Escape

by R J Dent

This is it! This is finally it!

          The cell door rattles then creaks open.

          My heart pounds in my chest.

          “Okay, Burton,” the guard says tersely. “Shower time.”

          I pick up my wash-bag and towel and walk past the unsuspecting guard, out into the corridor.

          If he sees the book I’m finished! I’ll never get out of here!

          As I walk along the corridor towards the washroom – the guard the regulation one metre behind me – I make sure that the towel is hanging naturally over my arm. I can’t afford to make any mistakes today. The stakes are way too high.

          I’ve been here for ten years. Five years too long. During that time I have planned meticulously, devising and then rejecting several unsuitable plans of escape. Then, three months ago, quite by accident, I found a way to escape. This is why I have a book under my arm, covered by a towel.

          I reach the washroom door and stand to one side as the guard unlocks it.

          “Ten minutes,” he grunts, as he pushes the door open.

          I nod, because I’m not allowed to speak. Then I enter the gleaming washroom. The door swings shut behind me. I now have ten minutes of privacy. Ten minutes in which to escape.

          I run to the shower and turn the water on, not because I’m in a rush to get clean, but because I need the sound of running water to cover the sounds of my activities. I put the wash-bag and the towel-wrapped book on the floor and climb up onto a washbasin. Each of the high windows is covered with strong wire mesh. Part of my plan involves the removal of one of these window coverings.

          I push my fingers between the mesh and pull the covering free. This is not an amazing feat, due to incredible physical strength, but simply the result of the weeks I have spent patiently bending and snapping the outer strands of wire, then wrapping the broken ends back together again, to make it appear that the mesh had not been tampered with.