by CW Johnson
“Well here’s the thing, Lieutenant. This kid isn’t on the non-violent list.”
“Of course not,” King said. “If he’d been on the non-violent list we’d ‘a let him go.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you, sir. He’s not on the Violent Felons list either.”
“What’s he charged with?”
“He was brought in for kidnapping his wife, but he’s never even been to court. There isn’t any charges, no records…nothing.”
“What the hell is he doing in prison?” King said.
The guard shrugged. “Don’t know, sir.” We just pulled him out with the violent offenders assuming he was on that list, since he wasn’t on the non-violent list…. Check it out for yourself. He isn’t on either list.”
King grabbed the clipboard from the guard. “What’s his name?”
“Riley, Todd.”
King read down the violent offenders list and quickly checked the non-violent list. “This is one lucky kid,” he said, after scanning the papers. “You’re right, he’s not here.”
He stared at Todd thoughtfully. “I’m gonna’ let him go.”
Todd looked up at the soldiers holding him up. “What did he say?”
The soldiers let go of him and he fell to the ground. “Looks like we’ll have to help him,” a soldier said. “He’s in shock or something.”
The two soldiers lifted him and walked towards the door leading back into the prison. “How do you get out of here?” one of the soldiers hollered back at King.
“Better go with’ em Blake.”
The guard quickly moved towards them. “This way,” he said, passing them by.
The men moved down several long corridors until they were outside the prison walls. They reached a thirty-foot tall gate within a chain link fence topped with rows of swirling razor wire. Less than twenty feet away stood another gate, a copy of the first. The men pulled Todd to a decorative rock in the center of a large round flower garden just outside the gate. They sat him down on the rock.
“You’ll need this in case you get stopped,” the guard said, pushing a printed certificate of pardon into Todd’s hand. He turned to leave. “Find a place to hide for tonight,” he said over his shoulder. “They’re shooting everything that moves.”
The guard and soldiers moved back through the prison gate and were gone. Todd found himself sitting alone on a rock in the middle of a beautiful flowerbed. Maybe this is heaven, he thought.
Slowly the fog began lifting and memories of recent events began to re-emerge. “Oh my God! Leland…” Suddenly, he remembered….
Maria!
Where was Maria?
He could go now.
He could find Maria.
He leapt to his feet. Where am I going? …The Vanderbilt psychiatric hospital…Maria’s there. He looked around, trying to get his bearings. It was a beautiful summer evening, but no one was out. He ran towards a small, softly lit building in the distance. When he reached it he recognized it as one of the guard stations. No one was there. He carefully pushed the door open and walked into the tiny room. On the floor he spotted what looked like a map. He reached down and picked it up. It was a map the prison gave visitors. He fumbled with it, trying to find some point of reference.
“Hey, what are you doin’?” a stern voice said.
Todd jumped.
“What are you doin’ in there?” the voice said again.
Todd could scarcely make out a figure standing in the darkness just outside the door. He reached into his pocket for his certificate. “I, I’m a pardoned inmate.”
“Hold it Guero!” the voice boomed. “Keep your hands where I can see them!”
“I’m j-just getting my pardon out of…my pocket.”
“Ok essey,” the voice said. “Show it to me… slowly.”
Todd gingerly reached into his pocket and pulled the certificate out.
“That loo’s just like this one!” the man yelled, pushing an identical paper into the light.
The man standing outside the door began laughing. Todd squinted, trying to make out the face. The man moved forward. Todd stared in horror as Tacoma stepped into the shack.
“We meet again, guero,” he growled, his gold tooth sparkling in the soft light.
Todd instinctively glanced around, looking for Hector and Madrid.
Tacoma grinned. “Just you and me, guero.”
Todd felt the moment of overload. He felt his face harden as he moved towards Tacoma. Tacoma backed away, trying to brace himself against the unexpected attack but it was too late. Todd fired a fast right jab into Tacoma’s nose, smashing the cartilage into his face. He followed with a left cross to the right side of Tacoma’s chin. Tacoma threw his arms up in an effort to fend off the sudden pounding. Todd took the advantage and fired a well-placed snap kick into Tacoma’s groin. Tacoma stumbled out of the shack and went down. Todd ran from the shack, looked around wildly, and spotted a large rock. He ran to retrieve it and raced back.
