Break Out (Supernatural Prison Trilogy Book 3)

by Aella Black

  I tensed. “They saw me right after I got the snot beat out of me. That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?”

  Tex looked back and forth between the two of us with obvious confusion. I would have to catch him up later.

  Wolf grimaced. “No, you’re right,” he said. “That was good, but not good enough.” My heart sank. “Your parents might be willing to risk their jobs, but they won’t risk you. Fletcher knew that, and he wielded it like a weapon.”

  It was like he’d been in the room with us. That was exactly what Fletcher did, and, according to Wolf, it worked.

  “We’re so sorry,” Mom had said. I thought at the time she was apologizing for leaving me in this hell-hole, but evidently not.

  Disappointment dug in deep, but something else scratched the surface. It was the first time in my life that I recall my parents putting me first above their jobs. And though the timing sucked, it felt kind of amazing.

  “So if my parents can’t help us, who will?” I couldn’t picture Warden Will storming the castle to save the day.

  “Believe it or not, your parents aren’t the only important people with kids in this place,” Wolf said with no small amount of snark.

  He was right, though. Phoebe’s mom and dad told us parents had to sign up for this science-experiment-gone-wrong. It made sense the people given that option either had money, power, or something valuable to offer the people with money and power.

  Wolf continued. “Problem is, other than some unhappy parents, no one believes anything is off about this place. And the ones who know and support it are the ones we have to worry about. I know next-to-nothing about all this high-level stuff, but there’s about fifty shades of shady business going on and it takes time to sort the good guys from the bad guys.”

  Unfortunately, time wasn’t on our side. Time wasn’t on Phoebe’s side.

  “Where’s Phoebe?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know, man. I’d tell you if I knew.”

  To my surprise, I believed him. But that didn’t make his answer easier to swallow. “Find out,” I said. His eyebrow shot up at my order. “In the meantime, what can we do to expedite things? ‘Cause you know as well as I do, we’ve got to get out of here. If not, we’re never getting out here.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” he snapped. “I’m just as ready as you guys.”

  Tex cleared his throat. “What if one of us could get out of here?” My gaze shot over to him, and so did Wolf’s. “I mean, would that help? From what I’m gathering, somebody needs to know what’s going on here besides Chief’s parents. What if someone else could tell them? Do you think they would do something then?”

  Wolf shrugged. “Maybe. But I’m not risking my neck to help sneak someone out of here. This little pow-wow is risky enough.” He glared pointedly at me.

  “You wouldn’t have to,” Tex said slowly. Then he drew himself up straight. “I could sneak out on my own.”

  Wolf laughed. “And how do you plan on doing that?” he asked.

  “Well… I’ve discovered something about my powers, and I’ve been practicing.”

  This was news to me.

  “Well, what is it?” Wolf barked. “What can you do?”

  I was curious too. I’d only ever seen Tex change objects into different colors. Not very useful for an escape… or a fight.

  He smiled. “I can make like a chameleon and camouflage.” Whoa.

  “Show us,” Wolf commanded.

  “Please,” I added.

  Tex nodded, and in a blink of an eye, he became the same shade of white as the walls. Even his feet blended into the floor. He wasn’t invisible, but if he didn’t move, you couldn’t even tell he was there.

  Wolf whistled. “Nice.”

  “You think that would work?” I asked him hopefully.

  Wolf appeared to consider. “Yeah, I think it might…”

  Tex shifted back to his normal appearance. “If anyone can get out of here, I can,” he said confidently. “I already know when and where to get past which guards, and what exit to take.” He looked at me, saying, “My dad was sort of a genius… and a paranoid one. He, uh, used to have contingency plans for everything when I was a kid.”

  How did I not know this about Tex? And why had I never asked?

  He straightened. “I know I can do this. And when I do, I’ll go see Warden Will.” It was impossible to argue with confidence like that. Then he turned to Wolf. “Just tell me where to find him, and I’ll get him to take me to the government folks. Then they’ll have to believe me, right?”

