Prison Nation

by Jenni Merritt

  Reed glanced at me. Offering me a small smile, he reached down and held my hand gently. “It’s just something some of us have noticed. Those like you, who were born in the Prison, the Nation seems more protective of. They keep a closer eye on you, even when the parole is over.

  “You haven’t been out long,” Reed went on, his eyes focused back on the road. “For those of us who have always been out, we’ve noticed that most of the people convicted lately are the ones who are dirt born. Those born in the prison are staying free more.”

  Eddie turned away from the window. “Tell me, little Jail Baby, what the heck are they preaching to you in there?” He smiled as he asked, but I still cringed at the title.

  I licked my lips. “The same things they teach in school for you. The history of the great Nation. Why it is important that the Nation keeps its criminals locked away.” I lowered my eyes, letting them settle on Reed’s hand as he held mine. “That the Nation needs the good and the strong.”

  Eddie snorted. Snapping my eyes up, I looked over at him. “Sounds like some grade-A brainwashing,” Eddie said, his voice suppressing another laugh. “Or more like some grade-A −”

  “Eddie, come on,” Reed interrupted. I could hear the hint of laughter on his voice.

  “Hey man, we are in a truck heading somewhere we don’t even know. I don’t think there is any Big Brother in here.”

  “Big brother?” I asked.

  Eddie looked at me, his mouth curled at the corners. “Yeah, you know. 1984.”

  I shook my head.

  “Aw, come on! They preach to you about being all good and strong for the Nation, but they don’t even let you read classics like that?”

  “I read my school books. They let me read other books, sometimes… but that had been a treat. We were taught that we needed to learn the truth. That the criminals believed in lies because they were taught lies. The Nation was the strong, and those of us who learned the truth became the good. Didn’t they teach you −”

  Reed shook his head. “You learn something different, Millie, when you’re living the truth.” His face turned thoughtful for a moment. “Makes sense though.”

  “What does?” I asked.

  “Why they lock us up, the ones born on the outside. They don’t want us being out here. They want you.”

  “Me?”

  “Jail Babies. The ones who actually believe in the Nation. The ones who love it.”

  “It’s a Jail Baby apocalypse!” Eddie said, waving his hands in the air as he laughed.

  I looked over to Reed. He smiled, lifted my hand and kissed my fingers. His lips were warm and soft, pressing gently for a second then lifting just enough that I could barely feel his skin brushing mine. I could feel his breath on my fingers, moist in the cool air. Reed held my hand there a moment, then let it drop into my lap as he gripped the steering wheel with both hands. The smile still rested lightly on his lips.

  Eddie leaned in toward me again. “And for the record: we were home schooled. We learned useful things. Like the square root of x.” Eddie laughed and moved to look back out his window at the passing land.

  We let the truck settle into a calm quiet. The engine rumbled, the sound of the tires rolling down the road becoming a constant hum. I let my mind drift to the sounds. Leaning my head against Reed’s shoulder, I closed my eyes. My fingers lightly played with my metal bracelet, spinning it around and around.

  It was cold against my wrist. I could feel the etching of my name under my fingertips as it spun. The image of the small devices used to scan the bracelets trickled into my mind. I had never even bothered to learn what it was called. My entire life my bracelet had been scanned, and I didn’t even know how. I felt something stir in my thoughts. There was something I should know, but no matter how hard I tried to grasp it, it escaped me. There had been so much I had never asked.

  I finally gave up. Sighing, I let my bracelet drop to hang heavy against my wrist as I lifted my hand to touch the key through my thin shirt. I could feel the sea glass tied to it, a small lump under my shirt. My fingers carefully pushed it against my chest. I hadn’t mentioned the key yet. I found myself wishing I could keep it to myself, keep it safe and perfect, the memories of Orrin and Jude secured safely near my heart.

  Reed mumbled to himself, reading the road signs as they passed. A few times he slowed, almost taking an exit, then shook his head and sped past. He didn’t have a plan. He wanted to be free, but didn’t know which direction freedom waited. My heart ached, pressing the key harder against my skin. Sitting up, I glanced at Eddie who snored lightly next to me, then looked over to Reed.