“Oh no!” Tacoma groaned, as Todd lifted the rock up over his head. “I give up essey!” He lay fetal on the ground, blood pouring from his nose. One hand was covering his groin, the other, pushed out in front of him, anticipating a rock crashing down on his head. “I give man. You don’t gotta’ beat me down, essey!”
Todd, horrified at what he was doing, quickly tossed the rock back onto the gravel road.
“Hey essey,” Tacoma groaned. “I’m just a short-timer. I’m in for bad checks, that’s all. First time I ever been in essey, ya gotta’ believe me. I was just like you, bro, trying to survive. I had to move with Hector to survive. That’s all, man, I swear.”
Todd fell against the shack and sat down on the gravel.
“You s’pose to be movin’ with the Rev, bro,” Tacoma said. “You’re s’pose to forgive, essey. Not s’pose to beat people down.”
Todd sat on the ground panting, trying to catch his breath.
“Bro,"Tacoma continued, “Rev says forgiveness is nine tenths of the law.”
Todd looked at Tacoma and shook his head. “No…possession…possession is nine tenths of the law.”
“No, essey, I told you. I’m in for bad checks.”
“No…” Todd said, still panting, “you just said…. Never mind.”
Tacoma fell silent and lay quietly at his feet. After a time, Todd stood. “Where are we?”
“Huh?” Tacoma said.
“Where is this place?”
“Do you mean the prison?”
“Yeah, how far are we from Nashville? Do you know where Vanderbilt campus is from here?”
Tacoma was finally ready to sit up. Todd glared at him warily.
He held out the palm of his bloody hand. “Peace essey. You made your point. I don’t want any more trouble with you, bro.”
“How do I get out of here?” Todd said.
“Just’ go down that road. I can show you if you want.”
Todd rolled his hand over his chin, looking around him into the darkness. “Can you show me where the psych hospital is at Vanderbilt?”
“No, bro, I don’t know where the psych’ hospital is, but the campus is just over there, on West End.”
“Where?”
“Over there,” Tacoma said, nodding his head in the direction.
Todd squinted into the night. “The city is over there?”
Tacoma wiped the blood from his nose and inspected it in his hand. He glanced back up at Todd and pointed a bloody finger. “Yeah, bro. It’s right over there.”
“Shouldn’t we be see’in lights or somethin’?”
“Oh yeah, essey, you’re right.” Tacoma painfully stood and turned in a slow circle trying to get his bearings. “Yeah, bro,” he said finally. “Iss there, I’m possible.”
Todd stared at him. “You mean positive?”
“Huh?”
“You just said 'It’s there, I’m possible….I think you meant to say, 'It’s there, I’m positive.'”
�
�Huh?”
Todd gave Tacoma a long look, shook his head and stood. “Let’s go. Can you make it?”
“Yeah, just’ give me a minute. Where did you’ learn to fi’ li’ that, bro?”
“UCLA middleweight kickboxing champ two years in a row.”
“It’s my luck,” Tacoma said softly.
“Do you mean just my luck?” Todd asked.
“Huh?”
~~~
Maria stared into Dr. Oliver’s eyes, tears streaking her beautiful face. Oliver’s hand, still holding the scalpel, trembled uncontrollably. He slowly pulled it away.
Santana leaned in. “What are you doing now?”
“There’s something that should be done first,” Oliver said, his face pale and clammy.
“What do you have to do, go to the john?” Santana shouted.
“No,” Oliver said quietly. “I don’t have to go to the john.”
“Then hurry up. We don’t have all night.”
Oliver wiped the sweat from his forehead with his arm. “I know. I just have something to do before I can start.”
“What!” Santana yelled. “What do you have to do?”
Oliver didn’t answer.
Santana stepped forward. “Do you want me to start? Is that it? I’ll tell you what,” he said. “I’ll make the first cut. That way we can get it over with; ok?”