  I missed Wolf’s response because my mind was spinning. “Why didn’t you leave earlier?” I asked Tex.

  Without an ounce of hesitation, he said, “I wasn’t going to abandon my friends.” He sounded slightly offended I’d even suggest it.

  I was speechless. Tex had been holding back on us… for us. Had anyone else done that? Apparently, we all needed to work on our communication skills.

  Wolf glanced at the door again. “Okay, so we’ve got a plan? Great. Now we need to go. We’ve been in here too long already.”

  “I won’t fail you guys,” Tex promised. And I believed him.

  “I’ll tell you where to find Will on the way back to your cell,” Wolf told Tex. Then turning in my direction, he said, “But first…”

  Wolf’s fist landed across my already sore jaw. I glared at him. He smiled back at me. “Gotta rough you up a bit to make this look real,” he said.

  He was right. Tex already had his turn—courtesy of yours truly—and now it was mine. “Sure, whatever. But you don’t have to enjoy it.”

  His smile grew bigger.

  Jerk.

  15

  Phoebe

  The containment room Warrick put me in was small and cold, with only a bed to keep me company.

  I even wished Lucy were with me. It was difficult to fall asleep when there were no sounds, no lights, no… nothing. I hadn’t realized how accustomed to noise I’d gotten in prison, especially at night when guards frequently patrolled the cell block.

  But once I was out, I was out.

  Weeks of sleep deprivation caught up with me, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I slept through the night. I didn’t even recall any nightmares when I woke up.

  Food was served through a small flap at the bottom of the door, just like in the movies. Forced marches and cleaning duty were a thing of the past. No one came in or out, and I wasn’t permitted outside my little room.

  Time moves differently when you have nothing to occupy it. It felt like I was stuck on an island in an endless ocean, nothing around me for miles. The kind of place where everything that came before and after didn’t seem all that important. The only thing that did seem to matter were the people I wanted with me on my little island.

  I thought about my dad, of course, but mainly my friends. After all, they became my family the day I arrived at Leavenworth. Almost losing Rocky made me realize I’d be as devastated at the loss of one of them as a blood relative. We’d been through so much together—more than normal teenagers going about their days in blissful ignorance at just how good their lives were. Being locked up in prison wouldn’t have been the same without them.

  As they often did, my thoughts eventually meandered to Xander. The last time I saw him was when I was being dragged out of the main hall. Had they punished him for trying to come after me? Knowing him, he hadn’t gone down without a fight.

  It was strange. We’d gone years not saying a word to one another, and now twenty-four hours without talking to Xander seemed like an eternity. I thought about the way he picked wildflowers for no other reason than to cheer me up. The way he made physical contact whenever possible, even if it was only a brush of his hand against mine. How he admitted he liked me. Even if it wasn’t the same way I’d always liked him, he showed me that he cared now and that was enough. I seemed to be enough.

  A second tray of food arrived, giving me some idea of the amount
of time that had passed. How long would they keep me here?

  I didn’t have to wonder long. Shortly after I finished my meal, the door opened and Mr. Fletcher waltzed in. Without preamble, he said, “Let’s go.”

  “Where are you taking me?”

  He leveled me with a look like that was the stupidest question in the world. “To see your father, of course.”

  Nothing he said could have surprised me more. He made it seem as if he’d broken his promise. Why the change of heart?

  Unless he was lying again. It was highly probable he wanted me to cooperate, and this was the dangling carrot in front of the horse. Except I was no horse.

  “Where are you really taking me?” I asked.

  “As I stated, we’re going to see your father.” He sounded irritated. I doubted he rarely had to repeat himself to anyone. “You don’t think I’m telling you the truth?” he asked.

  Uh, no?

  “I said I’d let you see him, didn’t I?”

  “If you tell a big enough lie and tell it frequently enough, it will be believed.”

