Zombie Lockup Series (Book 3): Caged 3

by Buda, Chuck

  Chapter 9

  Muncie stormed into C-Pod. He glared at the inmates as they watched him enter without any hesitation. Behind him, Muncie’s men scrambled to fan out in a show of force. A sloppy wall of shields, batons and rifles formed around the perimeter.

  A report of a dead prisoner in C-Pod interrupted his taking a shit.

  Jack Turk stared with arms folded across his chest. Muncie licked his chapped lips with feverish anticipation. He couldn’t wait to throw gasoline on the fire. If he could work Jack into lather, then Muncie’s dreams could come true.

  Jack Turk alone in a cell with a monster.

  His ire spiked when he noticed Jack hadn’t flinched. Muncie got within inches of Jack’s face and the man refused to back up or drop his folded arms. It was as if Jack had no fear of him. That would have to change.

  A grin slowly spread across Jack’s mouth. Muncie felt the dander on the back of his neck stiffen.

  “Wipe that shit-eating grin off your face before I do it for you.” Muncie faked a head butt. Jack remained stoic. “You know it’s only a matter of time before you lose.” Muncie forced a smile before his grimace returned.

  “I won’t give you the satisfaction, Muncie. Besides, I know I can’t win when the deck is stacked against me.”

  Muncie shuffled in a tight circle. The taste of anger strong on the back of his tongue. “Did you like the little show, Jack? I did that just for you.”

  Jack finally lowered his folded arms. He stepped back inside his room and leaned against the bunk. “It was very impressive. A bunch of monkeys jumping up and down. And tell me, Muncie. How many of your tough guys did it take to drag that little lady in there?”

  Muncie gritted his teeth. He could feel the shavings of enamel grind away. He glanced at the dead body lying on the floor.

  “I doubt it was a fair fight.”

  “That’s rich coming from you. You’re the dirtiest fighter I’ve seen, Jack.”

  Muncie stepped toward Jack. Again, the man refused to flinch.

  “You can’t compare my fights with hers, Muncie. After all, you are an extremely formidable opponent. I have to use every tool in my arsenal just to survive.”

  Muncie felt confused. Jack’s demeanor suggested he was defiant. Yet, he just admitted that Muncie was the better man. Some of the vitriol in his blood flowed away as he tried to figure out Jack’s angle.

  He nodded at the body. “You know killing a man earns you a ticket to the hole. Perhaps we can bypass that trip and move you straight to the cage.” Muncie felt his dick harden at the prospect of watching Jack get mauled by a zombie.

  “We both know I didn’t kill Joker. If I did it, don’t you think I would have dragged his body to the door and shown it off? I like to claim my work and use it to advance my purposes.” Jack sighed and rubbed his hand through his hair.

  Muncie bent to inspect the body. He recognized the man as Joker. The crazy one. He wondered what Joker did to piss Jack off. Maybe his endless chatter finally got under Jack’s skin.

  “If you didn’t kill him, then who did? The Easter Bunny?”

  Jack chuckled. “It’s cute that you still believe in those fairy tales.” He leaned forward and whispered at Muncie. “It was BJ.”

  Now it was Muncie’s turn to laugh. Jack expected him to believe that a dead body, in his own room, was left by the low-life redneck? And to top it off, Jack was snitching? No way in hell Jack would break the universal code of prison life and rat out another prisoner. Even if the man had done the deed. Muncie knew he was being fed horse shit. But why?

  “What’s the real story, Jack? If I think you are bullshitting me then I will personally drag your ass down to the cell.” He stepped closer to Jack. Muncie wanted to smell the words coming from Jack’s mouth so he could detect the scent of shit.

  Jack maintained eye contact, glancing back and forth between Muncie’s eyes. “Joker tried to finish 8-Ball’s fight with BJ. And he lost.”

  “Fuck you, Jack.” Muncie shoved Jack backwards. He followed Jack’s momentum and kept jabbing his finger in his chest. “That crazy nigger wouldn’t give a fuck about 8-Ball or any other asshole in here. You’re fucking lying to me.”

  Jack held his hands up in mock surrender. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Ask anyone. They witnessed it.”

  Muncie hocked up a wad of phlegm and spat it upon the crumpled body on the floor. “Oh, right. And you’re just the stool pigeon rolling over like a good little inmate for the benefit of the joint, I suppose? I’m going to enjoy watching you get eaten by those rotten fucking corpses. And when they finish chewing on you, I’m going to fuck your ass so hard, your ghost is going to walk bow-legged.” Muncie grabbed Jack’s neck and slammed him into the bunk.

  Jack succumbed to Muncie’s abuse. His body gave no resistance. Muncie’s enjoyment dissipated. He loved the fight and without a struggle, the violence had no fulfillment.

  Muncie released Jack’s neck. He stepped back to figure out what was going on. He knew in his gut he was being played but he couldn’t detect the angle. Muncie had been in Warsaw too long to accept words on their own level. Every word was laced with double meaning, hidden agendas, and scams. Jack Turk was no different. Especially with the history they shared. No way in fucking hell Jack would roll over like this.

