Michael Vey: Prisoner of Cell 25

Chapter 35: Breaking into Prison

We arrived in Pasadena a little after noon. I was asleep in the backseat of the Camaro, lying across Ostin. I woke when we stopped for gas and to change drivers. Wade's eyes were bloodshot and he looked like he was about to pass out. He stumbled into the gas station to use the bathroom.

"Where are we?" I asked Jack.

"We're in Pasadena," he said. "I need the school's address."

"I've got it." I handed Jack the brochure, then got out of the car and stretched. The California air was moist and warm and, in spite of my worries, it felt good. I looked in the back window and saw that Ostin was still snoring, so I went inside the gas station. I got two bottles of strawberry-flavored milk and a box of doughnuts. I knew Ostin would be hungry when he awoke.

By the time I returned to the car Wade had climbed in the back and already fallen asleep. I sat in the front.

"Wade was pretty tired," I said to Jack.

"Yeah, he was. We would have been here sooner but he stopped in Lancaster and slept for four hours." Jack started the car. "Are you ready?"

I was blinking pretty hard. "No. Probably never will be. Let's go."

Jack smiled. "Nice."

Pasadena was lush and green with palm trees everywhere. I was eight when my mother and I moved from California, and I hadn't been back since. The city seemed foreign to me.

"Take Colorado Boulevard to South Allen," I said. "Then turn right."

Jack followed my directions and in a few minutes we were on Allen Avenue. "That's the place," I said. "It looks just like the picture. Except for the prison fence."

Jack parked the car at a gas station about a half block from the school. "Wade, wake up," he said.

"Who . . ."

"We're here."

Ostin woke as well and started searching for his glasses. He had fallen asleep wearing them, and I had picked them up off the car floor.

"Here you go," I said, handing them to him.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"The school," I said.

Ostin looked out at the building. "That's a school?"

"Looks more like a prison than a school," Wade said groggily.

"How are we going to get inside?" Ostin asked. "The fence is at least twelve feet high and there's barbed wire."

"And the entrance is guarded," Wade added.

"Getting in is not going to be easy," Ostin said. I think he meant "possible" instead of "easy."

Jack shook his head. "He's right, man. What are you going to do?"

I looked out at the building for a few more moments, then I sighed. "Well, it's not your problem. You got us here." I reached into my pocket and took out the rest of the money. "Here's the rest."

Jack took it without counting. "Thanks. Good luck."

"C'mon, Ostin," I said.

As we were climbing out of the car, Jack said, "Look."

I turned back toward the building. A white food-service truck was passing through the gate. "Get back inside, I have an idea."

We climbed back in and Jack started up the Camaro.

"What's your idea?" I asked.

He put on his sunglasses, then pulled out into the street. "We're going to borrow that van."