Haven Ward

by Elias Witherow

  Titan sighed. It was like a gale blowing through the cell, “Well, that’s a tricky question there bud. I’ve seen some of the toughest mother killing maniacs kick the bucket on their first day. On the other hand, I’ve seen some real weasels survive for years.”

  “Just how long have you been in here?”

  Titan turned to me, “I don’t know. Time really isn’t a factor here. When you eat you eat, when you sleep you sleep, and when you have to kill, you kill. Those’re the only numbers on my watch.”

  “You kill a lot of people here?”

  “Let’s not get nosy there…Weston.”

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s forgotten.”

  I stared at my feet, “Listen. This isn’t like me to ask something like this…but could you help me out until I get a feel for this place? Watch my back? I know who I am here, how everyone sees me, I’m not stupid.”

  Titan seemed to chew this over, staring at me and mulling it over. Finally he said, “That depends kid. Maybe you do something for me and I’ll return the favor. That’s another thing you have to understand down here. Nothing’s for free.”

  “What would you want me to do?”

  Titan smiled, “Don’t get ahead of yourself. First things first. Why don’t you meet the dear ol Warden before we go on making long term arrangements. Something tells me you aren’t going to be here long.”

  “And why’s that?”

  “You killed Hazmats you little animal!” He cried jovially. “There’s no way the Big Don will keep you here. I give it a week and you’re down in Section 36.”

  “And if I’m not?”

  Titan licked his lips, “Well then, if you’re not, we’ll talk.”

  Chapter 6

  The door to our cell slid open, Progg standing there with two other Hazmats, waiting to escort me. They entered. I could feel the contempt for me as he came closer.

  “You give him a nice, warm welcome?” Progg asked Titan.

  “Oh I’m saving the sweet, sweet welcome for a little bit later, when I have more time,” Titan cackled. Progg seemed disappointed, but he pointed to the floor in front of him.

  “Come here, Weston.”

  I decided to play his little game, too damn tired to do anything else. I just wasn’t in the mood for another fist to the gut. Chains were slapped on me again, even tighter this time. I said nothing, just grit my teeth and took it.

  “Looks like someone broke the new rat in,” one of the Hazmats commented.

  “Oh we goin do more than that!” Titan played along. He threw me a quick wink. I was beginning to wonder if he was totally sane.

  “Let’s go prisoner.”

  I was led out of my cell, chains clinking as I walked, feeling unusually heavy, almost pulling me to the floor. I wondered if there was an iron ball dragging behind me. We went a new way, passing more cells, into Celsius block, then past a large open room with bolted down tables and what looked to be a very industrial kitchen. Another elevator followed, the dark shadows crawling down my face as we ascended.

  “We have to make a pit stop,” Progg said, leading me off the elevator.

  “We taking another shower together?” I threw at him. Maybe I was in the mood to get the shit kicked out of me.

  Progg just ignored me though, “You’re going to the Medical Wing to get checked out. And if you say one word about how you got those bruises, I’ll make sure you have a hundred more by the end of the day.”

  I snorted, “Oh I’ll do anything I can to keep you out of trouble, boss man.”

  Progg stopped, turning around, “If you want to make this place even more miserable than it already is, keep it up. But you’re going to learn real fast that it’s best to do what I say, shit stain.”

  “Blow me.”

  Right on cue, Progg slammed his fist into my gut. Alright. That one really hurt. I decided to keep my mouth shut for the remaining duration of this little party.

  Progg shook his hand, “Woo, felt that one right through the gauntlet.” He paused, leaning down to my level, “What? Nothing to say? No more smart ass comments?”

  I just smiled at him, trying not to throw up, trying to calm my stomach. Man it hurt. They continued to drag me on, passing more grated lights, more filth, more emptiness. Eventually we reached what I could only guess was the officer’s quarters. There was fake vegetation, the light was much brighter, a clean shining white illumination, and the walls were polished. The doors to the rooms had little windows into them, showing a carpeted floor, furniture, clean sheets and a bed, the whole works. If I ever got free, this would be the first place to strike, I noted to myself.

