“If your cell doesn’t unlock tonight then that means I was captured or killed,” I say. “But if this is going to work, we need to get the word around beforehand. No names. No times. People just need to expect it.”
“Riot tonight,” he says. “That should be enough.”
“You’re in?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I’d love to kill you. But this is better.”
“They’re going to kill us all anyway,” I say. “We might as well make it a good fight.”
“So, what then?” Carver asks. “You’re just going to ride off into the sunset and leave the prison behind?”
“That’s right,” I say.
Carver smirks at me and shakes his head. “You’re going to steal a bunch of Pass Cards, aren’t you? That’s what I would do.”
I don’t shake my head. I don’t nod. I don’t want to give Carver any reason to think he knows what my plan is.
“Then you’re going to find Teagan,” he says, his smirk forming into a full smile. “That’s right. Rusty and I used to plan our escape together. Things didn’t work out. He said Teagan is resourceful, though. And if there’s ever a person you want to know in trying to get out of the Containment Zone, it’s him.”
I don’t know what to say. I’m too stunned to talk, and I know my silence is just confirmation that he’s right.
“Don’t worry,” Carver says. “I have no use for the guy. I thought I would once, but I know all I need is to steal a Pass Card from one of the guards and be on my way. Better to go alone anyway, I think.”
He doesn’t know.
If it’s true that Carver and Rusty once planned an escape together, then the difference between an official’s Pass Card and a citizen’s Pass Card hadn’t been discussed. Maybe Rusty didn’t even know about it at the time.
No need for me to be the one to tell him.
“Just be ready tonight,” I say. “And get others ready.”
“I’ll do my part,” Carver says. “Just make sure you don’t die before you can open up the cells.”
The sun has gone down and everything seems quiet in the camp. I’ve hidden in the control room building, but in a janitor’s closet. So far, no alarms raised, so the guards must have looked into my cell and felt satisfied that I was asleep in my bunk already—unless all the guards were so excited about the prospect of leaving that there wasn’t even a head count. Either way, it seems I am in the clear at the moment.
The room I need is at the other end of the hallway. The control room is always locked, but I should be able to make the guard come out. Before, I was going to wait for him to go on a bathroom break, but I’ve decided I can’t wait for that. The man may have an oversized bladder and could hold it all night. I also don’t know if there is a bathroom within the control room, making it where he would never have to leave if he didn’t want to.
I wait a few moments to make sure there is no noise in the hallway before I slowly open the closet door. I don’t see anyone walking through, and the shift change has already taken place.
My heart picks up the pace the closer I get to the door. After this, there is no going back. But there’s no going back anyway. The guards are going to kill us tomorrow. If I don’t try to escape, I’m suicidal.
I knock on the door and plant my feet beneath me, readying my fists. After a few seconds, a plump guard opens the door and briefly looks surprised to see a prisoner standing in front of him. He isn’t ready for the swift punch to the face. He falls to the floor immediately. I kick him in the side of his head, knocking him out cold.
I’m in.
It takes a minute for me to understand the control board on the other side of the room. There are switches for each cell throughout the entire complex, but there are also switches for whole cell blocks, which I’m sure are used for meal times and such.
I scan the board for cell number 673, and when I find it, my stomach twists in knots.
All the switches are set to closed…all but cell 673. Skylar’s cell is already switched to open.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Skylar
I KNOW TONIGHT is supposed to be the night. Papa’s note was more than clear. But when Waverly and I are pulled out of our cell about an hour after sundown, I can tell something is wrong, especially when we’re told Warden Black wants to see us.
As we walk, the guards marching behind us, Waverly reaches out and touches my hand. She looks at me and smiles. “Embrace what happens,” she whispers. “Trust your gift.”
“Stop talking,” one of the guards snaps.
I look away from her, not knowing what to think. We’ve talked about the fact that the Starborn blood is in me, but what do I need to be looking for? How will I know when it happens?
“How are you doing, ladies?” Hutch asks as we walk up to Warden Black’s office door. His smile is so wide and genuine.
“Fine, Hutch,” I say.
He opens the door for us, and we walk into the office. There is no hiding my surprise when I see Holbrook standing next to Warden Black’s desk. Black sits in his chair, not looking up at us when we enter.
Holbrook smiles smugly, his hands clasped behind his back. “Things have become so interesting since I was here last,” he says. He looks straight at me. “First, there is you. You lied to me in your interrogation. Your father is here. Prisoner 3,333. Liam. The blood test put you two as a match.”
“My parents are dead,” I say.
“The labs don’t lie,” he says. “You two are a perfect match. And you both have Starborn blood.” He walks in my direction and stands over me. “What can you do? What is your power?”
When I don’t answer, he smiles. He looks so much younger than Warden Black, so much more polished. He has a confidence that bleeds out of him.
“You know,” he says as he clasps his hands behind his back and starts pacing the junky office. “I am so tired of the inefficiency of this place.” He looks at Warden Black when he says this. Then he looks back at me. “The prison is shutting down tomorrow. All the guards will be gone, and all the inmates will be dead.”
