Dark Universe Series: Prison Break.

Chapter 6.

Scott got through the metal detectors without problems, but when it came to the pat-down search he knew he was in trouble.

"What in darnation you got there, son?" the old-timer asked.

Scott shrugged apologetically and opened his shirt where he'd stuffed the towel with the kittens. "Someone abandoned them. What could I do?"

"Well, we don't allow no animals inside. You're gonna have to leave them outside."

"Outside where? If I leave them in my car they'll roast in five minutes. If I leave them in the shade in the compound they'll wander off and someone will tread on them or the coyotes will get them."

Scott unwrapped the kittens on the counter. He took off his shades and focused helpless blue eyes on the female officer who was there to search the women and children.

She tickled one of the kittens behind the ear, and it fell over, cutely. "Oh boy, are they cute," she said on cue. "How could anyone abandon you cute kitties, hm?"

"Reckon they need feeding, too," Scott said mournfully.

"Reckon you're right," she said.

"Don't suppose you'd take them?" he asked hopefully.

She shook her head regretfully. "My girl's got allergies," she told him. "But we'll look after 'em while you're in there."

"Much obliged, ma'am."

Scott carried on into the visitor's area. He took a seat and waited.

After five minutes, a very big man with a shaved head approached on the other side of the partition. He had tattoos on each arm, one reading 'Mother' while the other paid homage to 'Marlene'. He eyed Scott suspiciously. Scott motioned him to pick up the phone.

"Hey there, Jimmy," he said conversationally.

"Do I know you?" the big man asked.

"The name's Jack."

"You with my lawyer?"

"No, I'm with Marlene."

"What in hell're you talkin' about? Who the hell are you?"

Scott was a man who did his research. He'd chosen his mark carefully. He leaned forward and looked the big man very intently in the eye. "I'm the man who's sleeping with your wife, Jimmy."

There was three second pause. Then all hell broke loose. The big man leapt to his feet, catapulting his chair into the air in the same movement, and breaking it with all his might on the partition, hitting it with enough force to make the whole structure rattle. He clambered up onto the elbow rest, pulling at the reinforced Perspex in his efforts to demolish it and get to Scott. "I'll kill you, you sonofabitch! I'll kill you! Marlene! Marlene!"

At the other end of the room, someone yelled "Riot!" with a joyous abandon, and half a dozen other prisoners got into the mood, breaking chairs and thumping the partition. Behind them, the prison guards fled.

Scott sensed this was the moment to exit.

In the entrance area, five guards were now poring over the workbench where Scott had left the kittens. They had one apiece, and, under the direction of the female warder, were engaged in feeding them formula via a series of improvised droppers. Another two had been drafted in to take over the search duties of the incoming visitors. They all seemed pretty well oblivious to the sudden rush of their colleagues in from the compound and the red flashing light and siren that had gone off.

Scott smiled gently.

The lady warder glanced up and caught his eye. "Here we go. All fed and done. You'll need to feed them every two or three hours until they can take solids."

He reached over and kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you."

She blushed prettily. "Go on with you now."

Her male colleagues rather reluctantly relinquished their small charges back into the towel. She packed up some formula and a dropper for Scott.

He indicated back over his shoulder. "By the way, there's something going off in there. Jimmy someone? You might want to lend a hand."

"Jimmy?" The guards all blanched en masse and rushed for the visitors' area.

Scott scooped up the kittens and headed out to his car. He reached for his radio mike. "F.A.B., boys."

He was rewarded with the sound of a truly deafening explosion from the far end of the compound.

…

In the exercise yard everyone was flat on their faces. Virgil and John had been blown clear off the bleacher. Where the perimeter fence once stood there was now a crater twenty yards wide. The watch tower and the bleachers, and several other structures nearby had caught alight, and the guards were scrambling over themselves in an effort to flee the flames.

"Jeez!" muttered Virgil. His voice sounded odd inside his head. He shook his head in an attempt to clear his ears. He seemed to recall that Scott's instructions had been that there should be a small explosion. 'Enough to put a two-man-sized hole in the perimeter fence' had been the precise brief. He was certain of it. He could clearly recall Scott's voice saying it. He ducked a piece of flaming debris and grabbed hold of John's arm.

