Joule's Guile/narrative

Nobody wants to be a chicken but still, after Chester cuts open the fence, no one wants to go through. We’re all staring at one another: Chester with his wire cutters, his sis Chatter with her mouth X-taped shut ‘cause she talks too much, SBD and Petey oofing under the anchor, Bell the only one of us with a weapon. Only Joule, hunkered down like a frog, is looking at the compound a short sprint away.

“We all know the meeting spot yeah?”

Just like that, we’re running, maybe just ‘cause she didn’t give us time to think about it. We’re running with red puffy cheeks through the dark yard, running like we’d stole from the Carnies. Can’t see anything in the moonless night, but we know the spot, and we land there at the door marked HEAD in an unruly pile, kicking and grunting trying to get inside first.

Joule’s standing on SBD's back, wiggling at the grate to the air ducts with a screwdriver when Chester grunts. “Where’s Chatter?”

We all peek out the door just in time to see the floodlights snap on, and Chatter right in the middle of all that light, yanking at the knob to the wrong door. It’s not even seconds before she’s got guards all over her, barking in her taped-up face.

“She’s gonna squeal,” whines SBD.

“Sure she is,” whispers Joule. “And I told her we were going a whole other direction, so that oughta buy us a few minutes. Boost me up!”

Sure enough, one guard holds onto Chatter while the rest of them go racing off away in the other direction.

“Hurry!” whispers Bell, stuffing her weapon in her pants, and Petey boosts her into the duct.