Incarceration

Chapter Twenty-Eight

On the day of the escape, we get up with the prison lights and prepare ourselves. Wyatt begins to list all the possibilities that would lead to failure. He stammers on about the lack of faith we should have in the code, pointing out that there was a mistake the first time, so why not this time?

"If it doesn't work," I say, "it won't matter because our punishments can't get any worse."

He stays quiet as I hand him his sphere and slip my own into my pocket. I can tell he's nervous and I'm sure he can tell I am because, before the cell door bursts open, we hug each other for a long time. Nervous tears well up in my eyes but I fight them back and try to steady my shaking body as my hands are cuffed together. I can hear Wyatt stumbling over his own feet behind me as he's shoved down the hallway.

Our blindfolds are untied and we stand in the dark room. The glass box on the side of the wall lights up, casting a rectangle of light onto the floor. A man and a woman appear through the glass behind the two monitors.

Wyatt and I exchange apprehensive glances before the sea of glitter begins to flutter down. The pixels seem brighter this time. The small squares of light illuminate our faces.

When the bright lights disappear, Wyatt and I are still standing in the middle of the game room. The player box stands illuminated on the wall, but the players have disappeared.

Wyatt and I turn to look at each other. I wiggle my fingers at will and tighten them into balled fists.

"Did it work?" he whispers.

In the game, a siren begins to blare loudly and words flash brightly in the air in front of us. Players, do not touch your controllers.

Half of me feels relief while the other half feels panic. The first step worked!

"Come on." I grab Wyatt's wrist and pull him toward the door. As we step out, I find myself in a hauntingly familiar room. The white room from my dream!

"They should be in one of these rooms," I say to Wyatt, my heart beating faster.

"Maxwell!" Amara appears in a doorway farther down. She is flanked by Iker and Royce, both with panicked looks.

"Get us out of here," Royce shouts.

I try to remember the way out but I've never seen this room in real life. I turn and run toward the only exit that leads out into a series of hallways. Wyatt, Iker, Amara, and Royce all run at my heels and we finally come to a part of the prison I know. It's the construction site I'd crashed into when I fell from the vent. Looking up, I can see the hole my body toppled through. It's still not fixed. I come to a stop.

"Are we almost out?" Amara's voice comes worriedly from behind me.

"I think," I say, between gasps. Then suddenly, we are all standing in a mass of black empty space and then in a blink of an eye, back in the prison again.

"What just happened?" Wyatt asks.

"They're trying to shut off the game," Royce says. "I thought this might happen. They know something's up."

"Well, what happens if they do?" I ask.

"We don't know." Iker's panicked voice comes from beside me. "I set up some stuff that should delay it, but let's not wait around to find out!"

"Okay," I say. We begin to run again.

"Maxwell, do you know where we're going?"

The flashes of black are becoming more frequent now and the siren wails pick up pace. I have a vague idea of where we are but have no memory of where an exit would be.

"No," I admit before I am hit with a realization, "wait—yes." Glancing up at the ceiling, I can imagine that pattern of vents concealed behind the smooth paint. Suddenly a path is presented to me in my head and I know exactly where to go.

"Come on!" I scream as the game descends into a black haze. This time the lull before the prison reappears is longer.

Iker's hysterical voice comes from behind, somewhere in the darkness. "They're going to shut us down soon!"

We turn a corner and I can see the rear exit—a small door at the end of the hallway. The blackouts come every few seconds now. It's like a strobe light flashing on and off, on and off . . .

I pull open the exit door, my hands sweating and sliding off the handle. The prison disappears into darkness and the handle vanishes from between my finger. I grope desperately at the empty space. My heart stops as we stand silently in the darkness. The lull seems to last forever, then suddenly the prison appears.

I grab the handle and throw open the door. A burst of cool air hits my face and I stumble gratefully out into the cold night. Wyatt and Iker are right behind me, both wheezing and staring back at the door, where Amara and Royce exit just feet away. Blackness surrounds them again. Iker races toward the doorway, shouting for them to run.

I stand a few inches behind him, paralyzed by fear and apprehension. Please make it. C'mon, guys!

Royce bursts out, gasping.

"Jump!" Iker is screaming through the door, tears beginning to stream down his face. The image of the prison and woods that surrounds us are breaking into pixels. I watch as Amara's feet leave the ground and as Royce rushes forward in a drastic fit of adrenaline only to be caught by Iker and held away. The image of Amara, frozen in midair, eyes wide and full of fear, is broken into small delicate squares that glow tauntingly bright as they disintegrate into thin air.

Nooooo!

The four of us are left engulfed in the night under the glittering stars. We find ourselves by the bank of a lake, trees growing up into a thick wood behind us. Iker and Royce collapse on the sand together, burying their heads in their hands.

I begin to shake. It starts with an aching pain in my stomach and it travels up my chest until my jaw begins to quiver and then my hands.

I close my eyes, lost in pain, and indignation. I can't believe it. What happens now?

"Maxwell," Wyatt says softly in my ear.

I want him to keep talking to me. To tell me that everything will be okay, for his voice to solve things. I keep my eyes closed.

"Harriet!" Grayson rushes me from behind, hugging me. "It worked! You made it!"

"Hi," I say weakly. Tears still running down my face.

"What happened?"

"Amara didn't make it." I continue to shake. We all sit in silence. None of us knowing what to say. I'm sorry, Amara. I love you. I miss you. I'm sorry.

Tears are still streaking down my face when Iker starts to help Royce up. They wipe their eyes, trembling from cold and trauma.

"Harriet," Grayson is the first to speak. "I found us a place where we can stay. C'mon," he says lightly to the group. "We have to get moving before sunrise. Let's go."