CHAPTER 004
944 Words
LYRA’S POINT OF VIEW
The air in my cell was heavy, pressing down on me like a thick, invisible weight. Every breath I took felt like a countdown, each second ticking away as if the walls themselves knew what was coming.
I placed a hand over my stomach.
I had no choice.
If I stayed here, my baby would be born behind these iron bars, their first cries echoing in this cold, lifeless place.
I wouldn't let that happen.
A low, sharp voice cut through the silence.
"You break, or you break out."
Celeste’s words.
And tonight, we were breaking out.
"Are you ready?" Celeste’s voice barely rose above a whisper as she leaned against the damp concrete wall of my cell. Her eyes flickered with something I couldn't quite place—something between excitement and danger.
I nodded, my throat dry.
"Yes."
Her lips curled into a smirk. "Good. Once we embark on this journey, there's no turning back. There are no second chances. We either run fast, or we don’t run at all."
No stopping.
There are no second chances.
The words settled deep in my chest like stones sinking to the bottom of a river.
We had spent weeks planning this. The riot in the prison yard would be our distraction. When the guards were focused on controlling the chaos, we would slip through the hidden passage under the infirmary—a maintenance tunnel that led to the outer fence.
Beyond that, there was nothing but trees, darkness, and the unknown.
If we made it past the first gate, we had a chance.
If we didn’t…
I didn’t let myself think about that.
The sound of heavy boots stomping down the hall made me flinch.
A guard slammed his baton against the bars of my cell.
"Lights out!"
The prison went dark, but even in the pitch-black silence, I could feel Celeste watching me.
Waiting.
"You better run fast, princess," she murmured. "Because once this starts, we’ll have minutes. Maybe less."
I swallowed hard.
Run.
I could do that.
I had to.
The riot started with a scream.
A single, bloodcurdling scream cut through the stale prison air like a blade.
Then—chaos.
Shouts.
The sound of fists slamming against flesh is heard.
The sight of bodies colliding, falling, and breaking was breathtaking.
The guards stormed the yard like a swarm of hornets, batons swinging, boots stomping. The alarms blared, their deafening wail vibrating through the concrete.
This was it.
Celeste grabbed my wrist.
"Move!"
We ran.
Ducking low, we weaved through the madness, slipping past the guards who were too focused on breaking bones to notice us. My heart thundered against my ribs.
The infirmary door was just ahead.
Unlocked.
Wide open.
We slipped inside.
The sharp scent of antiseptic hit me first, then the sight of metal beds, bloodstained bandages in a trash bin, and the dull hum of flickering overhead lights.
Celeste moved fast. She ripped up a loose tile in the floor, revealing a dark hole beneath it.
A tunnel.
"Go!" she hissed.
I hesitated. The tunnel was black and endless. There was a gaping mouth, ready to swallow us whole.
Then—
A gunshot.
A bullet slammed into the wall inches from my head.
I jumped.
And I dropped.
The tunnel was cold and damp. The air smelled of earth and rust. The ground beneath my hands and knees was uneven. My breathing was too loud and too fast.
Celeste slid in behind me, pulling the tile back over the hole, trapping us in the suffocating darkness.
"Keep moving," she whispered.
I couldn’t see her, but I could feel her presence behind me, urging me forward.
The tunnel stretched on forever. Every scrape of my fingers against the dirt, every drip of water from above— every frantic breath felt like it would be the last.
Then—
There is a faint glow ahead.
The exit.
We crawled faster.
And then we were outside.
The night air wrapped around me like a shockwave—crisp, cold, real.
We were out.
But we weren’t free.
The fence loomed ahead, its barbed wire glinting under the prison floodlights.
There are just a few more feet to go.
Then—
"STOP!"
A guard’s voice sliced through the night.
The beam of a flashlight landed on us.
Then—
Gunfire.
The first bullet hit the dirt inches from my foot. The second bullet swiftly passed by my ear.
Run.
I ran.
Celeste reached the fence first. She pulled a piece of cloth from her pocket, tossing it over the barbed wire before climbing.
I grabbed the metal, my fingers slipping on the cold steel as I hauled myself up.
The sirens wailed.
More guards.
More bullets.
Celeste hit the ground on the other side.
She turned—
A guard tackled her.
"NO!"
I froze, my heart lurching.
Celeste struggled, kicking, thrashing, and fighting.
"Go!" she gasped.
"NO!" I reached down, desperate, my fingers grazing hers.
"GO!" she screamed. "LIVE FOR YOUR CHILD!"
Tears burned my eyes.
The guards were closing in.
I hesitated.
Please wait for a moment.
Then my feet moved before my mind did.
I ran.
I was walking through the trees.
He was walking through the darkness.
Branches tore at my skin, leaves slapping against my face, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.
The sounds of shouting faded behind me.
The prison lights disappeared.
The road appeared ahead.
And then—
A truck.
The driver slowed, rolling down the window.
"Need a ride?"
I hesitated.
Then—
I climbed in.
The truck rumbled forward, carrying me into the unknown.
I had escaped.
But at what cost?
- Writer
