Break Out (Supernatural Prison Trilogy Book 3)

by Aella Black

  “She will. She’ll forgive you,” I said, panicked. Blood coming out of the mouth was never a good sign. “I just need to—”

  “Please, just hold my hand,” she said weakly. Tears now poured from her eyes, trailing down her cheeks. “And tell her I’m sorry.”

  “No, you can tell her yourself,” I said fiercely.

  Lucy struggled to breathe. “All I ever wanted was to be free.”

  “You will be,” I said, my voice catching. “We all will.”

  “I am now.”

  What little grip Lucy had on my hand loosened, and her eyes dimmed. Then she stopped breathing altogether.

  My eyes welled with tears, and I reached down and closed hers. Then I glanced around at the fighting going on around me. Guards versus inmates, the bodies of both littering the floor. A white-hot rage filled me.

  Lucy and the others would not die in vain.

  19

  Phoebe

  I opened my eyes, and my hand went to my throat. No gash, jagged or otherwise. There was dried, crusty blood though. How long had I been out?

  Pushing myself up, I looked around and frowned.

  “Phoebe? Whoa, slow down.” Dad’s hand landed on my back, and he sat on the ground next to me.

  “What’s going on?” I asked. “Why didn’t they take me away?”

  Dad’s eyes cut to the guards at the door. “I don’t know. After… after you died, Fletcher left the room.” His voice caught, and he gingerly gathered me in his arms. He felt like home. “I’m so sorry, Phoebe. I couldn’t keep watching you suffer.”

  “It’s okay,” I said softly, still a little shocked he had killed me. I was grateful for it, but I never would have thought he’d have the guts to do it.

  “No, it’s not. None of this is okay.” His grip tightened. “You shouldn’t even be here, much less endure all that you have.”

  I pulled away and looked him in the eyes. “Dad. There’s no way you could have known this would happen. I love you, and I forgive you. But you need to forgive yourself too.”

  His eyes filled. “I love you too, sweetheart. And I promise I’ll work on it.”

  “Good, because I—”

  A shout sounded outside the door. Then something heavy banged against it. Dad scrambled up from the floor and reached down to help me up. From our positions behind his desk, we could see the guards glance at one another in confusion before drawing their weapons. Apparently, they didn’t know what was going on either.

  One of them opened the door, and a hairy, hulking figure barreled in. Wolf. With a growl, he pounced on the guards before either had a chance to blink—much less shoot.

  The fight was vicious, but it didn’t last long. By the time it ended, my father’s lab was destroyed. Wolf had taken both guards down, but, to my surprise, left them both alive. Then he turned to us. “Don’t just stand there!” he barked. “Let’s go!”

  Go? Go where?

  All at once, I remembered the fight between my father and Mr. Fletcher that led to my mercy killing. Mr. Fletcher had accused my dad of being in contact with people outside the prison. Dad admitted it but wouldn’t say how he’d gotten the messages out. Mr. Fletcher had been livid about some government officials coming today for a visit. Had that already happened?

  “What’s going on, Wolf?” Dad demanded.

  The familiarity in his tone gave me pause. He was the one my father had been protecting? I mean, I knew it was a possibility after finding out he’d left the notes, but still. This was Wolf.

  “It’s chaos in the main hall,” Wolf said, breathless. “Fletcher’s gone crazy. He’s shooting everyone up, and if you’re going to get out, now’s the time to do it.”

  “He’s killing people?” I asked, my heart in my throat. Those were my friends out there. Xander was out there. If bullets were flying—

  “We’re not going anywhere until Griff goes down,” Dad said, pushing past Wolf.

  “Dad, wait!” I called but followed as quickly as I could. I had to step over two more guards, who it appeared Wolf had knocked out on his way in.

  Dad slowed and turned to me, cupping my face in his large hands. “Go, Phoebe. Wolf can get you out of here. It’s not safe.”

  “I’m not leaving you or my friends,” I said firmly.

  “Phoebe, please…”

  “No. I thought I lost you twice now, and I won’t ever go through that again. I’m going.”

