She watches me a moment, then shakes her head. “I suppose you can’t be.”
“Except you can be,” I say coldly.
“Don’t resent me for my ability,” she says. “I carry a burden that you will never know. I have had to make decisions that would produce the best outcome, despite how painful the decisions may be. I’ve had to choose between people in my life. I’ve had to choose who would live and who would die, simply because I knew the possible futures. I’ve had to know when to step back and pull away from all of this, and when to actively take part. Like now.”
“But what if you’re wrong?” I ask. “What if you don’t see things right?”
“I’ve had my ability for a long time, Skylar. I never wanted it. I hate it. But it’s there. And there is just one path to getting out of here. There’s one path to getting out of the Containment Zone. There’s one path to freeing the world of the greyskin virus. I am doing everything I can to keep us on that path, despite the hardships along the way.”
“I don’t care about any of it if it means something has to happen to Papa,” I say. “I won’t have it. I don’t want you to use him for an outcome you think is best if it isn’t best for him.”
“I can’t see everything,” she says.
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean, I don’t know how it turns out for all of us individually. But I’m doing the best I can.”
“My father is a great man,” I say. “You saw the scar on my leg? He carried me all the way from a village, which took us hours to reach. He carried me through the night with a piece of wood through his leg. A greyskin bite on his shoulder. He got us home. Gave me the cure and then gave it to himself, not knowing if it was going to work.” I hold out my hands. “Here I am. And he’s walking, too.”
“That was the night he discovered his Starborn power?” she asks.
“We didn’t know it back then, but yes. He can suppress any pain.”
“And that will be useful getting us out of here and out of the Containment Zone,” she says.
“So, he’s going to be okay?”
“Yes,” she says. “In the end, we’ll all be okay.”
There is something about the way she answers that makes me not believe her, but I don’t know what it is.
It has to be enough.
I think she is doing the best she can, but I also believe she isn’t telling me everything. She has said as much. If I know the future, then I can change it. I guess I can see why she wouldn’t tell me everything.
The best thing I can do is trust her.
It’s the only thing I can do.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Liam
IT’S BEEN A month and a week since Warden Black made me the official Vulture Hill Prison rat. So far, I have foiled an attack in sorting, collected all kinds of weapons and contraband, and stopped a guard’s assassination. No one, of course, knows about me being a rat except for Warden Black and a few of his closest guards.
I never use the notepad Black gave me for purposes he originally intended. I'm not entirely sure why he wanted me to use it. I suppose he thought I would find out so much dirt I would need to write it down so I wouldn’t forget.
Instead, I've used it to write Sky little notes that I drop into her cell. I don't have authorization to open the cells, but it's not too difficult to make sure the tiny piece of paper makes it to the top bunk, which I assume is hers since the older woman she was with in Warden Black’s office is her cellmate.
In any case, the notes are nondescript and couldn't get her into trouble if a guard found one. The first note simply read: The sun sets on our darkest days, and it always rises in the morning with new possibilities.
She would remember the words of her mother. It might have brought her sad memories, but it was something we often said to each other to keep our spirits up. It helped to remind us how Sarah wanted us to live our lives.
The second note read: Blue elephants never wear skates.
This recalled a time where the three of us were playing a game in which we had to think of the most ridiculous scenarios. I had said that blue elephants had to wear skates to make it to school on time. Sky laughed until tears flowed then replied, “Blue elephants don't wear skates!”
To anyone else, the notes would be meaningless. To Sky, they might bring a smile to her face. I had no instruction. I had no plans for escape. I simply wanted her day to be better—for her to realize that this place will not be the end of us. We will survive together. It will just take time. Now, I just have to feed Warden Black enough information to keep him happy, all the while trying to find clues to a way out of here.
The job has required me to make some friends throughout the prison and gain the trust of some. It’s a balancing act, and I try to find out some of the more punishable offenses secondhand, so I’m never implicated when the guards are a step ahead of the prisoners.
At first, I felt bad about being a rat. It’s the job no one really wants, and if the other inmates ever find out, I will be dead by day’s end. So far I’ve only ratted on prisoners whose offenses might only give them a short stint in solitary or some lashings. The planned assassination of a guard had no names attached to it, but the insider information put a whole block on lockdown for an afternoon. If I know that something someone does might get them executed, I keep it to myself, which is another danger I face. If Black thinks I’m holding back, he won’t have any use for me.
My new job has also allowed me to stay clear of Carver who stares at me whenever I do see him. I know the man wants to kill me. I know he’s plotting it in some way. But as the janitor, I’m able to be anywhere he isn’t. My biggest risk is at meal times, but even Carver isn’t dumb enough to assassinate someone at meal time. I know if I let my guard down, however, Carver will gut me in a second.
For a little while, I debated telling Rusty about my new job. It has given me access to all sorts of places within the prison, and I have spent the last few weeks mapping everything out, looking for weak points. I now know where the power station is and how to shut it down, along with the backup generators. I know where the control room is that opens and closes the cell doors as well as the outside gates. Neither location is guarded particularly well, considering the level of security and control of the prisoners. There was little chance any prisoners would be able to sneak away to one of these locations without being noticed.
