Lights Out (22 page)

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Authors: Nate Southard

BOOK: Lights Out
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“Then fuck you. I’m goin’. You want to chill here, I don’t give a fuck. I’ll tell the hacks where to find yo ass.”

Maggot heard the doorknob jiggle in Tree’s grip, and he almost screamed. Tears ran hot and fast down his cheeks, but he remained silent, same as always. His teeth ground against each other, and he felt a sudden warmth between his legs as his bladder let go.

Light reached his eyes as the door swung open.

He expected one of the killing things to be waiting on the other side, teeth bared. Instead, there was only an empty hallway. A faint slash of light cut through the dim space. Sunlight. Morning had arrived. That did not mean they were safe, though. The killing things could be anywhere, waiting.

The giant stepped into the doorway. Maggot reached out to grab the man’s shoulder, but stopped himself. He did not want to get hit again. Instead, he called after the big man.

“Wait for me!”

The giant looked back. “You better follow.”

Maggot squeezed his eyes shut, clamping his jaw tight. He shook his head, hoping the fear might evaporate, and then stepped toward the door.

The cool air from the hallway hit him, and he remembered he was not wearing any shoes. How far was it back to the hospital? There were blankets there, and the killing thing that had been inside was dead, destroyed. He did not think it was far. He would follow the giant there, and he would be safe.

He stepped into the hallway and found Tree staring at something. The hall had been crossed with yellow tape. Blood had splashed the floor and walls, even the ceiling. A sheet covered what could only be a body. Maggot remembered watching the killing things tear the man in two last night, and he shivered.

Several men stood near the taped area, examining it and trying not to step in the blood. Maggot watched them fumble around, and he suddenly realized how funny it was. He imagined one of the men slipping, just like Officer Nicholas had done when they had found Dr. Wilson, and a loud peel of laughter erupted from his body. Tree jumped, and the men turned to look at them.

They ran toward him, shouting with angry voices. Tree moved at once, pressing his chest against the wall and putting his hands against the back of his head. Maggot looked at the giant’s position against the wall, and it just made everything that much more hysterical. Everything hid behind a wet haze of tears. He tried to wipe at his eyes, but suddenly the men were on him, their hands grabbing and their arms wrapping tight, and they were wrestling him to the ground. Maggot never fought them, never did anything but laughed. He wished he could see. How he wished he could look at their red faces as they huffed and puffed and sneered down at him.

Tree was yelling, “We didn’t do nuthin’!” over and over again, but Maggot did not think the men cared. They did not appear to care about anything other than yelling and holding him against the floor. His cheek pressed against the cold tile, and when he opened his eyes his vision was strangely clear.

He gazed down the hall, ignoring the angry men, and looked at the blood. It pooled on the dirty concrete. When he breathed in deep, he could smell it. The thick scent attacked his nostrils, and suddenly it was all too much. His laughter died, and soon he was crying again, weeping because he’d seen so much blood lately.

And because he knew he’d see more.

 

 

 

Fourteen

 

 

It started as whispers, nearly silent words that would have been considered rumor if they hadn’t been spoken by the leaders and guards both. The message spread slowly at first, then began to pick up steam as hushed words sometimes do. It moved from person to person and cell to cell--a virus of words.

A strange electricity began to course through Burnham. As word built, starting to spread at a faster and faster rate, the whisper stream began to hum, sounding like the current racing along a high tension line. The message leaked from Unit B to Units A and C. The guards whispered about it in tight circles, wondering just how crazy they must be to agree to such a thing. Surely it was suicide. The inmates chittered like excited schoolchildren talking about how things were going to fucking change, and then word would come down from their leaders. Business first, then pleasure. Anything different would be dealt with.

Shortly after breakfast was over--nervous inmates forcing themselves to eat their apples and dry cereal--the whispers quieted. An awkward hush filled the vacuum. The air felt thick and heavy, oppressive. Stomachs tightened with nervous tension. Sweat beaded.

