by Aella Black
I turned to face him and hoped no one had super hearing. “I agree. When I saw you here, I kind of hoped your parents were those someones.”
His mouth tightened. I instantly regretted bringing up what was obviously a sore subject. “There has to be someone else,” he said. “I can guarantee you people out there have no idea what’s going on here. If they did, there would be major backlash. They’d be forced to shut the prison down. Maybe the other one, too.”
I glanced around to see if anyone was within listening range. I spotted Oscar standing near the cafeteria exit. His attention was elsewhere, but I still felt uneasy. It seemed risky talking about this out in the open.
Xander must have clued in, because he tipped his head closer to mine. I hoped he couldn’t hear my pounding heart.
“I’ve been thinking about this,” I whispered. “Going to someone in the press might be the way to go.” He nodded in agreement. “But we have to get out of here first.”
“Any ideas?”
“I’ve been working on a plan. It’ll be risky, though.” He needed to know about Hot Rod, but it wasn’t the time or the place to discuss this. “We shouldn’t talk about it so openly.”
He nodded again. “Agreed. What if we use code words?”
I laughed, wincing at how much it hurt my throat. But Xander was serious. “Um, sure, I guess.”
“Okay, escape plan should be… shower time,” he said.
I raised my brows. “Shower time?”
“Sorry, I desperately need one and it’s on my mind.”
I felt my face get hot—yet again. “Uh, let’s do something else.”
I tried to think of something simple. Inconspicuous. I thought about Tex’s favorite game. “Chess,” I suggested. “What about chess tournament?”
Xander tilted his head. “You’re relegating me to the chess club?”
I bit back a laugh. “Tex likes to play, and the guards and other inmates know we sometimes have tournaments in our group. Which Tex usually wins, by the way,” I informed him. “It’ll just sound like we’re talking about the game.”
He nodded. “Okay, I can roll with that.”
I smirked. “We might need to teach you the game so you sound like you know what you’re talking about.”
Xander scoffed. “Who says I don’t know already know how to play?”
He knocked his shoulder against mine, a smile stretching his lips. Butterflies suddenly took flight, fluttering in every direction. Even as we were planning our escape, I began to think life in prison wasn’t so bad.
Then Wolf walked into the cafeteria. The butterflies froze and fell to their fluttery demise.
Xander stiffened next to me, and a tangible hush settled over the room. As Wolf sauntered by, his eyes raked me up and down. “And the Phoenix rises again.”
I grabbed Xander’s arm just as he began to lunge. Wolf’s eyebrows shot up, and he continued on his way.
Great, that was practically a declaration of war in his eyes.
“Xander, please,” I whispered. “If we’re going to do this, we’ve got to keep a low profile. Playing his game is the exact opposite of that.”
“He killed you, Phoebe.” His voice sounded pained, and I found myself wanting to comfort him. Which, of course, was crazy, considering I was the one who’d been murdered.
“Yeah, well, he’s not the first, and I doubt he’ll be the last,” I muttered, thinking of the evil doctor and her inhumane “exams.”
Xander fixed me with a stare. “What do you mean by that?” he demanded.
Oh crap, he didn’t know about testing. I hated to be the one to tell him about it, but he was going to find out soon anyway.
I sighed. “The SCC—”
“Everybody out!” a guard yelled. I recognized him as Yancy, the one who’d stood by and watched me die earlier. “Dinner is over. To your cells. Now!”
I glanced around and saw kids all across the room getting up from their tables. They’d be dumping their trays, and we were still standing in the corner near the trash cans.
Maybe it was for the best. Talking about the tests brought back feelings of fear and helplessness, and I’d had more than enough of that today.
“We’d better go.” Birdie and Cathy approached, anticipation on their faces as clear as day. They wanted to gossip, and I was in no mood tonight. “Woody will tell you about it,” I said, moving to leave.
I was almost out of earshot when I heard Xander’s response. “I won’t hold my breath.”
