Break Out (Supernatural Prison Trilogy Book 3)

by Aella Black

  “Come on, kid,” I murmured, extending my hand further.

  His eyes widened a split second before I felt pain explode along the back of both legs. My knees buckled, and I went down, twisting at the last moment before I ended up on top of the kid I’d been trying to help. I lifted my arm as another blow landed, this one on my forearm. That was going to leave a nasty bruise.

  Looking up, I watched the guard return the baton to his holster. “Next time, you do as I say. Now, get up!” he growled.

  Get, get, get… this guy seriously needed to expand his vocabulary.

  Not wanting to draw attention to the kid, I slowly stood back up. A blow like that would have broken one of his bones, but, thankfully, he wasn’t on the receiving end of the guard’s wrath.

  He scrambled to his feet next to me. My eyes locked on the guard, and I gave the kid a gentle push forward. Then, a moment later, I resumed walking. It took all of my energy to not limp, but no way I was going to let the guard see the pain he’d caused.

  After several minutes, my gaze snagged on Phoebe at the opposite end of the rec area. Her head was down, eyes on the ground. I hoped she hadn’t seen that little beat-down, but likely she did.

  Ahead of her by a few steps was Birdie. The younger girl’s uneasy gaze shifted from guard to guard. Looking at the dark skin beneath her eyes, I was struck for the millionth time by the injustice of someone so young being incarcerated. In particular, one whose ability was harmless—well, mostly.

  Birdie’s gaze caught mine, and I attempted a smile. As hard as I tried to keep things positive, even I had to admit that things looked pretty bleak. Now, the only time we could speak freely was at meals—or if we happened to be assigned to the same pod.

  It was why I still hadn’t told Phoebe how I felt about her. Mealtimes didn’t feel right, especially since we always had an audience. Without an opportunity to spend time with her alone, there was no telling when—or if—I’d ever get a chance.

  Not to mention, she’d just lost her mother. Though Phoebe hadn’t mentioned her death, that had to have cut deep.

  Or maybe not. The woman had sold out her own daughter.

  And she wasn’t the only one. I was still reeling from the news that all of our parents had consented to us being human guinea pigs. If it weren’t for them, we’d be in school right now, not prison.

  A whistle blew, signaling the end of our forced march. We filtered back inside and made our way to the cafeteria. Breakfast was dead silent, everyone too tired and hungry for conversation. I know I was. Plus, I was still licking my wounds from the baton-beating I’d received earlier, so, for once, the silence was welcome.

  Afterward, we went our separate ways, and I headed to the group responsible for scrubbing the shower rooms. When Tex and Cooper joined the line, my spirits lifted a little.

  Cooper, a boy about the same age as Birdie, hadn’t been here long. Poor kid. I doubted he’d even had time to adjust to being at the prison before everything changed again.

  Glancing back, I saw that he was behind me and in front of Tex, who gave me a quick thumbs-up. Good. There was no one better to have your back than the big guy from Texas. I hoped that reassured the kid, but he still looked scared out of his mind.

  In the shower rooms, we were handed buckets, bleach, and brushes. Resigning myself to long hours of monotonous work, I started scrubbing. Tex worked next to me, wrinkling his nose at the grime. It was all the hair that made me want to lose my breakfast.

  “What color do you think these tiles are supposed to be?” Tex asked.

  “Green?”

  I glanced over at Cooper. The tiles weren’t the only thing that looked green. “Uh, I think that’s mildew. Maybe blue? Hopefully not white,” I said with a grimace.

  Tex glanced around and then put one of his bare hands on the tile. Gross. What is he—

  “Cool!” Cooper said. A little too loudly.

  A quick glance confirmed that a pair of guards had begun sidling over in our direction. I concentrated on scrubbing again in hopes they’d leave us be.

  Tex had used his color-changing ability to transform one of the nasty green tiles to blue. Although it looked much better and took minimal effort, no way they were going to let us off the hook that easily.

