Breakout by Paul Herron (notion reading list .txt) 📕

crowd, a sudden drawing-in of breath. I whirl around and drop into a crouch. Sanchez’s knife stabs into the air where I’ve just been standing.

Sanchez kicks me, sending me sprawling. The cleaver falls from my hand. He tries to kick me in the face. I grab his foot and twist, then shove him as hard as I can. He falls back on his ass and I scrabble around in the water in search of the cleaver. I hear him coming back, splashing noisily. My fingers curl around the handle and I roll onto my back, taking a chance and launching the weapon through the air.

It hits Sanchez right in the forehead, bringing him to a sudden halt. The shouting and cheering stop. Everyone stares at Sanchez as he just… stands there. Then a trickle of blood slides right down the center of his face and over his nose. He tips forward, falling into the water.

The crowd screams, laughing and howling. I push myself wearily to my feet—

—and something slams into my back. I grunt in pain and stumble forward, half turning just in time to stop Jensen’s chair leg hitting me again.

I throw myself toward Sanchez and yank the cleaver free, then surge to my feet, and slam it hard into Jensen’s ribs as he runs at me. He screams and drops to his knees. Blood bubbles from the huge gash in his side, pooling out between shattered ribs.

The crowd is chanting, “Finish him, finish him.”

I hesitate, trying to catch my breath. I glance up at Dexter. He’s waiting to see what I do.

Three gunshots ring out. Panicked shouting erupts as everyone tries to scatter, unsure where the danger is coming from.

Then something flies into the center of the room, spraying clouds of white powder everywhere. The inmates push and shove each other to get away. The object rebounds off a wall and shoots past Dexter, clipping him on the side of the head as it does so. He goes down.

I scramble into the crowd, staying low. Everything is chaos as the white powder sprays over the rec room. I head for the door leading out of the unit, shoving inmates out of my way. I see Sawyer to my left, sprinting around the side of the wall as she runs through the pod.

The missile drops into the water, spinning around and around, still spraying spirals of white powder. I suddenly realize it’s a fire extinguisher that’s been punctured. Simple as that.

I hold the door as Sawyer bursts past me, then pull the key out of my pocket and shove the door closed. Some of the prisoners try to get out, but Felix is there waiting, and he holds the handle up while I ram the key home and lock the door.

I let out a shaky breath and sink down into the water, my back resting against the door.

“You okay?” asks Felix.

“What do you think?”

“I think you’re damn lucky to be alive.”

“Yeah. I could’ve done with some help in there.”

“You had it covered. I was watchin’.”

I turn my attention to Sawyer. “Thanks. Quick thinking.”

“No problem.” She holds up the gun. “Actually, slight problem. There were only three bullets in the magazine. I used them all.”

Felix snatches the weapon from her. “Where the hell did you get that?”

“Carl gave it back to me. Guess he liked me.”

“And you used all the bullets?” He ejects the magazine and stares at it in dismay.

“I didn’t know there were only three left.”

“Neither did we,” I say wearily. “Doesn’t matter now.”

Felix angrily rams the magazine home and throws the gun along the corridor. It spins through the air and lands with a splash.

“What the hell, man? We might be able to find bullets for it.” I push myself to my feet and wade through the water, heading toward the door leading to the inmate passage.

“Just leave it,” calls out Felix. “We’re not gonna find any bullets.”

I ignore him, feeling around with my feet as I get close to the door. My foot bangs into something heavy and I bend down to grope for it. As I do so, something catches my eye. The water seems to be pulling away from me, currents streaming toward the door. I move closer and see that the door has been pushed inward. There’s a gap between it and the frame.

I frown and straighten up. I put my hand in front of the gap. There’s wind, but not much. I crack the door slightly. It opens at my touch, moving inward.

The sounds of the storm grow louder. I can feel gusts of wind, but nothing like what I would be feeling if the whole corridor outside had been destroyed. I open the door wider. Still, nothing. No wind sucking me out to my death. No lashings of rain.

Now I’m confused, because Felix said this corridor had been destroyed. I pull the door wider. The area outside seems to be intact. Dark, but dry.

I hear Sawyer calling out. I can’t hear what she’s saying, but she’s probably telling me not to do anything stupid. I ignore her and step out into the passage. Wind hits me from the left, shoving me forward. I steady myself, turning to face it. The wall to my right—the outside wall of the prison—is still holding together here. The whole thing has collapsed, leaning in against the wall to my left to form a sort of triangular passage.

I duck down and take a few steps, peering into the darkness. There is a blockage up ahead. I crouch down, my hand touching the leaning wall just above my head. Felix was right. The corridor has been totaled, twisted wreckage and bricks lying everywhere, broken stone piled up and blocking the way. Wind buffets through unseen gaps, blowing against my face. I gently prod the rubble, but it doesn’t shift.

I turn around, facing back toward the right. I can’t see from here, but if the corridor is still in one piece going north, we can use it to