JESSICA’S COUGH WAS very convincing. The security detail at the end of the cell block didn’t question the guard escorting her, especially when they heard the magic word in a low, firm voice.
“Infirmary.”
The last thing they needed was a tubercular crone on their block. Stuff like that spread like wildfire. A buzzer sounded. A metal gate opened. The guards went back to their small talk, not noticing that the escort’s uniform was a particularly bad fit.
As she moved forward, Maddy could barely see. The helmet kept shifting on her head and the visor gave everything a dark cast. It was like being inside a bucket. She held the rifle at hip level and followed Jessica through the open gate and then down a short, windowless corridor.
“Are you sure that safety is on?” whispered Jessica, feeling the rifle barrel tap the small of her back.
“Yes, Grandma, I checked. Twice,” said Maddy. “Keep moving. Look sick.”
One more guard station to go. Once again, Maddy tucked her chin down and tried to force her voice as low as possible. She thought of that Shadow announcer on the radio.
“Infirmary,” she spoke into the grill at the front of the checkpoint kiosk. Jessica hawked up a nice wad of phlegm and spit it onto the cement floor. The guard quickly pressed his button.
Maddy and her prisoner reached the main gate just as the massive door was lifting. Outside, an idling bus was unloading a new crop. Maddy tipped her head toward one of the guards and gave Jessica a hard poke with the rifle.
Jessica produced another wet cough. The guard stepped back.
Maddy and Jessica walked through the scrum of guards and fresh prisoners near the entryway, then moved behind the bus, blocking themselves from the activity on the other side.
The roadway that led in and out of the prison passed straight through the entryway arch, just high enough for a bus to pass under. Beyond the arch, Maddy and Jessica could see the rippling water of the broad bay that bordered the road and, in the distance, the long bridge to the mainland. They walked quickly under the arch and around the outside of the wall, keeping their backs against the stone.
Suddenly a tall guard appeared from around the corner.
“Hey!” he called out. “Infirmary’s that way!” He pointed over his shoulder toward a red brick building on a small rise on the other end of the island.
Maddy gave him a thumbs-up and nudged Jessica in that direction.
“Damn rookie,” she heard the guard mumble as they walked past. He turned and walked back under the arch.
“Walk faster,” said Maddy, tapping the gun between her grandmother’s shoulder blades.
“Easy, soldier,” said Jessica. “I’m sick, remember?”
A new busload was rolling toward them on the road from the bridge. It slowed to a crawl as it approached the archway. Maddy waited until the bus was halfway past them, blocking them from the main building. She grabbed her grandmother’s arm and pulled her down a steep incline at the edge of the roadway. They lost their footing on the wet grass and slid wildly to the bottom of the slope. Halfway down, Maddy’s helmet flew off. The rifle spun away in another direction. Maddy and Jessica dug in their heels and stopped their slide just short of an ancient barbed-wire fence—the last barrier before the ragged shoreline. They rested with their backs against the damp slope for a few moments, catching their breath.
“You okay?” asked Maddy.
Jessica nodded. She pointed at the fence.
“You think it’s electrified?”
Maddy clambered up to retrieve the rifle from where it had lodged in the grass. She tossed it against the wire, barrel first. No sparks.
“It’s our lucky day,” she said.
Maddy held two rusty strands of wire apart with her gloved hands as Jessica crawled through. They were now about ten feet below the road, sheltered by the embankment—but trapped by the bay. The opposite shore was at least a half-mile away.
Maddy ripped at the Velcro fasteners on the muddy uniform. She pulled off the pants, then the vest, then the jacket, until she was down to her T-shirt and shorts again, now soaked with sweat.
The bus, empty again, was heading back toward the bridge. Maddy and Jessica flattened themselves against the muddy slope and waited for it to pass above them.
“There’s no way we’d get across that bridge without somebody stopping us,” said Jessica. “Too visible.”
They stared out at the brackish water. Near the shoreline, the water was patched with green algae. Farther out, the ripples were speckled with brown scum and dotted with floating bottles and disposable diapers.
A loud claxon sounded from behind the prison walls.
“They found our bare-assed guard,” said Jessica. “Let’s go!”
Before Maddy could say anything, Jessica was in the water up to her thighs. Maddy waded in after her grandmother until they were both shoulder deep, their feet sinking into a thick sludge on the bottom. They heard boots pounding on the roadway above them. Together, they pushed forward and started breaststroking their way toward the green park in the distance. Maddy didn’t want to think about what they were swimming through. She looked over at her grandmother, who was matching her stroke for stroke.
“Just grit your teeth,” said Jessica, “and filter out the big stuff.”