  Finally, after we passed the glamour, we stopped in front of a door, white electric lettering above it labeling it as Medical Ward. Progg punched in the pass code and as the door opened, I was hit by blinding light. The floor was spotless, a clean egg shell color, the walls matched, rows of beds lining them, a few littered with inmates, and a counter at the far end which held computers and file cabinets. Nurses wandered here and there, checking up on their patients, administering shots, taking blood, running tests.

  I was led to the counter, a gun barrel digging into my back, “New kid here needs processing.” Progg said to the nurse sitting behind it.

  She looked up, her young pretty face so innocent, “Alright, bring-” she paused seeing my bruised features, “Good grief, you guys did a number on him.”

  Progg chuckled, “No no, he fell down some stairs. Isn’t that right, Weston?”

  “Sure.”

  The nurse rolled her eyes, “Great cover Progg. It’d be nice if you’d give us some patients who weren’t half dead.”

  “Just process him. I’ll be back soon to get him. Make it fast, I’m taking him to see the Warden right after.”

  The nurse stood, “I’ll have Doctor Nadia on it right away. Unchain him though, will you?”

  I turned to Progg, “Yeah unchain me, will you?”

  Growling, the chains were taken off. Progg got in my face, his orange goggles glowing, “If you even think about hurting Doctor Nadia, I’ll skin you.”

  I smiled, “Wouldn’t dream of it.” Was there something here? At least I knew Progg had someone he cared about. Something I could possible exploit. As they left I turned back to the nurse, “They beat the shit out of me.”

  She nodded, standing, “I’m sure they did kid. Now look, don’t cause any problems ok? Just go over to bed three and wait for the Doc.”

  I threw her a wink, “Right away.”

  As I plopped myself down, the cool sheets feeling good on my skin, I scanned the few inmates who were in here with me. They all looked pale, skin stretched over bones, a sickly yellow color filling their cheeks. One of these inmates was in the bed next to me. I crawled up on my own bed, leaning towards him.

  “Hey. Hey what happened to you?” his face was nothing but a skull, his cheeks sticking to bone.

  His eyes fluttered open, looking around wildly before resting on me. He coughed hard, a thick oily substance dripping out of his mouth. He then spoke, “Get out of here.” His voice was cracked and broken, as if his vocal cords had been dragged through glass.

  “What’d they do to you?” I whispered.

  He closed his eyes and I thought he had passed out when suddenly he spoke, nothing but a shadow of a whisper, “What they’re going to do to you.”

  “Leave him alone, he needs to rest,” said a woman walking up to my bed. She was early forties, black hair falling to her shoulders. The glasses that rested on her nose matched her hair color, but the eyes behind them shined with a pearly blue glow.

  “You must be Doc Nadia,” I said, laying back on the pillow, hands behind my head.

  “And you must be Weston. They bring them in younger every day, it seems,” She said pulling out a chart and pen.

  “Can you get me out of here?” I ventured.

  She looked up from whatever she was writing, “Kid, if I had a tab every time someone asked that, I wou
ldn’t have to work here anymore.”

  I shrugged, “Figured it was worth a shot.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-three.”

  She rolled her eyes, “Don’t make this difficult.”

  I sat up, “I apologize for not being in a hurry to leave and ‘fall down the stairs’ again.”

  She sighed, “I wish there was something I could do to stop the guards beating on the prisoners, but I can’t. But you can. Keep your mouth shut and stay out of their way.”

  Sighing, I gently lowered myself back down, resting my head on the soft pillow, “Do you like working here? Isn’t it depressing?”

  She pushed her glasses up on her nose, “Look Weston, I understand you want to stay here, but I have other patients. Now can you please answer the question?”

  I blinked, “I forgot what it was.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Twelve.”

  She scratched something down on her chart, “Thank you. Have you ever consumed glu?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  She looked at me, “I’m going to take some blood in a little bit, I’ll know if you’re lying.”

  I spread my arms, “I’m not lying.”

