Several of them stared up at the ceiling vent in wonder and confusion.

“How the heck did she even…”

A muttered, partial question had them all looking up again. It was never meant to be reachable. There was a reason the ceilings were so high. Part of it was for situations like this. Only... nobody was supposed to be able to reach the vent. Normally, with a ladder, it took several minutes to get it open.

“She jumped,” one of them remarked plainly, as if it were obvious. They had glanced to the side, noticed the faint footprint on the wall, the bit of red smeared on the ceiling and vent cover, the collection of drops right under where it had been hooked shut. Pressing a button on their communicator, they continued to speak calmly about an absurd situation, where just one person was causing such havoc.

“Snipers. Eyes open. Shoot on sight. Focus on the north end of the building.”

Several of them glanced among one another, confused. They were closer to the southern exit; wouldn’t she escape out the closer side?

A reply came through. Hesitant.

“But sir, about our supply of bullets…”

“Use them all.”

“Sir?!”

It wasn’t just his communicator that shouted out with that immediate response. Several of the others around him were staring, gaping at that command from a senior officer.

He set his eyes on the noisiest of the group around himself and glared hard enough to turn them cowardly in on themselves, their shoulders hunching and face drooping to look at the floor. The rest followed suit.

“Eliminate her before she can truly escape.” He said loudly and clearly for everyone in the ensuing silence. “All other Facilities were notified of this. Shoot. On. Sight.”

“We copy.”

Someone from the back cautiously stepped toward the officer who was preparing to turn and leave.

“Sir... Officer Cade… your opinion?” Exposing their own nerves, came their voice, almost squeaky.

Cade turned to them indifferently.

“On?”

“How did she…” Their gaze lifted as they pointed to the hole above them. It was unfathomable, even to those with heightened abilities. The ceiling itself was fifteen feet high, but to be able to unlatch that vent with nothing to hold onto up there? It wasn’t just nearly impossible. It simply was.

Wasn’t it?

Cade, barely interested, stated the bare minimum of an explanation.

“Run.” He poked the faintest tread from half of her shoe on the wall. “Launch.” His hand swung through the air to the vent. “Unlatch vent while holding onto it.” And then to the opening it left behind. “Swing up and in.”

A more detailed account would’ve brought the same expressions onto their faces. Pure horror. Muttered comments of disbelief filled the air of the hallway.

“Unbelievable.”

“I could if it was twelve. Three more feet? Uh-uh.”

“That’s fifteen feet…”

“Unlatch while…”

“But the vent doesn’t have any handholds!” one of them shouted, gesturing wildly toward the swinging screen they couldn’t even reach the end of if they stood on their toes.

“Do you think she’d need one? She’s a Ghost.”

It was the last Cade had to say on the matter as he walked away. He’d known Sarah for a while. Not as a friend or comrade. But he’d observed enough from a distance. She wouldn’t have tried to do it if she knew she couldn’t get it done.

To him, it was just a matter of which direction she took once inside the vents. Unfortunately for her, he knew something of the ventilation systems. This one only led north. There was no southern, eastern, or western exit once inside.

Pulling a different device from his pocket, he sent in a request to headquarters as he made his way to the other end of the building, expecting a bluff of some kind by her entering the vent that only led one direction.

She had to have known, right?

He used his communicator to call the others, making sure eyes were on the outside of the north side. Everyone needed to be prepared.

After the hallway of people dispersed their separate ways, Sarah, having waited around the first corner inside the ventilation system in the ceiling the whole time, now slid her way back to the opening. One peek out and then she dropped down to the floor quietly.

Officer Cade…

Sarah had taken notice, sure, of the guards and officers residing in Amest. Cade only said the necessary things, usually never even offering friendly greetings to anyone. All formal, with a perfect track record.

There wasn’t much else to know. He never shared personal information. Never spoke to anybody when they were eating in the dining hall. And he usually had a permanent scowl on his face.

Been here as long as I have, which could be a problem.

If he’d guessed right about her next move, things would get difficult.

But there was no time to waste, as she sprinted around the corner, not looking back, headed for the doors.

“She’s at the south end!” came Cade's voice, shouting the information. “Tracker data just got sent!”

Alarm flared up inside her as she pushed harder, hearing distant footsteps, like a storm rumbling ever closer.

An officer getting accurate tracker location information was plausible. But that fast?

That was as impossible as anyone getting inside that vent system. It wasn't as if it couldn't happen.

It was the implications that came with it.

