Hangman's Army: Lake Of Sins, #3

by L. S. O'Dea

  “Stay still or we’ll all get caught.” She began picking the lock.

  “Do you know how to do that?”

  Her head was bent over his hands and the light reflected off her hair as it slipped free from the bun and flowed onto her shoulders. Brown was too tame a word for it as highlights of red and gold created a cacophony of glorious hues. It was the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen. The latch clicked open.

  “Yep.” She grinned at him as she grabbed his other hand.

  The breath caught in his chest. She used to hide her fangs when smiling. She’d been young and unsure of herself, but now she accepted who she was. Her confidence was in every gesture and move she made. She was magnificent. His eyes traveled down her body, searching for the curves hidden by the cloak. He blinked and raised his gaze to the wall. This was Tim’s daughter. But she’s not your niece. That didn’t matter. She was young and innocent, not for him. He took a deep breath, choking on her perfume.

  “If you don’t like the smell, stop breathing.” She continued working on the lock.

  “That was the Council’s plan, so unless you want to join me you’d better hurry.” He’d forgotten about her smart mouth.

  She raised a brow at him as the second latch opened. She knelt and started working on the chains around his ankles.

  “This is taking too long.” He repeated as he glanced at the door. “Other Guards will be coming.”

  She unlocked another latch and moved on to the next. “One more to go.”

  The door burst open. Trinity jumped to her feet, claws bared. Hugh shifted to block her, but she pushed in front of him, sending him a dirty look.

  “It’s us.” Curtis held up his hands as he and Jackson stepped into the room.

  “Curtis is with you?” That’d explain why the young Guard had never taken him down for a basement beating.

  “Sure am, High Hugh Truent.” Curtis slapped him on the back.

  “I...don’t call me that.” He hated that title. It represented the fool he’d been and he wasn’t that man anymore.

  They all glanced at him.

  “Okay, Hugh. Whatever you want.” Curtis’ smiled faded a bit.

  Trinity gave Hugh a disgusted look as she knelt back at his feet. She looked up at Curtis from under her lashes. “Don’t pay any attention to him. If he’s not griping about something, he’s not happy.” She smiled, her eyes meeting his for a moment in challenge and then flashing over to Curtis.

  Curtis blushed.

  “Hurry up, Trinity.” Tim glared at the young Guard.

  “I’m only irritable when you’re around.” He hadn’t missed the exchange between her and Curtis. He didn’t envy Tim. Shy, unsure Trinity had been trouble. Confident, flirtatious Trinity would be a nightmare for her parents.

  “Almost done, Dad. I told you that you’d be glad I learned how to do this.” She unhooked the last cuff.

  “It’s who you learned it from that I don’t like,” said Tim.

  “Let’s go.” Hugh rubbed his wrist and moved toward the door.

  “Wait. We need to check you for a tracking device.” Jackson blocked his path, a Tracking Pinpointer in his hand. It was long and thin like a metal stick.

  “What are we going to do if I have one implanted?” It’d have to be removed, but sometimes the devices attached deep in the tissue.

  “Whatever we have to.” Trinity bared her claws.

  “Freedom comes at a price.” Tim grinned.

  “You don’t have to sound so happy about it.” Having a device the size of a piece of rice dug from his body by claws was not an experience he wanted to have.

  “Sorry. Has to be done.” Jackson turned on the pinpointer.

  “I’ll do it. You need to change.” She grabbed for the device.

  “I got it.” Jackson jerked away from her.

  “Stop arguing and let Jackson handle it.” The words came out almost a shout. He’d forgotten how annoying the squabbling of the other classes could be. “Jackson has experience with locating tracking devices and we need to hurry.”

  She stepped closer to him. “You’ve been locked up a long time, Hugh. You have no idea how experienced I am.”

  His eyes flew to Tim. She couldn’t mean that the way it sounded.

  “Don’t even,” said Tim, sending a glare at Curtis who was grinning at Trinity.

  “What did I say wrong this time?” Her eyes darted from one male to the next, red creeping into her cheeks.

  “Don’t worry about it, honey,” said Tim.

