Rebel planned his escape, but then, all inmates dreamed of freedom.
|Rebel took out his make-shift toolbox and began to mix the ingredients together. A slow fuse and a diversion he thought would seal his ultimate escape if he was detected. He had to trust Manny to light it.
“You understand don’t you? Do not light this unless you hear the escape sirens. Otherwise just get rid of it. Got it?”
“Yeah, I got it,” Manny sneered.
“You sure you don’t want to come with me?”
“I’m sure. I’ve only got twelve more months and I’ll be out on parole. Good luck to you, Rebel.”
Rebel crawled through the last part of his cramped tunnel. He emerged with several scrapes that stung in the night fog. The limited visibility provided great cover. Three spotlights scanned the courtyard. After eight years in prison, he could taste freedom, but only if he could get beyond the razor wire and cross the half mile field without leaving a clue.
Rebel judged the distance to the wire and the elapsed time for the spotlights. He took out his file. 126 seconds and then it would shine again. He worked like a bandit, then ducked back into darkness. He figured three more times and he’d have it cut.
He ran to the wire and began cutting again. A fireball erupted from the warden’s quarters – he watched it explode. The sirens wailed and the spotlights found him within seconds. He pushed his hands in the air, but the guards riddled him with bullets.
Rebel lay writhing in pain and dying.
“There he is!” A guard shouted. “He’s the one Manny said planted the bomb.”
The guard's radio squawked, “We got the warden out in time. He wants to see Manny.”
"The District Attorney will have to uphold the bargain.”
“Yeah, Manny should get released tomorrow."
Flash Fiction Must contain: Toolbox, Clue, Explode