Firethorn (Discarded Heroes) by Ronie Kendig

he never would.
    Deviating her course, she jumped onto a chair, then the table without missing a beat. She launched herself at the man, her right foot thrust forward. He whirled toward her, his gun coming up seconds too late. Her booted foot collided with his face. He whipped around.
    She rolled out of the maneuver and came up running, then shoved through the kitchen door and aimed for a serving tower. Skidding up behind one, she grabbed both sides. A strong push sent it spinning toward the door—
thud!
    Griffin maneuvered another into position. The temporary barricade would buy them desperately needed time. She sprinted toward the back door. From inside her shirt, she peeled away a thin layer of latex, wrapped it to her finger and pressed it against the coded box. A row of round red lights flashed back and forth, then blinked green.
Click!
    Outside, she led him to the food van. They darted inside. She beelined past the pallets of food stuff, careful not to touch them and leave a DNA trail for the dogs. At the back, she squatted and palmed a panel. Griffin joined her, but she waved him back a step as she applied subtle pressure to the metal. At her feet—right where he’d been standing—the raised indentions glowed. She stroked one left, then another left, then one right. The back wall receded.
    Kazi motioned Griffin into the narrow void, wanting to laugh at the way his shoulder blades touched the back and his pectorals brushed the front of the false wall. His face contorted. Was the big lug claustrophobic?
    She moved in the cramped space, nudging him down a couple of inches. The door flashed closed. Darkness devoured them. Using her nails, she scraped the sticky oxygen mask from her mouth and nose. Had Griffin moved yet? That pouch would run out soon.
    Unable to risk telling him to remove it, she reached up, her cool fingers tracking over his face. Smooth…stubble. There, the edge of the tape. She pried it back.
    He caught her hand, making her spasm. The soft ripping of the tape drifted to her.
    The sound of water spilling over the truck told her the plan was on schedule. Soon shouts reverberated around them. Dogs barked. The delivery truck rocked as the shouts seemed to devour the interior. The guards were inside, searching.
    “Find anything?”
    “Not a thing.”
    “Well, they came through the cafeteria. Larry’s unconscious and the back door was open.”
    “They aren’t here. Check for yourself, man.”
    “Didn’t the dogs catch a scent?”
    “Yeah, the scent of ground beef, I think. Stupid dogs.”
    “Yeah, and you’re spoiling it,” a guy complained. “That ain’t coming out of my pay. Now, do you want to take the truck apart, or can I get going before I’m fired for being late with spoiled food?”
    “Nobody’s leaving. We have an escaped prisoner.”
    “Okay, guess I’ll have to call my boss and explain about the ruined food.”
    “You sure you checked inside?”
    “For cryin’ out loud. Check yourself.”
    The bed rocked again, then shifted. Loud thuds boomed through the small space. Feet drew closer…closer.
    Bang! Bang!
    As the man knocked on the metal, clearly testing it for signs of weakness, Kazi remained calm. The false wall should give off a solid thud that matched everywhere else in the truck. But was
should
good enough?
    “All right.”
    “I’m clear?”
    “Yeah. Go on.”
    Kazi closed her eyes, listening as the driver climbed behind the wheel. Vibrations tickled her feet as the engine rumbled to life. It lurched forward—which pitched them toward the false wall. Or, at least it pitched
her.
Griffin was soundly wedged.
    As the chassis lumbered onto the main road and gained speed, she relaxed finally. “In an hour, we’ll rendezvous with a Cessna. We’ll fly to the Caribbean—“

     
    “Hold up!” Although he’d removed the strip of what felt like duct tape, Griffin still couldn’t breathe any easier. Why on God’s green earth had he just escaped a maximum security