Susan Prison — Break

In the back of the supply closet on B-Block, there was a grate covering an old coal disposal shaft. It had been welded shut in the eighties, but Susan had spent six months treating the weld with a mixture of rust accelerants she’d brewed from cleaning supplies and toilet bowl cleaner. The metal was brittle as a dry leaf.

Susan had spent four years mapping the prison's vulnerabilities. The warden’s office was the only room in the block with a window that faced the outer yard, but it was alarmed. The laundry truck was checked by dogs. The kitchen had a service door, but it was heavy steel. susan prison break

Lights blazed to life on the prison walls behind them. Sirens wailed, piercing the night. In the back of the supply closet on

The weld snapped with a sound like a gunshot in the quiet hallway. They froze. No alarms. No shouting. Susan pried the grate open. The shaft was narrow, smelling of damp earth and old soot. Susan had spent four years mapping the prison's

They moved silently to the supply closet. Susan’s heart hammered against her ribs, a rhythm of adrenaline and fear. She reached the grate. With a heavy wrench stolen from the maintenance cart, she struck the corner.