"If we're goin' to do dis," Eric said carefully, "We have to plan a date. When da Guards won't be expecting it."
"Well, yeah," said Jonathan. "But when? During a lunch period?"
"No. They would suspect something right away if they saw that and would gun everyone down right then and there," I said.
"Yeah... but when should we do it then?" Jon asked.
We all sat silently around the table. Even Jon, who could never stay quiet for more than 20 seconds, sat and though until it seemed like his head would explode.
"How 'bout the Festival? The Harvest Fest?" Eric asked. He pushed his black square-rimmed glasses back up his nose. His accent was thick and distinct. He said his family had always been from a city that had once been called Brooklyn. He was the first one to leave the city in over thirty years. But that had been to go to the City of Black and White.
"The Harvest Festival?" I asked.
"Oh, yeah! Most people are happy after the festival. The let us celebrate. The staying out after curfew could be taken just as that; celebrating," Matt said.
"Well, then it shouldn't be after. It should be during," I said. "When is the festival?"
"In two and a half weeks," Eric said. "You'll just barely make it. You were due for execution in three weeks, right?"
I nodded. None of them were due for execution for at least three months. I was the closest to death by far. No one mentioned that if this plan failed, that if the Guards suspected something, shut the celebration down... I would be killed immediately and then Ergastulum would live like this forever.