CHAPTER 16 

I exited the bathroom stall and sprinted out the door, down the hall to my left, like a stray bullet. When I reached the entrance to the staircase, I paused and waited for the detector to switch angles, as it does every 10 seconds. Once I was out of its reach, I made a jump to my left, straight down to the other staircase. I landed as lightly as I could on my feet and then slid down the handlebar, just as I had practiced. I repeated this pattern for the next two levels, being careful not to step one foot out of place to avoid setting off the alarm. 

My heart felt like it would explode as my usually calm self in the face of danger was now confronted with an unusual fear. I wasn't sure what scared me the most: death, spending my life in prison, or never seeing my old man again. Although my mind was filled with fear, I could feel my body's reluctance to give up and give in. 

I tried to suppress the hammering in my chest, but there was no way that would happen now. I didn't regret coming here, getting him involved, and plotting our escape... Maybe we could get out of this alive. Maybe, just maybe, we could actually escape. 

But where does that leave us? 

Alex... 

I felt the grim reaper looming over me. Where did I pull my fearlessness from before? Am I no longer brave? As I dashed down the unlit hallway, frantically counting the numbers on the doors from 50, I was terrified. 

But I kept counting. So, is this true bravery? 

Have I been a coward my whole life? 

I'm here! 

< 67 > 

My stomach churned as the demon butterflies inside made me almost vomit from excitement. I immediately began punching in incorrect 6-digit codes to intentionally have a third failed attempt. After three failed attempts, the system would acknowledge the threat of an attempted break-in and trigger an alarm, awakening the dormant backup security system and the mother AI. However, the system was built with a failsafe for instances where a guard had made one too many mistakes; they could immediately punch in a 6-digit default code that would relay as an authority's distress signal. 

Access Denied, the screen flickered red. Access Denied. 

And the moment of truth came tumbling down like a ton of bricks. I felt the blood rushing through the veins in my head as I punched in the default code digit by digit. The tips of my fingers were as sweaty as the armpits of a 30-year-old obese man working on the treadmills. Within 5 seconds, the door would either fly open or the backup security system would go off, and in a matter of minutes, I’d be surrounded. 

3... 

2... 

1... 

I released the air caught up in my lungs as the door flew open. I walked right in and shut it behind me. I started sorting through the items, checking for number 8356Z. 

There were no words to describe this moment. All I can say is that I was glad it would finally be over. It was only three days ago that Alex and I were being held in special confinement under suspicion for our involvement in the deaths of Eason and Clinton Wells. The next morning, we were released as no evidence was found. Some final destination shit... 

Anyway, that morning, after being brought back to our cell, the guards remained in close distance as we took a shower and made our way to the lunchroom. They even added extra security there, stating that it was for our own protection. But I had a feeling that we weren't the ones they were protecting. 

"Well, this sucks..." Alex snickered. 

"Tell me about it," I cheekily remarked. 

I took a spoonful of my oatmeal and observed the glances and daggering stares being thrown at me. Alex chuckled. 

"What's so funny?" I asked. 

"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking how selfish you are." 

"What?" I puzzled. 

"You've now taken both titles as the most feared and the most hated person in the prison. I mean, come on, give someone else a chance," he teased. 

"Oh, you think that's funny?" Actually, it kind of was. "How about next time, I leave your ass to be toasted, and we'll see what kind of nicknames they'll come up with for you then, huh?" 

"Jeez, calm down, old man." 

Old what? 

I stopped the spoon's entry to my mouth and stared at him with cow eyes. "How is being 25 old?" 

His eyes rolled skyward as he turned his head to me and asked, "You call me kid all the time. How is being 18 making me a kid?" 

I laughed knowingly. "Ha! You're technically not eighteen yet!" 

His spoon fell midway from his mouth, jingling against the surface of the table, scattering the portion of porridge he intended to fill his mouth with. 

"How did you know that?" 

PRESENT 

There it is! 

I found the shipment and dragged it out from the corners, into the open. Sadly, my celebration was short-lived as before long, I heard numbers being punched into the lock on the other side of the door. 

My eyes darted, paused, and scanned before I scurried across the room and hid behind a cluster of shelves and packages. With no weapon to reach for, I crouched down and peered through some boxes. 

I stared breathlessly as the door flew open...