Learning the Hard Way 2

by H. P. Caledon

  “And you choose to go ask a minister for this information?”

  “Well, I didn’t come see you because you’re the minister. You’re one of the few not running the halls and talking in riddles, but it’s also obvious that you didn’t get here yesterday.”

  “If God wanted me elsewhere, He would show me the way out,” the minister said. “Are you a God-fearing man...”

  “Keelan.”

  “Keelan,” the minister said, smiling.

  “I think God hates me.”

  “Or tests you?”

  “Well, God works in mysterious ways, so that might be an option, I guess. But my cellmate was just murdered in the shower.”

  “And you would like for me to send his soul back to God?”

  “Don’t know if he’d like that. Problem is, no one knows who did it. Or so they say.”

  “What is on your mind?”

  “Revenge,” Keelan muttered. “He was a good friend. Didn’t belong here.”

  “Ah, do tell,” the minister said and leaned forward.

  “Nothing is free... is it?”

  “I am but a man, even though I pass on the word of God. My mortal soul has the same urge to sin as any other.”

  “And my request?”

  “What can you offer—”

  “What do you need?”

  The minister looked at him for a beat. “What gifts did God give you?”

  “Depends whether you’re Catholic or an Orthodox—”

  “I’m a Disciple of the Fallen.”

  “Churchburrow?” Keelan exclaimed.

  “You know of us?”

  “I was raised by Fallen Disciples,” Keelan said, schooling expression to not show the disgust or rage.

  “Ah, then you and I are brothers,” the minister said and smiled.

  Nope, and if you believe the shit they told us then you have a serious draft problem in your skull.

  “May I see your bible? Mine was lost.”

  “With a brother, I will share.” The minister handed his bible to Keelan, who turned it over in his hand and leafed through the first pages.

  “It’s the original,” Keelan said, looking up.

  The minister nodded proudly.

  Keelan considered how he could turn the situation to his advantage, but it took a minute to recall the right wording. “God blessed me with the ability to protect myself. He made me strong and with a true moral compass, as I have only once promised something I haven’t fulfilled the terms of, even though I wanted to,” Keelan said and thought about his promise to himself about killing Rainer slowly.

  “To protect your friend?”

  “No, I didn’t promise to protect him. I just did anyway,” Keelan said quietly and looked at his hands still wrapped around the minister’s bible.

  “A strong moral, I see. With a brother, I will share. And I, in return, hope that you will share God’s gift for you with me?”

  Keelan smiled without nodding or shaking his head—no promises.

  “God gave me knowledge. What knowledge do you seek, my brother?”

  “Would you come with me?” Keelan asked and handed the bible back.

  The minister got up and walked with Keelan to the shower room, where someone was moving Jasper’s body to wrap in an old tarp.

  “Leave him!” the minister said.

  Everybody stopped their doing and stared at them.

  “Leave us.”

  Everyone did as the minister commanded, and Keelan closed the door behind them.

  “Irgang is a city in its own right. God moves Sodom and Gomorra after His own wishes. A place for the sinners.”

  Keelan just nodded and kept silent while the minister prayed over Jasper’s body. Keelan didn’t pray—not out of lack of respect for Jasper, but lack of respect for the version of God the minister was praying to. Once done, the minister turned to look at Keelan.

  “I’ll see what I can find out for you.”

  Keelan nodded and collected Jasper’s clothes before kneeling by Jasper to finish wrapping him up. “Where does the body go?”

  “To the transit doors.”

  “I can’t find my way back there.”

  “Follow me, my brother,” the minister said and opened the door. Keelan pulled the body close and swung it over his shoulder before he followed him through the labyrinth. They ended up by one of the doors, and Keelan recognized the shoe still lying on the floor.

  The minister knocked on the door, hard.

  “What do you want?” a voice asked from a speaker somewhere.

  “We bring you a dead body,” the minister said. A door opened, and Keelan stepped in and gently lowered Jasper to the floor.

