Lights Out

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Lights Out Page 7

by Nate Southard


  Meals came and went, and still Maggot refused to leave his bunk. The guards tried to make him, but he told them he wasn’t feeling well. They asked him if he wanted to go to the infirmary, and he told them he would be fine if he could just lie still for a while. The guards believed him, and they left him alone. Even Nicholas only gave him a brief glare before leaving, banging his nightstick against the cell door on his way. The clanging sound almost wrenched a scream from Maggot’s throat.

  Shortly after dinner--another meal he skipped, instead letting his cellmate take the simple peanut butter sandwich and apple--lights out finally arrived. Darkness folded over the cellblock, and Maggot’s cellmate wasted no time in raping him. Maggot just laid there through the ordeal, listening to the man’s hushed grunts, too frightened to be thankful it wasn’t Officer Nicholas inside of him. He watched the walkway, and when his tears came again, he thought he saw Dr. Wilson and the others again. Only this time they weren’t lying twisted and bloody on the floor. They were moving through the shadows, their forms hunched and their movements fast and mean. For the first time that day, Maggot made a sound. From deep in his throat a whimper crawled up, and it took all of his remaining sanity to keep it from becoming a scream.

  Nine

  The next morning, the bodies of Dr. Edward Wilson, Aldo Italiano and Chale Jiminez had disappeared.

  PART TWO

  One

  “Good thing we went to lockdown. Really kept the rule-breakers in line.”

  Darren watched Ron, waiting for him to acknowledge the remark. When his friend did, giving him the most cursory of glances before shaking his head and turning back to the trio of open freezers, he was shocked at how haggard and hollow the man looked. It appeared as though the events of the past few days had turned the warden into an old man before his time. His back had even grown the slightest bit stooped. Darren shook his own head. Seeing his friend this way did nothing but sadden him.

  “It’s bullshit,” Ron said. “All of it is bullshit.” He turned away from the freezer doors that either hung from twisted hinges or lay discarded on the tile floor, dented and scratched, and looked back and forth from Darren to Morrow and back again. A flashbulb went off in the background, the forensics team getting shots for the ensuing investigation. “This whole place is falling down around my ears.”

  “Get over your self-pity for a minute. Some bad shit’s happening, but you’re doing everything you can.”

  The warden rubbed a hand over his sweaty forehead. “Am I?”

  “What else is there to do?”

  “I wish I knew, Ron. Truly.” Darren gave his friend a pat on the shoulder. “Something will turn up. There’s no way these bodies could have gotten out of the prison.”

  “Unless they walked.”

  He turned to face Morrow, and he was sure Ron did the same. The correctional officer looked spooked, and his eyes zeroed in on the damaged freezers.

  “Ray?” Ron asked.

  “What? Look at those goddamn things! Somebody didn’t pull those off and then go stomping on them for jollies or whatever. Those things were busted open from the inside! I can’t be the only one here who’s thinking it.”

  “You are, Ray, and you might be crazy for saying it out loud.”

  “Come on, warden!”

  “Those bodies were dead. You were there with me, and you saw them. All three dead as goddamn doornails. They couldn’t have torn those locked doors open from the inside.”

  “Maybe they’re stronger when they wake up.”

  Timms frowned. “Don’t you say another word, Ray. Not one.”

  “The original ones disappeared, too. Do I have to spell it out?”

  “For the sake of your job, you’d better not.”

  “My job? You’d fire me?”

  Timms nodded. “If I have reason to think one of my officers is unstable.”

  “Unstable? I’m just… What other theories do we have? What other theories could there possibly be?”

  “Could be a prank for all I know. Could be some asshole stashing bodies and pulling shit like this in order to turn the whole place on its head. Whatever theories we might have, they’re part of an official investigation, and I don’t have to share them with you.”

  Morrow turned to Darren. His expression was a desperate one. “Father, come on. You see what I’m getting at, don’t you? It’s not crazy. You’ve got to know that!”

  Darren shrugged. “I really don’t know, Ray. I’m more likely to believe in a more mundane explanation before I take a leap toward the supernatural.”

  “But you believe in the supernatural. That’s your whole thing!”

  “I believe in the Divine. It’s completely different.”

  “That’s bullshit, Father, if you’ll excuse the Italian.”

  Darren stiffened at the remark. It stung like a thorn under a fingernail. He opened his mouth to speak, and he realized his lips were trembling. Anger began to rise within him, and he pushed it back down. He took a long, calming breath before speaking.

  “I’m sorry you feel like that, Ray.”

  Morrow shook his head. “I know that game, Father. That ‘I’m apologizing for you, not to you’ shit. I’m a little smarter than that.”

  “Good. I don’t want you to think I’m really apologizing. Not when I shouldn’t have to.”

  “Will the two of you stop?” Timms cut in. “I think I liked it better when you were ganging up on me.”

  Darren nodded.

  “Good. Ray, I want you to organize the C.O.’s into teams to turn Burnham upside-down. We’re not stopping until we’ve found those goddamn bodies.”

  “Right.”

