by Mary Deal
“Why? Abi, why?”
“Pray, Megan. Word will come through. You've been cleared.”
“What if the Governor doesn't call in time?”
“Pray, Megan, pray.”
The guards ushered Abi out of the cell. One accompanied her toward the doorway leading to the inside of the prison. Megan was escorted toward a doorway in the opposite wall. Abi turned to look back again as Megan stiffly walked in leg irons and chains. “Megan!” Abi wanted to reach out and hold her again.
Megan turned to look back. “Mother-r!” She tried to lift her arms against the short restraints. “You're the only mother I've ever had!”
“Pray, Megan.” Abi screamed as the sound of their wails reverberated off the walls. She nearly collapsed as the door closed behind Megan and the guards.
On the way back to the waiting area, Abi stuck another nitro tablet under her tongue. She and Joe paced the small waiting area till their energy was spent. Someone brought coffee, donuts and two soggy prepackaged sandwiches on a tray. They drank the coffee. Joe ate half a sandwich. They listened and stared at the TV screen broadcasting its parade of horrors. Neither spoke. They had already said all that they could say. Joe tried making several phones calls. Abi tried. Det. Britto and Emery could not be reached, most likely, having turned off their cell phones to avoid being disturbed. They would make any calls needed when they had something to say. The long wait became unbearable. Just as Abi thought she might fitfully scream, a door opened.
A man in uniform poked his head into the room. “It's time. Follow me.”
Abi jumped up faster than Joe did. “Time? The Governor called?”
The man only shook his head. Each glanced at the clock on the wall. The TV news counted down the hour.
“This way please.”
“It's twelve thirty in the morning!” Joe, too, was on the edge of losing control. “Hasn't the Governor called?”
She and Joe were relieved of their personal items and Abi made sure she still had nitro wrapped in a tissue in her pocket. They were led into the empty hallway. “Where are we going? Can't you tell us anything?”
Joe grabbed the guard's shoulder and tried to position himself ahead as he walked swiftly and said little. “Where are we going?” He grabbed the guard's shirtfront. “Where's Megan?”
In one fluid motion, the guard pulled out of Joe's grip, withdrew his nightstick, and waved it in the air. “Keep your hands off me!” He stood, almost crouching, ready to strike.
Quickly, Joe stepped back. “I-I'm sorry, so sorry.” He gestured apologetically with both hands.
“You can come quietly, or you can stay up front till it's over. The Governor has not called.”
“No!” Abi stopped walking. “Call the Police Chief, please. Det. Britto was there when the two guilty people were identified.”
“I don't know anything about that, lady. The Governor still has time to call, but until then, we're obligated to follow procedure.”
“Which is what?”
“The prisoner goes into the execution chamber on schedule.”
“That's torture.” Abi raised her fists into the air, luckily not standing close to the guard. “Don't you understand? She's not guilty and you people are letting her believe she's to be executed.”
“Like I said, you come quietly or not all.” The guard rapped his palm with the nightstick. “You decide. You're the ones who want to be here.” He stood waiting with his feet spread apart. Both hands clutched the baton at the ready.
“Go… we'll go.” Abi motioned that they should continue on. “We're all she has.”
As the rigid guard continually rapped the nightstick against his palm, they walked another long empty hallway. The prison had its own scent that made her gag. About half way, they changed directions entering into the forlorn back chambers. A maze of sliding security doors awaited them. Each closed behind them before the one ahead opened.
The guard turned suddenly to face them. “After it's over, there's a long hallway outside the execution chamber that will take you back to the hallway that leads to the waiting area.”
So what was the purpose of leading them through a series of nerve shattering barred steel doors that clanked shut behind them each time they passed to another room?
Chapter 59
Abi dabbed at her eyes. Finally, they were shown into a small room and the sight made her nearly collapse. About a dozen people waited beside windows exposing the interior of the lethal injection chamber. Three women wore business suits and the rest were men. Some stood, some sat. All talked low. Stan Yates was not among them. Several members of the media stood along the back wall already drawing on their sketchpads since electronics of any kind were forbidden.
All the murmuring ceased as Abi and Joe took the two seats in front pointed out by the guard. Abi sat on the edge of her chair, whimpered, and clung to the railing in front of the seats, unable to take her eyes off the gruesome chamber interior.
A narrow black vinyl-covered mattress lay atop a sterile looking hospital type table. Movable arm supports with restraining straps hugged both sides. Four wide restraining straps lay neatly placed across the main pad, one for the person's chest, one for the hips, another across the thighs, and one for the ankles. So what did they expect the person to do once it was all over—get up and walk away? Then Abi remembered something both Yates and Megan had said, about twitching and jerking when the heavy dosages of chemicals are administered. She moaned and covered her mouth as the woman in the next chair leaned away from her.
