The day passes slowly for the four prisoners in Camp Trin’s jailhouse. Lex spends most of the day alternating between sleeping, crying, and waiting for dinner. Cannon spends most of the day pontificating and ranting about everything from unjust imprisonment to the great baseball players of the Good Ol’ Days (such as Ted Williams, Tom Brady, and Bobby Orr). Rach spends most of the day antagonizing Cannon or playing the various versions of solitaire that she’s devised during her many stays at Camp Trin Pen. Tay, on the other hand, has barely taken her eyes off of her cell lock all day. Plan after plan, idea after idea, scenario after scenario. More so than any of the others, she needs to escape.
By the time the sun has gone down, Tay has made up her mind that there’s only one plan that check all three of her boxes: Escape Camp Trin, keep Lex as a prisoner, and don’t die. She jingles the cell’s chain around to get everyone’s attention. “Hey.”
Rach answers, “Hey what?”
“We’re getting out of here.”
Cannon says, “Well, yeah, I’m gettin’ out of heah. Once everyone calms down and realizes that I’m the guy who saved the day. Wouldn’t be surprised if they throw a parade for me. Maybe name a holiday aftah me.”
“I’m getting out of here too,” Lex says. “Once they send word to my father, he’ll send an envoy here the clean up this mess and let everyone know who I really am.”
Rach moves some dust around on the floor of her cell, checkmating whatever invisible opponent she’s playing against. “Yeah, I mean, I’m literally definitely getting out of here. I’m not like you guys, I didn’t kill anyone or pretend to be royalty. I just got drunk. Whoopdy doo.”
“Cannon Day,” Cannon says after a few moments of thought.
“I’m not lying about being royalty!”
“I mean,” Tay says, trying to speak over everyone, “I mean that we’re all getting out of here. Tonight. We’re breaking out.”
“Uh, no, no I’m not breaking out,” Cannon says. He starts gesticulating through the bars of his cell. “My whole thing right now is that I’m tryin’ to show these people that I’m not like you kids. I’m not crazy, I’m not a criminal, I’m just a guy who didn’t do anything wrong. Soon enough, somebody’ll figuah that out. I’ll be set free, badda bing badda boom, and I nevah have to come to shit shitty ass town again.”
“Um, yeah, I also don’t need to break out. I didn’t do anything wrong, and also my dad is literally the king. Once everyone figures that one out, they’ll let me go.
“Yeah, Morgan was pretty clear that I’d be out once I’ve sobered up. And, yeah, I’m pretty much there, so, no thanks, not breaking out.”
Tay grumbles and sinks backwards into her shitty little bed of hay. That wasn’t the response she was hoping for. She doesn’t know the layout of the prison, nor does she know how much resistance she’ll have to deal with. In short, she knows that there’s no possible way of breaking out of here by herself. She’ll need to think of a way to sweeten the deal.
“How you plannin’ on gettin’ outta heah anyway? You gonna wrestle the keys off the wahden? You and what ahmy? Plus, I don’t know if you noticed, but you’ah locked up in a little cage just like the rest of us. Bet you didn’t even think about that. You gotta think these things through, kid. Sheesh.”
“The warden isn’t the only one with keys,” Tay responds. “When that other guard came in, Diaz, he had a keyring on his belt.”
“Alright little miss Einstein, how do you know they’ah the right keys?”
“Actually, she’s probably right.” Rach abandons her little dust solitaire game and comes up to her bars. “The prison’s not very big. I’ve been here enough times that I’ve seen all the cell blocks. Just two more of them, both identical to this one with four cells a piece. 12 cells in total, but I’m like 99% sure that all the cells in each room use the same key. Three keys in total. Marauder girl, how many keys did you see on Diaz’s keyring?”
“It’s Tay. And three.”
“Bingo.”
“So you’ll help me then?”
“Oh, absolutely fucking not.” Rach smiles encouragingly. “But it’ll be fun to see what you come up with.”