  He nodded once. “In case something happens, please know I was never going to give Griff what he wanted. I was only stalling until reinforcements arrived.”

  Somehow I’d known that all along, but it was still good to hear. “Nothing’s going to happen, Dad.” Now if only was I was as sure about that.

  “Phoenix.” I turned to find Wolf offering me a handgun. I took it, shuddering at the weight of such a deadly weapon—one that had killed me more times than I could count.

  “Thank you,” I said, putting it in the oversized pocket of my uniform.

  He shrugged. “You’re going to need it.”

  “For the gun, and your help,” I clarified.

  “I kind of owe you, right?” Yeah, he kind of did.

  Without waiting for a response, he handed another gun to my father. As soon as he had a good grip on it, I said, “Let’s go.” Then I took off before Dad could try to talk me out of going.

  We ran down several flights of stairs until we reached the main level. The only guards that remained at their posts were on the ground, likely taken out by Wolf on his way to get us.

  Sprinting through a corridor, I heard the chaos before I saw it. The sounds of screaming, shouting, and guns firing only made me run faster. Wolf, now in front of me, turned the corner that led to the great hall. I raced through the open doors and skidded to a stop.

  The sight in front of me was pure carnage. Bodies belonging to both guards and inmates lay sprawled on the blood-coated floor. That unmistakable metallic scent mixed with gunpowder and sweat in a nauseating combination. It was altogether horrific, and yet… this was, quite literally, what my powers were designed for.

  My gaze landed on Woody, writhing on the ground. Blood poured from a wound in his shoulder, and I rushed toward him. At this point, it didn’t matter who had wronged who in the past. We were all united in our desire to get out of here alive.

  I dropped to my knees, coaxing tears to my eyes. I’d been practicing with my dad in the lab in an effort to avoid excruciating pain. The practice paid off. “You’re going to be okay,” I told Woody.

  “Phoenix… we’re all going to die.” He whimpered when I took hold of his arm, but he didn’t fight me.

  “You’re not going to die,” I said, blinking rapidly.

  Because there wasn’t a second to lose, I reached up, swiped the tears from my eyes, and placed both hands on Woody—one on his open mouth, the other on his open wound.

  He yelped, but it was necessary. Dad still hadn’t narrowed down the “how” aspect of my healing ability. Since ingesting the tears seemed to be key, covering both bases couldn’t hurt.

  “Stay and fight or make a run for it. Either way, good luck, Woody.” At this point, I knew the healing would happen, so I got up and left him behind, still staring at me in surprise.

  Then I hurried to find the next injured inmate and repeated the process. I’d heal as many as I could, yet somehow, I already knew that wouldn’t be enough.

  “Phoenix!” I spun around and spotted Cooper crouching behind a pillar with Birdie.

  I ran to them. “Are you guys okay?” I asked, checking for any visible injuries.

  Cooper had some blood smeared across his lip, but other than that, he looked okay. Birdie had tearstains streaking her face. “We thought we’d never see you again,” she whispered brokenly.

  I took her hand. “I’m here now. And we’re all getting out, okay? You two just stay low and out of the way.”

  They both nodded. I wished there were a safer place for them, but sporadic gunfire stil
l echoed throughout the hall. Plus, there was no telling how many guards manned the exits. Their best bet—the safest bet—was to stay here.

  I turned around and instantly spotted platinum blonde hair fanned out on the floor.

  Lucy.

  “No,” I whispered, running toward her. But Dane stepped in my way.

  “You can’t help her now,” he said. “We have to go. Nothing good will come out of this.”

  I tried to side-step him, my eyes glued on Lucy’s still form. Dane was telling the truth. Lucy was dead. And though she’d hurt me in so many ways, my first thought was that I wished I could have gotten to her in time.

  My second thought was that if Lucy were dead… “Where is everybody?” I asked frantically. “Where are my friends?”

