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Twenty-three sheets total.
I’d estimate the height of the cliff to be maybe two hundred feet or more. Tying the sheets together would probably shave off a good hundred of that, with the knots and the length used to secure it to something. Enough to climb down halfway and fall into the water below. I’ve no idea where the water goes from there, and it doesn’t really matter, because anywhere is better than being trapped in an inescapable prison with two psychopaths who get off on torture.
I set to work on tying the knots, securing each sheet together with enough force that it doesn’t slip when tugged. The lengths lay coiled in a pile on the table, my hands trembling with excitement and adrenaline, while my head works to formulate a plan of action. So many questions to tease out, like how do I get Will out of his cell? How do I distract the guards long enough to secure the rope of sheets to something? What are the chances that we’ll fall from the rope too soon and crash to our deaths? And if we do make it, and we manage to swim to shore, are we equipped to survive what’s out there?
Once the knots are fastened, I coil the sheets like a long stretch of rope, which I slide onto my shoulder. As one of only four females in this camp, sneaking around is a bit harder with the guards, who seem to notice me every time I step outside of this building. I have to hide this somewhere, though. Somewhere safe and convenient, ready to go, for when the time comes, and my cell isn’t an option, given how frequently Agatha and the guards come and go and what few storage places there are. As easily as Remus found my bird, they’ll surely find a rope of over twenty sheets. No, the best place is the row of shrubs along the edge of the building nearest the cliff. If I hide it there, I can easily drag it out and secure it to something.
When I reach the top of the stairwell, I crack the door and find two guards smoking cigarettes at the building’s entrance. One of them walks away, and after another minute, the other follows. Once they’re out of view, I sneak from my hiding spot and tiptoe across the building’s foyer. I’m imagining Agatha passed out with a drink, as usual. And I’ve no idea what Remus is doing. Probably tormenting something. At the door, I peer out to the prison grounds, where the guards have gathered by the fence at the opposite end. Five of them sit crouched to the ground in the thick of some game, from what I can make out. Maybe dice, as I’ve seen them play on occasion.
The darkening sky, on the cusp of night, offers only a small bit of cover, and with the coiled sheets on my shoulder, I step out of the building. Keeping tight to the wall, eyes on the guards, I slide my way to the opposite side.
If any of them look up, they’ll undoubtedly question what the hell I’m doing, and I just hope they won’t shoot first and ask questions after. For now, though, they seem relatively engaged in their game, shouting and laughing, making enough noise on their own that they likely don’t hear the crunch of gravel beneath my feet. I back myself around the corner of the building, until I’m completely out of their line of view.
When something bumps into me, I let out an involuntary gasp that’s quickly capped by a hand at my mouth. My whole body tenses, and the rope of sheets slips from my arm.
“What are you doing?” At the familiarity of Tom’s voice, my muscles sag with relief, and he lowers his hand from my mouth.
I turn to face him, throwing one more glance over my shoulder, and lean into him. “Did you follow me?”
“No, I came out to take a piss and found you tiptoeing around like a girl who’s trying to get herself killed.” He slides his gaze toward the fallen sheets and back. “What’s that all about?”
“I found a way out. A way to escape.”
“What? Parachute?”
“No. But … that wouldn’t have been a bad idea, either.” Shaking my head free of the distraction, I clamp my eyes shut. “I have about a hundred, or so, feet of rope. I can climb down and drop the remaining hundred, or so, feet.”
“The cliff is actually closer to two-fifty. But that’s not the real issue. If you don’t get enough push from that wall, you’ll end up on the rocks, instead of the water. There’s a stiff drop off about fifty yards out, but you need some force to skirt the shallows, and if you don’t land right, you’ll break your legs.”
“You sound like you’ve attempted this before.”
“All that time down in solitary gives a man time to think. The other problem is impact. You hit the water, gasp, and drown.”
“Which all sounds like a much better end than being locked up in a cell and pregnant with a baby Rager.”
“I don’t blame you for this, Thalia, trust me. I don’t want to be here, either. But you’ll die trying to escape this place. It was designed for no escape.”
“I’ll die staying in this place.”
Tom rubs a hand down his face and shakes his head. He points off toward the edge of the cliff, where one of the crags sticks upright. “You’re gonna want to secure it on that rock. Tight. It sticks out from the wall, and if you can get enough swing at the bottom, you might be able to drop into the deeper waters.”
“You could come with us.”
“Us? You planning to take that boy with you?”
“Well, it’s funny that I’m talking to you now, because the next part of my plan was to see about unlocking Will’s cell.”
“One of you escaping is dangerous. Two is downright stupid.”
“Three is probably impossible, but I’m still hoping you’ll consider coming along.”
Huffing, he shakes his head, staring off toward the edge of the cliff that disappears to a dark void. “No one’s ever jumped that cliff and lived to tell the story. You know that, right? Not as long as this prison has been standing.”
“Then, we’ll either be the first, or the last. Either way, it’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
Chapter 19
Three days pass in this place, and every hour is a game of anticipating what Remus and Agatha will do next, and when I’ll finally escape. After having said something to Tom, I feel as if I’m being watched closer than before by the guards, who always seem to be around. My hope is that he didn’t betray me, but I suspect if that were the case, I’d have been called to Remus and Agatha by now and punished for my conspiring. I’m certain the presence of the guards is my own paranoia making escape far more difficult.
