Harley Higgins spent the day preparing for the night. Operating under the theory that he was observed, he oscillated between two behaviors: sometimes prowling the house and grounds restlessly, like a caged tiger agitated by the call of the wild; sometimes sitting slumped on a lawn bench as if depressed or for long periods staring at the lake through the locked pier gate. He hoped to make them wonder if he was contemplating a dash for freedom by that route.
He also spent time with each of the other seven inmates, always contriving to make the encounters appear casual, always keeping them brief. Because his theory of observation included the possibility that anything he said might be heard, he’d sat on the toilet in his water closet to print two messages on the palms of his hands with a felt-tip pen. His left palm announced, ESCAPE 8:00. LIBRARY. NO SHOES. The plan continued on his right palm: THEY TRACK R SHOES. BLINK 3 IF YES. All seven blinked, and Harley felt that even Jimmy Cole, the most fragile of them, understood and would be there at eight o’clock.
Always in the past, Harley had chosen to make his break after midnight, when most of the staff had gone to sleep. If they had been monitoring his behavior all day, they might expect him to make a run for it later, according to his pattern, except by the pier gate this time. He decided on eight o’clock instead because most of the staff would be gathered in the main dining room for dinner; the inmates could move through the house with less chance of being seen.
By conspiring to take the other seven with him, he was putting the getaway at risk. It was easier to pull off a one-boy escape now that he knew about the shoes. Always before, however, his schemes had called for him to escape on foot, and it hadn’t been practical to keep seven other kids together with him through all the hazards that lay ahead. Now that he needed to plan for a barefoot breakout, going as a group was less challenging than it had been previously.
Besides, he couldn’t leave them in this place. Like him, they were coming apart inside, though faster than he was.
He was also hopeful that if they could get out of town and to the cops, eight of them would be harder to dismiss than one. The police would have to listen to eight and believe them. They would just have to.