“Alright wise guy, so how ah you gonna get those keys? Again, I don’t know if those eyes on the front of your head work or not, but there’s some pretty lookin’ metal bahs keepin’ you in and keepin’ that Diaz guy out. I don’t think those keys ah comin’ off his belt, and unless he gives us some kinda sexy little cop strip tease, I don’t think think those pants ah comin’ off his body.”
“I’m a thief. I’ll find a way.”
Rach raises an eyebrow. “What, you planning on pick pocketing him? Gonna be tough to do through a set of iron bars. Plus, seems like you guys already have a history with each other. I don’t think he’s gonna give you any leeway.”
“I’ll think of something.”
Lex says, “It’s cute that you think that, even if you do somehow manage to break out of this building, you’ll somehow evade the full weight of the New English army swooping down on you. You Marauders have slipped through the cracks for long enough, but now that you’ve attempted to kidnap the prince, you can bet that your days are numbered.”
“Everyone keeps sayin’ the word Maraudah, what the hell is a Maraudah?”
“They’re a clan of roaming bandits from the lands west of New England,” Lex says. “Usually all they do is terrorize and steal from small communities who can’t defend themselves, but it looks like they’re getting into the game of kidnapping royalty and pretending to be their friend.”
Tay grimaces. “I do what I have to do.”
“Yeah, same heah, kid, but that doesn’t mean I go around stealin’ shit that ain’t mine. I work hahd. Good, honest work.”
“You don’t understand.” Tay shakes her head.
“Excuse me? I risk my life every day huntin’ bugs. I ride my bike to every goddamn cornah of New England. I deal with shitbags like Dandy Montero--”
“--Daisy Montego,” Rach corrects.
“Yeah, Dandy Montego, just so I can afford to live. I think I understand pretty goddamn well.”
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Lex plays with his fingers. “Yeah, I, uh, I guess I don’t really understand that whole... That whole ‘struggle’ thing. But, like, still. Kidnapping, not cool. Especially when it’s me, and especially when you pretend to be someone you’re not.”
Tay rolls her eyes. “Neither of you have any idea what my life is like.”
“I know you’re nothing more than a lying cutpurse, just like your family,” Lex says.
“I am not like my family.”
“Didn’t the wahden say you killed a guahd yestahday? And you tried to kidnap Mr. Fakey McFakePrince ovah heah.”
“Real prince.”
“Yeah, whatevah. Point is, seems like you’ah an awful lot like your family. A killah’s a killah.”
Tay drags in a ragged breath through her nose. “I did what I had to do.”
Cannon puts his hands on his face. “Oh, oh, I get it. So, you had to kill that guy. That guy who probably has a family and friends and a whole ass life. Oh, yeah, okay, I think I get it now.”
Lex snorts. “Yeah, totally makes sense.”
“You believe this kid?” Cannon laughs. “I mean, come on.”
“My family was going to-- What am I doing? I don’t need to explain myself to a moron pizza boy and a stuck up prince.”
“No, you don’t,” Lex says. “I already know everything I need to know about you.”
“Same heah, and let me tell you. You’ah just like your fuckin’ family.”
Tay runs up to the bars of her cell and shouts, “I am not like my fucking family! I hate my fucking family!”
The words hang in the air. Tay’s chest heaves up and down with every breath. Her face is red. She feels like she just ran a marathon. She’s always prided herself on being composed. Keep a level head, get the job done. Cool, calm, collected. But that little outburst, that was not very cool nor calm nor collected. It bubbled out of her mouth like vomit. It was barely in her control. She hates not being in control. And yet, she feels, dare say... Good? Maybe not good good. The circumstances are still very horrible for her. Still, though, she feels a kind of catharsis that she’s never felt before. Those words, that thought, the word hate, it’s all been living in the back of her mind for longer than she’d like to admit. To actually say those words out loud, to give voice to that evergreen thought, it feels like a weight off her shoulders.
