Poisoned Lips

17: Escape [p3]

Freyja had her eyes closed, feeling nothing but pain. She was sprawled on the floor, bits of granite pressed against her skin. Granite?

The air smelled of smoke. She scrunched her nose, then her eyebrows. Her bed was hard. Why?

She forced her heavy eyelids open. Her vision was blurry. As it cleared, she realized that she was in a cell. A crumpled one. The door was barely on its hinges. It swayed and creaked as a light breeze moved through. Then, she remembered: the cure, Lydia, prison, escape. She should be escaping!

Freyja struggled to her feet. The world tilted, and she fell against the wall. Groaning, she steadied herself and tried to walk. Freyja could barely hear anything with the ringing in her ears. She moved to the door slowly, and as she set foot in the hallway, she stopped breathing. 

There was blood on the walls, decapitated human parts, charred flesh, bits of uniforms, burnt faces, empty eyes. Her stomach churned. Bile rose to her throat. She turned around and vomited. With her heart and head pounding, she ran away from this atrocious hallway.

"Death to non-magis!" The  crazed prisoners chanted. As she ran, their claps thundered.

Freyja followed the breeze, not knowing why. But it led her to the veranda where she’d planted the bombs.

“Oh...Oh my…” Freyja breathed.

There, right in front of her, was a gaping hole in the wall. She could see everything. The prison was in complete isolation. It was constructed in the middle of a desert, practically making everyone and anyone leaving or entering the prison, vulnerable. However, in the far distance, she could see villages. 

Freyja took a couple of steps closer to the hole. The sun was hidden behind the clouds, but the light was bright enough to make her snap her eyes shut. How long had it been before she smelled fresh air? How long had it been since she felt a breeze on her skin? Or heard the sounds of birds? Or seen the sky?

Freyja was filled with the sudden feeling of eleutheromania. Freedom was calling to her.

Slowly removing her hands from her face, she advanced to the hole. She poked her head out and breathed deeply. Fresh spring air. It was like her lungs recognized the difference between prison air and fresh air because she suddenly felt lighter and her breaths came in easier.

She looked below her. 

A smile graced her dirty face. There was an opportunity below her, and she would seize it. 

On the ground, two guards escorted horses from the stable and tied them to a pole. Then, they disappeared into the stable. Seconds later, they came out with merchandise wagons and attached them to the horses. 

“In five minutes, we ride out!” Shouted the first guard. They were messengers going to inform the king of the situation.

The wagons would be her escape opportunity. She’d hide in them, cover herself with the brown sack, and escape. But she needed to scale down the wall quickly. Although her ears still rang, it had reduced and was merely just an inconvenience she could ignore.

In five minutes, Freyja would be on her way out of this prison. Before she stepped out of the hole, she threw a guilty glance at the melted vent. What other choice did she have? 

She stepped out onto the ledge of the building. Her heartbeat quickened. Green scandent vines grew along the walls of the prison. Freyja grabbed one and tugged. They were solid. Pressing her back against the wall, she moved to the right, checking for a long enough vine.

A big boom resounded. She lost her footing. Luckily, she gripped a vine and steadied herself. The boom echoed again. It came from the sky.

Freyja looked up, seeing bursts of colors in the sky.