She pushed her food around with her plastic fork, giving a slight nod. “For all our sakes, I hope you’re right. I hope you can do this. I hope you can give us the freedom we all deserve.”
“I will, Bethany… I fucking will.”
After dinner was brought, I waited.
I didn’t go to sleep, even though I would be exhausted the next morning.
I clicked the pen Magnus gave me, my thumb pressing into the pad at the top and making the tip emerge. Then I hit it again. Again. The click filled my dark cabin, my eyes on the ceiling, my heart racing because of my late-night plans.
I didn’t have a clock, so I had no idea what time it was. I didn’t even have a window, so I had no way of gauging life outside my door. All I had was my hearing, but my skills could only span to the front door and the patio right outside my cabin.
I was too anxious to continue waiting, so I got out of bed and pulled on my boots. My jacket was secured. Then I stuffed a towel into the crack of the door so I could turn on the light and dismantle the pen.
Piece by piece, I took it apart, until I got to the slender rod that I could use in the door. I left the remains tucked under my sheets before I pulled out the metal shard I’d picked up when the drugs fell from the sky.
I’d never done anything like this before.
But I’d seen it in movies, and there must be some truth to it.
I stuck the pieces into the small slit in the door and tried to feel around, sticking the shard inside to imitate the placement of a key, and then I used the pen to slowly turn the knob. Every time I tried, I could barely turn the knob an inch before it slipped.
“Ugh…”
I kept going, doing the same thing over and over, not giving up even though this seemed impossible. I didn’t have the right tools like those guys in the movies. I wasn’t some mastermind. I cursed under my breath then stepped back, pissed off that a stupid door would be my undoing.
I turned back to my bed to get under the sheets.
Instead, I stopped and stared at the book on my nightstand.
The Count of Monte Cristo.
He didn’t give up. He planned his escape for years. He got out, returned with revenge, and made everyone pay.
I had to do the same.
I turned back and kept at it.
It took me thirty minutes, my hands got slippery and sweaty, so I had to remove my jacket, but I got it.
I fucking got it.
The doorknob went slack, turning with a twist of my wrist.
I stood back and stared in surprise. “Yes.” I put my jacket back on, turned off the light, and pulled the towel from underneath the door. Now my heart was racing so fast, I could barely hear anything. The pounding blood masked everything around me. I was so terrified I almost didn’t want to leave this cabin.
I was in Plato’s fucking cave.
Far more afraid of potential freedom than sterile captivity.
I took a deep breath, tried my best to control my racing heart, and then cracked the door.
It was dark.
There were some lights around the camp, but very few, and the walkways were mostly hidden in darkness. I stood there and listened, waited for the sound of boots against snow, waited for a guard to pass.
But nothing happened.
If all the prisoners were locked in cabins with no windows, how would they escape? Maybe having a nighttime patrol was pointless, especially when fleeing in the dark wouldn’t get you far.
I needed a flashlight.
I stepped out of the cabin and onto the wooden patio. The door shut quietly behind me, barely making a click when it returned to the doorframe. My eyes scanned left and right, only able to visualize the cabin in my mind because of the gentle lights sparsely spread out. I’d taken the walk to the clearing enough times to remember the way, and since we shoveled all the snow days ago, I shouldn’t trip on anything.
I took the stairs and felt my boots hit the earth.
This was really happening.
I walked slowly, trying to feel the earth in front of me before I took a step, to make sure there wasn’t an obstruction that would make me fall and break my nose, or worse, knock me out so they would find me in the morning.
Even if I wanted to escape that very moment, I couldn’t. I’d walk out into the pitch-dark wilderness and just get lost. I wouldn’t survive more than a few hours. I needed tools to survive, weapons, water, food…light.
I wasn’t enough.
I moved farther into the camp, passing the cabins that I knew were there. There was a slight breeze, a gentle rustling of the branches in the tall pines that stood over me like wild skyscrapers. My warm breath escaped my mouth then came back and sprinkled across my face like I stood in front of a humidifier.
Even if I’d had a flashlight, I wouldn’t use it. It was so dark here that any light would be a beacon. It made me believe there were no guards on duty—because they couldn’t see anything.
I made it to the clearing. I could tell because the most lights were in this area, because boxes of drugs were still on the tables. I made sure to avoid that direction, because they cared more about their products than a girl escaping, so they might have eyes on that section.
I went around a cabin then moved past it, eventually reaching the larger building I’d noticed when we were shoveling snow. I stilled because the windows were lit up from lights inside the structure.
There were guards in there.
And if that was where the guards were…that meant there were supplies.
My heart had slowed down once
