Prison Break

“James, they gonna be real mad at us if they catch us.”

“Then make sure you keep looking for them so I can dig. I can’t dig too fast with this spoon.”

Ever since he arrived, James had been looking for a way out. He tried to climb over the fence, but the barbed wire kept him locked inside. James and his crew longed for the freedom of life on the other side of the fence. He thought he had the perfect plan. He swiped a spoon from the cafeteria, and for the last few days had spent his free time digging a small hole under a secluded part of the fence while T and Wilson kept watch. 

Today was going to be the day. He could feel it.

He didn’t know what the outside world held for him, but that wasn’t going to stop him.

He had cleared enough room to barely squeeze his frame through when T yelled over to him, “James, quick! He’s coming!”

James tried feverishly to pull himself the rest of the way through the tunnel, but his pantleg became entangled in the chainlink. The rest of his crew ran. The guard grabbed hold of James’ leg and yanked him back through the fencing and lifted him up by his ankle.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, kid? You wanna be ripped to shreds? You’re coming with me.”

He then led James across Runway 10 and back towards the terminal.

Spanked

“There’s one more thing.”

Bored heads looked up around the meeting hall at the center of the two concourses. Once it had been an airport-themed playground, wasted space at the airport to teach children about the wonders of flight through space-filling models. Now, it was the only place big enough to hold full-zone meetings indoors that wasn’t a cargo bay. At least there were some chairs.

“Sara Wilson, Tyresha Wilkins, and James Bigsby, ages 8, 9, and 10, all were caught Thursday by patrolling members of Corpse Corps trying to dig under the fence in order to leave the zone un-escorted. Their parents will now bring them to the front of the hall for their spankings before we adjourn.”

A murmur was heard around the hall. It got louder as children’s wails were heard from three different points in the hall. No one moved.

A voice rang out over the hall. “You can’t do this!”

“Mister Schick, of Maintenance, isn’t it? Sorry, Mister Schick. This one isn’t open for discussion.”

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