Page 62 of Pulling Strings

Ahead, shouts preceded two prisoners tackling a guard to the ground. The guard dropped with a guttural scream as his attackers tore into him like wild animals into prey. Down the corridor, every cell door stood wide open.

A female prisoner barreled past, shrieking like abanshee. I watched her go, her hair fluttering like streamers in her wake.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I murmured.

Grimm grabbed my shoulder and gave me a shake. “Keep us safe, all right?” he said. “I’m counting on you.”

No pressure.

Leaving the doorway felt like playing a game ofFrogger. Move forward, wait, run quick, only to wait again. People raced by, and brawls broke out spontaneously. Prisoners assailed guards or each other. No one was off-limits.

Tiptoeing through the pandemonium proved pointless, so I started running.

Grimm kept up, both of us ducking and weaving through the throng of bodies that looked like horror movie villains in splashes of red.

Upstairs, the situation was no better.

Shouts and screeches mingled with the wailing siren, creating an unbearable cacophony. Somewhere in this madness, the other members of our group were waiting for us. But I had no idea how we would find them. We were just as likely to rush past as recognize a familiar face.

“This is insane!” I shouted to Grimm between panted breaths. “Was this the best plan you could come up with to get one guy out of prison?”

“Not justoneguy,” Grimm replied. “As many as we can.”

I glanced over to see his white teeth framed by a smile. First, infiltrating the Capitol. Second, inducting an untrustworthy rat into our ranks. Third, sending me to make nice with investigators who’d sooner skin me alive than work with me. And now releasing a mass of society’s undesirables from their cages? The planGrimm first outlined at the Bitters’ End had changed while I’d been away.

We arrived in the atrium. Ceilings stretched higher and rooms opened to halls that branched off in several directions. The cafeteria was to the right, the cell block left. Or was it the other way around? Maybe the library was down the far hall?

I turned a circle while my heart thrashed in my chest.

“Time is short, Fitch!” Grimm shouted. “Move!”

Inmates stampeded down one hall, funneling away from us. Others flurried from the corners of the room to join the herd. Someone crashed into my back, and I staggered forward as Grimm called my name again.

“Gimme a minute!” I snapped in response, rounding to where he’d been mere seconds before.

Not there.

In his place, two inmates scrabbled on the floor. Something metallic flashed in one’s hand as he struggled to pin his opponent to the ground. Grimm’s disguised face registered in my mind as the inmate attacking him moved to plunge the shiv into his chest.

I caught the assailant with one hand, flinging him away from Grimm’s prone form. The improvised weapon remained tightly clutched in the inmate’s grip as he landed on his back a few feet away. He lay stunned for only a second before letting out a roar. When he rose onto his knees, I mentally gripped his shiv-bearing arm and twisted it, burying the sharp end deeply in his throat. The prisoner fell silent as he sagged onto the ground, gushing blood.

“Get on the floor!” a guard’s voice called out. “Everybody down!”

Adrenaline spiked, driving me to move. Pick a direction and run.

Making a blind grab for Grimm, I caught hold of the front of his coveralls and hauled him to his feet. He stumbled after me as I took off without looking back, hoping the guards hadn’t brought rifles ready to gun us down.

We made it into a darker hallway where I stopped as Grimm doubled over beside me, cursing under his breath.

“A whole lot of fuss,” he muttered. “Better be worth it.”

I snorted. “No shit.”

Behind us, the guards continued barking orders. Taking control by force. The sound of gunfire made me jump, and I glanced at the walls of the corridor surrounding us. Several feet ahead, the word INFIRMARY was stencil-painted in block letters, accompanied by an arrow pointing ahead.

I sighed in relief and beckoned to Grimm, then did a double take at the sight of his visage. Hair sprouted in patches, his nose looked like it was melting, and one eye bugged out of its socket. The inmate’s attack must have done a number on his concentration.

“Come on,” I said, “but fix your face first.”

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