  A look of pure shock stole the irritated expression right off Mr. Fletcher’s face. “You’re not the only one who’s read Mein Kampf,” I told him. “AP Literature was my favorite class.”

  He recovered quickly. “Interesting. I didn’t realize they were teaching anything beneficial in school these days.”

  “Maybe you’d know that if you paid more attention to your kids.”

  Did I really just say that? The burn from the slap across my face indicated I did.

  “How dare you,” he said. “Unlike most, I am willing to make sacrifices. You will not judge me for doing what’s right.” Right being highly subjective in this case.

  And yes, I was judging him. The verdict? Guilty of being a sadistic sociopath. Not that I wanted him here with us, but I was glad Mr. Fletcher wasn’t home with his children. Zoe and Zane deserved a better father than he was capable of being.

  “I shouldn’t even take you to your dad now,” he said. My muscles tensed. “However… despite what you may believe, I am a man of my word.”

  I kept my mouth shut as I followed him out of the room. Two guards waited for us outside, and I couldn’t help but wonder if they’d overheard our conversation. Then I realized it didn’t matter if they had.

  As we began to climb a set of stairs, Mr. Fletcher said, “The twins asked about you a lot, you know.”

  I stumbled on a step, a lump forming in my throat. Zoe and Zane were like the siblings I never had. I’d thought about them so many times during my imprisonment and hated the idea they were hurting because of me. “They still think I’m dead.”

  It wasn’t really a question, but he answered anyway. “As it should be. As you should be. And if it weren’t for us, you would be.”

  I scowled at him. Did Mr. Fletcher want a thank you after everything he’d put me through?

  He shouldn’t hold his breath. I never asked for this so-called superpower. And maybe I wouldn’t be alive without it, but at least I’d have a life. This… this was no life.

  A thought occurred to me. Maybe I would still be alive without my ability.

  “Did you start the fire that night?”

  He didn’t respond at first. When he finally did, what he said once again rocked my world off its axis.

  “We had an inkling as to what your power was. So yes, although I didn’t personally start the fire, it was planned.” I came to a screeching halt in the stairwell.

  Mr. Fletcher stopped and turned to me. “I knew you’d take care of the twins. Though admittedly, I didn’t think it would get out of control like that,” he added. As if that made it all okay.

  Why did anything surprise me anymore? Seriously. If I somehow made it out of this prison in one piece, I was going to have a hard time not thinking the worst in people. Rocky’s jaded view of the world made more sense every day.

  Something he said suddenly struck me. “How would you have known what my power was?” I asked him.

  There seemed to be no rhyme or reason as to which kid got what power, and it wasn’t like I’d died before.

  Mr. Fletcher’s explanation was as cold and lifeless as he was. “You survived your bout with cancer when the doctors said you should have died. They called it a ‘miracle.’ Except I don’t believe in miracles. If you hadn’t noticed already, I’m a firm believer in science.” A pause, and then, “I did think it curious that your power manifested early, but I assumed the disease had somehow activated it,” he said with a shrug.

  Since he seemed to know everything else about me, I found it strange Mr. Fletcher wasn’t aware of the bone marrow transplant that saved my life. Had my mother kept it a secret from him on purpose? It seemed even she didn’t trust this man.

  We began walking again and emerged from the stairwell in a corridor I hadn’t been in before. They all looked basically the same, but there was a distinct smell to this one I couldn’t place. Like other hallways I’d been in, this one had rows upon rows of doors leading to what probably amounted to nothing good. Yet somehow, it was different.

  I wanted to believe it was because my father was behind one of those doors, but I refused to set myself up for disappointment again.

  Halfway down the hall, Mr. Fletcher stopped in front of an unmarked door. “Five minutes,” he said. My heart skidded to a stop as he pulled out a set of keys and unlocked the door. Could it be—

  He opened the door, and my heart once again beat in my chest. In fact, it took off like a racehorse, and so did I. “Dad!” I yelled, running as fast as my feet could carry me.

  He wrapped his arms around me the moment I was within reach. “Phoebe,” he croaked.