He couldn’t have shocked me more than if he had me tied to a chair and electrocuted me again. I knew we were on the brink of something bad, I could feel it, but I didn’t realize it was this.
“Lucky for you, you’re going to be spared,” he says. “I’ve got plans for you. We need to find out what you and your father can do.”
“He’s going with us?” I ask, forgetting to lie, knowing I can hide no longer.
“Of course,” he says.
All of a sudden, I feel like it would be better to be shot and killed than to be taken anywhere with Holbrook.
“That is unless you can tell me now,” he says. “Can you do anything? What is the gift that resides within your blood?” He stops in front of me and reaches out and grabs me by the neck, but I don’t even feel it as a bright white light flashes in front of my eyes.
The room is hazy, and it’s like I see it from an outside view. Waverly and I aren’t in it, and it’s just Holbrook and Black sitting across from each other.
Holbrook sets a brown leather shoulder bag on the desk. “There are ten more Pass Cards. When those guards end their shift tonight, we can give those out.”
Black nods. “Are you sure the plan is for tomorrow? Are you sure we can’t just lock them in?”
“If we just lock them in, they will escape. The guards have enough guns. We can kill them all. I’m taking the girl and her father with me, but if the father makes things difficult, I’ll use the girl as leverage.” He stands from his seat and walks to the other side of the desk. “And if prisoner number nine is who I think she is, you have a lot to answer for.”
Black looks up at him, stunned. “What are you talking about?” Black starts to stand, but Holbrook shoves him back into his seat.
“I’ve looked into the records. I’ve looked through every prisoner number. Prisoner number nine doesn’t have a name next to her number and I have never ques
tioned her. But if she’s who I think she is, I’m going to make sure you’re arrested when we get to Screven.”
“Arrested for what? Mismanagement of records?”
“For hiding a Starborn. I don’t think that would go over very well with Jeremiah.”
Black hunkers down in his seat and crosses his arms.
“Did you call the girl and her cellmate?”
“Yes,” Black says.
“Did you call the father?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Another flash of light and I’m back in the present, Holbrook’s hand around my throat. “I said, what power do you possess?” he screams.
“Stop it!” Waverly yells out. “She may have Starborn blood, but that doesn’t mean she knows what her power is!”
Holbrook lets go of my neck and stares Waverly down. “Do you know who I am?” he says, pulling a knife from his belt.
“I do,” she says.
“You left me for dead all those years ago.”
“It’s because of me you’re alive. I don’t have a lot of regrets in my life, but you breathing right now is certainly one of them.”
Holbrook slams the butt of the knife against Waverly’s cheek, and she falls to the ground with a thud..
“No!” I scream.
What is going on? What could they be talking about? What just happened to me? I know I just saw a vision of the past—the few moments before Waverly and I walked into the room. Holbrook and Black were planning to kill everyone. Once Papa gets here, Holbrook might even kill me.
A crackle from the radio on Black’s desk cuts through the air.
“Sir, we’ve got a problem.”
“What is it?”
Prisoner 3,333 isn’t in his cell. It’s empty.”
My heart pounds in my ears.
Black swears, slamming the radio down on the desk. He presses the button then brings the radio to his mouth. “Find him.”
“Looking now, sir!”
Waverly is back to her feet and Holbrook holds his knife menacingly. “Where’s Liam?” he spits. “I know you know.”
The radio crackles again. “Code red, code red! All the prisoners have been released from their cells! Code red!”
Holbrook and Black look at each other, their eyes wide. Then Holbrook turns to Waverly. “You knew this was going to happen,” he says. “Because you’re a Starborn. One who can see the future. You’ve orchestrated all this. Haven’t you?”
“I have orchestrated nothing,” she answers as she pulls herself to her feet. She rubs her cheek with the palm of her hand. “You brought this upon yourself. The world has suffered because of people like you and Jeremiah. This is just the beginning of the end for all of you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Liam
I SHOULD HAVE taken the guard’s pistol, but I had been so shocked by my discovery of Sky’s cell being open that I rushed out without thinking—just the kind of decision that will cause me to fail.
Carver must have done well getting the word out in such a short time. The halls and corridors are rife with pandemonium as prisoners take down guards and steal weapons. A few of the prisoners are trying to set fire to everything. When another prisoner yells at them to make for the Warden’s building, I feel a surge of panic. The Warden’s building is made of wood and would light up like a match compared to this concrete fortress.
I can’t just stop them from burning everything to the ground, so I have to get there fast. There would have been no reason for Skylar’s cell to have been open unless Holbrook called for them.
First, however, I have to get to my cell. I plow past a few prisoners. We are all weak and skinny, but our numbers far exceed the number of guards. Yet they have the weapons. In the distance, I see Davis and a few of his men unload on us in the middle of the corridor. I duck into a cell and wait. Several prisoners are shot down, blood pooling around them, but the men don’t stop charging. Bullet-ridden and wounds gaping, the prisoners tackle Davis and his group to the ground and tear the weapons away. In seconds, Davis and his whole group are dead, the prisoners now armed.
