Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a nurse hurrying towards my bed. Evan was about to say something, but I nodded towards the nurse and he stopped.
“Visiting time is over, boys,” the nurse said in a very bland voice without a smile. “Zac needs to rest now.”
I wanted to say, “Really I’m fine, they can stay,” but I knew the nurse would only argue and make them leave anyway.
So I just said, “See you later, guys,” and readjusted my pillows.
The nurse silently checked my vitals and wrote some things on a clipboard. She then stalked off like I’d been rudely hitting on her, only to come back with a tray of food.
“Uh, thank you,” I called as she hurried back out of the room. She was new, but it was a little unusual for me to be treated like that. Most of the nurses wanted to chat and sometimes they stole my fries. Maybe she was afraid of me.
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I looked down at my tray and sighed. It was better than the cafeteria food, but it wasn’t Mike’s wife’s enchiladas. No, it was a turkey sandwich on cheap wheat bread with a side of carrot sticks (no ranch dressing, of course), a cup of chocolate pudding, and a glass of milk. The turkey smelled fresh and the lettuce wasn’t wilted, the carrots looked and smelled fresh, the pudding was actually rather good, and the milk was both cold and less than two weeks old - a rather good meal compared to what was being served to everyone else. As I took a crisp bite of my (rather bland but safe) sandwich, I felt that it was almost punishment enough that Eric had to eat the food from the cafeteria.
I hoped he got food poisoning.
“How are you feeling?” the prison doctor asked me. I never caught his name, probably because he was one of the few staff members who really didn’t like me. I assumed he had some wimpy little kid like Jacob and thought I really had planned the whole thing. But he was a good doctor, and although he always looked at me with intense disgust, he did fix me up. In fact, I felt better than I ever had before.
“I feel really good,” I answered. “In fact, I feel great. I feel so much stronger than before.”
“Near-death experiences can do that,” said one of the nurses. She was the tall skinny one who was always nice to me. “I take it you have a new lease on life, right?”
“I guess you could say that,” I said with a shrug. “I do feel like I could do anything.”
“I hope you’ll be able to,” she said with a smile, patting my arm. Today was my last day in the infirmary. After breakfast, they were releasing me.
“Your healing is truly remarkable,” the doctor said, squinting at my papers. “It’s… like nothing I’ve seen before.”
“What do you mean?” the nurse asked, walking around my bed to look at my files. “Wow,” she breathed. “I should’ve checked his file more often. This is amazing,” she said, looking over the doctor’s shoulder.
“What’s amazing?” I asked, sitting up.
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“There isn’t even any scar tissue. It’s like it never happened. You’ve got more muscle mass than before, which is sensible in the ab area, but… you’re entire body has improved.
It’s like you spent two months in a rigorous exercise program, not the hospital.”
“Cool,” I said with a shrug. I knew I should feel more surprised, but for some reason I didn’t. It was like I knew he was going to say that. I knew I was breaking the laws of medicine. I just didn’t know why.
“Have you been taking any drugs?” the doctor suddenly accused. “Any experimental things I should know about?”
“No!” I defended. “I haven’t left this room in two months!” That was actually a lie; the nurses took me outside for an hour or two every day. But other than that, I’d been confined to the infirmary – a long, narrow room lined with hospital beds.
Usually I was the only patient, but sometimes inmates got sick and were sent there immediately to avoid spreading the infection.
“Then where is your real chart? Recoveries like these just don’t happen in real life,” the doctor snapped, glaring at me so intensely I could feel his anger.
“I swear I don’t know why it says that. I haven’t done anything I wasn’t supposed to.”
“Release him,” the doctor ordered the nurse. “We’ll see how recuperated he truly is.”
The doctor stomped off down the hall and slammed the door, taking my file with him.
“Why is he so angry?” I asked the nurse as she took my blood pressure.
“He’s right. Recoveries like yours simply don’t happen.