Given how much Rusty has confided in me, I finally decided to let him in on what I was doing, explaining that I hadn’t told him yet because I needed to see what kind of access I really had.
“That kind of job is invaluable,” he said excitedly at lunch one day.
“But I have to keep feeding Black information. Without it, I’m useless. So, I’ve just been giving him minor stuff.”
“Oh, I get that,” he said.
We talked over the next two weeks about how the position furthered our plans and really gave us a shot. However, it was still going to take a lot of time.
Now, I haven’t fed Black anything in over a week. Information is either too incriminating or not incriminating enough. In our last two meetings, I’ve told Black that I don’t know anything and he doesn’t like it because he knows everyone is trying to escape at all times.
Rusty sits across from me at dinner, looking at me almost like he’s debating something in his head. He knows the predicament I’m in. He knows I need useful information. Simple information.
“What’s on your mind, Rusty?” I ask, getting tired of him staring at me after every sip of broth.
“It’s just…I’ve got something big. But I don’t know if I should tell you.”
“Why?”
“Because it might get the person executed and I don’t really like that.”
“Then I don’t even want to know.”
“It’s Carver,” he says.
I look up from my bowl.
“It’s no secret he’s out for your blood,” Rusty says. “And the
only reason he’s not out for my blood is because he’s fixated on you. But if he finds a way to escape and doesn’t get a chance to kill you, he’s okay with that too.” He shrugs. “Maybe he’s planning to kill you and escape.”
“So, you’re saying it’s better for me to act before he gets the chance.”
“That’s what I’m thinking, yeah.”
Now I am the one with the debate in my mind. I’ve already killed the brother. Do I really want to kill Carver too? I’m no killer. When Alex died, it was self-defense. It wasn’t my plan for either one of them to die. But I’m also in need of something to give Warden Black.
“What is it?” I finally ask.
“Carver’s digging a tunnel.”
I wave him off. “Everybody’s digging a tunnel, give me something good. Tunnel stories are never real.”
“Check out the sorting field when no one is out there,” he says. “Your old stomping grounds. Guards never see him. The commotion with the pigs and the greyskins lets him hide. The guy found a small hole in the corner of the field and started digging. Turns out, his spot is out of view from where the guards usually stand. I hear he’s not far from done, too.”
“A tunnel seems a bit far-fetched for being out in the open like that. It would take months. And wouldn’t that be a chance for others to get out?” I ask. “I can mess up his plans, but maybe other people will get out too?”
“Think about it for a moment,” Rusty says. “How many people can he really take with him? Maybe one? Two? What do you think the guards are going to do when all of a sudden twenty of the sorters are gone? Or if a bunch of people from a different part of the camp are all of a sudden gone? It’s not like any of us can go to sorting in the middle of the night. We’re locked up. He’s the only one going because if there are any more than that, they’re all caught. They’re dead.”
Rusty is right. The only person I would be affecting is Carver. And Warden Black may kill him and he may not. And Liam would never be implicated in ratting Carver out.
“This is a pretty juicy one,” Rusty says. “Might get the warden off your back for a while. Not to mention, Carver knows about your daughter.”
That is enough to help me make a decision. The twins should have never brought Skylar into any of this. Alex deserved to die, and Carver deserves whatever is coming to him.
It’s midnight and I’m wide awake, thinking about Carver digging a tunnel. It’s a bold move, and I’m almost sad to expose it. Digging a tunnel right under the noses of the guards? That takes some guts. Or stupidity. I’m surprised some other prisoner hasn’t already given up the information even inadvertently. I know there is a prisoner code around here. If you’re not trying to escape, you’re suicidal. It’s as if we each know that the next person has the right to try and get out of here.
If I were alone in this prison, I would probably live by the prisoner code and say nothing. But I’m not here alone. I’ve got a daughter to think about. And Carver has continuously threatened my daughter. I don’t know how he learned about her. I don’t care. But the next morning, I’m walking into Warden Black’s office and I’m telling him about Carver’s tunnel.
It’s breakfast and Rusty asks what I’m going to do. I didn’t sleep at all last night and my eyes feel heavy.
“I’m going to Black’s office when we’re done eating.”
“Really?” He seems surprised.
“If he was threatening your daughter, would you let him live?”
“I suppose not,” he says. “A lot of people are going to be wondering how the guards found out.”
“I’ve already got that figured out,” I say.
Rusty doesn’t ask me more about my plan, probably because I don’t offer details.
When breakfast ends, I march to Warden Black’s office and the guard, Hutch, meets me outside. He’s young and has pimples dotting his forehead. He looks too young for this kind of work. Ever since I started snitching for Warden Black, Hutch has taken a liking to me. I don’t think Hutch is in the loop about what Warden Black and I talk about, but I see him every time I come to the office.