  I sometimes forgot what Tex could do, since he rarely displayed his abilities anymore. Back at Leavenworth, he’d change the color of objects just for kicks. The Lansing wardens had made it so most inmates were terrified to use their powers—no matter how harmless they were.

  Some of us couldn’t help it. If I was working and needed to lift something heavy, I wouldn’t pretend I couldn’t. Same with Phoebe. It wasn’t like she had a choice whether she came back to life or not. She just did.

  The idea that she wouldn’t want to come back popped into my head, and a sharp pain shot through my chest. I lifted my hand to rub it when the guards’ conversation caught my attention.

  “Do you know what time the new guards get here?” one asked.

  New guards? The guard force had already doubled since Fletcher took command, and to my knowledge, no additional inmates had arrived. Why did they need more manpower?

  “Supposed to be here pretty soon,” the other responded.

  “I heard they’ve got powers. You think that means we’ll get some time off?”

  “Doubt it. Gonna take all of us to keep these little monsters in line.”

  I had to fight the growl that would only reinforce his characterization of us. We were not monsters. If anything, they were. Knowingly imprisoning and mistreating kids was about the most monstrous thing I could imagine.

  Fortunately, the two moved away before I opened my big mouth and said something I’d regret.

  “Did you hear that?” Tex’s voice was low, his head bent toward mine.

  “Yeah, I heard all right,” I grumbled, scrubbing harder than necessary. “What I want to know is where they’re getting them. I mean, do they have supernaturals on standby or something?”

  “I was wondering the same thing,” Tex drawled.

  “Where do they come from?” Cooper asked.

  I shook my head. “Beats me.” But that wasn’t entirely true. Phoebe and I hadn’t shared with the others what we’d found out from her mom and dad. How did you tell your friends that their parents were responsible for them being here? “Maybe the warden is just trying to scare us into behaving,” I muttered.

  “Well, it’s working,” Cooper said, so soft I barely heard him.

  We continued scrubbing, and the longer we worked, the more despondent I became. Twice we’d failed to escape, and now there were more guards coming? This situation got more hopeless by the day.

  My eighteenth birthday was nearing—and I imagined Tex’s too—which meant we wouldn’t be here much longer. Not that that was a good thing. We still didn’t know what would happen to us, but I was beginning to think that anything would be better than this. And some of these kids had years of this left to endure. What should have been the best time of our lives, we were wasting away behind these decrepit walls.

  Another pair of guards took up their positions nearby, and their words snapped me out of the hole I was sinking into.

  “I’d like to see Chief and Fang duke it out,” a guard with a deep voice rumbled.

  Eyes on the tile…eyes on the tile…

  “Are you kidding? I hear Chief is no fun to watch. Fang and Dane, now that’s a fight that could be entertaining.”

  My gaze slid to Tex. He had a frown on his face that no doubt mirrored mine. We both glanced at Cooper, who looked confused.

  I shifted my focus back to the tile so my anger wouldn’t be on full display. As if our lives weren’t already in the literal toilet, we were going to start sparring again. Would Fletcher put up with my refusal to fight?

  Phoebe’s mother had used Warrick to try to coerce me. What would the new warden’s method be? It wasn’t like he could take away my rec time or withhold anything enjoyable, because there was
n’t anything.

  “When do we start?” I looked up at the sound of Tex’s voice. It was unusual for him to draw attention, but I understood needing to prepare yourself for what was to come.

  One of the guards scowled and put a hand on his taser, but the other gave Tex a cocky grin. “Real soon,” he said, chomping on gum. “But if you think it’s going to be like it was before, you’re dumber than you look.”

  My chest constricted. “How will it be different?”

  “That’s for us to know and you to find out.” The gum-smacking guard had a wicked glint in his eye.

  “Now, get back to work,” the scowling guard growled.

  I lowered my head again, mind racing. What could they possibly do to us that they hadn’t already done?

  Previously, Phoebe’s mom assessed our abilities by locking two supernaturals in a room and forcing us to fight while she observed, along with some scientists and guards. Maybe they were going to resume testing the way they did it at Leavenworth?

