The Undaunted (Book 2 of The Undesirables)

Chapter 6: The Choir Boy

Bobby crashed into the door.

Dr. Parsons had been telling the truth: it was unlocked.

Bobby tore down the hall like he was leading a fast break on his college basketball team. His shoes squeaked as he cut to his right and he slammed through another door.

He was in the laundry room, now. Huge, wheeled baskets were arrayed in rows. Bobby knocked them to either side like they were the opposing team's defenders and went straight for the hoop – which was, in this case, the laundry chute.

He dove inside.

Bobby cracked his skull into the side of the chute as he fell. He bounced back and forth against the narrow walls, the aluminum panels ripping through the skin of his arms and back. He landed in the dark, his leg twisting at an unnatural angle underneath him. Bobby immediately threw himself to the side, taking the brunt of the fall on his ribs instead of his twisted knee.

He had landed on a pile of prison uniforms, but the impact still knocked the wind out of him. Bobby tried to catch his breath. But he knew he didn't have much time. The warning siren was already wailing, alerting the entire facility to his attempted escape.

Lights flashed in front of his eyes. Bobby worried he was hallucinating. Maybe he'd smashed his head harder than he thought. Then he realized the lights weren't hallucinations; they were the beams from flashlights. The military police were right above him, holding open the laundry chute door and probing the darkness for any sign of him.

Bobby knew he had to move. He tried to get his feet under him, but the basket full of prison uniforms felt like quicksand. He floundered in the dirty laundry. Something banged above him and he felt an impact beside him. It was a wrench; the guards were throwing heavy objects down the chute, trying to cripple him to make his capture easier.

He and they would both be lucky if they didn't mistakenly kill him, instead.

Fighting off panic, Bobby leaned hard to his left. The laundry basket upended and he tumbled to the floor just as another heavy object smashed into the basket behind him.

Bobby finally struggled to his feet. Industrial laundry machines dominated the room. There was a light on his right: the loading dock. He limped between the giant machines, out onto the loading dock, and into the open back of a laundry van.

Leavenworth was surrounded by a perimeter fence and dozens of guard towers. Each tower had a searchlight, and they were probing the yard inside the prison. The siren was deafening out here, but between each wail he heard something else: barking.

Dogs had been released. It wouldn't take long for the bloodhounds to sniff him out.

A yellow beam slashed to Bobby's left.

Bobby squirmed away from it as the searchlight swept toward him. He crashed through the laundry van's cargo area into the cab, his back smashing into the steering wheel as he stumbled.

The light swept past him to probe some other dark part of the yard.

Bobby twisted in the seat so that he could see out the windshield. He had no idea what to do. His plan was ruined. The prison guards were on high alert. There was no way Bobby could escape under a panel truck, now. No vehicles would be allowed through the prison gates.

Bobby cursed Dr. Parsons and the O.S.S. Their plan was stupid. Bobby's was so much better. What did they expect him to do? Climb the fence? He'd be shot. And even if he wasn't the fence was topped with double coils of razor wire.

Maybe he could cut a hole in the chain link or excavate a trench under it. Bobby began to look around the laundry van, searching with his eyes for anything he could use to cut or dig. There were big jugs of bleach. He could cut one open, maybe form it into a crude shovel. He grabbed one of the jugs and reached for the car door.