The rest of the prisoners can see it. After that little outburst, Tay stands a bit straighter. Lex doesn’t see this, of course, because there’s a wall between the two of them, but what he lacks in athleticism he makes up for in empathy. He knows a breakthrough when he hears one. And so he, Rach, and even Cannon let the moment linger for a bit. Silence. Nobody really wants to say anything. Nobody knows what to say. These people are strangers at best, enemies at worst. They’re not monsters, though. They can appreciate when a moment is a moment.
Tay’s breathing begins to slow. The heat in her face starts to dissipate. The lump in her throat dissolves. “I hate my family. I hate what they do. I hate who they are. I hate them.”
Cannon looks diagonally across the way at Lex, who shrugs. He can’t see Rach, but he can practically feel her shrugging as well. He looks across at Tay. “That... That doesn’t make any sense.”
Tay sits back on her bed. “I know that I’m complicit in what they do. I mean, I do it, too. I tried to kidnap Lex. But, you just don’t understand what it’s like back at camp. I’m one more fucked up mission away from them abandoning me entirely. And I know that sounds like it should be a good thing, because all they do is make my life worse, but, if I didn’t have them, I don’t know what I’d--”
“No. No, I mean, like, those words, they don’t make any sense.”
Tay cocks her head. “What? You said it yourself, they’re killers. They take from others, then they go on to the next--”
“No, I heah that, but--”
“Do you not understand the words I’m using? Should I dumb it down for you--”
“--You’ah not fuckin’ listnin’ to me and you’ah not makin’ any sense--”
“--I hate my family because they’re awful, what about that do you not--”
“--Shut the fuck up for a goddamn second and let me talk, alright? Okay? Thank you. Sheesh. Listen. Those people sound like assholes. I’d hate ‘em, too. But sayin’ you hate your family, that’s nonsense.”
“I think you might be the dumbest person on the planet.”
“Uhh, check the mirrah, kid.”
“Then what are you talking about?”
“I’m sayin’ that the words you’ah usin’ ah gobbledy gook. Nonsense. Gibberish. You can’t hate your family. It’s not just possible.”
“I really don’t know how to be more clear about the fact that I do.”
“No, fuck, okay, listen, you’ah makin’ my brain hurt. Like, like, okay. What’s your favorite flavah of ice cream?”
“I don’t eat ice cream.”
“Don’t eat-- what the fuck? What do you mean you don’t--”
“Maple walnut,” Lex answers meekly.
“Great. Okay. Thank you very much for your help. Okay, Marauder girl. Tay. Just imagine for a second that you weren’t dropped on your head as a baby, and as a result, today, you do in fact like ice cream. Okay? Imagination. Great. So imagine that your favorite flavah of ice cream is maple walnut. Weiahd flavah, but, alright, it’s your favorite, okay? Okay. Now, tell me that you hate maple walnut ice cream. Doesn’t make sense, right? Gobbledy gook. Capeesh?”
“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”
“You can’t hate your favorite flavah of ice cream.”
“I told you, I don’t even like ice cream.”
“Holy shit, someone get this kid some Henry Wadsworth Longfellow so she can learn what a goddamn metaphoah is.”
“You can’t hate your family because your family is the people that you love the most,” Lex interjects. “At least, I think that’s what he’s getting at.”
Cannon’s head swings up and down. “Thank you, that’s the spice. Family’s the people you wanna hang out with all the time. The people where everyone can make fun of everyone and it’s all good.” He glances down at the spot on his neck where his golden locket should be. “The people who feel like they’ah theah, even when they’ah not.”
Again, the room is quiet. Tay doesn’t really know how to respond to that. Honestly, she doesn’t want to say anything. She just wants to curl up into the tiniest ball on her little bed and disappear. She doesn’t want to be with these people. She doesn’t want to be with anyone. She wishes that there was someone who she did want to be with, someone who could help her to feel less shitty. She wants to be nowhere. As far away from everything and everyone as she can possibly be. She squeezes her eyes shut, hoping that when she opens them, she’ll wake up from the nightmare she’s lived through for the past 20 years. When she opens them, though, she’s still surrounded by three blank walls and an iron door.