  “Darren?”

  “I’d like to be available to the prisoners.”

  “How?”

  “I can take counseling appointments.”

  “They’re not getting out of their cells, Darren.”

  “That’s fine. I can go to them, whatever. I just want to be available if any of them need to talk. Maybe I can do something useful, rather than fooling myself."

  Ron gave him a glare, but Darren only looked a question back at him. They eyed each other for a moment, and the warden finally turned away.

  “Get going Morrow. I want those bodies recovered.”

  “Right,” the guard said as he left.

  Darren listened to Morrow’s receding footsteps, his eyes never leaving Ron’s.

  “You’re not going to hit me, are you?” Timms asked.

  “I’ve been thinking about it, but I’m pretty sure it’s a sin of some kind.”

  The warden cracked a smile. “Pretty sure? Aren’t you supposed to be an expert on that sort of thing?”

  “I’m Catholic. There are way too many sins out there for me to keep up with.”

  He kept his poker face going for a few seconds, but then the chuckles came, breaking through the mask. Timms joined him, and soon they were both laughing, making the forensics team stop and stare.

  “Does this mean you’re not pissed at me anymore?”

  “I never said that. I’m a priest, though. I can forgive you.”

  “Good to hear.”

  Timms motioned to the freezers. Their steel doors really had been beat to hell. They looked like they’d been tossed from the top of a mountain, hitting every single rock on the way down, only to land on a pile of lit dynamite. “So tell me the truth, Darren. What do you make of this?”

  “I really don’t know. I’m hoping the forensics team is going to turn something up that tells us who’s responsible. If they don’t find any fingerprints but the victims’, though...Well, if that’s the case I’ll have to see what else I’m willing to believe.”

  Ron nodded, letting out a slow hiss before speaking. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

  “Glad I could help.”

  “Listen, you want to get out of here? I’m getting more than a little creeped out, and we should probably give these guys room to do their jobs, anyway.”

&n
bsp; “Sounds fair.”

  Darren turned and started out the door, and Timms fell into step beside him.

  “I really am sorry.”

  “For what, Ron?”

  “For yesterday, saying you don’t make a difference here. You do. I’m just an idiot sometimes. Fucking job makes me lash out, I guess.”

  “I know.” He gave his friend a smile. “It’s okay, though. You’re forgiven.”

  “I get to go to heaven, then?”

  “I won’t make any promises. You can be a real asshole sometimes.”

  Timms flashed him a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Hey. All part of my charm.”

  Two

  “Missing?”

  “Yeah.”

  “No.”

  “I’m serious. They’re searching for them now. Doing it in teams.”

  “You’re shitting me.”

  “I got no reason to do that.”

  “Bullshitters don’t need a reason. I think we both know that.”

  “Wait for it to come through the grapevine, you don’t believe me.”

  “Maybe I’ll do that; maybe I won’t. I’ll let you know when I decide.”

  “You seem to want me to wait on you a lot.”

  “Of course. That’s the way this arrangement works.”

  “Right.”

  “So, three bodies go missing. Seems to be happening a lot lately.”

  “You don’t mind my asking; you have anything to do with it?”

  “What?”

  “One of ‘em belonged to you. I thought maybe--”

  “You thought wrong. Pull your fuckin’ head out of your ass.”

  “Did I touch a nerve?”

  “You’re goddamn right, you did. Maybe I should remind you that pissing me off is not something you want to do. I don’t forgive shit like that so easy.”

  “Sooner we find those bodies; the sooner lockdown ends.”

  “Who gives a shit? I didn’t have a thing to do with this.”

  “Fine. Sorry.”

  “That’s better. Tell me, you make your deliveries?”

  “Most of them.”

  “Most? You do what you’re told. Got me? I didn’t tell you to make most of your goddamn deliveries. I told you to make all of them.”

  “I’m not sure if you noticed, but dropping this shit off isn’t the easiest thing to do in the middle of a lockdown.”

  “Not my concern. I collect money; I distribute product. That’s the beginning, middle, and end of my responsibilities. Your responsibility is to deliver that product to whoever the fuck I tell you. If you can’t manage to pull that off, I’ll find somebody who can. You don’t want to get replaced in this operation, my friend. Termination doesn’t come with a severance package. Now, as soon as we’re done here, what are you going to do?

  “Well?”

  “I’m going to make my deliveries.”

  “Good. Gimme the roll you got so far.”

  “Sure.”

  “Not bad. Looks like you got the heavy doses, at least. Good boy. Now get out there. Engage in some goddamn commerce.”

  “Okay.”

  “That’s what I like to hear, Officer Morrow. That’s what I like to hear.”

  ***

  “God?

  “It’s me again, man. It’s funny shit, I guess. I used to be all ‘Fuck you,’ and now here I am, talkin’ to you twice in less than a day.

  “Yeah, I know it’s bullshit, a banger askin’ you for help. I feel like I need it, though. You get that shit, right? Gotta tell yo ass, when I asked you for help last night, I thought you was just gonna laugh right in my fuckin’ face. But you didn’t.

