Pyro

Chapter 29

It felt like years before Saturday morning arrived. I looked it, too.

Upon inspection in the polished, reflecting surfaces of the cafeteria tables, dark bags sagged beneath my eyes: My eyes were tired-no, not tired. Exhausted. The emerald green of my eyes had faded and was worn around the edges. And my stubble had given way and itched at my skin. I found my fingers repeatedly drifting towards it, the scruffiness gnawing at me.

I felt unclean. I felt like I was being steeped in dirt and filth and revulsion, and I shivered in repulsion.

The idea of bathing my face in warm sunlight and feeling my skin being tickled by crisp blades of grass had my body trembling almost more than the idea of feeling Proditio's blood gush out of her skin and standing in the hot liquid, feeling it congeal around my toes as I reveled in her fall. Behind my closed eyes, rather than envisioning her haunting cries as she burned alive, I saw her pitch black hair sprawled around her lifeless body, her golden eyes forever glazed over, encased in fear-

I stopped.

The bars clanged as they rumbled open.

In breakfast, I hunched over a table close to the edge of the room, where rays of sun battled their way through bars and streamed in through glass. The guards discussed in hushed whispers the new Watcher. "I can't believe they're letting him go on vacation," Ely muttered, exasperated. "He knows what he signed up for: don't leave, get paid."

"He gets paid more than us just for staying here," replied Mikey, irritation heating his voice.

A third guard, one I didn't recognize, shrugged. "We get to go home after our shifts. He doesn't. Guy deserves some time away from this hell."

Mikey leaned against the wall, hand on his hip, nostrils flaring. "But this is last minute. We didn't even find out until a week ago."

Ely snorted. "The brass don't care about us. We're the last to know, first ones to do."

"What does that even mean?" Mikey and the other guy laughed, and Ely scowled.

I tuned them out; they clearly didn't have anything of value to overhear.

Noon.

Shoveling spoonfuls of saccharine cereal into my mouth, I mulled over my plan. Noon was during mingling time right before lunch.

I'd skulk to the farthest edge of the prison-the bathrooms, as my mother seemed to suggest-and pray my powers returned. From there, I'd do the next best option. Whether that was knocking out a guard and adopting his uniform, as cliche as that was, or smoldering the walls and leaving a hole for escape.

But it all depended on the current Watcher's range. And the new Watcher's range. And if the guards were stupid enough to leave a portion of the prison unprotected by ability cancellation.

I chewed on my lip. Too many variables were at play, but it was my best shot. My only shot, really.

I thought about what I'd do after I broke out. I hadn't allowed myself to think beyond butchering Proditio for her crimes, but now?

I wondered how I'd get in contact with Wais. Or how I'd know if everyone managed to snatch Hui and the bodies away from the all-knowing Proditio.

The only way they'd reach our dead loved ones and Hui was if Proditio allowed them. She knew everything long before it occurred- in fact, I didn't doubt she knew I planned to escape.

How could I kill someone like that?

My teeth tore into the last of the crunchy bits of flakes. My bowl now empty, with only mushy bits desperately clinging onto the sides of the bowl, I pushed myself up and handed my bowl off to one of the cafeteria staff.