Slammer

by Tabatha Vargo

  A moment later, Dr. Giles appeared next to me and examined my work.

  “Nice work, Ms. Evans.” He nodded his approval. “How’s it feel, big guy?” he asked X.

  Apparently, he’d built a rapport with many of the inmates. X glanced at him and gave a brief head dip.

  Still, no words. It made me wonder if he was even capable of speaking.

  “Good. Then I think you can go back to your cell.”

  Dr. Giles was gone at that and once again, I was standing there with the beast. He stood slowly, his eyes burning into me, and he waited for the officers to assist him back.

  He moved away from me, limping a little as the guards flanked him. The space felt small with him in it, but as soon as he stepped away, it grew and I was suddenly able to get large amounts of oxygen. My head spun from the deep breaths I pulled in.

  They stood by the exit and prepared to put cuffs back on him. I looked away and shook myself. There was still work to be done and patients to be attended to.

  I turned away from the bed where I’d patched up X and started toward Dr. Giles to help with another inmate, but just as I did, all hell broke loose. The room lit up with red, flashing lights, and an alarm sounded.

  The entire room paused, everyone unsure of what to do next. We’d had lockdowns, but never with inmates in the infirmary at the time. My eyes flittered across the room, counting the amount of inmates in the room versus the amount of COs. Panic shot through my limbs. There I was in a room with dangerous criminals… and we were outnumbered. There were more inmates than staff.

  The sharp alarm pierced my conscious and my eyes scanned the room again, watching as the remaining staff fell to the floor.

  Men pray and women faint.

  Dr. Giles’ words moved through my mind.

  In other words, when the shit hit the fan the way it was now, get down. Get to the floor and cover your head. If and when more officers came running in, they would take down anyone standing or wearing khakis. That was the biggest reason the medical staff wasn’t allowed to wear anything khaki-colored. They would even go as far as sending you home at the gate if you did.

  Know your surroundings. Exits. Quick escape routes. You never know when you’ll need that information. This also includes fire extinguishers, fire alarms, etc.

  My legs collapsed beneath me, and my face stung against the cold Formica flooring. As I lay on the floor, I lifted my head and took in the room and all the exits. If I needed to, I could run, but the stupid doors were all locked… hence the word lockdown.

  The fear I felt before while looking into the eyes of a murderer was nothing compared the terror that swam in my veins now. I didn’t know what was going on outside the infirmary, but I was worried that soon we’d have a problem on our hands as well.

  Suddenly, we did.

  Two inmates jumped up and slung a tray of medical supplies to the ground. The tools clinked against the tile in slow motion, and my eyes took in the many things that could be used as weapons.

  Scalpels. Needles. You named it. Hell, even a harmless stethoscope could be wrapped around someone’s neck and used to choke them to death. Everywhere I looked, the medical instruments were available on the floor, begging the inmates to pick them up and use them.

  Of course, they went straight for the scalpels. They snatched them up and began waving them around the room, ready to cut someone. I closed my eyes and swallowed hard. This was it. This was the end of me—of Lyla Evans.

  What in the world made me think I could do a job like this?

  I was too soft. Too afraid of my own damn shadow. And now, I was seconds away from being slaughtered in a prison.

  The officers nearby pulled batons and pepper spray, hoping to deter an attack, but as I watched the scene unfold, I somehow knew those things would be useless against the inmates.

  I glanced over to where Dr. Giles had been. It was then I realized he had moved from the side of the room and locked himself in his office. His eyes locked with mine, and he motioned for me to join him. I could see his mouth moving through the thick glass as he told me to, Come On. Run.

  My brain screamed that word on repeat.

  Run. Run. Run, Lyla.

  With arms and legs that felt like Jell-O, I stood in the midst of all the chaos, but my feet were planted to the floor. I was able to stand, but the fear was too thick and I couldn’t move. Instead, I stood there like an idiot, hoping no one noticed me.

