Janie and The Gray: Part 6

I stepped forward and turned to face the door — the bowl of cold slop in my left hand and the spoon gripped tightly in my right. I exhaled deeply and flung the bowl like a frisbee over the heads of the eating prisoners. I launched as the bowl clattered against the wall and floor — my starting gun. I ran. Hard. Dormant muscles jolted and twitched to life.

I covered most of the distance while Joffrey's attention was on the bowl. He turned to me when I was a few strides away — my adrenaline-soaked brain absorbing the pain of the psycho-static invasion. He grabbed the butt of the weapon slung over his shoulder as I swung the spoon in wide arc. I drove the handle through the skin of his right eye and crashed into his shoulder at full speed. He flew backward against the right door as I ricocheted into the left door. It swung open — spilling me into the outside world.

Disorienting daylight, asphalt beneath my feet, blue sky, the bite of cold, fresh air. A world without walls. I stumbled forward and ran like hell — rocketing through the empty parking lot toward the tree line. Outside.