Suddenly, the creak of the main door opening cuts through the silence. Everyone’s eyes are on the man strutting through the doorway. “Good evening, everyone,” Diaz says with a smile. “Hello? Anyone? Bueller? Hah, wow, not a talkative crowd tonight, are we? This morning you all couldn’t shut up. How bout you, pizza boy? Not even you? Damn, surely the guy who put Daisy Montego in the ICU has something to say.”
“Get bent, prick. We’ah not in the mood.”
“Interesting. Who’s ‘we’? The four of you? What, are you all in this together somehow? Well, at least the three of you. Rach, I know you couldn’t possibly be part of any plan that involves being sober.”
Rach flips the bird through her cell bars. “Fuck off, Diaz.”
Diaz grips his chest with his hand. “Ooh, ow, my heart. So cruel. Being insulted by the most pathetic person in Camp Trin, I almost give a shit. Oh, but I don’t. You and all the rest of the filth that hangs out in that bar, you’re all a very special breed of useless. But I won’t harp on it. I’m a little tired, to be honest. Because of whatever little plan it is that you three were concocting out there, I had to spend all day looking through every gutter and shit can in town to see if any other Marauders were crawling in the woodwork.”
Lex raises a finger in protest. “Um, actually, sir, you see, I’m not with those two. And, they’re definitely not with each other. None of us are here together. Also, I’m the prince, as I think I may have mentioned earlier. I shouldn’t be here.”
Tay smirks. “You couldn’t tell I was a Marauder when I was staring you in the face. What makes you think you’re smart enough to find any others?”
Diaz frowns. “What did you just say to me?”
“I said that I’m the prince and I’m not--”
“I said that you’re just too stupid. Which is kind of sad, really, because you probably have the easiest job in the world. Prison guard? Town watch? Guess you didn’t do so well in school, huh?”
“You’d better shut the fuck up right now.”
“As the literal prince, I’d like to--”
“So tell me then, Mr. Hot Shot Guard, how many of my clanswomen did you find hiding in town? Let me guess. Zero?”
“Fuck you, brat.”
“Okay, Tay, as your prince, I think you should maybe calm down--”
“You wouldn’t recognize a Marauder if she was clawing you in the face. Oh, wait.”
“You little shit.”
“Tay, kid, you’ah actin’ crazy.”
“Seriously, Tay, give it a rest.”
“Come over here and I’ll scratch up the other side of your face. Bitch.”
“That’s it--” Diaz puts his face right up against the bars and starts to sniff up a big ball of phlegm in the back of his throat. He cocks it in the chamber and gets ready to fire, but he never gets the chance. Tay doesn’t waste a breath. In a heartbeat, she’s up against the bars as well. She’s so fast that Diaz doesn’t even know what’s happening until it’s too late. Her hands are on his shirt collar, yanking him hard against the cell door, smushing his face right up between the bars. His face is bright red. He yanks backwards, trying to break her grip. It’s working. Tay can feel the fabric of his shirt starting to pull away. He’ll be free in a second or two. If she’s gonna do it, she has to do it. Now.
And so, she does. She winds her head backwards, then launches her forehead right into Diaz’s face. Immediately when she does, she feels the tension in her hands fall away. His body doesn’t quite go limp, but it’s as if someone hit the reset button on a computer. He flails weakly for a moment, trying to regain control over himself. He can barely stand up straight. Tay brings her head back to assess the damage. Diaz’s nose isn’t just broken, it’s shattered. Blood pours from his nose and mouth. Teeth are on the floor. Her forehead hurts, but it probably hurts a hell of a lot less than Diaz’s everything. He tries to say something, but the words are mud in his mouth. Tay doesn’t waste another second. She tightens her grip on him, winds her head back a second time, then headbutts him again. After this one, there’s nothing left. Diaz crumples to the ground.
Dead.