The Secret of Lions by Scott Blade

cards, soda bottles, and old
soup cans. The guards were not the cleanest members of the prison
staff, but no one complained.
    Heinrik ran out of the lounge, passing
another guard who headed toward the yard. On his way out, he turned
to Heinrik and said, “Sir. Sir. It’s a prison break.”
    Heinrik followed him to the yard. No one was
out there. In the distance, Heinrik observed several birds
scattering from their perches. The approaching guards startled
them. A host of sparrows flew off into completely different
directions. Some of the birds became confused by the different
flight patterns. They scattered everywhere. Many of them readjusted
their flight paths in order to follow their brethren. It was
chaos.
    A good number of the day crew had not yet
arrived and many of the night crew had already left, leaving few
guards to recover the loose prisoners.
    The other guard turned toward him and said,
“Follow me into cell block five. I think that’s where we are
needed. I heard one of the cleaning guys mention something about
block five.”
    Five is Hitler’s cell block, Heinrik
thought.
    The majority of inmates of cell block five
were mental patients. They were dangerous criminals; some were
armed robbers, rapists, murders, but most were psychotic. Some had
even lost their grip on reality. Some of these prisoners did not
believe that they were even in prison. Instead, they believed that
they were working a farm or still in the army in the trenches
fighting the war.
    One believed he was a POW in a British
prison camp during the Great War, never mind that none of the
guards spoke English. Heinrik and his fellow guards often chuckled
at his expense.
    Heinrik followed his comrade who ran toward
a building opposite from the guards’ entrance. He lost track of the
other guard for a moment. The guard disappeared into an open
doorway. When Heinrik followed, he saw a shadow in the corner of
his eye. It was the other guard. He quickly disappeared around the
opposite corner. Heinrik picked up his pace and chased after him,
trying desperately to keep up.
    Before Heinrik could realize what the sound
was, the guard shrieked. His inhuman scream echoed in Heinrik’s
ears. He gurgled and gagged as if he were submerged underwater.
    Heinrik turned the corner to find a horrible
scene. Three prisoners stood around the screaming guard. One of
them held the guard by pulling both of his arms back in an
inescapable death-lock. He stabbed a shiv into the back of the
man’s neck. Heinrik watched as a rusted blade pierced from out of
the guard’s Adam’s apple.
    Blood splattered, soaking the collar of his
shirt in a wet, crimson color. The guard gyrated and squirmed
violently, trying to escape with his life; instead, he weakened
himself and sped up his death. Still, he fought, kicking his legs
up in the air. Within moments of struggling with his attackers for
his life, he was dead. The free prisoners dropped the corpse and
turned their focus to Heinrik.
    “Come here, guard, and join your friend,”
one of the prisoners said. He gestured at Heinrik with the
shiv.
    Heinrik froze.
    One of the prisoners knelt down beside the
dead guard and picked up his gun. He cocked it and aimed it toward
Heinrik. The young, inexperienced guard Heinrik had seen out at the
guards’ lounge had suddenly entered from behind. The young guard
entered so fast that he startled the prisoners.
    The gun went off. The prisoner shot him,
firing three times. The bullets entered into his chest and exited
through his back. The first bullet splintered into a cell door on
the opposite side of the corridor. The other ricocheted off the
concrete wall and shattered the lantern above.
    At that moment, Heinrik ran down the hall.
He narrowly escaped his attackers. They chased close behind him.
Each time his foot hit the ground, dust shot up behind Heinrik.
    “Stop, guard,” one prisoner called out.
    The floor down the corridor was wet. Heinrik
slipped and hit the ground hard. Dazed for