His son, Michael, almost died last year. He was nineteen and got stabbed in a bar fight while on vacation in Mexico. They flew him back the United States and saved his life, but he won’t ever walk again. Extensive nerve damage. Poor kid. That’s why Dr.
Guild is so angry; a criminal gets to heal and his son didn’t.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “So that’s why he hates me.”
“Only be sorry if you’re the one that stabbed him,” the nurse said with a sigh, putting the stethoscope back around her
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neck. “He took your chart so I’m going to have to find him to record your vitals. Stephanie should be bringing your breakfast in a few minutes, and you’ll be released after you eat. Be careful,”
she added before leaving the room.
I couldn’t wait to be released. They would be sending me directly to the yard; the perfect place the beat the shit out of Eric.
I had expected to feel weak and need to wait a few weeks at least before making my move, but I felt so good I couldn’t wait.
Stephanie, the nurse who seemed like she was afraid of me, brought my breakfast about five minutes after the skinny nurse left. She practically threw it onto my side table and bolted. I barely had enough time to call “Thanks” before the door was slamming shut.
After eating my freezer-burned waffles and drinking my rather pulpy orange juice, the skinny nurse came back with a set of clean prison clothes and a pair of white tennis shoes.
“You’ll need to change before I can take you back,” she said, setting the neatly folded pile next to me on the bed. She took my plate and pulled a white curtain around my bed so I could change. When I pulled my hospital gown off, I looked at my stomach. And then I took a double take.
I hadn’t really taken the time to look at myself since they’d taken the bandages off, and I really should have. The scars should have been smooth across my belly, but they were bumpy.
They were bumpy because I suddenly had abs. Like, six of them.
I stared at my stomach, wondering where the hell the muscles had come from. I hadn’t done any exercising for the last two months; there was absolutely no reason for me to have gained any muscle. But I had. Curious, I flexed my biceps. Sure enough, they bulged out much more than they should have.
After I changed, I pulled open the curtain to see Dan holding a pair of handcuffs. He smiled half-heartedly and held them up.
“Sorry, kid. Rules are rules.” He cuffed my hands behind my back and lightly grasped my arm to lead me to the yard.
“Damn, kid, you got buff. How’s the food been? I would’ve
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brought you something, but it’s a little harder to get around Dr.
Guild than the other guards.”
“It wasn’t bad,” I said truthfully. “It wasn’t your wife’s cake, but it wasn’t the cafeteria food, either.” Dan laughed a great booming laugh and brought me up to the yard door.
“You feel uncomfortable at any time, just holler,” he said gruffly, un-cuffing me. “Mike’s on watch today, and I’ll be up there in a few minutes.”
“Thanks,” I said, rubbing my wrists and waiting for him to open the door.
The sun assaulted my eyes and I had to squeeze them tight to keep from going blind. Dan gave me a good hard shove from behind and I stumbled out into the yard, hand
s shielding my eyes. Once I could see without tiny spots in my line of vision, I began to look for Eric.
Perhaps it was just nerves, but I felt weaker in the sun.
My eyes took much longer to adjust than they should have, and my abs ached a little. But I still felt strong.
I finally spotted Eric sitting on a picnic table reading a book. It was weird to see the guy who nearly stabbed me to death reading a book. I assumed he would be lifting weights or beating up other inmates, not doing anything studious.
He looked up a few seconds after I saw him, as if he could feel my gaze. We locked eyes for almost a whole minute before he folded the page corner of his book and closed it gently, never taking his eyes away from mine. He laid the book on the table and stood up, challenging me.
I took his challenge.
We walked towards each other at a comfortable pace until we were about a foot apart.
“You look a little pale, Seeker,” Eric said coolly. “The sun bothering you?”
“Seeker?” I asked, a little taken aback and confused.
“You shouldn’t stay out here long; the sun is Holy,” Eric said with a maniacal grin that not only freaked me out but kind of pissed me off. What the fuck was he talking about? Was he some kind of religious nut?
