A soft bump struck against the cafeteria air vent. Eli plunged her hand inside and found herself holding a bun, almost black from the dust and dirt in the vent. A bun. Was this MW’s message? Hurry the bun up? Don’t bun it up?

Eli chuckled. For sure not. She opened the bun, and her face broke into a smile as she trailed the words on the note. She curled it, throwin’ it over her shoulder. Then, she took a bite off the bun, as she neared the cafeteria table.

Five minutes, huh? That should be easy peasy. Most of ’em prisoners that stayed here sat by the tables, laughin’ at each other’s lame jokes or braggin’ about their crimes. ‘Cept if they had killed somebody. No one ever bragged ’bout that.

Eli drew her eyes along each of their faces. Most of ’em were like Chet. Broad bodies, scars, and stitches all over their faces. But Chet wasn’t here. He’d got to do his business. Eli thought Chet would wanna see a riot go down the most out of everyone here. He should’ve been here by now. What was the holdup?

Eli yawned. How much longer was it gonna be? It had been five minutes now. Or one. But Eli didn’t care anymore.

She jumped onto the table. “Hey, hey!”

The voices died down, and everyone’s eyes were glued to her. There had to be at least three hundred dudes scattered across the five refectory tables.

“What came first? The prisoner or the jail?”

If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

Mumbling rose across the area.

“The prisoner!” Eli said. “‘Cuz what’s the point of a jail without any prisoners?”

Someone across the table screamed. “I-I don’t wanna go to prison!” Then, he swung a punch at the person next to him.

That was all it took for this place to turn into a boxin’ arena. Roars soared to the ceilin’, everyone flingin’ a fist to the nearest person. Someone ripped their shirt off while shouting. Another banged his head against the table. Oh, yeah, that was the I-don’t-wanna-go-to-prison dude. A brawny dude picked him up and threw him across the cafeteria.

Eli’s skin tightened from beaming. This was the best day of her life. Now, all she’d got to do was wait for Milan to show up.

But he never did. Instead, the lights snapped off, one after one, until the only light radiated from the sun through the rectangular windows.

Voices drowned to a soft mumbling. Everyone dropped whatever they held in their hands — someone else’s collar, hair, or body.

Eli bit her lower lip. It had been all goin’ so smoothly. Did MW do this? Did somethin’ happen to him? Eli had got to do somethin’ fast before their plan was ruined.

“The power’s off!” Eli said, throwing her arms ‘round in a desperate attempt to gather everyone’s attention. “Alarms, off. Doors, unlocked. We can break out!” She had no idea if it was true. But she had to say somethin’.

Everyone stared at her, dumbfounded.

“Riot!” Someone yelled across the cafeteria. “Riot! Riot! Riot!”

Soon, everyone followed, screamin’: “Riot,” in chorus. They sprinted toward the corridor, narrowin’ down the exit and shoved everyone and everythin’ out of their way.

Eli found herself in the crowd, pushin’ her way to freedom.