  “Phoenix, listen to me.” Dane grabbed my shoulders and shook them. “We can’t win. There are too many guards, and more might be on the way. We have to run.” He was pleading with me, but it almost sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

  “Run where? Are you going to run your whole life? Because that’s what you’ll be doing. Those guards, Mr. Fletcher… the SCC. They’re not going to let you go anywhere,” I said, flinging my hand to the side. “Take a stand, Dane. You have friends here too—friends who look up to you. If you don’t do it for yourself, do it for them.”

  “So you want me to die?” he asked.

  “No, but do you want to save yourself and leave everyone else to die?”

  He looked like he was going to cry. Then—either my words made their mark, or the dire circumstances changed his mind—his expression shifted, and Dane appeared to steel himself for the fight.

  Until a bullet whizzed between our two bodies and his newfound resolve crumbled. “I’m doing what I can to survive!” he shouted, backing away from me. “You wouldn’t understand. You can’t die!”

  With those parting words, he turned and raced toward the doors, shoving aside anyone who got in his way.

  I shook my head. I’d lost precious moments trying to convince Dane when I knew he would only ever put himself first. Some lessons I’d always learn the hard way, I supposed.

  And though some people weren’t worth my time, others were.

  “Xander!” I screamed, my head swiveling to look in every direction. I prayed he wasn’t among the bodies lying on the bloody floor.

  Dozens of inmates clustered in the center of the room, and I wondered if Xander was among them. It looked like the kind of protective detail he’d be part of… and that’s exactly what it was.

  I’d almost forgotten about the government officials until I spied business suits between blue and gray uniforms. Despite the horrifying scene playing out around me, it was a relief to see them. Our secret was truly out now. We just had to survive a little longer.

  But Xander wasn’t with that group.

  I spotted my father, who’d wisely found a sniping position, and I ran over to him. “Have you seen Xander?” I asked.

  He shook his head while looking down at his gun. “No, and I’m out of bullets.”

  I reached into my pocket and held out the gun Wolf gave me. “Here, take mine. I haven’t used it and don’t plan to.”

  Dad looked up at me. “No, you might need to use it.”

  “I don’t even know how to use it,” I reminded him, “and it won’t do good in my pocket.”

  He took the gun and gave me a quick hug. Then, he shifted his attention back to the guards who were trying to barricade the doors.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a person go flying across the room. I looked over to see who did the throwing… and there he was. Xander, blood streaked across his face and arms, fought multiple guards in hand-to-hand combat.

  My heart leapt. He was still alive!

  He caught sight of me seconds later and shoved a guard down before kicking him unconscious. Then he ran to me at full speed. We collided, arms wrapping around each other.

  I could have stayed that way all day. Reluctantly, I pulled back. “Did you start all this?” I yelled over the noise.

  “I might have had something to do with it.” He wasn’t being cheeky, or humble, or anything. He was just being Xander.

  “Reinforcements should be here any minute,” he continued, nodding in the officials’ direction. “I’m just trying to keep as many of us alive as possible until then.”

  My heart swelled. Mr. Fletcher had once called Xander a ‘hero.’ Though the way he’d said it didn’t sound like a compliment, it was true all the same. Xander was a hero. And he was my hero.

  I grabbed his jaw and planted a firm kiss on his lips. Then I pulled away quickly. “I’m going to heal who I can. Don’t die, okay?”

  His lips curved upward. “I’ll do my best.”

  Then we split up, him diving back into the fight, me trying to help whoever I could. But it was getting harder to make the tears flow. Why couldn’t it have been saliva? I could have just spit on people, and everything would have been fine.

  A few I reached too late. No matter how many tears I shed, their bodies stayed cold and stiff. Boys and girls the same age as me—and some far younger—now dead.

  And for what?

  Pain ripped through my shoulder, and I screamed, ducking away. But it was too late. I looked up to see Wolf and Heath tackle the guard who shot me. I wasn’t sure when Heath switched to our side—or if he’d been with us all along—but I was grateful for his help.

  Wincing in pain, I turned to look for my father. Instead, I found myself face-to-face with Mr. Fletcher.

  “You’ve really messed things up,” he growled. Then he pointed his gun at me.

