Jailbreak (The Ungovernable Book 2)

by R. M. Olson

  There was another silence. Finally Lev said, “Tomorrow, then.”

  “See you on the other side,” said Jez, in a jaunty tone. “I’m going to bed.”

  Her com clicked off, and one by one, the others’ did as well.

  Lev lay back on his cot, but he couldn’t fight the faint unease that had settled into the pit of his stomach.

  Just over twenty-four hours.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  YSBEL, SECTOR 1, Day 11

  For the fourth time that day, Ysbel ducked her head and tried not to catch the eyes of the guard.

  There were more of them than there usually were. She didn’t have the schedules that Lev had, but there were more guards than there should have been.

  She shook her head, trying to push back her unease. They’d been stealing supplies steadily since for over a week. Most of it, she hoped, hadn’t been noticed, and Jez had done a frankly excellent job at distracting their attention, but they were suspicious about something.

  She didn’t like it. Still, it couldn’t be helped, not when they were trying to pull the plans together on such short notice. They only had to last until tomorrow morning. Then this would be over. They’d be free.

  She’d be able to see Tanya, not in her memories, not through a glass, but Tanya, in person. She’d be able to hold her. For the first time in five years, she’d be with her wife again. Even the thought brought the ache of tears to her eyes. She shook her head resolutely.

  Enough time for that tomorrow. Today, she had to make sure everything was perfect, and she had to keep out of the way of the guards.

  Her heart was pounding, her chest tight.

  “Prisoner 1559.”

  She jerked her head up. A guard stood in front of her. Behind the guard, one of the prisoners was shaking his head helplessly.

  “Yes?” she said, looking up slowly, forcing the emotion from her expression. “What do you need?”

  “You dropped something,” said the guard, his face cold. She glanced down, heart pounding.

  Her mop lay on the floor, beside the bucket.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I was startled when you called me. I won’t stop working again.”

  “Good,” said the guard. “See that you don’t.”

  There was something unreadable in his voice, and the knot in her chest tightened.

  Only one more day. Only until tomorrow morning. That’s all she needed.

  By the time they were led back to their cells, her hands were almost shaking with nerves.

  Her hands never shook. That would be a dangerous trait in someone who manufactured explosives.

  But she’d never played for stakes this high before. Not when her own life was on the line, not ever.

  Tanya. Olya. Misko.

  After the guards called lights out and the final prisoner count of the evening was finished, Ysbel waited until the guards’ footsteps had faded down the hallway. Then she tapped her com.

  “Tanya,” she whispered. “You have all the weapons ready?”

  “Yes.”

  She had to know about the weapons. But she would have called anyways, just to hear that voice.

  She choked back her tears. “Are—the children alright?”

  “Yes. They children are fine.” Tanya paused. “They can’t wait to see you. Olya has been talking of nothing else since two days ago.” She paused again, and Ysbel could hear the emotion in her tone. “I—can’t wait to see you either.”

  “It’s been a long time,” said Ysbel.

  “Tomorrow, my love.”

  “Tomorrow.”

  She tapped off her com.

  They’d done the impossible. In one week, they’d managed to make enough weapons to arm the prison, they’d planned and prepared for the largest prison break in the system’s history.

  Only a few more hours, and then it wouldn’t matter what the guards found out.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  JEZ, SECTOR 2, Day 12

  “Get up! Now!”

  Jez jerked awake and dropped off her cot into a half-crouch before her brain had time to figure out what in the hell was happening.

  All the lights in the cell block had switched on, and she blinked against the brightness. Had she overslept? Damn, she couldn’t have overslept, today was the day they were getting out. She couldn’t have—

  “Arms on the wall!” A guard slammed a shock-stick against the bars of her cell door. “Now!”

  So much for whatever the hell Masha had done to her record.

  She glared at him, trying to slow her racing heart. “What the—”

  “Get your hands on the wall or I’ll shoot you right now,” the guard growled.