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“You’re fucking crazy,” I said.
Suddenly I was against the brick wall fifty feet away, Eric’s hand at my throat. I had no clue how I’d gotten there, but it was shaded. I suddenly felt ten times stronger.
“I will do anything to protect the Palace,” Eric said, his face inches from mine. His hand squeezed tighter and tighter on my throat, cutting off my air supply.
“Get off,” I managed to say. I put my hands on my chest and shoved as hard as I could. Eric’s hand was ripped away from me and he shot ten feet across the yard, landing hard on his butt, dust rising up around him. I sucked in three huge, painful breaths before stalking towards him.
“I see you’ve tasted your powers,” Eric said with a laugh, standing up and dusting off his hands. “I will not hold back, then.”
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” I said, only a few feet away, “but I’m really pissed at you.”
I pulled my fist back and slammed it into his face, knocking him down. I grabbed his collar and lifted his face so I could hit him again.
His face was already bloody, just from that one blow. His nose looked broken and was streaming blood down his lips. I hit him again, just under his eye. I felt something crumble under my knuckles – I cracked his cheekbone.
“I’m sorry, Ares,” I heard him weep as his head lolled back from the second punch.
“You nearly kill me and you apologize to a Greek god?” I screamed, slamming his face again. He screamed in agony as I felt his cheekbone literally break in half – blood trickled out from under his eye and the left side of his face looked sunken in, like someone had punched it in. And someone had.
I had.
Suddenly four strong arms gripped my shoulders and tore me away from Eric. Blood was smeared all of the left side of his face and down his neck, and he was crying and gurgling, his face so damaged he couldn’t spit the blood out.
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Dr. Guild and the nurse who didn’t like me came running out in to the yard followed by two guards carrying a gurney.
I kicked at my captors – Mike and Dan – as they dragged me back into the building. I had just enough time to notice the extensive crowd that had gathered around Eric and I. Everyone except the guards, Dr. Guild, and the nurses was staring at me in awe.
I had done it; I had beaten the living hell (possibly the life) out of the biggest, baddest guy in the joint.
“What were you thinking?” Mike shouted once we were inside. The two guards let go of me, but they were now standing in front of me screaming their heads off.
“You twisted little bastard; we respected you!” Dan cried.
“You know you’re going to solitary, right?”
“He’s the one who cut you, isn’t he?”
“Why didn’t you just tell us?”
“You might have killed him, you mother fucker!”
“You’re not above the law just ‘cause you’re in with the guards, douchebag.”
I stood there silently, a blank look on my face, and listened to everything they had to say. I felt like a little kid who’d just run out into the street and almost gotten hit by a car. I knew the only reason I wasn’t already in solitary was because Mike and Dan cared about me; I was so touched I almost cried. That is, until Dan said:
“You’re just like your father.”
“I am nothing like my father,” I growled, my voice so heated and angry I nearly scared myself. Dan blinked and shut his mouth. “My father is an evil bastard who beat me half to death nearly every day until he went to prison and he put my mother in the hospital more than once. Don’t you ever compare me to my father.”
I stood there shaking, my hands balled tightly into fists, anger swirling around inside me like trapped smoke from the fire raging within me. I felt a heavy buzz creeping along my arms and up into my head, like you get after a few dark beers. Everything
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felt sharper – the sound of the heater, the feel of the air on my skin, the smell of dirt and concrete.
In truth, it scared me a little. But I was so enraged by being compared to my father that I didn’t have the capacity to register the fear.
“Come on, Zac,” Mike said, gently taking my arm. I wanted to jerk away and beat his face in, like I had with Eric, but I didn’t. I let him lead me down the hallway, leaving Dan staring after us looking hurt and disappointed. I looked back after him, finally letting the tears go.
“I’m sorry,” I called.