  I squeezed my eyes shut as the gun went off… and then again. But no bullets hit me. When my eyes opened, I saw the satisfied smirk in his eyes.

  Turning, I saw Heath lying on the ground, still and silent. Beside him was Wolf.

  Blood poured from his stomach, but he looked up and growled defiantly at Mr. Fletcher. Another shot rang out, and a bullet lodged between Wolf’s eyes.

  I stood in complete shock. It was too late—for both of them. They’d helped us, and it cost them their lives. Just like Oscar.

  I whipped around, fury blurring my vision. With a cry, I lunged at Mr. Fletcher. Another bullet tore through my thigh. I fell forward and he caught me, hauling me toward him until I was inches from his face. “I’m going to take away everything you love,” he hissed. “You may get to keep your life, but you’ll wish you hadn’t.”

  Then he turned me around, his arm locked around my throat. I saw my father grappling with a guard on the ground. A blade flashed. I desperately tried to get out of Mr. Fletcher’s grasp to go help Dad, but the madman holding me turned around again.

  This time, I faced the battle raging in the center of the room.

  Like a magnet, my gaze was drawn directly to Xander. I watched him punch a guard once, twice, and then a third time until the guy stayed down. Then he turned, his eyes landing on me.

  Rage filled his face as he ran toward me. “Xander, stop!” I screamed.

  The gunshot was so loud my ears rang. Xander’s eyes widened, and he stumbled backward. A dark spot appeared on his chest and grew rapidly. Then he fell to his knees.

  I screamed and cursed, twisted and kicked, but I couldn’t manage to break free of Mr. Fletcher’s tight grip. Not with one arm and one leg useless.

  “Watch,” Mr. Fletcher whispered in my ear. “He’s dying, and you won’t be able to do anything about it.”

  “I hate you!” I spit out. “I’ll kill you. I swear I will.”

  He chuckled, and I saw Xander fall to the ground, visibly struggling to breathe. If I thought all my tears were gone, I was wrong. The boy I loved—the boy I’d always loved—was dying right in front of me, and the only thing I could do was watch.

  Mr. Fletcher suddenly swore, his grip on me loosening. Tex appeared, as did Rocky, who knocked the gun out of my captor’s hand. “Go!” she shouted. “I’ll take care of him.”


  I didn’t need to be told twice.

  Lightheaded, I began limping over to Xander. Halfway there, I tripped. Pain splintered through my leg, and I fell, but now pain was as familiar to me as my own name. Instead of curling into a ball and giving into it, I pushed to my knees and crawled across the cold, bloody floor.

  “Hold on, Xander!” I cried. “Hold on!”

  The closer I got, the worse he looked. His eyes were closed, his face deathly pale.

  It was just like the nightmares I’d had. Again and again, I’d watched Xander die, powerless to do anything about it.

  But I wasn’t powerless now.

  Because it couldn’t be too late. It just couldn’t.

  As soon as I reached him, I felt for a pulse. He had none. He wasn’t even breathing.

  I swiped the tears from my eyes and placed my hands on him… one on the wound, the other on his mouth. It worked with Woody and so many others, and it would work for Xander.

  But it didn’t.

  I brushed back the hair from his forehead, my throat convulsing with sobs. “Please don’t leave me,” I whispered. More tears dropped onto his still chest. “Xander, wake up.”

  But he didn’t.

  “No, no, no,” I begged. “You are not dying. Not while I’m here.”

  But it was too late.

  The person who made me happiest in this world just left it.

  “I love you, Xander,” I whispered. Then I pressed a final desperate kiss against his lips.

  20

  Xander

  “I love you, Xander.”

  The sweetest words I’d ever heard, and I couldn’t respond to them.

  All I could see and feel was darkness. Then Phoebe’s voice pierced through the dark like the light that she was.

  Then I felt something. Also sweet, but unbelievably soft too. A kiss. Her kiss.

  And I felt warmth. From her breath, her life… her light. The kind of light worth living for.

  Fighting back the darkness, I clawed my way back toward the light. Air filled my lungs again and beats sounded from too-silent heart.