  For a moment, she was tempted to take her chances. But—they were too close. She couldn’t risk their whole plan.

  Even if it meant they’d take her.

  She took a deep breath, and bit back the surge of panic. It would be fine. If something happened, Lev and Tae and Ysbel and the others would get her out. She wouldn’t be locked in here forever.

  She swallowed hard, then, fighting every single instinct in her body, she turned around and placed her hands on the wall.

  The lock clicked and her cell door swung open.

  “You’re no plant, are you?” the guard said softly. “You had us going for a bit there. But looks like your luck ran out.”

  Something had gone wrong. Very badly wrong.

  “Hey, bastard,” she said with a grin. “Get bored and come looking for me? Hate to disappoint, but you’re not really my type.”

  The guard who stepped through didn’t bother to respond, just grabbed her arms.

  She almost turned around and hit him. She almost tried to wrestle the gun away from him and turn it on the two guards who stood at the door, covering them. Even though it was almost certain to fail.

  It was worth a try, though, right?

  Or, it would have been, if it wouldn’t have ruined their entire escape plan.

  She let him wrench her hands down behind her back, wincing at the pressure on her bruised arm, and then secure them with cuffs.

  “Alright, prisoner. Move.” He grabbed her by the shoulder and turned her around, shoving her towards the cell door.

  A sick feeling in her stomach told her there may not be a plan anymore.

  The guards shoved her down the corridor, towards the mess hall. There was no one else out in the corridor, and the air was cooler than it ever was during the day. Must be close to the middle of the night.

  “Hey. You may as well tell me what’s going on,” she said, trying to keep her voice reasonable. “Not like I’m not going to figure it out at some point.” She paused. “Wait. Let me guess. You’ve letting me go for good behaviour.”

  “Shut up,” the guard behind her snapped. She managed a grin.

  At least she wasn’t losing her touch.

  They reached the mess hall. The door was open, and a handful of guards with drawn weapons stood on either side.

  Jez scanned the room quickly as she stepped through the door, then drew in a sharp breath.

  In the centre of the room stood Tanya, and beside her, the two children. Their faces were confused and terrified, and they were huddled close to their mother.

  And on the floor, in front of her, sat a large pile of black cylinders Jez recognized instantly.

  Her stomach tightened with dread.

  They’d found the guns.

  The guards jerked on her cuffed arms, and she stumbled to a halt.

  Beside her, Lev was kneeling on the hard floor, hands locked behind his back, gun pressed to the back of his neck. His expression was grim, and a large bruise was rising across the side of his face. She felt an entirely unexpected surge of anger.

  How dare they? He was a soft boy, not a fighter. She’d plaguing well—

  Lev caught her eye and shook his head firmly.

  She glared at him.

  Then she caught a glimpse of Ysbel. She was struggling ineff
ectually against her cuffs, and it took three guards to hold her back. A magnetic gag had been clipped across her mouth, but even from under it Jez could hear her muffled cursing.

  There were tears running down her cheeks, and Jez swallowed and looked away quickly, feeling sick to her stomach.

  Across from her, Tae and Masha stood, cuffed and guarded. Masha’s face was almost expressionless, but there was something hard and hopeless in her gaze. Tae had dropped his head to his chest, as if he, too, couldn’t bear to watch what was about to happen.

  The warden strode into the room a moment later, and came to a stop before Tanya.

  “So,” she said. “It appears we’ve tracked down our thieves.”

  “I’m not sure what you’re talking—”Masha began, but the guard standing next to her backhanded her across the mouth.

  “You’ll talk when I say you’ll talk, and not before,” he snapped.

  “Really?” Jez said. She couldn’t help herself. “Because from what I see—”

  The guard beside her didn’t even bother to hit her, just pulled out a gag and slapped it across Jez’s face.

  It was a bit insulting, actually.

  Lev looked almost relieved, which was even more insulting.

  As if she couldn’t make good decisions about whether or not to talk without someone actually gagging her. He just didn’t appreciate—

  She glanced back at Ysbel, and broke off the thought.