“I – I know you are, kid,” Mike said, patting my shoulder as we rounded a corner and Dan disappeared from view. I turned to look at Mike.
“I don’t know what happened,” I said truthfully. The buzz had gone, and now I felt guilty and afraid. “I just couldn’t – I didn’t want to stop. It just felt right.”
“I won’t deny that Eric deserved a decent ass kicking, but you literally beat his face in. I don’t even know how you did it.
No offense, but you’re nice and scrawny compared to that guy.
He’s easily got fifty pounds of muscle on you, even after your little growth spurt.”
I lifted my left arm, the one not being held by Mike, and looked at my bicep. It was bigger than it had been, but it wasn’t huge. Eric’s were easily twice the size of mine. How had I done that to him? I didn’t just break one or two of his teeth off; I literally broke his skull. How is that even possible?
“Listen, Zac, I don’t mean to accuse you of anything, but… you’re not… taking anything, are you? PCP? Steroids?
Anything?”
I wanted to be offended, but I couldn’t. So I just laughed.
“No, Mike, I’m not on drugs. I don’t know what happened. I left the infirmary and I just felt… so… strong. Like I could take on anything, anyone. I didn’t tell anyone Eric’s the guy who attacked me because I was embarrassed he got away with it. I wanted to defend my own honor, not be a snitch. That
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wouldn’t help me at all. If anything, it’d make my life even harder, especially after Eric got out of solitary.”
“I understand, Zac, I do. But did you really have to nearly kill him?”
“He nearly killed me!” I shouted, wrenching my arm out of his grasp and stopping. “Why am I getting in so much trouble?
He made a goddamn weapon and nearly stabbed me to death! So I broke his cheekbone, big fucking deal!”
“Nobody saw him,” Mike said with a shrug. “I believe you, but we have no proof. There’s nothing we can do.”
“You know how fucking crazy this is, right? Eye for an eye,” I said, nearl
y poking my eye out as I gestured to it.
“It doesn’t work that way, Zac. You should understand that by now.”
I huffed angrily, but defeated. Regardless of what my version of justice was, Mike and Dan were right; I was not above the law. I should’ve took my beating and threatened Eric some other way, a smarter way that got him in trouble instead of me. I wasn’t a genius, but I was smart enough to figure out something like that.
Luckily for me, the warden thought my remorse was legitimate. I was also pretty sure Mike and Dan did a lot of pleading for me. My lawyer was also breathing down the warden’s neck about making me available to go to my hearing. So I was stuck with only two weeks in solitary.
Solitary confinement is worse than you think it is.
Spending two weeks in a ten by ten room with no one to speak to, nothing to do, and only one tiny window for sunlight will drive you insane.
I kept myself busy by turning my bed on its end and standing on top of it to look out the window. The window –
which was about eight feet off the ground, hence my needing the bed to stand on – was on the street side of the prison, so I got to watch passing cars and, on occasion, a person or two. I was extremely boring, but it helped keep my mind off being alone.
When my food came, I ate it as slowly as possible; not only to
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waste time, but because the food was so awful I had to convince myself it was something delicious or I’d throw up.
I slept often, and when I wasn’t sleeping, eating, or people watching, I tried to work out. There wasn’t much for me to work out with, so I started with push-ups and crunches. When I got to the point where I got bored of push-ups before my arms even started to burn, I put my feet on the bed to add extra weight.
By the second week, I had hiked my legs up so far on the wall I was practically doing a handstand.
So I started bench pressing my bed. It wasn’t that heavy, but keeping it steady was a bit of a challenge. I was doing over one thousand crunches a day, and my jumpsuit and t-shirt were fitting a little tightly.
The scars on my stomach were also a little bit bumpier; there were eight little mounds instead of six.
The day I was released from solitary, I felt like a total badass. Not only had I needed to move up a size in my prison clothes, but everyone was now afraid of me. I had gained complete respect.
Night Prowler Part One Page 21