  “I know.”

  Reed glanced at me, his brow furrowed in question. “What?”

  I could hear Eddie lift his head drowsily. “What do you know, Mills?”

  I focused my eyes ahead of us. The road was still empty. Shadows stretched long and lonely as the sun began to set in the distance. I carefully pulled the key out from under my shirt, holding it out in my open palm so the glass glowed in the warm sunlight.

  “I know how we can escape.”

  21

  Reed didn’t want to stop for the night. After I had told him about the door in the Wall, and the key Jude had given me, he insisted we needed to get there as soon as we could. The sky had darkened to a thick black, only a few hints of the sun’s rays glowing faintly in the distance. Memories of the life we were leaving behind pushed us forward.

  Eddie was asleep again. His head leaned against the cool glass of the window. Occasionally Reed would hit a bump in the road and I could hear the dull smack of Eddie’s head as it bounced against the glass. A few times he woke up enough to mutter something angrily to Reed. Reed would just chuckle without responding, and Eddie would drift back to sleep.

  I felt safe.

  Sitting between Reed and Eddie, even as the truck barreled down the deserted highway, I finally felt like I could breathe. Reed’s hand had found its way to my knee, his fingers mindlessly tapping and rubbing as he drove in silence. His touch felt good.

  Ever since I had told them about Jude and the key, Reed had sunk into his thoughts. The decision to head to Cannon Beach had been easy. I knew he wasn’t worrying about that. Something else ate at his mind.

  “Millie?” His voice was quiet, his eyes glancing to make sure Eddie was still asleep. Eddie confirmed with a light snore. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  Reed cleared his throat. I could barely see his silhouette in the darkness. The headlights cast a dim glow on his face, though not enough to make out any expressions he might have been making. “Jude. Were you two −”

  “No!” I shook my head. This had been the thought eating at Reed the entire ride? “Jude was a guard.”

  “Was he…” Reed swallowed hard. “Was he the guard that −”

  “No, Reed. No.” I reached over and laid my hand on top of his. “Jude is… was a friend. The first time I ever even met him face to face in the light was at the prison today.”

  “I thought guards weren’t supposed to be friends with the inmates.” I didn’t like the sound of Reed’s voice. It sounded too much like he didn’t believe me.

  “You’re right.” I reached my hand up to his face, turning it enough to look at me. I couldn’t see him, but I knew he watched me in the dark. “But I am telling the truth. Jude was a friend. Almost like a brother. He may have broken some rules by talking to me as much as he did, but there wasn’t anything more. I promise.”

  I couldn’t understand why Reed was acting so strange.

  Reed squeezed my hand. “Okay,” he sighed. “Okay. I’m sorry. I just… I can’t shake what you had said, about that other guard. I hate the idea that he wanted to hurt you. That he… that he even did what he did. People get busted for a lot less than that every day. And he didn’t even get a wrist slap. What kind of justice is that?”

  “From what I have been learning,” I said quietly, “it’s the exact kind of j
ustice the Nation wants.”

  Reed lifted my hand and kissed it again. “Try to sleep,” he said, resting his hand back on my knee. I nodded, more to myself than to him. Leaning my head on his shoulder, I let my eyes shut and carry me off into sleep.

  | | |

  I watched the Prison. Its dark stone walls rose high into the overcast sky. There was no one around. I stood alone, staring up at the menacing walls topped with razor wire. Something inside me made me want to run away, to get as far from the Prison as I possibly could. I tried to turn. I tried to run. Instead, I felt my body pulled towards the waiting door.

  I didn’t want to go in. The walls darkened, angry at me for rejecting them. The sky rolled with clouds. I held my breath. In the silence I faintly began to hear the rhythm of the life I had left. The heavy beat of the laundry room throbbed slow and deep, rumbling the earth with every throb. The faint shuffled feet of life inside. The perfectly timed angry shout, the dull thump of a fist making contact, the matching crescendo of guard’s boots. The light sobs like a descant of a broken woman.

