“I see it," Freya pointed ahead on the other side of the bridge. A gas lamp or candle was burning just outside the jail door. They hurried across the bridge as silently as they could and approached the building with trepidation.
Devon squeezed her hand and halted. She looked back at him questioningly. He opened the sack, handed her a taser, and took one for himself. She nodded in approval.
10
They crept up the few steps to reach the door, then tried the latch, and thankfully, the door opened. They both slipped inside and noticed a large room with benches and a desk at the front, up on a raised platform. This must be the courtroom.
So far, they hadn't seen anyone, but why would a lamp be burning outside with no one around to tend it?
Devon pointed to a door at the back of the room, and she assumed it would lead to some stairs. They tiptoed to that door and opened it. The latch made a noise, just a tiny squeak, but it was enough to alert anyone around.
They froze in place for a few moments. Then, with no evidence to indicate another person was there, they crept down the stairs.
"Over here," Freya said and pulled Devon in the direction of the middle cell on the right. Nothing was stirring, so she imagined that everyone was asleep. Unfortunately, the angle grinder was going to make a whole lot of noise.
"Brianna, Grandma, wake up."
Devon fished out the angle grinder and placed it against the bars. One woman on the other side of the cell moved, but it was hard to say if they were awake or not. As soon as Devon fired up the angle grinder and pressed it to the bars, it created sparks and the expected earsplitting whine. Soon, everyone in the jail leaned against the bars, trying to see what the hell was going on.
Devon worked at the bars as fast as he could, opening an area where the two women could slip through.
"Freya. Thank the Goddess!" Brianna stood and grabbed her sister’s arms through the bars. Her grandmother didn't rise. Shouting over the noise of the machine, Freya shouted, "Grandma? Grandma, wake up."
Brianna looked over her shoulder, and her eyes grew large. “Oh, no." She ran over to their grandmother and tried to rouse her. "Grandma. Grandma, are you okay?"
Thankfully, she moaned. Freya let out a deep breath and hoped her grandmother could make the trip. If not, she would carry her the whole way back.
At last, Devon stopped the infernal noise and stuffed the machine back into the sack, leaving the broken bars on the floor.
“I'm coming in so we can get grandma and get out of here," Freya said.
Both women rushed to their grandmother and helped her to stand. She seemed so weak that she could barely hold her head up.
"Freya, is that you? Are you real?"
"Yes, Grandma, we’re here.”
"You girls go. Leave me behind. I'll only slow you down."
"Not gonna happen, Grandma," Freya stated, firmly.
Devon stepped through the bars. "Upsy Daisy, Mrs. Suretti," he said, and scooped their grandmother into his arms, carrying her like she was a baby. “Ladies, go out the hole, and I'll hand her to you."
The space was only about two feet by three feet, but he handed her legs through easily. As soon as she was outside the cell, he stretched his arms through the opening and touched Esther’s feet to the ground. Freya grabbed her sister’s hands under their grandmother’s knees and behind her back. They pulled her out of the hole and struggled to stand with her in their arms. They held her there until Devon came out, and then he scooped her up again. The other prisoners seemed to have recovered from the shock of seeing something that didn't exist in their time. They started shouting, "Prithee, help us!” and when the interlopers looked ready to leave, “Dost thou have no heart?"
Devon asked Freya to grab the sack and follow him up the stairs. Brianna picked up the extra iron bars and handed them off to the prisoners in the next two cells. "Hide this. If they open your door, use it to knock them out and then escape."
One prisoner groaned and said, “I fear the wrath of Judge Stoughton. I dare not attack any soul and anger him further.”
Brianna dropped her head and mumbled, "I'm sorry."
Freya grabbed her sister around her tiny waist and helped her up the stairs.
They had just run outside when someone shouted, “Halt! Who goes there?”
“Run!” Devon said, urgently. He was burdened with Freya’s grandmother but ran as fast as he could. The man with a musket was gaining on them.
Freya turned just in time to see him stop and aim his musket at Devon’s back.