Oliver lowered his eyes and shook his head. “You don’t understand Mr. Santana. There’s something that has to be done first.”
“Tell me what’s so damned important you have to do it right now!” Santana bellowed, losing his temper.
Oliver raised his face and locked eyes with Santana. “Judgment,” he said.
Santana screamed and recoiled. Oliver’s eyes had become black, like two ghastly holes in his head. Tanner, who had been standing at Maria’s feet, screamed and wrapped his hands over his face. The other man standing at the head of the table clawed at his face and fell to the floor writhing. Within seconds, the screaming turned into strangled gags. Both men began gasping and grunting as they wildly kicked and squirmed on the floor.
Santana stood horrified, watching Tanner’s eyes and tongue swelling in his face like balloons. Blue streaks shot throughout his bulging eyes as the pressure mounted. His tongue, enormous and purple, expanded till it looked like a basketball protruding from his ghastly deforming mouth. His jaw, snapping and popping, finally gave way and collapsed against his chest. Santana yelped as Tanner’s face burst, spraying blood ten feet in all directions. Another blast of blood sprayed the room from just behind the table. The men on the floor fell silent.
Maria screamed hysterically. Oliver, floating inches from the floor, moved around the table towards Santana. Santana whirled and wailed. Making no attempt to shield himself, he ran face first into a wall twenty feet away. The impact broke his nose and all but knocked him unconscious. He slowly slid to the floor. Wild with terror, he pressed his bloody face hard against the concrete floor. Oliver hovered so close behind him he could feel him breathing on the back of his neck.
“Did you really think the Father would allow you to gut his handmaiden like a pig?”
Santana winced at the sound of the horrifying voice. No longer able to resist, he slowly rolled onto his back and faced what was once Dr. Oliver, now floating horizontally just inches above him. Santana’s eyes widened, his face turned purple, the veins in his neck bulged as he stared up into the face of the horror. He shrieked, rolled out from under the aberration and pressed himself against the wall.
“Did you really think the Father would allow you to use his only begotten son as property for gain? He has returned you to your knees!”
The thing that once was Dr. Oliver pushed the scalpel forward.
Santana wailed.
“You know what to do!” the thing said.
Santana screamed again and seized the razor-sharp scalpel by the blade. Blood spurted from his hand.
“You know what to do….”
Santana screamed and pulled the scalpel from the gash in his hand. He turned it over and pressed it against his fat, writhing belly.
“You know what to do….”
Santana’s shrieking reached a crescendo. He began raking the scalpel across his own abdomen. Within moments, his screams were replaced by insane maniacal laughter as he began ripping his own belly to pieces.
Maria stared in horror as the thing hovered over Santana, now inexplicably cutting himself wide open with the scalpel meant for her.
“Everything is alright now, Little Miss.”
Maria squealed and whirled in the direction of the unexpected voice coming from her immediate right. Dr. Oliver was standing over her, smiling gently. She whirled again, looking back in Santana’s direction. Santana was now sitting alone against the wall, laughing maniacally and ripping at the steaming mound of bloody intestines now pouring into his lap. She whirled back around and stared, horrified, at Dr. Oliver.
He leaned forward and gently pulled the gag from her face.
“Who—who are you?” she breathed.
“I’m the champion of the only begotten son, Little Miss. I am the servant of the child you carry in your blessed womb.”
“Are you really Dr—Who are you…really?”
“I’m not Dr. Oliver, if that’s what you’re asking, Miss,” he said softly. “My name is Michael…Brother Michael.”
~~~
Todd and Tacoma managed to make their way east until a wire fence stopped them. They had inadvertently stumbled onto the outskirts of an airport. Ever mindful of the guard’s warning to stay out of sight, they cautiously followed the fence towards the terminals.
As they reached one of the first buildings in sight, the beam of a flashlight suddenly strafed them.
“Hit the ground!” Todd yelped, diving into a thick patch of weeds. Tacoma quickly followed just as the beam returned.