The inmates sat on their bunks. They paced. They looked questions and answers at each other or leaned against their bars and watched the other inmates sit or pace or look. But none of them spoke. They didn’t need to anymore. Neither did the guards. They all knew how it was going to go down, and they all knew why.

And they all knew when.

 

***

 

Father Darren Albright stayed locked in his office, praying to the Christ on his wall. His stomach tossed and grumbled, and more than once he had to halt his prayers so he could breathe deeply, struggling to keep his belly in check. Sweat soaked his face, any coolness provided doing little to calm his jangling nerves.

As he prayed, the same words tumbled from his lips again and again. “Lord, protect and forgive me. Lord, protect and forgive me.”

 

 

 

Fifteen

 

 

“How long until the Feds arrive?” Timms asked. He held a cup of coffee in his hands and looked deep into the dark liquid. It reminded him of his career--black and bleak.

Governor Graham shrugged, stirring the cream into her own cup. “A few hours. They wanted to send somebody local, but I told them I wanted Washington boys or nobody.”

“Sure,” Ron said. “Makes sense. Get the best, right?”

“I’m up for re-election next year, warden. I don’t want an opponent telling me I’m soft, that I didn’t try. I get these boys to come in, take a look around, and I’m bulletproof. Doesn’t matter if they find anything or not. I can officially pass the buck.”

He nodded, feeling a little twist of disgust in his gut. Graham was a bitch through and through, but sooner or later she might prove to be a great asset to him, as long as he could help her. So he dealt with her, doing his best to let the bad things roll off his back. He could change things when he reached the top, but he’d have to swallow his fair amount of shit on the climb.

He didn’t think that made him a sellout, but he wasn’t so sure.

“I’m sorry you had to come here for this,” he told her. “We’d hoped we could handle it. Hell, we thought we had.”

“Well, it’s getting handled now.” She sipped at her coffee, grimaced. “Shit. Can’t you get something better than this?”

“You’ve seen our budget.”

She shot him a look, and he held up a hand. “Sorry, Governor.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t get elected by being the prison system’s best friend. I bring crime down, and that raises prison population. Cost of doing business. You understand.”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“Will you be here when the feds arrive?”

“Me? No. I have other places to be today. Don’t think just because I make a stop you’re suddenly my favorite kid.”

“I wouldn’t make that mistake. Governor, I would like to be a bigger help to you.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him. Her smile was an amused one. “Do you think you can be?”

“I do. I’ve been in the trenches more than a little bit. I’ve seen how things work, and I know how to make them work in my favor.”

She let out a little laugh. “Really? How on Earth does what’s going on here work in your favor?”

“Because when it stops, I’m a hero. I saved the lives of men who were in danger of being slaughtered.”

“You saved the lives of complete bastards with my help. There’s a difference.”

“Depends on which way you spin it; you know that more than I do. I go on TV and say, ‘I couldn’t have done this without the timely assistance of Governor Graham. If she cares this much for the State’s convicts, I can only imagine how deeply she cares for its citizens.’ I come out as the man who stopped a series of murders, and you’re the woman who made it all possible. It’s a rosy picture, and it’s a can’t miss.”

Her amused smile widened, sincerity creeping in around the edges. “I like it,” she said. “You’re pretty clever, warden.”

Ron nodded his thanks.

“I’ll tell you what. You get this place sorted out and squared away, keep it that way, and I think I can find a position for you in my administration. Does that sound like a fair shake?”

“More than fair.”

“Good.” She finished her coffee and set the cup down on his desk. “I’m getting out of this hellhole. Keep me informed. I expect to know the second you have somebody in custody.”

“You will.”

“I better.”

And she left.

Ron leaned back, smiling to himself. He felt a small stab of guilt, but it was something he could live with. A step up was just the thing to remove that kind of sting.

 

***

 

“No. Not possible.”

“It is. Fuckin’ deal with it.”

Maggot felt sweat pop up in beads on his forehead, on his palms. His stomach twisted in a knot.

“The killing things...It will not matter what we do. They will murder every one of us.”