The viewing windows had been outfitted with drapes. Missing was the ominous three sectioned metal box that Megan talked about, the one with three buttons so no one would know which of the three people might have delivered the fatal dosage. A black piece of cloth, looking more like a bag, lay on the edge of a tray on a small table at the head of the gurney. Two tubes ran from the tray through a hole higher up in the wall behind. One was for the sodium pentothal to knock the person out; the other to deliver the chemicals that would kill. Abi's mind reeled. What could be connected to those hoses that lay on the tray on a small table covered with a white cloth? Surely it was the needle. Did they really believe they were being compassionate by hiding what they were doing? A monitor stood on the other side of the bed, to which the prisoner would be hooked up and which would disclose the cessation of vital signs. Sterile death, supposedly humane.
On the wall by the door below the clock, the obligatory red phone gleamed.
Abi glanced at the woman next to her and realized the gaze of all the spectators were upon her. She instantly despised them. What right did they have to watch? None were related. By their participation, they were just as much murderers as all three people who would deliver the final dosage. She shook her head and dropped her gaze to her lap. She whispered and nervously glancing at her watch as Joe glanced at his.
“Joe… why?” Her voice quivered uncontrollably. She began to perspire.
“That damned Governor.” Joe kept his voice low. “What's keeping him?”
Abi began to shake all over. “I don't under—”
“Where's your medicine? Did you take a nitro?”
“I… uh… yes.”
“Maybe you'd better take ano—”
Suddenly the door inside the chamber opened. The tempered glass of the chamber window muffled the sound. An older man wearing a business suit entered and then began checking the equipment. He lifted the white cloth on the tray, inadvertently giving everyone a glimpse of the IV syringe connected to the tubes. Something else lay beside the needle that Abi could not identify in that brief second. She shook her head and glanced at her watch again.
“How can the damned Governor put an innocent person through this hell?”
Joe sat with a fist clenched atop the railing. “This can't be happening… not going to happen.” He continued to softly pound his fist till Abi thought he might suddenly whack it.
The man inside the chamber loosened all the be
lts and let them dangle. Then he threw a thick absorbent looking paper sheet over the black vinyl mattress and secured it. Never once did he look or even glance toward the viewing window where he surely must have known people watched his every move. Surely he couldn't have performed these tasks so many times he didn't care anymore? Or was he simply ashamed of his vocation?
Abi rocked back and forth in her seat and had great difficulty keeping from standing and leaning over the railing and banging on the chamber window. “What if he calls too late? Joe, she's innocent. What if she dies here?”
“He has to call. Megan's innocent. There's nothing more to it.”
The two women next to her must have heard Joe's comment. He turned to speak to them. “She's innocent.” He gestured with both hands meaning to show that was the end of it. “The witness wrongly identified her.”
Abi turned to see the two women and some others listening but seeing with only blank stares. She turned her back to them. “That damned Governor!”
The door opened yet again and the same minister that visited Megan's cell was directed into the room. He positioned himself in the corner out of the way.
“Any holy man who would have this job, is only a ghoul in disguise.” Joe spoke as if he wished all to hear.
The door swung open again and two guards accompanied Megan into the room. She was clad in something like a white hospital gown with a pale blue floral print. The gown bulged around her hips.
“I don't believe it!” Abi heard her voice quiver. “They've got her in a diaper.” She put her hand over her mouth and remembered Megan's offensive description: Muscles relax. You pee, you crap your pants. Tears spilled down Abi's face.
Megan saw her and dragged the guards with her to stand at the large window. Her desperate, frightened expression begged. “Why?” She screamed over and over, but her voice was barely audible through the panes. One of the guards unlocked her handcuffs but both stood beside her, each holding an arm.
Abi leaned far over the railing “Pray, Megan!” She leaned farther, trying to press her hand against Megan's on the glass. “Pray!”
Megan mouthed the same message. “I'm innocent.” With the guard still hanging on, she tried to put her hand up to her ear as if holding a phone receiver. “Where?”
Abi could only shake her head and open out her hands, then covered her face as she began to sob.
The ankle cuffs were removed. Megan was pulled away from the window and lifted bodily as she struggled, and forced to lie back on the mat. The older man and the guards held her arms and legs. Her lips moved continually. They quickly restrained her extremities as she tried to kick and flail again and again. The belts were fastened across her torso. Then the sensor pads were stuck to her body. into which electrode leads inserted.
Megan turned her head toward the window. She stopped screaming. Tears rolled into her dark glossy hair as her head was forced still. Her secured hands grasped only air as she doubled and redoubled her fists.
One of the men picked up what seemed to be a black cloth bag and opened it out and then tried to pull it over Megan's head. She frantically twisted and turned her head away from him, her screams more audible. Finally the man stopped trying and laid the bag onto the edge of the tray.
The guards left the room and the middle-aged warden entered. Not surprising was her barrel-like figure, drab gray suit, and face like a bulldog. She backed herself against the wall beside the minister opposite the foot of the gurney. The man attending Megan looked at his watch and motioned for the minister to approach. No one in the viewing chamber moved or uttered a sound.
The minister bent over Megan and Abi was not able to see the exchange between them. Abi stood and groped along the railing the length of the window for a view that might enable her to understand what was happening. She stumbled over people's feet and was rudely pushed against the guard rail.
Megan talked rapidly and cried. The minister tried to calm her, nodded and rubbed her forehead. She kept rolling her head from side to side. Finally the minister straightened, clutched the Bible with both hands, mumbled a bit and stepped away.
