Breakout, Paul Herron [chrome ebook reader .txt] 📗

She releases the button. Static. I skip to the next saved frequency. Again, nothing but static. Same for every other frequency Henry has taken the time to store in the radio.

“Shit. Guess it really does need the antenna.”

I exit the cabin again and peer into the small gap between the makeshift office and the shed wall. There, spooled neatly and resting on a hook on the side of the cabin, is what looks like about fifty yards of insulated copper wire.

I squint up at the ceiling. There’s a small trapdoor directly above the cabin that leads into the hidden roof space. That’s where Henry wanted me to attach the wire that would act as an antenna. I sigh. Nothing else to do. I grab the spool of wire and toss it up onto the cabin roof.

There’s an old extendable ladder leaning against the wall behind the tractor. I carry it over, lean it up against the cabin, then climb onto the roof. I pull the ladder up, then place it against the wall of the shed, bracing the base against the lip of the cabin roof. It isn’t much to anchor it, but it’s all I have. I loop the wire over my shoulder, then grab hold of the ladder and give it a shake.

“What the hell are you doing?” shouts Sawyer.

“Trying to get the radio to work! Just hold tight!”

I climb up slowly, tensing with every shift in weight and creak of metal. The ladder itself is one of those that bends in the middle to fold into a manageable size. But the joints have long ago rusted, meaning it’s extended all the time. That isn’t to say the rusted hinges will hold my weight. It could collapse beneath me at any moment.

I think I hear a noise from somewhere down below. I pause, stare over my shoulder to the door leading into the shed. I can’t see anything. I wait another few seconds, then carry on climbing until I reach the trapdoor in the ceiling.

I push it open, peering up into the darkness, then pull myself up into the roof space and straighten up, careful to stand on the struts. I reach up and feel for the metal framework of the roof, just like above the gym. The frame isn’t there to hold the roof up, but rather to stop anyone trying to escape. If I want an antenna, I’m not going to get anything much better than this. A metal framework that travels the length and breadth of the entire shed.

The heavy chains that are used to support the weight of engines in the inspection pit travel up into the ceiling space, bolted directly to the support framework. I bite the insulation off the end of the copper wire, stripping it down and peeling away about two feet. Then I move slowly over to the chain and wind the copper up through the links as far as I can reach.

I head back to the trapdoor and kneel down. I’m about to call out to Sawyer to ask if it’s working when I see two figures moving through the repair shed.

It’s Veitch and Cassidy. The last of Kincaid’s men.

Note to self: listen to your gut next time.

I need to do something. Fast. They’re going to investigate the cabin. Either that or Sawyer is going to come out to see what I’m doing. Veitch and Cassidy are both holding metal piping they’ve ripped from somewhere. No guns, though, which is good. I wonder what happened to them. Did the Bloods steal them when they stormed Unit 4? If so, I offer up a silent thank-you to Dexter and his crazy-ass followers.

I lower myself gingerly onto the ladder, carefully placing my weight on the first rung, wincing at the creaking sound it makes. I glance over my shoulder. Veitch and Cassidy are looking through a toolbox on the other side of the shed. I start to climb down, willing myself to be as light as possible.

I feel the ladder shift slightly on the roof of the cabin.

I freeze and look around again. One leg of the ladder has slipped over the lip of the roof.

Veitch is still nosing around in the toolbox. He takes out a heavy wrench that has been missed by the other looters and hefts the weight in his hand. Cassidy, however, is wading toward the cabin, a frown on his face.

I lick my lips nervously. Don’t look up. Whatever you do, don’t look up.

Then two things happen at once. Sawyer shouts from inside the cabin: “Constantine. I think it’s working!”

And the ladder slides over the cabin roof.

I drop straight down with the ladder, hitting the roof hard and rolling to the side. I wince and push myself painfully to my feet.

And lock eyes with Cassidy.

Then I hear the clump of footsteps from below as Sawyer approaches the door.

Fuck it.

I leap from the top of the cabin, aiming directly for Cassidy. To his credit, he actually manages to stay upright when I hit him. He staggers back slightly as I collide with him, but it’s me who ends up flat on my ass in the water.

I scramble to my feet and lash out, hitting Cassidy in the chin with my good arm. He stumbles back, falling against the tractor. I follow up with a kick to his stomach. His breath explodes from his lungs and he drops to his knees, wheezing erratically.

I throw a look over my shoulder to see Sawyer standing in the doorway, taking a hesitant step toward us.

“Go!” I shout. “Use the radio.”

“Watch out!” she screams.

I whirl around to find Veitch swinging the heavy wrench at me. I duck away, tripping over Cassidy’s sprawled legs. Veitch keeps coming. He brings the wrench down. I roll away just in time and he smashes it into Cassidy’s shins instead.

Cassidy screams. I scramble to my feet, splashing through the water, and dart behind the tractor. Veitch comes after me. I look around desperately for something to use