  The two officers that were guarding X came to help take down the maniacs with scalpels. I watched as the guys were brought down, and I felt like I could breathe again.

  Once I gained my composure and was able to move my legs, I started toward Dr. Giles’ office, but I stopped when something out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. Turning, my eyes locked with X’s. He stood there, shackled helplessly in the doorway, watching the scene before him. The inmates could’ve easily attacked him, and he wouldn’t have been able to protect himself.

  His expression shifted and his eyes softened, revealing something unexpected.

  Fear.

  X was afraid, and that didn’t suit him at all. A big man like him didn’t know fear. He didn’t experience those types of feelings. And yet, there he stood, not ten feet away from me with terror in his eyes.

  A strange feeling moved over me as I stood there staring at him. A feeling that I didn’t understand. It was heated and protective. Scary and dark. A feeling I instantly tried to banish. I couldn’t think of these inmates as anything more than chained animals. They were vicious and dangerous, regardless of the fear that swam in X’s eyes.

  I looked again and somehow, I knew. I just knew that the fear he was experiencing probably for the first time in his life wasn’t for himself. It was for me. X, the slaughterer of people—the taker of lives—the sick, maniacal monster—was afraid for me. The realization made the darkness inside of me shift, and for the first time since he entered the infirmary, I wondered if maybe X wasn’t as dangerous as everyone assumed he was.

  CHAPTER 4

  x

  FUCK. THE SHIT would hit the fan the minute the COs shackled me. It was my luck. There I was, standing to the side of the room with a big, red target on my chest and my arms and legs tied, literally.

  I knew it wouldn’t be long before one of the inmates pulled some stupid shit and took advantage of the lockdown. Having a lockdown wasn’t unusual. I was sure there was probably a fight somewhere in the prison, but this was the first time I’d been shackled during one.

  Maybe things would run smoothly. Maybe the COs would keep things under control until the lockdown was over. But my hopes soon crashed. Carlos moved, and then he was standing there with a scalpel in his hand. I knew it wouldn’t be long before that fucker stabbed me in the heart, and I wouldn’t even be able to defend myself. Maybe that was the way it was supposed to end for me. Shit, honestly, it was better than rotting behind bars. I stood straighter, taunting him to make his move.

  Looking across the room, my eyes met Carlos and I watched as the side of his mouth lifted in a malicious smirk. He was coming for me, and all I could think was, Bring it, motherfucker.

  I straightened my spine and waited for his attack, but then my view of Carlos was blocked when the new nurse stood. Ms. Evans, Dr. Giles had called her. She was standing in the middle of the room with two crazed inmates holding scalpels and four of the weakest officers on staff. And I could do nothing to protect her.

  I pulled against my restraints as realization moved over me. Carlos would have much more fun slicing her to pieces than he would me. She was beautiful and unflawed. Just the thought of the scalpel touching her milky skin made me crazy.

  Thankfully, my insanity lasted seconds. The officers were able to detain the inmates, and things went back to running as smoothly as possible. I was lucky for once. Instead of watching the new nurse get diced to pieces, I was being shuffled off to my cell.

  Once the officers left me to my sanctuary, I reached under my bed and grab
bed a loose screw from the frame. Standing, I looked over the wall in front of me and sighed.

  There were so many X marks. So many regrets. Carlos had gotten away with a few stitches, but the other guy I’d beaten pretty badly.

  Reluctantly, I etched another X into the concrete wall, scrapings of sand and my remorse falling to the floor at my feet. When I was done, I lay in my bed and reflected like usual. I was lucky the fight didn’t send me to the hole. I was sure it was because of my injury, but I was still thankful nevertheless.

  Reaching down, I ran my palm over my fresh cut. My leg throbbed with my heartbeat. Slinging my pillow to the foot of my bed, I propped my injured leg on it and thought of the new nurse. She was angelic. I couldn’t stop thinking about her fiery hair and emerald eyes.

  Why the hell would they let her work in a place like this?

  Why would she even want to work in a place like this?