Abi had to use the railing for support. Megan watched as Joe pulled her back toward her seat.
The inner chamber door opened again. A middle-aged doctor wearing a long white coat with a stethoscope around his neck entered and spoke indiscernible words, all the while fastening a rubber tourniquet around Megan's forearm. Abi glanced at her watch. Joe looked at his. They looked at the wall clock inside the cubicle above the phone, where the warden moved to stand ready in case it rang. They checked their watches again.
“Oh, please.” Abi begged and closed her eyes only a second. “Please don't let this happen!”
Joe could only stand and support her. She refused to sit down. People behind peered around them. Now Joe cried openly. “Forgive us all.”
Abi leaned forward and spoke softly, making sure she mouthed the words so Megan could understand. “Pray, Megan.”
The doctor looked at the wall clock. The other man nodded and flipped a switch as the cardiogram that sprang to life with pulsating lights on the monitor. The extender to which her left arm was secured was moved to angle away from the bed. Her torso and legs were then covered with another thin disposable sheet and tucked under the edge of the mattress.
Methodically, the doctor thumped Megan's arm to bring up the vein, then implanted the cannula, the instrument Abi had not recognized and which had lain on the tray beside the syringe. Megan winced and began to cry again. She clenched her fists. The muscles in her face twitched horribly as the doctor taped the cannula securely in place.
Abi held to the railing. If Megan had to die, this would be the only way she could be with her through it all. “Someone's going to pay for this innocent life!”
Suddenly she and Joe were being forced to sit down by a man in uniform. “You'll have to control yourself, lady. Stay in your seat and be quiet.”
Megan strained to maintain eye contact. The clock read five minutes until one o'clock. The last five minutes of Megan's life.
The doctor attached the IV lines from the wall into the cannula and stepped away leaving Megan in full view. While the doctor and the warden huddled together in conversation, not a sound or movement came from anyone in the viewing area.
Megan opened and closed her fists and struggled against the restraints and continued to scream, “I'm innocent! Innocent!” Her face turned red. The veins on her neck stood out. It was surreal to watch her struggle, barely hear her screams, and not be able to help.
The entire sphere of activity seemed suspended in time. A few short minutes remained; ample time to receive the life-saving call.
Finally, about a minute before one o'clock, the doctor moved again to Megan's side. The minister crossed to the opposite, mumbling prayers. The warden stood pressed against the wall. Megan ignored them and kept eye contact as best she could.
Abi's body began shaking fiercely. “I tried, Megan. I failed! Forgive me!”
The doctor glanced at the wall clock and shifted the stethoscope hanging around his neck.
With only seconds left, Megan lifted her head and tried to see the clock. The look on her face was one of total disbelief. Suddenly, her head fell back. Her jaws stopped clenching. She looked straight up at the ceiling. Her fists relaxed. Her eyes remained open, unblinking. Had they just administered the sodium pentothal and knocked her out?
A guard began to draw the curtain closed.
Chapter 60
“Bastards!” Joe screamed, his voice garbled and hoarse. “You bastards!”
Abi stood with hands tightly clasped. “No-o! No-o!” She glanced at her watch. Someone yanked her arm.
“Come on.” Joe dragged her away. “Someone's gonna pay for this. We're gonna make sure of it.”
Abi could resist little. She had to get as far away as possible. A guard opened the door and they rushed down the hallway. The onlookers would remain inside till death was pronounced.
&nb
sp; “Ghouls!” Joe screamed back toward the doorway. “All of you!” He screamed one long terrifying wail and pounded his fists against the wall. He continued to kick and throw his fists as a guard tried to subdue him. He shrugged off the guard and ran down the hallway. Abi ran after him. The guard let them go. In the waiting room, they snatched their jackets as they were handed to them and Joe grabbed his cell phone and her purse and still they kept going.
When the front doors were opened, a blast of bitter cold hit them in the face. A light snow was falling. The throng at the front gate was cheering. She and Joe rushed toward the Range Rover and when they were close enough near the fence, what they saw and heard stopped them cold.
Half of the group was disbanding, gathering up their coolers and belongings and retreating silently, like fans that had rooted for the losing team. The others who stayed continued to wave the placards touting the inmate's innocence and to yell and joyously chant. “Megan lives! Megan lives!” One man continued the chant as he fell to his knees in the trampled snow and clung to the outer fence.
Abi felt confused. Megan's memory would live on. She and Joe would make a public example of her case, to drive the point home about innocent people being put to death.
Then someone threw up his arms and screamed at the top of his lungs. “Megan's free!”
Joe seemed as confused as she did. Finally, they trudged through the snow to the inner fence and yelled till they got someone's attention on the outside of the outer fence. Some in the group recognized them and pressed against the fence and yelled their thanks again and again.
A man wearing a heavy jacket and fur lined hoodie yelled above the raucous. “The Governor made the call.”
“Called?” Joe yelled, cupping his hands to project his voice. “He called in time?”
The crowd continued chanting, “Winnaker is innocent. Winnaker is free.”
A group of young people chanted. “Praise for the Governor.”