  “How did he die?” a guard asked as he and another approached the cell.

  “Someone killed him in the shower room,” Keelan said, recognizing him as having been present when Keelan had been let into the maze—the one with the good-natured expression.

  “Do you know by whom?”

  “No, but I’ll introduce you once I find him or them.”

  “That would be in no one’s interest,” the guard said.

  “It would be in mine. Jasper was my friend. And as far as I know, you guys don’t have isolation cells for us if we misbehave. Correct me if I’m wrong.”

  “You’re not wrong, but this prison has almost been depopulated because of an intern war. It started much like this.”

  “The majority doesn’t even care. They just walk around and mumble about an exit that isn’t there. That’s their world.”

  The guards exchanged a glance and nodded, and Keelan got the sneaky suspicion that they were just humoring him.

  “He was really a good friend, wasn’t he?” the other guard asked.

  Keelan looked down, noticing that he was stroking the body. He pulled his hand back and slid down to sit against the bars.

  “Yeah,” Keelan finally said, quietly. “What are you gonna do with him?”

  “Identify him, report him dead, and bury him. But you can’t attend the funeral.”

  “I said my goodbyes. He had a family. A little girl. Can you find them? Ask them if they want the body home?”

  “We’ll try. You better back out again. We can’t remove the body before you’re out again.”

  Keelan nodded and left the transit cell. The door shut and he was cut off from hearing what happened on the other side.

  The minister put his hand on Keelan’s shoulder. “Come. I’ll take you back to your cell.”

  “Thanks.” Keelan followed him and was led all the way back to his own cell.

  “Oh, my, is he still alive? I haven’t seen him in ages.” The minister walked to Keelan’s blind cellmate. He put his hand on the blind man’s head as if blessing him. “He thought the way out would reveal itself to him if he took his eye off all the misdirection. So he gouged out his own eyes.”

  “Aha,” Keelan mumbled and looked at the cellmate who, as always, huddled in the corner and drew lines on the floor while rocking apathetically. “What’s your name by the way?”

  “Johannes. I changed my name once I left Mr. and Mrs. Churchburrow.”

  Keelan tried to figure his age, and he looked to be about fifty, so there was no chance of them having shared that hell at the same times.

  Keelan jerked awake, once again covered in sweat, breathing heavily, and feeling disorientated. Without any idea of what time it was, Keelan took his bowl and made his way to Johannes’ cell. Not much light came through the glass roof, so it had to be very early. But he needed to talk to Johannes now—while the dream was still in his system—so he knocked on the door.

  It took a moment, but Johannes finally answered.

  “It’s Keelan.”

  “You are up very early, brother. Please, come in.”

  Keelan stepped in and saw Johannes straighten his pants. He wasn’t alone, because Keelan saw someone move under the blanket.

  “As I said, my needs are as real as the next man’s,” Jo
hannes said when Keelan didn’t hide his interest for what the blanket hid. “Come on out.”

  The blanket was pulled aside, and a young, pretty face was revealed. He looked embarrassed.

  “I should come back later. I don’t want to share this with more people than I have to.”

  “Bill, go ahead and take a shower,” Johannes said. The young man got to his feet, donned his clothes quickly, and left the cell. Keelan chose to lean against the wall, not interested in sitting on the bed. Johannes sat on the cell’s only chair and looked expectantly at him.

  “Jasper once said something about ministers being able to help interpret dreams. Can you?”

  “What do you dream?”

  “Right before I was sent here I was told that... I have a kid. I dream that I’m running the maze, looking for the child. It calls to me. In here.”

  “It?”

  “I don’t know its gender. The kid yells Dad, I’m right here, while all the prisoners just zombie on and tell me to keep left, and all the drawings on the walls are that of a child’s hand. You know, happy and colorful.”

  “I see, and what is the dominant feeling you have when you wake up?”

  Keelan stared at a spot on the floor for several minutes, once again trying to identify the feeling he woke up with. He glanced at Johannes, whose eyes held patience and compassion, but also something Keelan couldn’t identify. He didn’t care much, either.