Lowering her shoulder, she rammed through the doors to the outside, not breaking her stride, pumping her arms faster, running even harder.

The belated popping of bullets caused a ruckus behind her. When she was free and out of range, she slowed, taking a moment to look at the outer edge of her thigh. Both relief and disapproval colored the sigh that followed. She ignored the scrape, left by a stray bullet, and continued on. It didn’t feel safe to be so close to Amest, she thought while looking back toward the building she’d lived in for years, not with someone like that officer there.

Prior to the escapes of Sarah and the others, sitting along one wall, waiting, strapped to a chair, they watched the monitors like a hawk, not caring who noticed the interest and investment in their eyes. They needed to know. They needed to see this. At this point, it didn’t matter that they were under constant surveillance due to giving the Ghosts a warning.

A minor scrape notification popped up under Sarah’s image. A red area flashed along the back of the 3D model showing a generalized anatomical depiction beneath her name. Next to the red box flashed the cause. A mace.

They took a slow breath. If they knew her as well as they believed, she was playing guardian to every member of the Ghosts. A scrape was due to neglecting herself to aid them. Not one of the others had any flashing red boxes. It was a relief, but not that she was in a situation to get hurt. Even inside Fallacy, it was something that would last, even if it didn’t appear as a bloody mess in the real world.

The moment they saw three of them out-pod almost simultaneously, they understood what play had been made. Pride swelled in them.

A good choice, Vice-Captain.

They watched the vitals. The heartbeats. Breaths. Speed of movement.

Every other minute, their location would pop up on the Fallacy map decorating one of the monitors. The rest of the one-hundred-nineteen seconds meant they could be anywhere.

As the last three got out-pod, they closed their eyes momentarily. It was the first obstacle.

Cleared.

“The boss is on his way,” a guard said, hand to their ear, listening to the other end of the line. They made eye contact with the reason the boss was coming all the way down to the facility at this hour on this particular day.

Normally, the boss was quite busy, running a whole corporation and whatnot.

“He won’t be happy with you,” they added.

A reply wasn’t necessary, but it came, slowly, curtly.

“I know that.”

They knew all about it. But they’d lost the ability to care about such a person long ago. Maybe even from the day they first met. Well, met unofficially, that is. They'd seen the boss's true colors then.

Their eyes went back to the monitors, watching the data from the trackers, focused. The blueprints of the facilities were brought up, one by one, and over the next ten minutes, little blinking dots left them, headed to the mountains.

All but him, they thought to themselves while looking at Facility Yellen’s map, understandably.

Slooky and Lott made good time, jogging quietly with each other on the way to Magnice. Occasionally, a question would be asked. No unnecessary banter between them. No jokes. No breaks. To both of them, this was comfortable, as they had far too much on their minds already.

“Ever been?” Slooky asked her after a while.

“To Yellen?”

“Mhm.”

“Nope.” Lott shook her head. “You?”

“No.”

Considering neither knew the layout, it was paramount that they take a trip around the outside for recon. That is, in Slooky’s mind, it took priority. Knowing how to get in and out was crucial. Having a Plan B was even more so.

Lott, on the other hand, was mentally going through each potential reason Magnice wouldn’t be able to get out alone, her mind wandering close to the realm of unrealistic. Was he in a room, cut off from everyone? Chained? Injured and recuperating? She didn’t know, but that was important in getting him out safely.

If they needed more time to get him free, they’d have to come up with a fantastic and foolproof plan or wait for the others to arrive.

But, if they waited, would it be too late for him?

Slowly, Yellen came into sight. Taking up residence behind some rocks, looking down at the facility, they relaxed their bodies for a bit as they came up with a generalized plan. Distract and extract.

Lott started drawing a map as Slooky got up and darted off to see what the other side of it looked like. Slooky made his way back as Lott got an idea of who the guards were on patrol and how they worked while she waited.

“It’s totally the same.”

“Hm?”

“The other side is like a carbon copy of this side. Like symmetrical?”

He pointed out the spots that held guard posts on the roof, doors that led in as well as windows. Both of them paused. It was good to have an idea of the outside, but it was hard to know what had to be done on the inside to get to Magnice and subsequently, get him out safely.

A horrifying thought crossed Slooky’s mind as they silently looked over the dirt-drawn picture of the facility.

“Lott?” he asked cautiously.

“What?”

His mouth opened and closed again, wordless.

“What?” Lott, peeved by his lack of reply, glanced his way before continuing to study the map they’d drawn out, marking an entrance on the back side with a star.

“Do you have any clue what Jack looks like?”