathe. I’d never thought I was claustrophobic, but being locked in the darkness, the air still and stuffy around me, I could suddenly understand why people hated this sort of environment. Occasionally there were noises, or footsteps from the hall outside, but for the most part, there was just silence.
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br /> It took every ounce of self-control to not bust my way out of the closet and then the classroom. Worry plagued my every moment, until the beginnings of a panic attack tried to take hold. My throat dried, and my hands turned clammy with nerves.
I took a deep breath and let it out as a long sigh. I was no good to anybody if I hyperventilated and passed out in here. I would be equally useless if I were a blubbering mess who couldn’t keep herself under control. So I sucked in one deep breath, and then another.
It was on the third breath that I picked up the scent of smoke in the air.
I went perfectly still.
Shit. Freezing was just as bad as hyperventilating.
I pushed the boxes out of the way and stood, racing for the closet door and pressing my nose to the tiny slits of light that came in from outside.
Definitely smoke.
It wasn’t thick, but it was there. I leaned back on the door, my chest heaving with rapid breaths, that panic attack from a few minutes ago just fighting to resurface.
The sprinklers would come on if there was a fire.
But I waited another five minutes, counting down the seconds in my head, both in an attempt to keep track of the time and to calm my racing mind.
The sprinklers didn’t turn on.
And the smoke in the air only grew thicker.
I couldn’t stay in here. I’d promised Rowe, but all I could think about was being burned alive. Flames engulfing my skin. There was no escape from this closet. There was no window, no additional door. If the fire made it as close as my classroom, I was done for. Nobody but Rowe knew I was in here. Nobody would be looking for me. I wasn’t even supposed to be on duty for another hour. With the prison on full lockdown, and the sprinklers obviously not working, how long would it be before firefighters even got in here? I couldn’t rely on them. I couldn’t rely on Rowe, or Heath.
The only person I could rely on was me.