  She kept writing as she talked, “Ok fine, relax. Most patients say the same thing you just did and then I take their blood and you know what I find? They’ve been using.”

  “I haven’t.”

  “That’s good. Now I’m going to check for broken bones, just lie there and be still,” She said, putting down the chart.

  I lay there, staring at the ceiling as her hands started pressing on my body, every time she did she’d ask, “Does that hurt?”

  When she was finished, she announced, “Well you have some severe bruising, but thankfully nothing’s broken. If I were you , I’d avoid getting beaten for a couple days. Even if that means staying in your cell all day.”

  “You mean I don’t have be in my cell all day?” The faintest glimmer of hope began to shine from a previously blackened canopy of defeat.

  “There’s some free time to wander around your block. And of course there’s the meals in the Grub Hall.”

  I looked at her hard, trying to get a new angle on her, “How can you work in a place like this?” I was hoping to throw her off guard.

  She looked deep into my eyes, not backing down, “I do what I have to do.”

  “What kind of answer is that?”

  “We’re all just trying to survive.”

  I shook my head, “Bullshit. I’m guessing you don’t come from the Gallows. Am I right?” She turned away, but I persisted, “Hey come on, answer me. Please.”

  She sighed, “They recruited me from Midtown. You happy? You going to lecture me now about what a spoiled bitch I am? You going to tell me horror stories about the Gallows so I’ll sympathize with you? I have my own problems, kid, and just because they might not be as bad as yours, they can still hurt the same.”

  I didn’t have an answer to that. I actually felt just a slight twang of sympathy, “Sorry,” I muttered. She said nothing, her face a stone slate. She stuck me in the arm with a needle, filling it with blood.

  “What’s that for?”

  “I need to know your blood type.”

  “Why?”

  She pulled the needle out, applying a cotton ball to my arm, “I just do, ok?”

  I sighed. I really could use this woman on my side. I reached out and touched her arm, “Hey, I’m sorry if I upset you.” I put on my best baby-eyed face, trying to look young and innocent. I imagined it was a hard sell considering the black and blue, beaten body.

  She seemed to melt just the slightest though. Her shoulders seemed to relax, “It’s ok. I’m sure you haven’t had an easy go at it.”

  Then the doors to the Ward opened and my least favorite person in the world walked in, his two guards in stride.

  “Let’s go dirt face,” Progg said, “You got yourself a date with the Big Don.”

  I hopped up out of bed, groaning as they put the chains back on me. It seemed a little unnecessary, but part of me guessed Progg just liked to make me as uncomfortable as possible.

  “He didn’t give you any trouble did he, Nadia?” Progg asked sharply.

  She shook her head, giving me a long stare. I felt compassion flow from her eyes, “No. He was ok.”

  Progg grabbed me by the shirt, “Then let’s go.”

  As I was hauled out, I felt Nadia’s eyes on me, gauging me. I hoped she would help me. She would be a valuable ally. Progg seemed to be extra rough as I was hauled to another elevator. I guessed he had been hoping I would be a smart ass with her so he could beat me again. Not like he needed an excuse, but it appeared as if Doctor Nadia had a leash on Progg. I tucked that bit of information into my ammo reserve.

  We took another elevator, the ride seeming to rise impossibly high. I guessed we were going to the top. I was trying to map this place out, but since everything looked the same, it was difficult. I needed to find someone who had been here for a long time and pick their brain about it. I thought of Titan but his mental state was in question, so I decided I’d keep looking. It wasn’t going to be easy. I assumed no one would want to talk to a little brat. One step at a time, I told myself, let’s just get through this lovely meeting with the Warden.

  As we reached the top, my eyes gazed upon something I hadn’t seen in quite some time. Sunlight. My eyes watered as Progg pulled the safety gate open, stinging tears rolling down my face. I sank to my knees, blinking, my eyes on fire. It was so bright! Clean perfect light, glowing with warmth. I tried to look at it but I shook my head painfully. The Gallows was shrouded day and night by a thick smog, with the sun only breaking through the muddy, overcast clouds a couple times every few years.