He turned to look Officer Nicholas in the eye, but received a slap across the back of the head for his troubles. “Eyes front, asswipe,” the C.O. said. “Tell you the truth, Maggot, I don’t believe in any of this shit. Everybody else seems to, though. Looks like I’m stuck going along for the ride.”

“You could leave.”

“I’ve fuckin’ tried. That cunt of a Governor’s got this place sealed up tighter than a nun’s snatch. Nobody gets in or out until they find the killer.”

“The killing things.”

Another hand crashed across the back of the skull, this one harder. “Cut out that ‘killing things’ bullshit, okay? You’re not fooling anybody with it. People are doing this, plain and fuckin’ simple. All we’re gonna do is declare open season. Morrow and the priest, they got their heads up their asses, and they’re taking the rest of us with them.”

“Father Albright?” Maggot wanted to turn around, but he kept his eyes forward. Even so, he flinched as if another blow was coming. It never arrived.

“Yeah. It was his dumb ass came up with the idea, so I’ve heard. Maybe he thinks the Lord will give two shits about how much we’re gonna pay for this fucking scheme.”

“Father Albright is a nice man. If it was his idea, it will work.”

“I wouldn’t count on it, Maggot. One part about it I do like, though.”

“What?”

Maggot felt the guard’s warm, sticky fingers on the back of his neck.

Nicholas whispered right in his ear, his breath hot and awful. “It gives you and me some time together. I like our alone time. I like beating the shit out of your little faggot ass.”

Maggot shivered, but he never turned to face the horrible guard.

“You’re gonna be mine again,” Nicholas said. “Gonna be my little Maggot the faggot. I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t stand.”

“Please--”

“You begging me to do it? I like that. Beg me to let you suck my dick. I want to hear it.”

“Please do not.”

There was a chuckle, slow and deep. “Do not? That’s not on the menu. I’m afraid it’s not even one of the manager’s specials. We’re strictly in a Do situation, you and me.”

Maggot felt the tears well up in his eyes, but he blinked them back. He did not want to cry in front of Officer Nicholas. Crying would earn him a beating, and he could not handle that right now. He simply could not. “Okay,” he finally whispered.

The breath disappeared from his ear, the fingers from his neck. “Good. That’s real good.”

Nicholas grabbed Maggot’s arm and dragged him to a halt. The guard unlocked the door to Maggot’s cell and shoved him inside. He slammed the door shut and snickered. “See you later, Maggot.”

Maggot did not turn around to watch Nicholas leave. Instead, he stared at the cell’s rear wall, trying to lose himself in the drab concrete. He did not even blink until he heard his cellmate’s voice.

“Welcome home, bitch.”

 

 

 

Sixteen

 

 

“You serious, Tree? You killed one of those things?”

“Yeah, man. Stomped my way right through its damn neck.”

“That’s some good shit to know. How ‘bout you tell me all about it.”

 

***

 

“Why are we doing this, Omar?”

“To save our lives.”

“I still can’t believe that was Chale. That’s some crazy shit.”

“It’s true, though.”

“I know.”

“And we’re going to see him again, too.”

 

***

 

“How do we know they won’t just go apeshit and try to kill us?”

“Because they’re scared, too.”

“Maybe, but they’re only scared of those things, Ray. I’m afraid of the cons, too.”

“I know. I’m right there with you.”

 

***

 

“Aldo, my boy, I’m sorry. I’ll put you to rest soon.”

 

***

 

“You like that, Maggot? Do ya, you fucking turd?”

“No.”

“Say, ‘Yes.’”

“Yes.”

 

***

 

“You get the word out?”

“Yeah. It went to everybody in the Brotherhood. No matter what, Diggs gets airholed.”

“Good. Music to my fuckin’ ears.”

 

***

 

“Hello, Father.”

“Officer Morrow.”

“What brings you to Unit B today?”

“Nothing special. Thought I’d give the men a chance to take confession.”

 

 

 

Seventeen

 

 

Just after lunch, Tree grabbed his gut and screamed. He wrapped both arms around his midsection, and his face twisted in an expression of brutal agony. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He cast a single look up at Diggs, received a small almost invisible nod, and then crumpled to the floor.

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