“I wondered if I would see you today,” Hutch says. He looks from side-to-side even though it’s the end of a narrow hallway. He reaches inside his coat and pulls out a chunk of bread. “Don’t say anything, obviously. Thought you might like it.” He reaches in again and pulls out something wrapped in a cloth. It’s cheese. “I know you don’t get good stuff like that.”
“Thank you, Hutch,” I say, genuinely surprised. I stuff the bread and cheese into my pockets and pat him on the shoulder.
“Just one second,” he says, then knocks on the door and enters.
I will have to go to Skylar’s cell at some point during the day and toss it onto her bed. Cheese was always such a treat for her. It would be a nice surprise.
Hutch comes out and motions for me to enter the office. “He will see you.”
When I walk in, Black seems distracted. His fingers cover his eyes, and he’s rocking slightly. “Oh, I hate the man.”
“Who?” I ask.
He drops his hands on the desk and shakes his head. “Holbrook. I hate the man, I hate the man, I hate the man.”
I don’t say anything, finding it best to let Black stew in his anger, whatever the cause.
The Warden stands from his desk and starts pacing the room. “He’s coming here in a month. Says he’s going to bring the results of the blood samples.”
I feel a sudden jolt in my chest.
“He’s backlogged with other prisons around the Containment Zone. I don’t know why he feels the need to come here. You would think I could facilitate the blood draws and send them off to whatever lab they’re using. Why does he have to come here?”
I shrug. “He’s the Starborn hunter. Guess he’d like to be here when one is found.”
“More than that. He wants to be in our affairs. He thinks he’s so important having been appointed to the job by Jeremiah himself. I’m sure he’s aiming to be on Jeremiah’s council one day. I tell you, the day that happens, I quit. I will join the rest of you in the prison.”
You wouldn’t last two minutes.
“We would treat you like a brother.”
He raises an eyebrow at me. “Either you think I’m an idiot or you’re making fun of me.”
I realize my error immediately and dive right into the reason I’m here.
“Sir, I’ve got a good one for you. Tunnel dig. Sorting.”
“Someone’s digging a tunnel in sorting?”
I nod. “Carver.”
“Really?” His sharp eyebrows are almost touching the bridge of his nose as he slowly sits back down in his chair. “How have the guards not caught it?”
“I don’t know,” I say, “but I think that’s the best way to deal with the situation. Treat the day like a normal day for about an hour or so, then start having the guards patrol the entire field. Starting with the east end.”
“East end,” he repeats. “Is that all?”
“I believe so, sir.”
“Very good, Liam,” he says, a thin smile forming. “Very good.”
There are moments of bravery in everyone’s life, and there are moments of stupidity. Curiosity can bring out both.
I don’t know if it’s stupid when I walk into the women’s cell block as they are filing in for the afternoon rest. The guards look at me as I shuffle past them with a mop and bucket sloshing with brown soapy water, but they don’t stop me. They also don’t follow me down the hallway as I make my way toward Sky’s cell. Many of them have gotten used to seeing me as the janitor, though I've never tried to come into the women’s cell block when the inmates were present.
When I reach it, I don’t look up. Instead, I set the bucket down, submerge the end of the mop, then slap it against the floor. With each stroke, I change the stone floor to a different color. When I finally brave a glance upward, I catch both Skylar and her cellmate staring at me through the bars.
Sk
ylar’s eyes fill with tears, but she doesn’t say anything. My eyes travel to the older woman standing next to her, then I scrub the floor a little closer to their cell. Closer. Closer.
“In that meeting a while back,” I say once I’m next to the cell. “Warden Black said you knew about me. Said you talked about me. What do you know?” The question has burned into me for a while now and I need to know who I can trust.
“I know that you and your daughter are doing what you need to do,” she says to me.
I look at Sky who nods at me.
“We can trust her, Papa.”
I was afraid Sky would be too trusting, but I should know that having allies here is essential to surviving. Sky needs someone she can trust. I just hope this Nine character is helping my daughter and not taking advantage of her.
“Does Black know about our relationship?” I ask.
“No,” the woman answers. “You need to trust your instincts. You do that and we all get out of here.”
Sky rests her head against the bars, and I want nothing more than to hold her in my arms and comfort her. The next best thing is to offer her something she hasn’t had in a long time.
I reach into my pocket and pull out the bread and cheese. A glance down both sides of the corridor shows that no guards are looking in my direction. I hand the food to Sky and she takes it with wide eyes.
“Where did you…”
I bring a finger up to my lips and start mopping the floor again. I look up at Nine and nod. “Thank you for looking after her,” I say.
She nods back at me, and I make my way down the corridor mopping all the way.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Liam
SOMETHING IS CHANGING in the air. The guards act differently. They seem happier around each other yet harsher toward the inmates.
It’s been weeks since I gave Sky the cheese and bread. Weeks since I’ve spoken to her. Weeks since I’ve been close to her. I’ve seen her from a distance a few times, but it’s not enough. It’s never enough. It’s worse when I can tell her head has been freshly shaven—a red scalp stained with droplets of blood. The guards never go easy when they give a fresh shave.
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