  “Confusing feelings, I guess, but when I’m in the dream, I have this yearning to find the child. To keep it from harm.”

  “I see,” Johannes said, nodding to himself.

  “Does it make sense?”

  The food alarm went off, and Johannes moved quickly while Keelan ran into the hall, fishing out his bowl. He scraped a good deal into his bowl and into his pockets before he stepped aside, making sure Johannes got a spot. They then went back to Johannes’ cell.

  “You put quite a lot into your pockets,” Johannes commented.

  “Big body, needs lots of fuel,” Keelan said and laughed drily. “Plus, the blind man can’t get food for himself, so I get it for him.”

  “You’re a good man, Keelan, which is also the answer to your dream. You search for the child, which in this case represents the exit. You can’t fulfill your expectations to yourself of protecting the child from in here. So you have to get out.”

  Keelan mulled it over while eating his breakfast. Some of it made sense.

  “Last night, the dream changed a bit more. There have always been changes... little details.” Keelan hesitated, because it really got weird. He looked at Johannes, who still had that patient expression. “When I got caught, I killed someone. He was in my dream this time, and he was helping me. Pointing me in the direction of the child.”

  “Okay. That makes no sense to me, as I cannot imagine the two of you to be good friends or even trust each other since you killed him. He must represent a hindrance then.”

  “Or a choice. A wrong decision,” Keelan mumbled. Johannes didn’t ask, but Keelan saw the curiosity burn in his eyes. “I’ll just end up another nutball who can’t even find his own ass.” Keelan snorted angrily.

  “The exit is real,” Johannes said, looking determined when Keelan met his gaze. “Someone found it once, but he got caught. They lobotomized him and put him back in here, and he still walks the halls.”

  “Who is he?”

  “Finish your food, and I’ll take you to him. If I can find him, that is. Despite being lobotomized, he still knows these halls better than anyone, and he has a knack for disappearing.”

  “Okay, but we should swing by my cell with food for the blind man,” Keelan said.

  “Merlin. The blind man’s name is Merlin.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Keelan sat at the edge of his bed and leafed through his pretty sparse notes.

  So much had happened since Jasper’s death almost a year earlier. Merlin had died, too, and Keelan had carried the body to the transit doors. He still hadn’t found the ones responsible for Jasper’s death, but he was still looking. Two others had moved into the cell. The youngest—Danny, who was in his early twenties—seemed totally unprepared for life behind bars. It was his first time, Keelan had learned.

  The other one, Walter, was a guy Keelan had put in his place twice now, and Walter still limped from the last lesson. He shouldn’t automatically think Keelan was interested in gang-raping the young man just because he was accessible in their cell.

  That Danny had offered himself to Keelan numerous times had just made the situation weird. Keelan wasn’t proud of having given in to Danny’s sexual advances, but Danny was happy about it. Keelan couldn’t help but feel he was taking advantage of the young man because he depended upon Keelan to keep him safe.

  Walter was furious about it, though, because Keelan had locked him out of the cell the few times he’d been seduced by the young man. After that, Keelan kept Danny close, as he didn’t want him to suffer the fact that Walter was a horny old bastard. Keelan had refurnished the cell, so he and Danny slept in a double bed. That way Keelan would wake up if Walter tried anything. The downside was that Danny tried to get Keelan to spoon with him.

  An arm slipped leisurely around Keelan’s waist, and he turned to look at Danny’s smiling face.

  “Why are you up so early? Did you dream again?”

  Keelan nodded and felt Danny’s grip tighten. The young man’s care and attention warmed Keelan’s heart and his guilty conscience, and the feeling of abusing him disappeared gradually.

  “I just gotta check on something.” Keelan stroked Danny’s arm. Danny turned his head to glance at the sleeping figure in Walter’s bunk.

  “Can I come?”

  “Yeah, I shouldn’t get any ideas,” Walter growled.

  Okay, so Walter wasn’t sleeping.

