CELLS A2 AND A3
Durango stared down at the iron bolt in Tristan's hand, utterly aghast. "Where the fuck!"
"Through the window. Someone with a big ladder."
"Are you nuts!" he whispered through clenched teeth.
"It's okay. He says he has an uplink somewhere, hooked into the Robotropolis computer mainframe. They have the cameras but they can't hear us. We're okay in here as long as they don't suspect anything."
That seemed to relax him, but he kept a wild look about him. "What else?"
"Not much." Tristan sighed. "No word on who's pulling the strings yet. We didn't talk for long, but that's understandable, right? He said he'd be back with more tomorrow."
Durango cocked an eyebrow. "Simon?"
"Yeah, Simon talked to him. Said that his name was Robert, that was hiding in the city."
"The city!"
"Amazing, yeah?"
"Almost too amazing, yeah…"
Tristan handed him the bolt. "Take it. Leave, and then I'll come out. Lay down on your bed and I'll be there in a bit." He folded Durango's fingers around the bolt for him, soaking up the last of the warmth. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."
Durango nodded.
"It's a break," he breathed, his eyes sparkling like fireworks in the night sky. "Hot damn, it's a break."
"Robert… Robert…" Durango rolled the name around in his mouth. It felt wrong. "You remember any Robert from Knothole?"
"… Not personally, if that's what you mean."
"Maybe one of the undercadets. How old did he look?"
Tristan shrugged. "Fifteen, sixteen, I only caught a glimpse. Red fur, fox. Sound familiar?"
"Shit, foxes are a dime a dozen around Knothole. Red, huh?"
"Bright, bright red. It's a wonder he can stay hidden."
"Yes. It is."
"Don't ruin this," he said, very serious. "Not yet. I know what you're thinking, and I'm thinking it too. But not yet. Just… let this hang for now, okay? We can use the hope."
Durango worked fast. He waiting as long as he could before letting Shirk know about it. Shortly thereafter, he brought Buster into their secret little circle, but it was harder to part with the precious hunk of metal. He managed, however, and made sure to emphasize the importance of secrecy.
"Fuck this up and I'll fucking kill you, got it?"
It must have worked. Before nightfall, all knew about Robert and the possibility of escape. Moods swung high into the stratosphere. Another full day come and gone.
Tristan was in his bunk over by the A1 cell, watching the neighbors. They appeared to be talking about something, a heated discussion over… whatever, it didn't matter, they might as well had been a continent away. There was no way he could tell them about Robert, but the mystery man himself would probably contact them, sooner or later.
"Hey, grim."
Tristan yawned, turning up on his side. "Hey. Not evening yet, is it?"
"How many times have you looked outside, grim?" Durango asked, watching his mirror image in the floor. "Any?"
"No," Tristan shook his head. "Simon tells me it's getting colder."
"Ha! Fucking raccoons know their weather, don't they?" He waited for a laugh, and frowned when he didn't get one. "You're not getting a winter coat."
"I know."
"No one is."
"… I know."
He fought to keep his voice from shaking. "I… hope we get out of here too. I'm not a complete prick inside and out, I just… it's better to be prepared. God! Everything in this place… the sheets, the food, the glass… I have to get rid of this thing." He held up a clenched fist, his hand quivering. "They probably search us while we're sleeping, go over every inch. There's no place to hide."
"No. No place to hide."
He took a deep breath, his chest expanding like a balloon. "We can't take a chance. You can… you can look at it one more time if you want."
"I have what I need," Tristan said quietly, eyes lowered.
The walk to the bathroom disappeared, as if Durango had spontaneously arrived under the showerhead and in one swift motion, he threw the bolt out the cell window. It sailed in a tremendous arc, centering two of the bars. He tried to listen for the crash, but didn't hear it.
He exited the bathroom, not knowing if he'd make it back to his bed.