White Pines Sing

V. Guilt

When I started at the Pines they gave me a ring, real nice like an old signet. I was really proud of it. They're making a big fuss about it now that I'm gone and I don't know why and I'm too scared to ask, even though I still wear the ring. I'm all about psychology, did you know that? I watched this movie recently about some college kids who conducted a prison experiment out in California. I found it eerily similar to the program, except at the Pines the whole purpose was to actually break these fuckers and remake them, right? I mean, I can understand it. I was an A student before I started using and flunked out of school, and I'm not saying I would've wanted to be running around in the Pines all day, but maybe something like it would've helped discipline me.

The problem was that ultimately, the program went far beyond that. The place started to bother me. It's like a cult or something. They started getting real heavy-handed about the psychology behind the program. I'd hammer these kids into obedience, doing what I was told, and we didn't allow them to decline for health or religious reasons either. And eventually, when they are in the system, they make them all wear matching clothes and they can't have any kind of jewelry, even if it's religious. They expect these kids to memorize and repeat endless rules at the slightest prompting.

I really didn't mind working with the residents. Trust me, most of the kids there needed some kind of camp–but it's the way they try to enforce it that got to me. They're always watching and micromanaging at levels you don't see at first, and the fact that you had to buy into everything they said started to unnerve me. Pretty soon you'd start to believe that stuff yourself, and I hated that. I was there for a job, you know? I wasn't trying to copy it at home.

***

At five o'clock, Tyler joined Kenna in the entry way of Hall C, and they began hunting for potential escape routes. He knew Hatch didn't fully trust either of them, and the man was probably wise to remain cautious. Their failure to draw parallels between the two escape attempts gnawed at Tyler. Someone from their ranks had aided Brendan and had aided the girl from last night. It was a hard truth, but the fact that he and Kenna had overlooked it stung even more. Even now, he had difficulty fathoming the motivation behind it. Those who dared to plan an escape were swiftly shot-down and punished without mercy. The notion became far worse when you considered that an Upper was assisting in the plan. Tyler considered there may even be residents who knew of the Upper's subversion and failed to act. This form of betrayal was like a deadly poison, because it would slowly erode the program's image of authority, and he knew Hatch himself would send the guilty party down to the bottom of the hierarchy, forever.

He tried not to let the paranoia get to him, but he could feel Kenna slipping into attack mode. Hall C was at dinner for the next hour, but that didn't stop Kenna from pacing the stairs in anticipation. Tyler watched her as she scanned everything, looking for any sign of negligence or mistake. She was acting like a caged animal looking for prey that wasn't coming, and he could see the anger and frustration building up inside her. She clearly wasn't going to stop until they found someone to blame. The hallways were dim and eerily silent, and Tyler could see eight numbered doors down the long corridor, each shut tight. The windows had bars, installed after the Christmas riot one year ago. Everyone, including any Uppers not on the night shift, were locked inside at night. The idea that someone from another Hall could sneak in unseen seemed ridiculous.

"What do you think?" Kenna finally asked. Her voice echoed in the emptiness and Tyler leaned back against the doorframe and shook his head.

"I'm actually impressed. I mean beyond the sheer audacity of it. I mean look at this place Ken–there's no sign of movement, the bars are still in place–Even the trash bags are still in the closet. I mean wouldn't you at least steal some supplies for the girl if you were helping her break away?" If Kenna was ready to put the blame on someone, he had to at least challenge whatever assertions she made. He knew Hatch would.

Kenna frowned. "Only two ways out of here, the main doors and the kitchen door. And we damn sure didn't see her bolt from the main doors."
They walked down the hall, through the kitchen, and Kenna stopped at the back door. "How about that, it doesn't even look forced. It's almost like she just walked out." She narrowed her eyes at him. "An Upper unlocked this shit for her, Tyler, and the other kid too."

He pressed her again. "How? They'd have to get out of the bunks first before they could even let her out."

Kenna walked further inside and threw open the doors to the pantry. Since the kitchen was only used for a backup to the main food hall, there were several deep storage areas that often went unused. She pointed around at them and said, "They hide in the kitchen, they swipe the keys, let the girl out, then lock it all back up."

Tyler walked over to the back door and tried the handle for himself. It was locked, as it should always be, because the kitchen was rarely used and no Uppers were assigned to monitor it on a regular basis. The countertops were bare. The sink was empty. The stove was cold. There were no signs or evidence of any escape attempt. He had told Kenna the truth earlier–it was impressive.