  “I’m still scared, though. Usually, I can handle anything, but that thing I saw, man… That shit’s got me spooked like you won’t believe. And I don’t care what the hacks try to tell me. I know what I saw, and that thing wasn’t human.

  “It’s just...Shit. I don’t even deserve your help. I know that. I’m really fucked up. It’s all I’ve ever....

  “Damn.

  “I... I killed a little girl once. It was a whole family--one of the East Side guys and his girl, their kid. She was so small. Diggs wanted me to handle her, so I did. Didn’t even argue.

  “It was so fucked up, man. This little girl--maybe four or five years old--she’s looking up at me and screaming and crying, just fucking begging me not to do it. ‘Please don’t,’ she kept saying. Over and over again.

  “I laughed at her before I did it.

  “Holy shit. I laughed at her. She didn’t even look like a person after. Her face was just...It was fucking gone.

  “But I kept laughing. I just couldn’t stop laughing. What kind of piece of shit does that? How the hell could--

  “Motherfuck!

  “I’m sorry! I’m just so goddamn sorry!

  “Sorry! I’m sorry!

  “I’m so sorry.”

  ***

  “Father?”

  “Yes?”

  “What are you doing walking around out here with us pieces of shit?”

  “The Warden won’t let me take appointments during lockdown. I’m making myself available to those who need me.”

  “That’s some serious dedication, Father. You got my vote, you ever decide to run for office or something.”

  “Thanks. Can’t say I see myself doing that, though.”

  “Me neither. I can trust you. You’d make for an awful politician.”

  “That’s a comfort, I suppose.”

  “It should be. Those fucks aren’t worth the papers they push around. I used to have a few on my string, keeping them in H.”

  “You’re not serious.”

  “I wish I could tell you more. Real interesting story. This doesn’t look much like a confessional, though.”

  “Omar, you’re one of the inmates I wanted to talk to.”

  “I guess that explains why we’re talking.”

  “I know one of the men killed yesterday was one of your people.”

  “Chale. He was a good kid. He could be a pain in the ass, but then again most of the young ones are. Latin blood, y’know. We got those tempers--least that’s what television tells me.”

  “I just want to make sure… You must be upset, and I know we spoke about this a couple of days ago--”

  “You don’t need to worry, Father. There won’t be any retribution by my hand.”

  “I hope you’re not just telling me what I want to hear.”

  “If you know me at all-–and I like to think that you do–-then you know I don’t do that. I’m always straight, and I got no patience for those who aren’t.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  “It fucking ought to be.”

  “So you’re all right, then?”

  “I wouldn’t say that, Father.”

  “If--”

  “Do me a favor, Father?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “A favor. I’m stuck in here until the lockdown goes away, or else I’d do it myself, so unless they decide to open these doors in the next few minutes, I’m afraid I need your help.”

  “You know I can’t move any contraband for you, Omar, and I’d have to report it if you asked me to do something like that.”

  “No contraband, Father. I just want you to deliver a message for me.”

  “A message?”

  “Yeah. I need to get some words to Anton Ribisi.”

  “I... What?”

  “Come closer, Father. I’ll tell you, but I have to make sure other ears don’t hear it.”

  ***

  “I’m the baddest muthafucka in the whole wide world.

  “I’m the baddest muthafucka in the whole wide world.

  “I’m the baddest muthafucka in the whole wide world.

  “I’m the baddest muthafucka in the whole wide world.”

  ***

  “Why do we get stuck with these little bullshit jobs, man? Aren’t there pros who handle this sort of thing?” />
  “Right, like Timms is going to shell out that kind of cabbage when he could just have us do it for our hourly.”

  “I don’t think it would be down to Timms to bring people in. It would probably be the State, wouldn’t it?”

  “The State, then. Or the Governor. Whoever. All I know is that it isn’t gonna happen, not for fucks like what we got here.”

  “We lost a guard and Dr. Wilson, man. They’re not prisoners. I would’ve thought they’d bring in the FBI or something, with those two dead and missing.”

  “You crazy? FBI wouldn’t come here unless we found Osama bin Laden hiding in the kitchen deep freeze. Hell, if they found out Burnham was gonna to get bombed, they’d probably just ask us and the rest of the staff to scram ten minutes beforehand, leave the trash behind.”

  “Shit, Nicholas. If I didn’t have to pay child support, I’d torch this place myself. Burnham gives shitholes a bad name.”

  “I heard that.”

  “I knew you would.”

  “Hey. Did you check behind that door yet?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s just a storage closet.”

  “And?”

  “And that’s all.”

  “A storage closet, dumbass.”

  “Yeah?”

  “What if somebody stored a stack of corpses in there?”

  “Oh. Right.”

  “Well? You got anything?”

  “Naw, man. It’s just a bunch of boxes.”

  “Nothing behind them?”

  “Nicholas, there ain’t room to put anything behind them. The boxes are right up against the wall, they’re not big enough to stuff a corpse in, and there ain’t any blood dripping out of ‘em. You want me to pull each and every one of the damn things out?”

 

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