  Tears stung my eyes as the music of the prison enveloped me. It called to me. It reminded me of where I had come from, of who I truly was. It beckoned the fog to return me to my coming insanity.

  I tried to wipe the tears from my cold cheeks, but my hands wouldn’t respond. They hung limply at my side, my fingertips tapping along with the music. My parents were in there. Orrin was in there. Maria. So many people, all were locked away inside those walls. Why did I deserve to be outside?

  The music suddenly stopped. Silence suffocated me for a moment before the air was filled with the ear shattering alarm of lights out. It seemed to ring forever, filling the air around me in its engulfing vibrations.

  As it died out, I heard someone move behind me. The feel of cold metal on my wrists froze my breath mid gasp. The cuffs locked into place, painfully pulling my arms behind my body.

  He laughed. Stepping around me, I could see his face, smugly smiling.

  “Welcome home,” he said in a voice too smooth. He leaned in, his hot breath on my face. I felt tears sting my eyes. “I got you.” His lips closed the gap, painfully crushing down on mine before I could scream.

  The fog swallowed me alive.

  | | |

  My eyes snapped open.

  I could feel the sting of tears still in my tired eyes. Reaching up, I lightly wiped away the stray tear that had trickled down my cheek. My head still rested on Reed’s shoulder, his hand still lightly holding my knee.

  I covered the tears, pretending to rub sleep from my eyes. As I sat up, I could see the rays of sun that were rising over the earth. Carl was behind me. He was lost somewhere in his own insanity, without any idea that I was gone. Though he haunted my dreams, I knew I would never see him again. I still shook, regardless. The feel of his lips crushing against mine left a lingering sting.

  I looked out the window. We were driving past a city, its tall buildings glittering in the dawn.

  “Where are we?” I asked.

  Reed glanced over to the city. A river ran past it, reflecting the sun and the truck’s headlights in its slow moving surface. There were barely any lights on in the city. It looked fast asleep, as if it never planned to wake back up.

  “Portland,” he said, his voice distant.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said.

  “Yeah, it is. But we don’t want to stop in it. The cities… most aren’t safe now.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked. Of all places, the cities were supposed to be the safest. They were supposed to be filled with loyal citizens, patrols of the Nation’s officers keeping the roads clean and safe as life continued and thrived. My stomach tightened at the words that had been hammered into my mind my entire life.

  Reed lifted his hand from my leg and rubbed his eyes. He had been driving all night, with no break, and the exhaustion was obvious on his face. “The cities are where the people are. Too many people. Too many… enforcers.”

  “Too many arrests,” Eddie muttered.

  I turned and looked at him. His head leaned against the window, his eyes barely cracked open as they watched the passing city. He didn’t say anything else.

  We rumbled down the road, leaving Portland behind us. Cars would pass occasionally, always covered in rust and rumbling as if any moment they planned to give up and crumble. Every time one would pass, we held our breath. We shared the unspoken fear that one of the passing cars would turn on hidden flashing lights and pull us over. We didn’t need to share the fear out loud. The cab would just fall silent until the passing car disappeared into the dark.

  The truck started to sputter. Mumbling to himself, Reed glanced down at the gas gauge. It sat flat on the red line.

  “We need some gas, and quick,” he said. I could hear the rising nerves in his voice.

  At that moment, as if called into existence, a gas station emerged from behind a thick gathering of trees. Eddie sat up, his eyes scanning the surroundings as Reed pulled the truck alongside the gas pump. With a single nod to each other, they both climbed out before the engine had even quieted. I followed Reed, staying close to his side as we all scanned the station.

  A man stood inside at the cash register, carefully watching us. Trying to act casual, Eddie leaned against the hood as Reed started to pump gas into the old truck. Just as the gas pump clicked alive, the sound of tires crunching on pavement cut into the quiet air. We snapped our heads toward the source.