21
Xander either slept poorly, or Woody told him about the tests. Probably both.
I’d just begun to stretch when he appeared at the track, thunderclouds accompanying him. And not of the weather-related variety.
“This is wrong,” he whispered fiercely. It was. On so many levels. “I mean, it’s literally a matter of life and death we get out of here.”
I nodded. “That’s why planning this chess tournament is so important.”
Xander paused for a second, as if remembering the need for code words. His eyes scanned the yard. I’d picked a spot to stretch separate from everyone, so we were safe to speak freely for the moment. He must have come to the same conclusion.
“Yeah, but what about in the meantime?” he asked. “They can’t keep doing this to you.”
Me? What about everyone else? I only knew of the tests of a handful of inmates. There were hundreds here. I shivered at the potential horrors the rest were forced to endure.
Xander looked at me, concerned. “You’re cold. And I can’t even give you my jacket, because I don’t have one!”
His concern was so sweet, I hated to correct him. I also wasn’t sure how much Woody told him and didn’t want to fire him up further. “You may want to stretch. We’ll start running soon. And we’ve got a tournament to plan.” I looked pointedly at several teens who headed our way.
Xander began to roll his broad shoulders, and I watched as he stretched his arms above his head. “It’s a good thing I’m a competitive player,” he said. “And this is not a tournament I plan to lose.”
Good, we needed that level of determination if we had any hope of success. “I like your enthusiasm, Chief,” I said, punching him lightly on the arm.
That seemed to push the clouds back a little. “Oh, I can’t wait to play.” He winked as he bent forward to continued stretching.
It was a good thing, too. There was no excuse for why my face had turned red. I hadn’t even started running yet.
Ten minutes later, I panted while completing another lap around the track. Xander hadn’t broken a sweat. “I never got to tell you,” he started, not even the least bit breathless. “I’m glad you’re alive.”
I snorted. “Yeah. Me too. Getting choked to death isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
I thought he might laugh—or a barely-held-back smile, at the very least—but when I looked over at him, his face was deathly serious. “I mean, after the fire. Everyone was torn up about the news.”
Yeah, right.
As if he knew I didn’t believe him, he added, “We even dedicated a game to you.”
My heart skipped a beat. That was really sweet. And surprising. I wondered if the coach suggested it, or—
“It was the final game of the season, actually.”
That little detail sliced through my swooning. “Was that the game…”
“That I hulked out? Yup, sure was,” he said, a chagrined look on his face.
I’d been meaning to ask him about that. No time like the present. “So, have you always known you were different?”
I hated the way my breath hitched as I panted. Running definitely wasn’t one of my strengths. Xander didn’t seem to mind though.
He looked down bashfully, his hair flopping adorably in his face. “No, because there wasn’t anything different until middle school. When I realized something was off, I thought it was cool I could lift twice as much as my friends in the gym. And to a stupid kid trying to pr
ove himself in the weight room and on the football field, I didn’t think of it as a bad thing. Well, until…” He paused. “Do you remember when Ty Montgomery broke his arm in eighth grade?”
I did, actually. It was his right arm, and I’d been one of the volunteer note-takers—or really, note-givers—in class. I nodded.
“Well, I accidentally broke it giving him a high-five.” Xander cringed. “That’s when I knew having super strength wasn’t as cool as I thought.”
“Did your parents know?”
He shook his head, his face grim. “I didn’t tell them. In fact, I even tried to quit football to keep from accidentally exposing what I could do. Obviously, that didn’t work out so well for me.” His expression turned sour. “Looking back, I wonder what would have happened if I had told them. Whether they’d have helped me, or if I’d have just ended up here sooner.”
I felt for him, I really did. I couldn’t imagine middle school, with all the changes happening, to add that to the mix. I had no idea when I developed my power. I could have had it since birth, and if that were the case, it was weird to think I hadn’t needed all of those cancer treatments after all.