  “Well, that’s easy. If anything happens to Danny while I’m gone, I’ll hold you responsible, personally. I don’t care if you did it or not,” Keelan said and tried to stand, but Danny didn’t let go. Keelan hesitated for a beat. “Get dressed, Danny, you’re coming.”

  “Look, you might be some prime-shit killer and a mean brawler, but one day you’re gonna miss. It happens, and you can’t keep tabs on everything all the time,” Walter said and turned to glare at Keelan who really just wanted to kill the idiot to not have to listen to him.

  “Haven’t missed yet,” Keelan said.

  “You’re the one who tried to dice that bounty hunter, right? The one assisting in your capture?”

  “Ratkins? I didn’t even get a chance to kill him, so I hardly think that counts as a miss,” Keelan spat.

  “No, the other one. Matthews.”

  Keelan froze at the mention of his name. “What?” he finally asked, staring at Walter.

  “Wasn’t that his name? The one you tried to slice in half on Verion four?”

  “I saw him bleed out.”

  “He didn’t bleed enough, I can tell you that! He collected my bounty.”

  “Mike was... isn’t a bounty hunter, he’s a merc.”

  “What the hell?” Walter got to his feet. “Are you on a first name basis with that motherfucker?”

  Keelan didn’t answer and noticed Danny’s gaze on him. “Are you ready?” Keelan asked him. Danny nodded. “Then let’s go. Remember your bowl.”

  Keelan stopped and leaned against a wall with Danny, who wasn’t in as good shape as Keelan was.

  “Are you looking for the exit?” Danny asked.

  Keelan just nodded.

  “Do you even think it exists?”

  “Considering my sources? Yeah,” Keelan said, remembering the guards’ exchanged glance and evasive answers the day Keelan had brought Jasper’s body to the transition cells.

  “Don’t people just go nuts? Isn’t it just a rumor to keep people too busy to fight? At least that’s what I heard,” Danny said quietly and looked down.

  “Guess if you can balance it, then it’s hope. If it becomes too much
, then it becomes an obsession, and then you go crazy. The guy who found the exit is still here, walking the halls and talking in riddles. I followed him for about a month until he began repeating himself. I even found his symbol on the walls, and it’s starting to add up.”

  “You gonna take me with you?”

  Keelan looked at Danny who was smiling hugely, but his eyes held no hope.

  “If possible, Danny, then yes, I will. But until the last pieces of the puzzle make sense, you’re gonna learn how to fight.”

  “Are you going to teach me to fight?” Danny asked, laughing.

  “Yeah.”

  “Damn, I gotta be gold in bed!”

  Keelan looked at Danny, surprised, but he just smiled more widely.

  The food bells sounded.

  Keelan smiled to himself as he studied Danny, all sweaty and focused. They were in their cell alone and had been training for the past hour.

  “Attack,” Keelan said. Danny seemed to think too much about what he wanted to do, and every contemplated move was revealed in minute changes in his body—the amount of weight he put on one foot or the other, pulling a shoulder back just a bit, or his hip or head or hand. Keelan focused on the center of Danny’s chest to catch all these details.

  Danny finally attacked, roaring. The door opened, and Walter walked in behind Keelan, who in turn stepped to a side so that Danny’s fist hit Walter right in the nose.

  “Beautiful!” Keelan exclaimed and pulled a baffled Danny behind him before Walter came into the cell, blood running from his nose, and bellowing.

  “Get out of my way! I’m gonna fucking skin that whelp!”

  “Nope,” Keelan said, laughing, “your bad timing entering the cell isn’t gonna be his problem. He was trying to attack me.”

  Danny snickered, and Walter attacked. Keelan let him get past so he could jump him from behind and lock his arms. Keelan then fell to his knees, taking Walter with him to the floor.

  “Danny, could you shut the door,” Keelan said.

  Danny did, and returned to stare at Walter, who was still fighting against Keelan’s iron grip.

  “Those weak points on a body I showed you? Try them out.”