Burnington Gaol

O N E | Adeline

Somewhere deep in the heart of Burnington, two convicted murderers were planning their escape from prison.

My father was asleep at the tower window, overlooking the vast, moonlit prison with closed eyes. A small, soft smile tugged on my lips when I approached him, my sketch book tucked under my arm. I leaned down to gently kiss his temple. Then, a sudden shift, as something darted through the darkness beyond the window.

My head jerked and my tired eyes sharpened on the dark gaol, peering across it like a bird in flight. Yet, the air was still. The buildings were silent. I narrowed my eyes. Letting my hands drop from my father's shoulder, I pressed my face to the glass and looked beyond the walkway between the inner and outer wall, and into the prison courtyard. The milky white buildings all stood firm. The paths remained empty of inmates. I gulped as a dark, cold feeling washed through me.

Then I glanced down, saw two men stood at the base of the twenty foot outer wall. One scrambled up a rope, halfway from the top of the red brick while the other stood gingerly at the bottom, his eyes sharp and focused like two black beads, watching over the narrow walkway. I sucked in a gasp, felt all my muscles tense at once.

"Dad!" I shrieked. "Dad, wake up!"

I clutched his shoulder tightly and his eyes snapped open, shock filling his features.

"What? What?!"

"They're trying to escape!"

He looked down at the men. One was at the top of the wall.

"Shit."

He reefed the walkie talkie off the windowsill and shouted into the device, body trembling from the adrenaline coating his veins. The once still prison then boomed; lit up with blinding lights and blaring sirens. The man at the top of the wall panicked, looked down at his partner, and screamed something at him. The man at the bottom replied with a shout, then he waved him on.

Go! Just go! He seemed to say.

My father jumped from his chair and shoved past me, sprinting down the spiral staircase. In the same moment, the top of the walkway exploded, and an army of guards rushed in like a torrent through a dam. The man at the top of the wall looked between them and his partner. He offered a look of sympathy, and jumped to the other side. The man at the bottom watched him go, and then he did something that caused true fear to ripple within me.

He turned his head, and he looked at me. And that one look said it all.

It was a look filled with cold, malicious hatred, blame, and something else: a promise that he would one day find me and inflict unspeakable suffering - a fate worse than death. His dry, weathered lips curled into a sneer.

And then he ran.

© A.G. Travers 2018