  That wasn’t so bad for me, but my stomach lurched as I remembered what Phoebe had gone through. It’s why, even if Warden Will was the lesser of the two evils—well, three in this case—I still held it against him since those experiments occurred on his watch.

  And speaking of, why wasn’t he the one to replace Phoebe’s mother? He’d already been the warden of a supernatural prison, so it made the most sense for him to be in charge. Unless the SCC really did something to him after our attempted escape…

  Just as my hands began to blister from all the scrubbing, the guards blew their whistles and announced it was time to break for lunch. Inside the cafeteria, Tex, Cooper, and I found Phoebe and the others gathering in the line. We slid in next to them.

  “Hey, guys,” I said in a low voice. I was about to inform them of the news we’d learned when I glanced at Phoebe and did a double-take. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she looked like she’d just single-handedly rebuilt the prison walls.

  Leaning in, I whispered, “Are you okay?”

  She nodded. But it was obvious she wasn’t. She wouldn’t even look me in the eye.

  “What did they make you do?” I asked, trying to keep a lid on the anger that was rising within me.

  “No, it’s not that.” She brushed my arm gently where it had been smacked with a baton earlier, and I swear it felt better. “I just didn’t sleep well.”

  My outrage cooled a little, but I wanted to gather her in my arms and give her a hug. She looked like she could use one. And if she didn’t need one, I did.

  A growl that could only belong to Rocky sounded out in front of us. “They’re lowering our rations again.”

  My gaze followed hers to where the food was being served. I’d noticed a few days ago that the portions seemed smaller, but I thought it was just the cafeteria workers in a bad mood. As I watched the woman behind the counter serve a small slice of breakfast casserole and a piece of fruit with deliberate precision, I got the sinking feeling that Rocky might be right.

  “They’re not going to starve us, are they?” Birdie squeaked.

  “Of course not,” I said.

  But how did I know? There was no telling how far these people would go. Maybe it was punishment for the riot. Or maybe they were trying to weaken us. Less food meant less healthy inmates, which meant less chance of an uprising. Looking at it that way, it made sense why they’d withhold food.

  When we’d each received our ridiculously small servings, we headed to a table in the center of the room. The further we were from the guards, the better.

  I sat across from Phoebe and began eating, all the while wishing there was something I could do to erase that vacant look in her eyes. Hopefully sleep would help, but I knew that wasn’t all it was.

  She hadn’t just lost her mother. She’d lost her dad—again. It had been a risk to track him down in the first place, and now there was no telling where they’d taken him. Or if they’d taken him anywhere at all. I tried not to think about that being the best-case scenario.

  I sighed, realizing she still didn’t know we were getting more guards and we’d have to fight again. She needed to know—they all did—but I hated to be the one to break the bad news.

  “Good afternoon, inmates!”

  I stiffened at the sound of Fletcher’s booming voice bouncing off the cafeteria walls. A few forks clattered, and I noticed heads ducking at every table. Kids trying to make themselves as small as possible.

  “I have an announcement,” he declared.

  “We worked that one out for ourselves,” Phoebe mumbled under her breath.

  Despite knowing what was to come, I found myself wanting to smile. Apparently, the Phoenix’s fire hadn’t completely burned out.

  She glared at him, seemingly unafraid if that made her a target. I didn’t bother turning around.

  The distinct sound of heavy boots began filling the room, and I watched as Phoebe took in what I knew were the new supernatural guards who’d been brought in to keep us in line. Therefore, I saw the moment her face became a ghostly shade of white and her eyes bugged out. It would have been comical if it weren’t so scary.

  “Xander…” she whispered.

  Something wasn’t right. We’d had guards before, and sure, some were surlier-looking than others, but none should have elicited such a strong reaction.

  I slowly turned around in my chair and froze. There, standing at attention among the dozens of guards on either side of the warden, was our old nemesis.

  Wolf.

  The guy who cornered Phoebe in the Leavenworth library and killed her with his bare hands. Who foiled our escape plans and shot a guard so he could try to escape himself. Who we thought had been eliminated.