  There had to be a way to get her to quit, if she hadn’t already. A maximum-security prison wasn’t a place for a woman like her. She was too pretty—too soft—too womanly. The inmates would eat her alive, and I couldn’t stand by and watch that happen.

  Feeling helpless wasn’t something I was used to, but for the first time since I was a nineteen-year-old punk, I experienced it. It was all because of her. It was terrifying. I couldn’t afford to feel like that when more than half of the prison wanted to see me break. If they discovered my weakness, I would be helpless to resist them. I’d been careful, not connecting to too many and keeping to myself, but the new nurse was going to throw a wrench into my life of solitude.

  I had no choice. I had to get her out of there if it was the last thing I did. She’d learn to fear me, hate me even. And when I’d pushed too hard, she’d run. At least, I hoped she would. Then she’d be safe and so would I.

  I lay back on my bed and settled my arms behind my head. My leg still throbbed a bit, but I pushed the pain away as I ran ideas through my head. Starting the next day, I’d put my plan into action. I gave her a week, if that, before she was running like a scared little girl.

  Bye, bye, little Red.

  I WASN’T SURE how long I’d slept, but I woke up to the sound of someone saying my name.

  “X, wake the fuck up, man.”

  I sat up cautiously, nervous that I was about to be taken off guard. It was dinnertime, and I could smell the food wafting in from the chow hall. My stomach rumbled and I turned, setting my feet to the cold floor. Looking up, I saw Scoop standing at my open cell door, ready for the chow line, and I relaxed a little.

  Scoop was one of the few people in the prison I was okay with. I didn’t talk to him much, but he talked enough for the both of us. Luckily for me, his cell was right beside mine, which meant some nights I’d fall asleep to his constant chatter.

  He’d come in three years after me on a bullshit self-defense charge. Apparently, killing the motherfucker who was trying to kill you was enough to get you fifteen years.

  “Fucking Carlos and his boys got you, huh?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  I didn’t bother asking how he knew. Scoop always knew everything, hence his nickname. Scoop had the scoop. If you ever wanted to know what was going down on the block or in the yard, he was your man. His memory was on point, too. He knew everyone’s records and the details of each of their crimes. I meant sick, twisted shit, too.

  He was vigilant—always watching and relaying the information to those who asked for it, which made him a dangerous adversary and fucking awesome ally. He’d saved my ass a few times just by threatening to open his mouth and reveal some fucked-up secret. No one feared him, but they definitely feared the shit he had running around in his head.

  The bad news was his knowledge also put a target on his back, which meant a few of the fights I got into were because I was protecting him. He couldn’t defend himself without a gun. He was small and fragile, which meant if he got near his attacker, he was done for.

  He’d earned more respect than haters though, which was a good thing, and he wore that respect around him like a suit of armor. It was kind of funny actually.

  I stood, my leg still aching, and worked the kinks out of my shoulders and neck.

  “You okay, man?” he asked.

  Again, I nodded.

  “A fucking paper blade to the leg… that sucks, bro. Does it hurt?” He stepped closer to my cell opening and leaned against a bar.

  I could hardly believe I’d missed the loud call for chow time or the clinking of my cell opening. Apparently, I’d slept like death.

  I shrugged, not wanting to admit how much my leg hurt. I trusted Scoop with my life, but if others found out how bad my leg was hurt, they’d use it as an opportunity to come at me again.

  He smiled and winked at me, understanding my reluctance. There were ears everywhere.

  “I said it’s chow time,” Officer Reeves said. He came up behind Scoop with his usual sarcastic smirk. “It’s not time for making love, ladies. Either you want to eat or you want to fuck. So move your asses.”

  I hated that son of bitch.

  Scoop chuckled to himself and started toward the chow line. “Come on, X. No ass for you today. I’m fucking starving.”

  He was being sarcastic, obviously, but Officer Reeves’ lips curled in revulsion.

  They left instead of waiting for me, and I was glad. I needed to feel my leg out and change. Flinching at my first step, I managed to walk without a limp after a few more, hiding the proof of my injury.