  Tears flooded my eyes—the kind that healed hearts rather than bodies. I didn’t think I had any left in me after yesterday. Clearly, I was wrong.

  Dad pulled away, analyzing every inch of my face. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” he asked.

  He looked so much older than even the last time I saw him. His face was gaunt, and lines and shadows crisscrossed his skin. But he was alive, and that was all that mattered.

  I nodded, though I didn’t know who I was trying to fool. He, more than anyone, would know I wasn’t okay. I had no intention of telling him just how not okay I was.

  Avoiding his penetrating gaze, I glanced around the room for the first time since entering it. It looked like we were in a laboratory. Not unlike the one where my father used to work, actually.

  “What is this place?” I asked. “What are you doing in here?”

  He frowned. “It seems the SCC still considers my skills useful. I’m doing research,” he said, and my heart dropped like a stone. It was really getting a workout today.

  “Marcus…” a voice warned.

  My head whipped around. I hadn’t realized Mr. Fletcher followed me in here.

  “Who is she going to tell… the other kids?” I turned back around to face my dad when I heard the fire in his voice. “It’s not like they could do anything about it.”

  Mr. Fletcher didn’t respond, and Dad continued. “My job is to recreate some of the more valuable of the supernatural powers.”

  My eyes widened. “Can you do that?”

  “With enough time and resources, yes. I think I can.”

  “You must,” Mr. Fletcher butted in. “For the good of humanity.”

  That fire in Dad’s voice was now in his eyes. “You’re one to talk about humanity,” he said. “You lost every shred of that when you decided to lock up our kids.”

  Mr. Fletcher scoffed. “I know your field is science, Marcus, but surely you’ve heard of the greater good. What we’re doing here is what’s best for everyone, not a select few.”

  “So he’s forcing you to figure out how to make everyone a supernatural,” I guessed.

  “Oh, no,” Dad said, shaking his head. “This technology wouldn’t be available for everyone. With the world in upheaval, countries across the world seek advantages wherever they can
find them.” Dad nodded toward Mr. Fletcher. “The SCC is planning to sell our findings to the highest bidder, likely to be used to create super-soldiers.”

  Of course it all came down to the almighty dollar. But super-soldiers?

  My palms began to sweat. “Why not just use us?”

  “Some powers are more viable than others,” Mr. Fletcher said, interrupting us again. “We want to take the best ones—the strongest ones—and replicate them. Take Venom, for example. Imagine soldiers with that ability.”

  That explained why Venom disappeared. His power was being extracted the same way mine was. But where was he now?

  “And, my dear, you are the pièce de résistance,” Mr. Fletcher said.

  I went cold all over. “You want a bunch of humans who can never die?”

  “Wouldn’t that ensure the preservation of our race?” Mr. Fletcher pulled up a chair and sat primly on it. “Come on, Phoebe. I’m not the bad guy here. These are tough times, and you’re a smart girl, so I assume you know what they say about those.”

  “Smart enough to know you may not think you’re the bad guy, but you are.”

  “Phoebe,” Dad warned.

  But I was too ticked off to heed his warning. Mr. Fletcher almost killed me, along with his children, as a means to his nefarious end.

  “I also know you hired a hit on my dad when he found out what you guys were really up to. So the ‘greater good’ doesn’t really cover everyone, does it?” Sarcasm dripped from my voice.

  Mr. Fletcher glowered. “I wasn’t responsible for what happened to your father. I’ve always considered him a friend.” My eyebrow shot up. I’d hate to see how he treated his enemies. “I didn’t want him dead then, and I don’t now. In fact, I’m the only reason he’s still alive.”

  His words rang true. And though I had nothing but animosity for this man, I’d give him that.

  He continued. “Your father and I simply didn’t agree on the SCC’s new direction. But he was wrong. The way it is now will be much more effective.”

  “And make you more money,” my dad growled. “Only, you better hope the people you know in our government don’t find out you’re helping others.”