  I never thought I’d see him again. I never wanted to see him again.

  And now he was armed and even more dangerous.

  3

  Phoebe

  Seeing Wolf made my stomach turn. And yet… I couldn’t look away.

  It was as if taking my eyes off him for a second could be hazardous to my health. And knowing Wolf, it could be.

  I’d never forget the way he looked me straight in the eye while squeezing the breath out of my lungs. Or when he didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger that took Oscar’s life.

  A chill snaked down my spine.

  Wolf was a murderer, and apparently, the SCC rewarded him for it. That set a dangerous precedent.

  Cathy’s voice rang loudly in my head. “Oh my gosh, it’s Wolf! What is he doing here? Is this what we do when we turn eighteen?”

  Looking at the other guards, I realized she could be right. They all appeared young. No older than twenty-one, I’d guess. And since Wolf was a supernatural, the others might be too.

  The muffled murmurs throughout the room seemed to back this up, and then Mr. Fletcher confirmed it.

  He stepped forward, his dark hair freshly styled, his dress shirt perfectly pressed. “Take a good look,” he said, stretching both arms wide. The cafeteria became so silent, you could hear a pin drop. “You should recognize these fine young men and women. They were once your fellow inmates. Maybe even your friends.”

  Beside me, Rocky scoffed. She’d been at Leavenworth a lot longer than I had, and I wondered if she knew some of the other supernatural guards. Were the rest of them like Wolf?

  If so, things had just gone from extremely bad to exponentially worse.

  “Make no mistake,” Mr. Fletcher continued. “They are not your friends now. You will do as they say, and they do what I say. I won’t tolerate anything short of full compliance… by anyone.”

  He paused, as if waiting for someone to disagree with him. No one did.

  Upon arrival at Lansing, Mr. Fletcher had made the consequences of disobeying his orders crystal clear. The threat of “elimination” was enough to keep even the most rebellious teenager in line.

  But we all thought they’d eliminated Wolf, and since he was obviously alive and well, did that mean they were idle threats?


  Mr. Fletcher clasped his hands together and grinned, but it wasn’t genuine. It was a snake-oil salesman kind of smile. “I hope you all are encouraged that this could be your future.” Encouraged? Was he crazy? “If you prove yourself worthy and obedient, you too may be promoted to a position within our organization.”

  I almost laughed in disbelief. Wolf had been anything but compliant. In fact, he’d pushed boundaries whenever he could and then rolled right over them.

  Looking at him stand stiffly next to our new warden, not a hint of his trademark evil grin on his face, I wondered how he’d become so submissive. The Wolf I knew hated the SCC as much as we did.

  I’d never forget the last words he said before choking me to death that day in the library. They were permanently embedded in my brain. I’d asked him what had happened to him, because it was obvious the angrier he got, the more wolf-like he became.

  “What happened to me? What happened to you? To all of us?” He’d been yelling, even with his face mere inches from mine. Then with a growl that sounded more animal than human, Wolf said, “You wanna know what happened to us, Phoenix? They did.”

  A full-body shiver rippled through me at the memory. I didn’t want to look at Wolf or Mr. Fletcher, or any of the new supernatural guards whose sole purpose was to control and terrorize us. Who would volunteer for something like that?

  Once the sounds of their boots indicated they’d left, I turned to Rocky. “Did you know any of the other guards?”

  “Yeah, I knew a couple of ‘em. Not as bad as Wolf, but not exactly buddies of mine either.”

  That wasn’t saying much. To my knowledge, Rocky didn’t have any friends before she joined up with our little gang at Leavenworth.

  “Does that mean the rest are from here?” Tex asked.

  “Your guess is as good as mine.” Rocky said, slurping the last of her drink.

  I looked around for Dane. He’d been here at Lansing for years and seemed to know everyone. If anyone knew the guards, he would.

  “He and Cooper and Cal are in the other meal rotation,” Xander said, pulling my attention toward him. “For now.”