  Custody had slipped a fresh uniform in my cell while I was sleeping, so I quickly changed before falling in at the end of the line and walking down the stairs to the cafeteria. I deposited my bloody uniform into the laundry chute before meeting up with Scoop.

  We waited like children with our lunch trays in hand, and I took in my surroundings, reading the mood of the room.

  Dinner was everyone’s favorite part of the day, other than rec time, of course. The food was tasteless, but it was food. And sometimes during dinner, we’d get a dry piece of cake with something that resembled icing. It was a treat considering the alternative.

  Everyone was tired from the day, so dinnertime was usually more laid back and friendly. There’d be jokes among the groups and banter between friends and gang affiliations.

  Today, it was different. The mood was so tense you could cut through it with the cheap, plastic forks they made us use. I watched as at least two different gangs sized me up from afar. They eyed my hurt leg and grinned with conspiracy tight in their lips.

  Scoop picked up on the mood too. Once we had our trays full, we retreated to the side of the cafeteria to eat in silence. Once we were done, we went back to our cells and waited for lights out. The day had been a bust, one that included a nasty leg injury, but at least I had a new purpose. I had something to occupy my time, and that thing was getting rid of the new nurse.

  I’d given her my own kind of green light, and starting tomorrow, it would be her time to go.

  CHAPTER 5

  LYLA

  I WASN’T GOING to go back. After leaving the prison for the day, I spent ten minutes in my car, staring off into the nothing and thinking about how afraid I was of going back in there. I drove to my crappy, one-bedroom apartment in a total daze. When I got home, I searched the refrigerator, starving, only to find there was nothing in my place to eat.

  I wasn’t even Ramen noodle rich. There wasn’t a scrap of crusty bread or a piece of moldy cheese. I was broke—completely broke with no one to turn to. Even if there were someone, I was too proud to do so. Instead, I drank a big glass of water, showered, and went to bed knowing that no matter how badly I never wanted to go back to the prison, I didn’t have any choice. It was either work or starve to death on the streets.

  A benefit of working at the prison, however, was I was able to get a free breakfast and lunch when I was at work. Sure, it was food prepared by inmates. I didn’t even want to think about what was done to it, but it was food. The meals tast
ed horrible, but anything was better than the pain of starving. I had to eat it until I could afford to buy my own.

  Falling asleep within minutes, I slept like I hadn’t in days. I woke to my cell ringing on my bedside table. Looking at the alarm clock blinking back at me, I saw it was ten minutes away from going off.

  Great. I could’ve used that ten minutes.

  Snatching my cell from the table, I saw that it was my friend Diana calling. I’d met her the second day of nursing school. My bag broke under the strain of those ungodly large books, and she’d laughed and helped me carry them to my car.

  Park close to your classes and use your trunk as a locker, she’d said.

  Her words were a lifesaver over the next few semesters. It was impossible to carry around all those books.

  Over the next few days after that, we’d been in all the same classes. We spent hour upon hour studying and working on assignments together.

  “Hello?” I said into my cell.

  “Seen any ass fucking yet?” she asked with a chuckle.

  “Seriously?” My voice broke, heavy with sleep.

  “Yes, seriously. You work in a prison full of men who haven’t seen a naked woman in years. There’s some serious ass fucking going on in there.” She laughed.

  Shaking my head, I rubbed at my eyes and sat up in bed. “How’s the job hunting going?” I changed the subject.

  “Eh, it’s going. I have an interview today at University Hospital. What about you? What’s it like working in a max clinic?”

  I answered carefully. “It’s definitely different. It’s nothing like working in a hospital, I’m sure. There are so many rules you have to follow just to stay safe. I have to watch my back constantly, and I don’t know who I can trust.

  “We have lockdowns almost every day because there are fights all the time. We had one yesterday, and two inmates got their hands on a few scalpels. Luckily, the officers took them down pretty easily.”