Michael Vey: The Prisoner of Cell 25 (Book 1)

In the darkness of the cell, Ian looked like a ghost, the pale glow of his skin rising a half foot taller than Ostin. He stood with his arms crossed at his chest, staring down at Ostin. “That’s the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard.”

“Keep your voice down,” Ostin said. “They’ll hear us.”

“You don’t tell me what to do. In here, I’m in charge.”

“You’re not in charge of me.”

“Yes, I am. This is my turf.”

“No, you’re not my boss.”

“Are you dissing me?”

“I’ll diss you if I want. I’m not afraid of you, bat boy.”

Ian got in Ostin’s face. “What did you call me?”

“You two knock it off,” Taylor said. “He was just trying to help.”

“Keep out of it,” McKenna said.

There was an audible whirr as three of the five video cameras panned across the room.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Taylor said. “I’ll fry your brain.”

“Try it,” McKenna said, her skin beginning to brighten. “I’ll cook you.”

“You’ll never get a chance, lightbulb.”

“Will you all stop it?” Abigail said. “It’s bad enough we have them hating us.”

Ian growled, “So, chunky soup here is dissing me for being blind?”

“Chunky soup?” Ostin said, “Take it back.”

Ian uncrossed his arms. “Make me.”

“I will.”

“I’d like to see you try, doughboy. The only exercise you get is unwrapping Twinkies. I’ll roll you out like pizza dough.”

“You’re going to pay for that.”

“Ooh, scary,” Ian said.

Ostin rushed at him and knocked him over by the door. Ian groaned as he hit the ground.

“What the… McKenna!” Ian shouted. “Taylor’s doing something to me. She’s messing with my brain.”

A harsh voice came over the speaker system. “Occupants of Cell B, stop what you’re doing, immediately.”

Ian began screaming. “Abi, McKenna, stop the new girl! Stop her.”

“That does it,” McKenna said. “You’re going to pay.”

“Bring it on, Day-Glo,” Taylor said. “I can take both of you.”

The girls surrounded Taylor. Ian and Ostin were locked in combat when the door clicked and opened. Two guards ran into the room.

“Now!” Ostin said.

McKenna suddenly burst into a brilliant light, temporarily blinding the guards. Taylor turned and focused on the two men as Ian charged at them, knocking them both over. Abigail and McKenna quickly jumped on the men, pulling their Mace from their belts and spraying them in the face with it. Taylor kept rebooting them over and over and the men flailed about confused and gasping from the Mace.

“Ostin,” Ian said, “come help me.” They rolled the first guard over and handcuffed his hands behind his back, then dragged him inside; next they handcuffed and dragged in the second one and stuffed both of their mouths with toilet paper. Ostin pulled their magnetic keys from their pockets.

“Got the keys?” Ian asked.

Ostin held them up. “Got ’em.”

“Let’s go,” Ian said.

“Give us some light, McKenna,” Ostin said.

“On it.”

The four of them followed Ian out into the hallway, pulling the cell door shut behind them.

“Which way?” Ostin asked.

“The guards came from this direction,” Ian said.

“How can you tell?” Taylor asked.

“I’m an electric hound dog,” Ian said. “People leave electronic imprints when they move.”

They ran down the hall toward a service elevator. “Oh, oh,” Ian said. “They’re coming.” Suddenly an alarm went off.

“Monkey butts,” Ostin said.

“Here, give me the key.” Ian opened the elevator and they all rushed in.

“Go to the second floor. That’s the administration level. They won’t expect that.”

Taylor hit the button. The door shut and the elevator began to move. The elevator hit the second floor and paused but the door didn’t open. Suddenly it began moving up again.

“What’s it doing?” Abigail asked.

“I don’t think we’re controlling it anymore,” Ostin said.

The elevator climbed all the way to the fourth floor and froze. Ian’s head dropped. “We’re dead.”

“What do you see?” Taylor asked.

“Trouble,” Ian said.

The door opened. There were at least fifteen guards standing in front of them with guns drawn. “On your knees!” one shouted. “And put your hands behind your head.”

“Taylor?” Ostin asked.

Taylor squinted. “There’re too many of them.”

Ian sighed and knelt down. The rest followed.

“You are smart,” Ian said to Ostin. “That’s the closest to freedom anyone here has ever got.”

Ostin sighed. “Close only counts in horseshoes and nuclear weapons.”