I bolt ahead and finally make it to my cell. The smell of burning mattresses and clothes is potent throughout the halls. I hear one of the inmates wisely say not to burn down the mess hall.
I kneel in front of the bed and grab Rusty’s pillow and rip at the seams. Feathers sprinkle to the ground all around me as I sift through them, looking for a small piece of paper. An aged and yellowed piece flutters down. I snatch it and read it:
Teagan: 33.59291, -112.51165
I think about Rusty’s body hanging in the tree outside. Poor guy was so close to seeing the end of this place. I don’t know what’s in store, but it’s likely he would have ended up dead in this fight anyway. Still, he would have preferred going down swinging than to have been made an example.
Not just an example. Rusty had become a representation of what this place truly was. What it had always been. A death camp. For me, the man had become an inspiration. Another reason to be rid of this place and get my daughter out.
The coordinates to Teagan are all I need. We are going to make it out of here. We just have to survive a little bit longer. Now, I’ve got to get to Skylar.
I rush out of the cell block and into the yard. My feet stop almost involuntarily when I see the tree in the middle. A pang of sadness tugs at my heart when I look at Rusty hanging there.
I drop to a knee and try to catch my breath. This is the moment where I have to make the right call. Everything depends on it. I can either go to the mess hall as originally planned in hopes that Skylar hasn’t been called to Black’s office and it had just been her cellmate, or I can go straight to Black’s office and try to find her there.
Anything I do is a calculated risk. But Holbrook being here seals the deal. He has matched up our blood. And he probably knows I’m a Starborn. He has her, and he is waiting for me. He will try to use her against me. But I can’t let him do that. I have to save her.
One of the prisoners is setting fire to Warden Black’s building as others try breaking down the door. Women are now running from the other side of the prison, a few of them screaming something I can’t quite understand. When they get closer and I can make out what they’re saying, my insides turn cold. Greyskins…greyskins…greyskins!
“Wait, wait!” I say running up to one of them. I grab her by the arms and position myself in front of her. “What are you saying? What’s happening?”
“The guards,” she says through gasps, “they’ve released the greyskins. They’re pouring out of the fields. They’re everywhere!”
I let go of her arms and she runs away from me. Looking toward the north gate I see guards in a firefight with some of the prisoners. I can only assume that guards are trying to seal all the exits. For the first time, it truly feels like we might lose this escape attempt.
Before, the guards held a mental edge over us. We were all beaten. Sure, there were more of us than there were guards, but the guards didn’t have to go to their cells every night wondering if the next day would be their last. I had thought with word getting around that the guards planned to kill all of us, that there would be enough energy within us to overtake them.
One-by-one, the prisoners fall.
The door to Warden Black’s building breaks open and I’m the third person through. Others aren’t as interested in making it to Warden Black’s office so much as torching the place so he burns in the fire. I have to get there before then.
I rush through the corridors and run as fast as I can, but stop in my tracks when I hear the hurried feet of a few guards stomping in my direction. I swear under my breath and duck into a different hallway, just as the guards cut past a corner. Once they’re by, I jump back out, but I’m frozen in place by what I see.
“Hutch,” I say, holding out an arm.
“What are you doing in here?” he asks, pointing his rifle at me.
“Don’t shoot me, Hutc
h. I’m just going to see the warden. He’s expecting me.”
“Things have changed,” he says. “It’s a prison riot, which means I have orders to shoot on sight.”
“Hutch, please…My daughter’s in there.”
“Your daughter?”
“Skylar.”
“Skylar’s your daughter?”
I nod, and he looks down at the ground for a moment, processing the new information. But I don’t give him a chance. I lunge forward and grab his rifle. He tries to hold on, but I wrench it away from his grip as he falls to the ground.
I point the gun at him and shake my head as he starts to reach down for his pistol. “Don’t do it, Hutch. I will kill you if I have to.”
The boy swallows, his eyes darting from one direction to another. At first, I think he’s going to do the smart thing and leave his hands up, but instead, he reaches for his pistol. I let off a round and it goes through his chest, but it’s not enough to kill him instantly. He lets off a hobbled shot from his pistol that tears through my leg and another that goes through my shoulder. The force of the bullets spin me into the air then to the ground and let out a groan.
I crawl up to my knees, instantly forcing myself to ignore the pain. I bring the gun around to put an end to the fight, but Hutch is no longer moving, his face drained of color. He lies still, a trickle of blood oozing from his mouth.
It didn’t have to be this way.
But it did. Holbrook and Warden Black brought us here. I don’t know anything about Hutch and his life before becoming a guard, but an end like this was inevitable. There was always going to be a fight.
This place is death for both sides.
I let out a deep breath, calling on all the concentration I have to relieve me of the burning pain in my leg and shoulder. Every couple of seconds, the pain returns because my focus keeps shifting to what’s happening in Warden Black’s office.
I approach the door as quietly as I can and feel the doorknob to see if it’s locked. When it doesn’t budge, I carefully aim the gun at the lock, making sure the bullet won’t ricochet and go through the door. I squeeze the trigger and kick the door open.
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