Virgil tugged to no avail. John was rooted to the spot. He was gazing at the carnage with something approaching mystic revelation. The flames danced golden in his eyes. "It's beautiful," he breathed. "Virgil, it's so beautiful."

Virgil sighed. He knew the signs. He stopped trying to drag John along with him and settled instead for slugging his brother with a hefty left hook, then hoisted him up, and ran for the gap in the fence.

Outside the compound he just kept on running as fast as was humanly possible with a hundred and eighty pounds of unconscious pyromaniac over one shoulder.

Dimly, through the heat haze on the horizon, he could see a distant speck. It began to loom larger. He was also aware of movement to his left; Gordon, who'd left his hiding place and was sprinting to join him.

Behind him, there were was a lot of shouting and panting and some other noises. Virgil had the horrible feeling it might be the sound of bullets kicking up earth, but he didn't stop to find out.

The speck on the horizon was now clearly recognisable as a jeep. It was traveling at about one-twenty over the rough terrain. Finally it did a ninety degree turn and screeched to a halt in front of them. Virgil threw John onto the back seat and himself in afterwards. Gordon clambered into the front.

Virgil glanced back. Yards behind him was the entire crowd that had gathered around them on the bleachers. Some of them were still yelling at him. Some of them were looking back at the compound, a bit confused, as though wondering where they were exactly. Virgil wondered whether they were still thought he was trying to harm John. Beating his brother into unconsciousness probably hadn't helped matters any.

Alan put his foot flat on the accelerator, tossing off a couple of inmates who'd been unwise enough to try to hitch a lift.

Gordon reached back over to look at John, perturbed. "What happened?"

"You did, you moron," Virgil groused bad-temperedly. "A small explosion, Scott said. Not something that was measurable in megatons. You've ruptured my eardrum. Gordon, you're an idiot!"

"Trying to, like, drive here, guys," Alan advised tightly.

"What were you doing so close to the fence in any case?" Gordon countered defensively. He eyed John in some consternation. "You were supposed to be yards away."

"We were where we supposed to be. Near the perimeter fence. I didn't expect it to turn into a flying death hazard. I mean, look at the state of John."

Gordon blanched a little.

John groaned and tried to sit up. He felt his jaw gingerly. "Man! Did you just deck me?"

Gordon swung back around at Virgil. "You hit him?"

"Still driving," Alan advised. "Fast."

"He was…well, you know how he gets…around…you know…," Virgil shrugged meaningfully.

Gordon's jaw set. "So you were just going to let me think I'd nearly killed him? That it was all my fault?"

"Guys! I need my concentration here. Will you quit, already?"

"That explosion was ridiculous. If you'd used the right about of explosive, things wouldn't have…" Virgil lowered his voice "…caught on fire. So, yes! It's your fault."

"You have got to be…"

Alan brought the car juddering to a halt so fast that Gordon had to grab the dash to stop himself going through the windshield.

"What?" Gordon asked, perplexed.

Alan glared at him. "That's it. Out!"

"What?"

"All of you. Out! How in hell can I drive a getaway car if you don't all SHUT THE HELL UP AND LET ME CONCENTRATE?"

Gordon, Virgil and John looked at one another. Gordon spread his hands. "How can it be a getaway car if we don't get away?" he asked.

Alan glared a little more. "I don't care! Right now I'm happy to leave you all out here for the authorities. I never wanted in on this stupid deal in the first place."

"Alan. C'mon." Gordon's voice was more conciliatory now. "We'll shut up. I promise."

"Out!"

"Scott will hunt you down to the ends of the earth. You know this."

"Damn!" Alan's eyes narrowed. He considered further. "I'll take the risk. OUT!"

Gordon and Virgil opened their respective doors.

"Alan, Alan, Alan," John soothed, slightly patronisingly. "If we get out, Gordon, Virgil and I will get caught. If we stay here we all do time. Why would the three of us get out and leave you footloose and free?"

Gordon stared at him admiringly. "Damn, you're good. Even with concussion you're good."

He and Virgil shut their respective doors.

Alan's brow creased. "Dammit," he muttered, putting the car back into gear. "Not another word. Not one single word! Or I swear I'll make us all give ourselves up."

His three brothers exchanged their best Alan in a strop face-pulling.

But the getaway proceeded in smooth silence.

…