  “Oh get up,” Progg said rolling his eyes.

  “God, it’s…so bright,” I said squeezing my lids tighter.

  “You have two seconds to get to your feet,” one of the Hazmats growled.

  Blindly, I pulled myself up, wiping my face, using my arm to shade my eyes. The entire portion of Haven Ward we were in was glass. The floor, the walls, even the ceiling. I stared, the view pure beauty. It was as if were floating above the world, hundreds of feet below a damp blanket of angry gray clouds, sheeting the Gallows, covering it, hiding it from sight. I knew it was the Gallows because Midtown and Red City were just above it, their glorious construct a sight to behold. I had never seen the world from this view and it put everything in perspective. Red city was the furthest away from the Gallows, a perfect circular paradise, rising high above the rest, beautiful buildings, sharp and crisp, lined neatly around the perimeter. In the middle was what appeared to be a castle. I couldn’t quite tell from this high up. I knew now why they called it the Red City. The middle part of the city, the part I thought housed a castle, was blood red, seeming to shine as if God had pricked his finger and the blood had fallen on that spot.

  Midtown lay just outside of Red City, a crescent moon shape, hugging tight against its richer counterpart. Little ant sized dots buzzed around it and I guessed they were probably hovers. It was a lot smaller than the richer, scarlet city.

  The gray, cloud covered area had to be the Gallows. The air was suddenly expelled from my lungs as I saw that stretching past the Gallows was land and then…water. An endless, eternal stretch of ocean. The word was almost foreign to me. A person tried to explain it to me once, but I hadn’t quite grasped his meaning until now. It was beautiful. So calm, so peaceful, so free. I had never been outside the Gallows before and this was the closest thing I was going to get to total freedom. Just a glimpse. A taste.

  “Quite a sight isn’t it?”

  Still trying to clear my vision, trying to take in this majestic view, I turned to see where we were and who was talking to me. The elevator had risen into a vast room, all glass, but furnished like the officer’s quarters. There was a globe in one corner, a small table with a pair of matching chairs around it, a bookshelf, a
large desk that ran almost the width of the room, and a high back chair with a man in it smoking a cigar.

  “I know it’s quite a shock seeing the sun for the first time,” The man in the chair said. He was young, early thirties, with long blond hair and glasses. His suit was pristine, a shimmering blue with a neon orange tie.

  “What…the hell is this place? Where am I?” I finally managed to say.

  The man waved a finger at Progg, “Please, remove the chains, I want to at least be civil here.”

  Progg stepped forward, his goggles not quite glowing as bright as they had been earlier, “Sir, with all due respect, this kid is more dangerous then he looks. He killed two Hazmats down in the Gallows.”

  The man took another long drag of his cigar, blowing the smoke before saying, “Well I believe that was because your men tortured his sister to death? Am I correct?”

  Progg shuffled his feet, clearly uncomfortable, “Well the official reports haven’t come in yet and I don’t think-”

  The man cut him off, “Enough. Remove the chains like I asked, please.” He took off his glasses revealing sharp green eyes and then began to clean his lenses. Progg quickly released me. I breathed a sigh of relief, feeling like I was weightless.

  “That’s better,” The man said, putting his glasses back on, “I’m a big fan of civility.” I stood there, saying nothing, unsure what to do or say.

  “Oh forgive me!” The man said quickly standing, placing his cigar in a gold ash tray, “I haven’t introduced myself!” He strode over to me, his long legs making short work of the journey. Reaching me, he stuck out his hand, “The names Walter David Martin. I’m the warden of Haven Ward. Good to meet you son. Weston, am I not mistaken?”

  I nodded, taking his hand, blown away by this bravado of manners, “Yes. I’m Weston.”

  He released my hand, spinning back to his desk, “Excellent! Weston! Good name! Strong name! I think we’re going to get along just fine, Weston.”

  I couldn’t stop staring outside, at the wide openness of it. I didn’t care what this joker had to say, I was still his prisoner.