  “I’ll never learn if you don’t tell me.”

  “You’ll never learn by spending all your time hanging out in the forest with Gaar and Mirra,” said Tim.

  “Now, Dad? Really?”

  Tim closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath. “No. You’re right. We can talk about it later.”

  “We’ve talked about it enough,” she said under her breath.

  Jackson was trying unsuccessfully not to smile as he ran the wand up and down Hugh’s body.

  “What’s that about?” he whispered to the Guard.

  “Tim and Millie want her mated but”—Jackson glanced at her—“she’s not ready.”

  “I can hear you.” She didn’t bother to look up. “I’m sure Dad will tell you all about how I constantly disappoint him and Mom, but first we need to get out of here.”

  “We’re not disappointed in you, just your choices.” Tim’s tone was weary as if they’d had this discussion too many times.

  “That’s so much better,” she said.

  “All clear.” Jackson slipped the device into his pocket and started changing into the prison Guard’s uniform.

  “I told you they wouldn’t waste the money on a dead man,” said Curtis.

  “We had to be sure.” Jackson grinned at Hugh as he buttoned his shirt. “It’s too bad. It would’ve been fitting if they’d put your own invention inside of you.”

  “Yeah, a real shame.” He’d also forgotten what a warped sense of humor Guards had. He collected the weapons from the prison Guards. They didn’t carry guns but they did carry clubs.

  “You can’t have these. Not yet, anyway.” Jackson took the nightsticks from him. “Let’s go.”

  “As soon as we put the shackles back on him,” said Curtis.

  “No. What if I have to run?” He didn’t want to be chained, not ever again.

  “We won’t latch them.” Trinity grabbed his hands.

  “Be careful as you walk. You don’t want to lose these at a bad time.” Curtis tucked Hugh’s socks around the cuffs to keep them in place.

  “Kind of ironic, a Producer chaining an Almighty.” She hooked his handcuffs loosely around his wrists. “I like it.”

  “I don’t.” He wasn’t truly restrained. He could slip his hands free with little effort but after all these years, he didn’t want chains or locks anywhere near him.

  “Neither do we.” Her large, gold eyes were brittle.

  CHAPTER 2: HUGH

  HUGH WALKED BETWEEN JACKSON and Curtis as the group traveled down the hallway in the opposite direction of his cell. He shuffled his feet, trying to keep the cuffs from sliding. He’d saved Tim from Conguise once, but he’d never expected this. They were breaking him out of a maximum security prison. “Why are you doing this?” he whispered.

  “Shhh.” Jackson squeezed his arm. “There are two Guards up ahead.” His tone was so low that Hugh almost didn’t hear him.

  “Keep walking. No one is supposed to be down here,” Curtis said under his breath.

  He inhaled deeply, fighting to stay calm. If something went wrong, his wouldn’t be the only life lost. The two prison Guards stared at them. The younger one coughed and took a few steps back as they approached.

  “Stop,” said the older of the two Guards, his nose wrinkling as he turned his head away from Tim and Trinity. “What are you doing bringing this prisoner and the guests this way?”

  Their group stopped. Trinity and Tim let their
cloaks fall over their hands. Hugh kept his head down but only a little. If something happened he had to be ready to move.

  “Warden’s orders. This is Hugh Truent.” Curtis winked. “I think the warden has something special planned for him.”

  “Hugh Truent.” The older Guard approached and leaned close, sniffing Hugh’s neck. “Stink of a traitor.”

  He stiffened. This wasn’t the first time he’d been called that by one of the Guards, but it always stung. He’d tried to free them from inequality and servitude, but a lot of Guards were happy with their lot in life. He’d never understand their willingness to give up freedom for a little comfort and security.

  “Where’re you headed?” The Guard continued to snarl at him.

  Hugh’s heart beat so fast that the Guards could probably hear it. Trinity’s claws peaked out from the cuff of her cloak. She was nervous too and ready.

  Curtis hesitated before saying, “Downstairs.”

  “I’ll take it from here,” said the older Guard. “I’ve been meaning to escort this one to the basement again.”