  A police car had just pulled in to a parking space in front of the station. The officer stepped out, hand on gun as he made his way inside. Eddie looked over to Reed, his eyes alert. “Let’s speed up that pumping a bit?”

  Reed heaved a sigh. “It’s going as fast as it will go, Eddie.”

  Eddie watched the pump a moment then looked back to the officer. He had walked out of the station, a soda held in one hand. The other hand still rested on his gun. He was about to turn to his car when he saw us and meandered in our direction instead.

  “Everything good over here?” The officer’s voice was low and clear.

  I could see Reed’s shoulders stiffen a moment before he let them relax, his easy gaze turning to the officer. “Just fine, Officer,” he said, a smile on his lips. “Just getting a fill up.”

  The officer nodded, still watching us carefully. “Can you believe these prices? Nine dollars a gallon. Seems a bit high, ya think?”

  Reed just shrugged. “Anything that betters the Nation betters us.”

  A thin smile spread on the Officers stubble covered face. His eyes wandered to Eddie. Recognition flashed across his eyes. Taking a step closer, he studied Eddie’s reddening face. “Do I know you?”

  Eddie shook his head. “Can’t say you do. First time in these parts for me.”

  “I swear I have met you before.”

  “Well, you know us redheads. We all look alike.” Eddie smiled and winked at the officer. I could see the forced lines of his smile. The lines seemed strange and foreign on Eddie’s face. His smile had always come so easy to him.

  The officer watched him a moment longer, then shrugged and turned his eyes to me. I could feel Reed tense beside me. The Officer just watched a moment, his eyes flicking down to the metal bracelet on my wrist. He smiled, tipping his head in my direction. “Well then, have a good day. Ma’am. Boys.” With that, he wandered back to his car and drove away. I thought I saw him speaking into his small radio, but the sun shone into the tinted windows and blocked even his silhouette as he disappeared around the corner.

  Eddie ran in to pay. Reed, his hand on the small of my back, led me back into the truck. The engine was already rumbling as Eddie climbed back in.

  We drove in silence. Reed kept glancing at Eddie. Eddie’s face had darkened, his eyes piercing as he stared out the window. “He knew me,” Eddie finally said into the quiet.

  “That’s impossible, Eddie.” Reed answered, his voice sounding like he already doubted what he said.

  Eddie shook
his head. “My mom always told me that my brother Bill and I looked like twins. Two years apart in age, twins in looks. Even in temper.” Eddie sighed, his breath shuddering. “That officer knew Bill. So, he knew me.”

  I glanced at Reed before looking back to Eddie. “Bill. He is in prison now, right?” I asked carefully.

  “My brother Bill was living in Portland when he got busted.” Eddie answered. “He had sniped a pack of cigarettes. In the old days, he would have been slapped with a fine and maybe a few days in jail.”

  I remembered what Reed had told me. Eddie’s brother had been sentenced to twenty years. Eddie finally looked away from the window, rubbing his eyes. I thought I saw the glitter of a tear, but it vanished before I could look again.

  “I guess there had been some prostituting on the nearby street corner. The cop that busted Bill reported that he had seen Bill interacting with the prostitutes. Turns out the group had just stolen a whole lot more than a pack of smokes. And Bill had had the luck of passing the group when they got caught. So he got locked away for twenty.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if that cop back there was the one who busted Bill. Wouldn’t be able to tell anyway. They all are the same.” Eddie tore his eyes from the city. “I hate cities.”

  “Stupid Po,” Reed said, smiling to Eddie.

  “Stupid Po,” Eddie answered, a smile cracking on his face. A quiet moment passed, they both chuckled. “Let’s get away from this place. How much longer, sir Captain?”

  “I don’t know,” Reed said. “Guess we just stay on this road. That’s what the signs say at least.”

  Eddie nodded, leaning his head back. “Want me to take a turn at the wheel?”

  “Are you kidding?” Reed laughed. “I’ve seen how you drive. We won’t even make it a few miles before you crash.”

  Eddie snorted, then leaned his head back against the torn headrest. The last glimmer of the city disappeared behind us.

  | | |