15 – Caught!
My blunt approach, of course, was met with a blank stare. "You're insane," he declared as he half laughed, half hyperventilated, "Have you seen the guards? A couple of guys in my barrack tried to rush one of them—bad idea. One of them got his front teeth knocked out."
"That's why we have to work together," I explained, "Look, the girls have been working on a way to get everybody out at once, but to do it we have to shut down the communications room before the scientists can put out a distress call over the radio. The boys' bunks are right down the hall from there, so if you took our plan and used it to break out—"
"Forget it," he cut me off, "if they caught us we'd be dead. And even if I did want to help, there's no way I'd be able to convince the guys in my barrack to risk their necks on a last-ditch escape plan given to me by a fourteen-year-old girl."
I scowled slightly. "I'm sixteen, actually." But I had been expecting this sort of reaction. Now it was time to bring out the ace.
Donning a dramatically suspicious expression, I glanced nervously from side to side, as if double-checking to make sure nobody was listening in on us. "Look," I told him in a lowered voice, "I wasn't supposed to tell you this unless I absolutely had to, but since you won't take me seriously otherwise I guess I don't have a choice. The truth is, we didn't come up with the plan. Maximum Ride did."
A glint of interest appeared in his eyes. "Maximum Ride? As in, the girl with the wings and the whole 'world-saving' campaign?"
I nodded. "That's right, she's here at the complex. Where do you think they're getting the avian DNA for this experiment?" That's when I pulled Vera's feather out of my waistband, holding it up so that he could see it. "She's broken out of places like this before, and she says that if we all join forces we actually stand a chance at getting out of here in one piece. There's only six guards and twenty medical staff members, and we have the element of surprise on our side. After all, nobody expects a bunch of sick kids to try anything crazy."
The guy was quiet for a moment as he contemplated what I said, and then, "Alright, what's the plan?"
I grinned at him. "I'll bring a written copy to you tomorrow," I said, "but in the meantime, take these," I handed him the supplies I had swiped from Vera's room, which were still tucked into my waistband, "as long as you don't walk funny you should be able to smuggle these back to your barrack without a problem. You'll need them for the escape. Also, you'll need a way to insulate yourself from the fence. Rubber gloves, rubber bands—the more layers you can put between you and the fence, the better."
"Okay," he nodded, trying to take in all the details. Then he added, "I'm Craig, by the way."
"Craig..." I studied his face for a minute. He seemed familiar, for some reason. Had I met him before? "We'll talk more tomorrow. Be careful when you're sneaking that stuff back to your barrack, and make sure you hide the items really well so the guard doesn't see them." Before I left I told him a little more about our plan, giving him a basic idea of what they'd need to do and what to tell his bunkmates.
"Gotcha." Just as I was turning to leave, however, he called out, "Hey, Ella?"
"Yes?" I asked.
"Have you... have you seen my sister at all, since you got here? Her name is Anna. Anna Bartoli."
I froze up for a moment and swallowed nervously, unsure what to say. My gaze lowered, and told him, "I'm sorry, Craig. She's gone."
"Oh." An odd look crossed his face and he blinked hard, like he was trying to hold back tears. "I see." Clenching his jaw firmly, he blinked a few more times and then looked back at me, nodding. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"See you." Then I left, but not soon enough to avoid a new wave of sorrow—and a greater determination to get out of here before it was too late for the rest of us.
"It's a place called Springer Island," Gazzy explained, as he and Iggy worked together to set up a tarp, "I asked around, and everyone says the only building on it is an old abandoned factory."
"I'd bet my shoes they've turned it into some sort of School," Iggy grumbled, fiddling with the rope as he tried to knot his corner into place. The rain was getting worse, and if they didn't have this cover set up in time they would be sleeping on wet ground tonight.
"Nobody has been there in years," Gazzy continued, "but I talked to this one captain guy, and he said that before the takeover happened he started seeing small boats going to and from the island. I asked if he could take us there on his ship, but he said that nobody was supposed to leave shore until further notice, and that he didn't want to cause a stir with the Collectors."
"This rain isn't making things very seaworthy either, I bet," Iggy noted, securing the last corner and then taking shelter under the tarp. The rain was falling harder by the minute, and until this storm let up they could forget about flying.
Gazzy shivered and joined Iggy underneath. "If it gets really bad we'll have to find a building or something to hide out in. How long do you think it'll rain like this?"
"No idea," Iggy replied. "though I wonder if we'll get another rain like this anytime soon. Do you know if any of those weather factory things are up and running yet?" With the force field cutting off natural air and water flow, human intervention would be necessary to purify air and water and to manage the continental climate.
"Some of them, I think," Gazzy shrugged, "Now that things are settling down, they want to keep people busy with regular jobs so they don't get restless."
Iggy snorted. "Well I know that I'm getting restless."
"Maybe we should go work in a factory until the rain quits," Gazzy joked.
"Nah," he smiled, "Things will clear up in one, two days tops. Then it's clear sailing out to the island." Hang on, Ella, we're almost there.
I spent most of the rest of that day in the bathroom corner, writing my plan out—not only was my explanation lengthy, but it's pretty dang hard to write out an escape plan on a flimsy length of toilet paper. If the guard noticed how much time I spent behind the shower curtain he didn't let on, so other than stopping to grab my rations for the day I was hidden back there the whole time.
I finished copying out the plan just before lights out, then I hid the folded toilet paper in my waistband for safekeeping. As I did this I grimaced, my fingers brushing against the skin my sensitive stomach. I'd been cramping up since earlier that day, and I'd been feeling uncomfortably feverish for the last couple of hours. My optimistic side told me to blame my apparently worsening symptoms on paranoia or my monthlies, but at this point I knew there was a far more likely option. Still, I was determined to see this plan through to the end, if not for me then for all the other kids in this place.
The next morning I didn't feel any better, but I got myself out of bed anyways, carefully double-checking to make sure my toilet paper plan and Vera's food packets were well-hidden beneath my clothes. "Today's the day," I murmured, "We're finally going to put this plan into action."
"Ella, are you sure you should go today?" Kendra asked, "You look terrible."
"I'm fine," I lied, "I just didn't sleep well last night." In reality my insides were churning like a blender and every step made me want to double over in pain, but I had to stay strong. Everyone else was depending on me now.
I managed to hold myself together as the guard led me to the hall, knowing that if I showed how sick I really felt they might put me back and send someone else—someone who not only didn't have a copy of the plan, but might be from a different barrack all together. That could close our window of opportunity for good.
But I finally arrived at my assigned hall, and I dutifully started into my cleaning duties. It was a tedious job, trying to tidy up when I felt like I could vomit at any moment, but getting sick now wasn't an option. Craig and I shot knowing looks at each other as we swept our hallway floors, and when my tidy-up was done I snuck across to him and we ducked into an examination room together.
"Here's the plan," I told him, pulling out the paper wad and passing it to him.
"Toilet paper?" He snorted. "Classy."
I shrugged sheepishly. "We were going to use paper towel, but we had a few puke incidents that cut our supply short. Plus, the toilet paper isn't as bulky." Craig folded the paper up, and I politely looked away as he stuffed it down his pants. "Did you nab some rubber gloves?" I asked.
He nodded. "I told the guys in my barrack about the plan, and most of them are onboard. We've even started clearing out that caulking stuff so we can pass notes to the other barracks through the gaps."
"Great!" I told him, "Just be sure to—" all of a sudden the door opened, and an angry-looking guard stepped in.
"Just what do you think you're doing?" He questioned, glaring harshly at us. The guard took a menacing step closer...