“Who’s there?” a man’s voice hollered from behind the building. Todd and Tacoma lay motionless in the brush.
“You better come out whoever you are. I’m sending the dog.”
Tacoma turned his head towards Todd. “What should we do?”
A yelping dog appeared from around the building pulling a soldier behind him. Another soldier followed. The dog scrambled towards the fence, barking viciously. The soldier coming up from behind pulled his M-16 rifle to the ready.
“Let me do the talking.” Todd whispered as the soldiers approached.
The wildly barking dog reached the fence and began darting back and forth along the fence line.
“I’m getting out of here,” Tacoma said.
He braced to run but Todd reached and pushed him back onto the ground. “If you run they’ll probably shoot you, and if they don’t shoot you, you’ll never be able to outrun the dog. Just lay still.”
Something sprang to life in the thicket just in front of them. Todd jumped as the thing broke free of the grass and sprinted noisily away. The dog hit the fence barking, violently snapping at the chain link.
“It’s just a rabbit,” one of the soldiers said. “Come on girl, let’s go.” He pulled the hopping dog away as it circled and barked in Todd and Tacoma’s direction. The soldiers disappeared back behind the building.
“We have to get away from here,” Todd said softly.
“I’m right’ behin’ you,” Tacoma said, still lying low in the grass. “We need to get away from the airport, bro. Too much security here.”
Todd crawled till he was reasonably sure he was far enough away from the soldiers. He lay motionless, catching his breath, before he slowly rose to his hands and knees.
“Where did everybody go?” Tacoma said.
Todd shook his head. “I’m not sure. My guess is they’ve posted some sort of curfew.”
“If it’s a curfew, bro, shouldn’t we be finding a place to hide for the night like the hack said?”
“You can if you want to. I can’t. I gotta get to Vanderbilt.”
Tacoma fell
silent for a time. “Ah why not,” he finally said, shrugging. “I’ll help you get there, bro.”
Todd blew a breath out and slowly scanned the area. “I think I could find it from here. I’ve been there a lot with my wife. I’m just… having a hard time finding reference points…I’m not from around here.”
Tacoma hesitated again, his expression turning serious. “The way I see it, this is a la’ lie jail, you know? You got your good guys and you got your malos vatos. One side is trying to kill the other. I think we got to watch each other’s neck, bro. You know what I’m sayin’? Besides, I owe you, man.”
“Do you mean, watch each other’s back?” Todd said.
“Yeah, bro, we got to wash each other’s back.”
“No…you said…” Todd thought about it and decided to let it go. “Why do you owe me?”
“You know,” Tacoma said shrugging, “two weeks in the go-slow.”
Todd glared at Tacoma. “Oh yeah… that’s right, yeah… I’m pissed off.”
He turned into the darkness and continued crawling west as fast as he could. Tacoma followed till they reached a thicket of brush bordering a set of railroad tracks. They followed the tracks till they reached a small knoll where they could look out over the airport.
“Look at that,” Tacoma said quietly.
Todd turned to look.
Tacoma pointed into the night. “Who lined them all up like that?”
Todd could see rows of jumbo jets lined up in the moonlight filling the tarmac. Some of them looked like they were only just inches from each other. All of them appeared abandoned on the unlit runway.
“You’d think all of those planes would be flying away from here,” Tacoma said.
Todd nodded. “You’d think. It’s hard to figure what’s going on here.”
Tacoma turned and motioned once more into the darkness. “We should go tha’ way. I’m pretty sure Vanderbilt iss over there.”
The two men moved into the brush lining the railroad tracks and began pushing their way west. It wasn’t long before they stumbled into a clearing.
“Wha’s that?” Tacoma said. “Iss that the freeway?”
Todd stared into the darkness. “It’s the freeway alright, but why is it so quiet?”
“That’s what I was wondering. Damn, bro, that’s creepy.”
“Yeah,” Todd said, slowly moving forward.
Tacoma hesitated and followed.
They made their way up the embankment until they reached a tall chain-link fence.
Todd interlinked his fingers in the link and gave it a yank. “Now what?”