  His arms trembled and his chains clanked together. They couldn’t leave him. He wasn’t ready to die, not now that he’d started to hope.

  “I told you to go.” The older Guard shoved Curtis.

  Curtis bowed his head, grabbed Jackson by the arm and turned to leave. Hugh struggled to keep from following them. It was over, at least for him. Their escape had been compromised, but if he went to the basement with these Guards, it might give the others time to get out of the prison unharmed.

  He leaned forward, his lips close to Tim’s ear. “It’s okay. Get out of here.”

  Trinity launched herself at the older Guard and Tim was only a fraction of a second behind her. Jackson shoved Hugh aside as he and Curtis jumped into the fray. Tim was flung against the wall by the younger of the two prison Guards, but Curtis and Jackson tackled him before he could attack Tim. This left Trinity battling the more seasoned, older Guard. Her eyes gleamed and she almost vibrated with anticipation as the Guard stalked toward her. The little fool. That Guard was huge compared to her. One swipe of his fist could break her neck.

  He kicked off his shackles and raced forward, jumping onto the Guard’s back. The Guard grabbed at him, but he wrapped his chains around his enemy’s throat and pulled tight. The Guard punched, hitting him alongside his head and body. His vision blurred, but he refused to let go. The Guard threw himself backward, smashing Hugh against the wall. Pain streaked up his spine, but he tightened his hold.

  “Stay back,” he yelled as Trinity raced toward him. The Guard dropped to his knees, his arms flailing instead of hitting.

  Jackson pushed past Trinity and raised his club, bashing the prison Guard on the head. Hugh followed the Guard to the floor, tightening the chains. There was going to be one less Guard to torture prisoners and call him a traitor.

  “Let go,” said Jackson. “He’s unconscious. Stop!”

  Jackson grabbed his arm, but he twisted away. He wasn’t done yet. This Guard deserved to die. Jackson tried to pull Hugh’s fingers off the chain. In another second the Guard would be dead. It’d be worth a broken finger or two.

  “Let go!” Jackson punched him in the jaw.

  He fell backward, bumping into the wall. He wanted that prison Guard dead. That Guard had dragged him into the basement and had beaten him until he couldn’t walk. He’d pissed blood for three days. He strode over to Jackson who stood between him and the other Guard. “Don’t ever stop me again.”

  “I don’t obey you. I have no master.” Jackson snarled.

  “Boys.” Trinity moved between them, putting her hand on Jackson’s chest. “Fight later. We need to move.”

  “There’s no reason to kill him.” Jackson pushed Trinity’s hand away.

  “You don’t know him,” he said.

  Trinity patted Hugh on the shoulder, shoving him a few inches away from Jackson. “I may have too many friends, but Jackson is the softie of the group. He never wants to kill anyone.” She shoved them both back another step and headed down the hallway.

  “That’s not true.” Jackson glared after her.

  “Afraid it is,” said Tim as he followed his daughter.

  “Hate to agree with a House Servant, but...” Curtis shrugged and jogged after Tim and Trinity.

  Hugh fought the urge to kick the unconscious Guard. It’d start another fight with Jackson and Trinity was right, they needed to get out of there. “We should go.”

  Jackson nodded. “Sorry about your jaw.”

  Jackson was his friend. A punch in the face wasn’t going to change that. “Not the first time or the last, I’m sure.”

  “I’d put money on that,” said Jackson as they ran to catch up with the others.

  They passed a utility room, the smell of bleach and the hum of machines permeated into the hallway. They stopped in front of a small door that was built into the wall. It was about four feet off the ground and about four feet wide and six feet tall.

  “I’ll go first.” Trinity opened the door, braced her hands on the concrete and hopped onto the ledge, her legs disappearing into the brick.

  Curtis rushed forward, knocking Tim and Jackson out of the way. He grabbed her around the waist, stopping her from going any farther into the opening.

  “What are you doing? Let go of me.” She elbowed him in the chest.

  “Listen,” said Curtis. “Under the machines.”

  She stopped struggling and her eyes widened as she turned wrapping her arms around Curtis. She almost clawed her way over his body, fighting to get out of the wall. Jackson and Tim’s faces paled and they yanked Curtis and Trinity backward.