  “The weapons were found in this woman’s cell,” the warden continued, gesturing to Tanya, as if there had been no interruption. “It took us a while to track it down. But, we were fortunate.” She smiled, but it was the thin smile of a predator. “Someone tipped us off. And sure enough, when we went to prisoner 4572’s cell, we found exactly what we were told we’d find. And,” the guard leaned forward slightly, clearly enjoying the moment. “We also found something interesting in our system. The five prisoners our informant pointed to, who had all experienced the same system-glitch two weeks ago. For, it appears, the same reason. Because none of you were supposed to be here.”

  She shook her head slightly. “It was a clever patch. But we would have found it eventually.”

  Jez tried to point out that the five of them would have been long gone, along with the entire population of the prison, by five hours from now, so their finding it eventually would have been a bit redundant. With the gag stuck firmly across her face, thought, she couldn’t do more than grunt. Which, as a method of insulting communication went, was somewhat lacking.

  “So.” The warden put a hand on her hip. “What do you have to say for yourselves?”

  “I—” Masha began, but Tanya raised her head.

  “It was me,” she said quietly.

  Jez’s stomach twisted in sudden horror. Ysbel’s eyes widened, and the woman struggled more frantically against the guards holding her.

  “I managed to send out a signal and called them here. They were old co-workers of mine. They came because I asked them to, and I offered them plenty of credits.”

  One of the guards holding Ysbel brought his shock stick down hard across her back, and she fell forwards, unable to use her hands to break her fall. Tanya closed her eyes briefly, then she looked away from Ysbel and fixed her eyes on the guard. “You can take them if you’d like,” she said with a shrug. “I don’t care. But don’t think they’ll be able to tell you what you want to know. The plan was mine.”

  For a moment, there was silence. Then Lev managed to lift his head high enough to catch the guard’s eyes. “She’s lying,” he said through his teeth. “I thought of this plan.”

  Tanya narrowed her eyes at him. “You are not getting paid. You may as well stop.”

  “It’s true,” said Tae, his voice low. “It was us. I hacked the patches into the system to get us in, Lev made the plan.”

  Ysbel had stopped struggling for a moment, and even through the gag obscuring her face, Jez could see the desperate relief in her expression.

  “Let prisoner 9877 go,” said Lev, his voice level. “We used her because there was more room in her cell to store the weapons, and she moves around more freely because of the children. She probably thinks she’s going to get some sort of leverage from claiming the idea for herself, but she had nothing to do with this.”

  The warden was looking from them to Tanya, a slight frown on her face.

  “Tell me, then, why would you break into a prison?” she asked, her voice heavy with skepticism.

  “Because I bankrolled them,” said Masha, her pleasant voice sounding eminently reasonable. “For reasons too long to go into, I have a personal grudge against the administrator of this prison on Prasvishoni. I thought it would embarrass him if I could stage a prison break here. Even if I wasn’t successful, it would be a stain on his reputation.”

  Jez turned to stare at her.

  Masha? She knew the woman would risk her life for them, probably because she needed them. For something. Jez wasn’t certain what, and, to be honest, didn’t really care. But for Tanya?

  “If that’s the case,” said the woman, eyes narrowed, “tell me the name of the administrator.”

  “Lubos Devic. He has an ex-husband and three children, who live with his ex but visit him on the weekends. He speaks a little too loudly, and has a habit of tapping his fingers against the table when he’s agitated.”

  “And his favourite drink is a red nova, with ice,” broke in Tanya. “Please. Enough showing off. You will not get paid, even if you parrot back to me everything I told you to get you to do this job.”

  “That’s enough,” said the warden. “No one is getting any sort of credit for this. I do not reward criminals.” She turned to Tanya. “If you were the one who planned this, then tell me—how did you get these weapons?”

  “I made them,” said Tanya. “I can tell you the exact design.” She avoided Ysbel’s eyes. “Pick up a weapon, please. I will explain it to you.”

