“Let’s just say he’s a friend who’s good at picking up the pieces.”
She thought about that for a moment and tried not to let it frighten her. “We’re not going to need anyone to pick up the pieces because we’re not going to get caught.”
“That’s the spirit.”
“I mean it, Zack. We can be in and out in twenty minutes—”
“If some corrections officer walks in on us with a shotgun, it’s over,” he said angrily.
Emily stared at him, aware that her pulse was up, that she was frightened and uncertain and sud denly having second thoughts about what they were about to do.
“I made that call because if we don’t get out of there tonight, I don’t want Underwood or Carpenter or anyone else getting away with our murders.”
A queasy shudder moved through her. “You don’t think we’re going to make it out.”
“I think we’re bloody insane,” he said and rammed the Jeep into gear.
TWENTY MINUTES LATER, Emily slid out of the Jeep into knee-deep snow. They had parked on a narrow back road a couple of miles from the prison. “Why are we stopping here?”
“Unless you want to tango with the perimeter patrol guards, we cover the last two miles on foot,” he said.
Emily had been scared plenty of times in her life. Having spent the last three years working as a corrections officer in a high-security prison, she’d learned to work through her fears. Staring down at the lights of the prison in the valley below, she’d never been scared like this before. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going to go wrong. She couldn’t discuss it with Zack because she knew there was nothing he’d like better than to turn around and leave if only to keep her out of the line of fire. That was the one thing she could not allow.
“We approach from the south,” he was saying.
Emily looked over at him. Even in the darkness she could see that his expression was grim. He was staring at her, his mouth pulled into a thin line, his jaws clenched tight.
“We use the trees for cover,” she managed.
“I cut the fence in the northwest corner.”
“That’s right beneath the guard tower—”
“Where they can’t see us,” he cut in.
“But how are we going to get from the guard tower to the main building?”
He looked up at the sky. “I believe Mother Nature is going to give us a hand.”
Emily blinked, not understanding. Then it dawned on her that it was snowing. He was planning to use the snowfall as cover.
“How do you know the snow is going to continue?” she asked.
“I don’t.” He stared at her for an instant. “I’d feel a hell of a lot better about this if you stayed here with the Jeep.”
She didn’t miss the worry carved into his every feature. Emily hated being responsible for it, but there was no way she could sit this out and let him go in alone. “I’m going in with you,” she said.
His jaw flexed, and he looked quickly over his shoulder. “In that case, we’d better get going.”
Zack set a swift pace, and even though Emily was in top physical condition, she had a difficult time keeping up with him. He took her down a steep ravine, through a forest of sapling ponderosa pines, a frozen creek and at last to the edge of the open meadow where the prison had been built.
In a matter of minutes he had the coil of concertina wire cut. “We’re going to sprint along the line of trees that runs along the driveway,” he said. “From there we take cover beneath the tower. No more talking. Follow my hand signals from here on out. Got it?”
Emily nodded, but she could feel her entire body vibrating with a combination of adrenaline and fear and the daunting knowledge that if either of them made a mistake now, it would cost them their lives.
“Let’s go.”
The snow was falling heavily as they sprinted alongside the row of trees. Emily ran as fast as she could, staying slightly behind Zack, conscious that he kept himself squarely between her and the guard tower fifty yards away.
They reached the tower without incident. The base of the tower was cinder block. A blue steel door led to the interior and, she assumed, a stairwell that led to the observation deck. Taking her hand, Zack led her to the north side of the building—away from the door—and pressed her to the cinder block. “So far, so good,” he whispered, looking over his shoulder.
Emily was about to push off when he turned to her. His eyes latched onto hers and held. Within their depths she saw all the same emotions that had been raging through her own mind in the last minutes. Fear of discovery. Worry for someone she cared for deeply.