I also wondered how my parents would have reacted if they’d been around to learn the truth. As if once again reading my thoughts, Xander cleared his throat and said, “I, uh, tried to reach out to your parents. You know, to express my condolences. But no one knew where they were.”
There was a question in his voice, and the stitch in my side seemed to expand. It felt sharper, more painful. Too painful.
I didn’t respond as we continued our final lap and slowed. I started walking off the track when Xander gripped my arm and pulled me back. “Phoebe. Are your parents okay? Do they know you’re here?”
I took a deep breath. “Well, you know my mom left a while back.”
“Yeah, I heard,” he said, his eyes not quite meeting mine. “But you haven’t talked to her since then?”
I hated this conversation more with every minute. Pity shone in Xander’s eyes, and I really hated that. I crossed my arms over my chest, suddenly feeling both vulnerable and defensive. “She’d have to call for that to happen,” I told him.
“And your dad?” he asked. “Where’s he at?”
I shrugged. “He took off earlier this year. I don’t know where he went.”
Xander didn’t attempt to hide the shock on his face. “Did you call the police?” I shook my head. “Did you move in with family?”
“No. The few relatives I have lived on the East Coast, and they’re scattered to the wind now.”
“Friends?” I shook my head again. “Foster care?” He grimaced.
I understood why. With the hordes of displaced people everywhere, there were exponentially more kids in the system—a system that barely operated before a new catastrophe occurred every day. Children of all ages were crammed into group homes where there was little—if any—adult supervision. Those “lucky” few who went to live with families were often used and abused in ways that made Leavenworth seem like a safe haven. It was why I did everything I could to avoid it.
“You’ve been living on your own for that long?” Xander asked, incredulous.
I gritted my teeth and looked away. A short distance from us, I spotted my friends—our friends now, I supposed— huddled in a group. It appeared they were giving us time to catch up. I was grateful, if only so they wouldn’t overhear this conversation. “No, I wanted to stay home.” Shifting my gaze to my feet, I admitted, “And I thought my dad would be back.”
Silence, and then Xander’s fingers gently tucked beneath my chin and lifted it. “I’m sorry that happened to you.” His sincerity was genuine, but so was his pity.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
Turning away, I walked quickly off from the track toward the exit. Void of conversation and with the past fresh in my mind, I questioned my decisions.
Maybe I had been stupid for not calling the police when Dad went missing. Should I have taken my chances in the system? Was it fear that held me back? Or, was being abandoned by yet another parent too much for me to handle? Which, obviously, I didn’t. What I did was shift into full auto-pilot mode, not thriving but merely surviving. It wasn’t any way to live.
I’d learned once about a specific region near the equator called “the Doldrums.” The word actually meant ‘dull’ or ‘lifeless,’ and the air mass in the area created a dead zone—literally. Ships became trapped there, sometimes permanently. Punishing storms caused many more to wreck. Sailors considered it even more dangerous than the Bermuda Triangle.
Just like those ships, I’d been stuck. And I’d hated every minute of it. Being sent to prison wasn’t ideal by any stretch of the imagination, but at least I’d made friends here and had a purpose. I was moving forward. But now with Xander here, I needed to make sure I didn’t get pulled into the past.
During morning rec time, Cathy and Birdie wanted to go to the library to see Oscar. I figured we might as well introduce Xander, but I wasn’t stepping a foot inside. The memory of Wolf strangling me between the stacks was still too fresh.
The girls practically mobbed Oscar. “Meet the newbie,” Cathy gushed to Oscar. “This is Xander, but he’s going by Chief now. Chief, this is Oscar.”
Xander offered his hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said with his usual politeness. A casual observer would never know he was meeting someone responsible for keeping him locked up.
That became painfully obvious when Oscar narrowed his eyes and ignored Xander’s outstretched hand. “Ladies, I have a job to do. If you’re not here to read, I suggest you leave.”