  Jez closed her eyes for a moment, swallowing hard against the sickness creeping up her throat as Tanya spoke. The woman sounded so convincing that Jez half-way believed her herself.

  “Very well,” said the warden at last. “You know too much to be nothing but a fence, like these others claim. So, I’ll believe you.”

  Ysbel threw herself forward again, and the guard shoved the shock-stick into her ribs. Jez winced in sympathy. Ysbel’s body jerked on the floor until finally the guard pulled the stick away with a disgusted look on his face. Olya whimpered and buried her face in her mother’s legs, and Misko started crying.

  Jez glanced guiltily at Tanya. The woman stood with her head up, eyes straight ahead, but a tear ran down one cheek. Tanya brushed it away hurriedly.

  “So,” said the guard. “I will lock these five up and decide how to deal with them later. You, however, if you have the capacity to plan and execute something like this, are too dangerous to leave in the prison population.”

  “I do not want to go to the Vault,” said Tanya in a low voice, “but I will go.”

  “No.” The warden shook her head. “You won’t. I’m afraid you’re too much of a risk. I have someone starting up the machine now, and it should be ready in a few hours. I’m sedating you. The children as well,” she added, almost as an afterthought.

  Tanya’s eyes grew wide. “No! The children did nothing.”

  The warden shrugged, her face cold. “I’m sorry. But they’re not old enough to be in here on their own, and I can’t have them running around unsupervised. Really, this is better for them as well.”

  “No! I will find someone. There are plenty of people here who would—”

  The warden cut her off with a brusque gesture. “I’ve made my decision.”

  “No! Please! I’ll—”

  The warden gestured, and a guard stepped forward with a gag. He snapped it across Tanya’s mouth, and her protests were suddenly muffled.

  Misko was wailing, and Olya began to cry as well, awful, helpless cries that suddenly made Jez reme
mber what it was like to be eight years old and afraid.

  Her stomach twisted.

  She jerked sideways, twisting her arms out of the guards’ grip, but before she could do anything more, something hit her across the side of the head and she staggered, momentarily stunned.

  Lev, too, was struggling, and Tae was fighting the guards holding him. Even Masha momentarily managed to pull herself out of the guards’ grip before they grabbed her again. Ysbel, on the ground, was sobbing, her shouts through the gag sounding like the cries of a wounded animal.

  But it was too late. The guards led the struggling Tanya out the door, and shoved the frantically-crying children behind her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  JEZ, SECTOR 1, Day 12

  When they shoved Jez back into her prison cell, she hardly had the energy to fight. They unclipped her handcuffs, and for half a second she thought that maybe, the moment they left, she’d use Tae’s key to open the cell door, she’d find some way of getting to where Tanya was, she’d—

  The guard swung the cell door shut, and the lock clicked into place.

  “Don’t bother,” he called through the bars. “The warden changed all the locks. You won’t be getting out of here before we have a chance to decide what to do with you.”

  She tested it, of course. The moment they were out of sight, she strode to the door and pressed the button on her com.

  Nothing happened.

  She spun around and kicked at the edge of the cot as hard as she could, swearing. There was a cold that had started in the pit of her stomach and was spreading slowly outward, until she felt like she was sitting in a ship where the temp control had gone, and every part of her had gone numb.

  The only thing she could see when she closed her eyes was Ysbel’s face, Tanya’s face, the only thing she could hear was Olya’s terrified whimpers.

  It wasn’t fair. They’d come here to save them, and they’d made it worse.

  Sedation.

  She kicked the cot again, and swore louder, but her voice sounded weak and choked.

  The stupid thing was, she hadn’t even cared at first, at least, not much. She’d been so damn stir-crazy that all she’d wanted was to get out again. But then she’d met them. She’d seen Ysbel’s face, when she’d seen Tanya again for the first time in years. She’d seen those damn little kids, their solemn faces and their mischievous eyes.