"Keep your voice down," Remo whispered. He held a finger up to his lips. In the darkness, his deepset dark eyes gave him the appearance of a shushing skull.

Remo was sitting on the edge of Grautski's bunk. The inmate tugged his blanket toward his chin as he sat up.

"What are you doing in here?" Grautski asked fearfully. His voice was stronger now that he was more awake.

Remo rolled his eyes. "I told you," he said, even more quietly than before. "I just engineered a prison break."

"So what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be outside?"

"Ohh," Remo said with a smile. "Now I understand the source of your confusion. You don't get it. I didn't break out. I broke in."

Grautski looked at the door. Still closed. There was no evidence that it had been opened since it had been locked with a chillingly mechanical click more than four hours before. However, there was still the vexing problem of the thin young man sitting on his bed. He wasn't a ghost; therefore he was real. He must have gotten in somehow.

Grautski wasn't sure if he should call a guard. "Don't call a guard," Remo suggested, as if he had read Todd Grautski's mind. "They only get in the way. We want this to be neat, don't we?"

"Want what to be neat?" Grautski asked. He pulled the covers more tightly to his chin, as if the wool might protect him. There were a lot of people who wanted Todd Grautski dead. He had a sudden sinking feeling that his skull-headed visitor might be one of them.

The stranger's reply surprised him. "Our escape, silly," Remo said.

"You're getting me out?" Grautski asked doubtfully. "Thanks but no thanks. I'll take my chances on appeal." Fearful of his guest, he pulled the blankets over his head.

"Don't you want to be free?" Remo asked Todd Grautski's trembling bedcovers.