His words were like a slap to the face. Cathy’s face fell, crushed.
It was uncharacteristic of him. I frowned, trying to catch his eye. He avoided looking at us, his mouth pressed in a thin, hard line.
He’d gotten into trouble. Or was shamed for talking to us. Likely both.
“Sorry, Oscar,” I said quietly. “We’ll leave.”
He suddenly moved, whipping out his taser gun and aiming it directly at Cathy’s chest. “Get out of my head!”
Cathy’s eyes widened.
Birdie gasped loudly. Xander stiffened beside me.
For a few tense seconds, Oscar and Cathy stared each other down. Finally, he lowered the weapon. “Leave, please.” He sounded tired.
Together, we filed out. Cathy’s bottom lip quivered.
“Why did you go into his head?” I asked her as we made our way to a table.
“I… I wanted to ask why he wasn’t allowed to talk to us anymore. He didn’t care when I sent him messages before.” Tears leaked from her eyes and slid down her cheeks. I gave her a quick hug.
“Remember what I was saying at dinner yesterday?” I asked. “We have to remember that the guards are not our friends. Oscar must have been punished for even attempting to act like one.”
She nodded, silent.
Xander cleared his throat. “Phoebe, can I talk to you really quick?”
I nodded, and we left Birdie and Cathy at the table. Hopefully Birdie could console the girl who’d been destined for heartbreak since the day she met Oscar.
Xander led me out to the rec yard, where the sun had peeked out of the clouds. Wind blew my hair back and I tilted my face up, soaking in the warm rays.
He led me to a small picnic table away from a group of teenagers playing badminton. Here, no one could listen in on us. We sat across from each other, and Xander leaned forward so his face was close to mine. The butterflies in my stomach were back, and they launched into a dizzying fit.
“Okay, so what’s the plan?”
Right. Plans. Escape. Avoid death.
The butterflies settled back down where they belonged.
“Still early stages, I’m afraid. Did Woody tell you about Hot Rod?” Xander nodded in response. “Then you know why we have to take our time and be careful. Before, we didn’t know about Lansing, so I guess there’s a possibility they took him
there. But he wasn’t dangerous.” I paused, picturing the freckled face ginger. “He was just a little kid. If he did go there, he’s probably in danger anyway.”
“This is all so unreal.” Xander shook his head.
“It is. But unfortunately, it’s our reality,” I said. “Doesn’t mean it should be though. We’ll need everyone to work together. Play to their strengths.” I nodded to him. “Literally.”
He ran a hand through his curly hair, and then his voice dropped as low as it could go. “You mean, fight our way out?”
“We may have to.” I shrugged. “But I don’t want that to be Plan A. The way I see it, we create a distraction or disable the guards first. Make it harder for them to stop us. Then, we bust out of here… somehow. Problem is, I have no idea where the exits are or if there are any vehicles we could take.”
Xander’s eyes lit. “I do. There’s a large indoor garage where they keep their vans and trucks. If we could get the keys to one of those vans—or I guess we’d need a few, really—and then figure out how to open the door, we’d be out.”
It sounded so easy, but there were too many unknown factors to count. I didn’t know how many of the others would be willing to go along with it, or how to communicate the plans to them without being discovered. We needed some way to relay messages without detection—
The answer almost slapped me in the face.
“Cathy.”
Confusion crossed Xander’s face. “Huh?”
“We’ll need to be able to talk to whoever’s on board without the guards suspecting anything. Cathy’s power is perfect for that. If she’ll do it, she can relay messages to the others.”
Xander’s eyes widened. “Genius.”
My insides went warm. “We’ll need to compile a list of inmates and their abilities,” I said, “who we think would help, and how they can contribute. If we coordinate well enough, we might be able to pull this off.” I shook my head, awed that the plans that have existed in my head were finally taking shape. “Before now, I wasn’t sure this was possible.”