  “What is it?” All he heard were the sounds in the hallway. Sometimes, he hated being an Almighty.

  As soon as Trinity’s feet were on the floor, Curtis let his arms fall from around her waist but he didn’t move away. Tim needed to watch that Guard.

  “Trash compactor. It wasn’t supposed to be running.” Tim’s eyes narrowed on Curtis.

  “The alarms must have been raised,” said Curtis.

  “I don’t hear anything,” said Tim.

  “They’re silent. A signal to the Lead Guards’ walkie-talkies.” Curtis stared at the garbage shoot, his eyes wide. “They also lock all the doors and turn on the compactor.”

  He grimaced. Smashed with the garbage. That was cold. “We were supposed to leave with the trash?” He wasn’t as fastidious as he used to be, jail had a tendency to do that to a fellow, but still...the trash?

  “Yeah.” There was a hint of panic on Curtis’ face as he turned to Jackson. “Now, what do we do?”

  “You don’t have a backup plan?” Hugh’s eyes darted from one to another. “Even Barney gave me a backup plan.”

  “We have a backup plan,” said Tim.

  “But it’s for when we get outside of the jail,” said Jackson.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” He wanted to scream at the heavens. “You never considered that we might have a problem getting out of the maximum security prison? You know the place that was built to keep people inside.”

  “We were more worried about how to get away once we were outside the building. Having fire and water covering two sides of this place doesn’t leave us with many options,” said Jackson.

  “Plus, we were promised that getting out of the prison wouldn’t be a problem. Weren’t we, Curtis?” Tim said the last part more as a declaration of betrayal than a question.

  “Leave Curtis alone and do something useful like trying to find another way out.” Jackson walked down the hallway and started searching the unconscious Guards.

  Tim grumbled something under his breath, but followed Trinity in the other direction.

  He should help, but he couldn’t move. He’d been so close to freedom, to life. This couldn’t be the end. He had to think. He’d try anything but even he couldn’t believe he was going to say this. “Could we still go down the trash shoot?”


  Everyone but Jackson looked at him.

  “I know the compactor is running but how long does it take to”—he brought his hands together—“smash?”

  “He has a point,” said Trinity. “If we’re fast enough—”

  “We won’t be,” said Curtis. “Someone else already tried...being faster and it isn’t just a compactor anymore. There are blades on the bottom and top.”

  “Cut into tiny bits. Do you think that’s more or less painful than hanging? It’d be less public.” He could feel hope slipping away. It was such a precarious visitor.

  “Maybe, these will help.” Jackson held up a set of keys.

  Curtis jogged over and snatched them from the other Guard. “One of these should open the stairwell. We can still get to the basement.”

  “Won’t it be secured?” asked Jackson. “You said they locked the doors.”

  “There are four exits downstairs. We should be able to make it to one of them and Trinity can pick the lock.” Curtis nodded at the two unconscious Guards. “I disabled the cameras but they’ll be back on soon.”

  “No reason to leave a trail.” Jackson bent and grabbed one of the prison Guards under the arms. “The utility room?”

  “Yeah. We can redirect the camera in there.” Curtis grabbed the other Guard and started dragging him down the hallway.

  Hugh’s heart picked up pace. There was still a chance. Trinity brushed past him and he sneezed.

  “The smell.” He grabbed her arm, stopping her.

  Her brow wrinkled in confusion for a moment and then her eyes widened. “Dad, we need to lose the cloaks.”

  She’d pulled hers over her head as she headed toward the compactor. She rubbed it along the wall, leaving scent, and then pitched it into the darkness. Tim did the same.

  “Thanks,” she said, as she passed Hugh, giving him a crooked smile. “My nose had quit noticing the stench hours ago. Self-preservation, I suppose.”

  He snorted on a laugh, the sound odd, more of a rumble in his chest. He hadn’t laughed in years. It felt good.

  Jackson and Curtis left the utility room, shutting the door behind them.

  “This way,” said Curtis as he took off down the hallway, the others following.