  Jack stood up and faced Muncie. He placed his hands in the air. “You can take me if it makes you feel better. But I swear I didn’t do it.” His sincerity bewildered Muncie. “I’m not going to fight you anymore.”

  Muncie’s blood boiled beneath the surface. It felt like his veins were rising through his skin. His breathing became erratic. Bubbles of saliva gathered in the corners of his mouth.

  “It’s true.”

  Muncie’s heart skipped a beat. He spun to find the redneck with the out of fashion mullet standing in the doorway. Muncie sniffed at BJ as the man cowered under his gaze.

  “I...I killed Joker. He came at me and I did it. It was an accident but I accept my punishment.”

  Muncie glared over his shoulder at Jack. He still had his hands in the air. Muncie returned his gaze to BJ. He knew the story was a lie. But how did Jack get somebody else to cop to it? Jack held sway over the prisoners but any man would have fought to the death against Jack rather than give in to his plan. Wouldn’t they? Better to die at the hands of your oppressor than allow someone to finger you for something you didn’t do.

  BJ dropped his eyes to the floor. Muncie wished he could punish Jack and BJ. Suddenly, his mood lifted. Muncie had an idea. Maybe he could punish them both. He smiled as he realized he could have what he wanted.

  Chapter 10

  “I told you to shut the fuck up.”

  “Whatchoo gonna do to me, old man? I will fuck your shit up, bitch.” Frenchie slapped at Melvin’s chest. He tensed as he feared Frenchie’s voice would be overheard a few doors down where Muncie and Jack carried on.

  “All I gotta do is say the word and that big honky muthafucka come in here and put your lights out.” Melvin pointed toward Swede who watched from the center of the pod.

  “First you kill Joker and now you threaten me? I ain’t stand for this shit, you Uncle Tom muthafucka.” Frenchie tightened the knot in his faux bra. He began to spin toward the door. Melvin was forced to grab his arm and halt his progress.

  “Listen, pole-smoker. We gettin’ out this damn place and you ain’t gonna fuck it up for all of us. You understand me? Whole lotta muthafuckas in here got something to say ‘bout you if you fuck this up.”

  Frenchie tried to free his arm from Melvin’s grasp. Melvin squeezed tighter and pulled Frenchie within an inch of his nose.

  “Don’t test me, bitch.”

  Frenchie squealed under his breath. He tore his arm free of Melvin’s grip. Swede nodded back at Melvin and approached the room. He towered over Frenchie in the doorway.

  “You big, honey. But I’m faster and I slip past you with no problem.” Frenchie placed a gentle hand on Swede’s chest as if to caress the larger
man’s body. Swede clutched Frenchie’s hand and twisted it down, forcing Frenchie to kneel before him.

  “Ohhhh, no need to play rough, sugar. Frenchie will suck that tiny white dick real good.” Frenchie winced at the pain in his hand as Swede continued to apply pressure.

  Melvin leaned into Frenchie’s ear. He spoke softly to avoid being overheard.

  “You think we ain’t figured out what you and Joker was up to? You lucky to still be alive right now, muthafucka. If Jack had his way, you’d be dead with that crazy ass nigga in there.”

  “Man, try a breath mint once in a while. Your mouth smells older than your ass.” Melvin read the fear in Frenchie’s eyes even though his words tried to mask it. Melvin caught a glimpse of his lips trembling.

  “You think that crazy ass nigga kept your secret? He tell the wall crazy stories if it listened to him.”

  “I don’t know what you talkin’ ‘bout.”

  Melvin chuckled. “Sure you do. You and Joker was going to try to pull an end-around. But while he was filling your pretty mouth with his dick, he was also filling us in on the plan. You are one dumb, horny muthafucka.”

  Melvin watched the betrayal wash over Frenchie’s expression. He found himself enjoying the moment. Usually Melvin liked to stand aside and let Jack or someone else do the dirty work. But Melvin had reached the end of his patience with the other prisoners. And Warsaw Prison. He realized his hopes of living much longer hinged on Jack’s plan. And Melvin agreed to do whatever it took to see it through. If he was going to die anyway, he might as well go out with a bang instead of slowly rotting. Or worse, being fed to the rotten.

  Melvin stood and nodded at Swede. The mammoth being released his grip on Frenchie’s hand. Frenchie rocked back on his heels and rubbed his mangled paw. He shot Swede dirty looks while he nursed his hand back to life.

  “Ain’t no way this is going to work. That cracker is nuttier than Joker if he thinks he can fool Muncie. Or Gorgon. We ain’t never be freed again. Jack ain’t Lincoln.”

  Melvin snickered. Frenchie’s characterization brought a touch of humor to the tense moment. Melvin composed himself and crouched down next to Frenchie.

  “Look. You wanna die in this place? You wanna wait for the whole damn place to be filled with zombies? I’m not becoming a snack for some dead thing. And I don’t believe you want to be either.” Melvin continued without waiting for Frenchie to respond. “Think about being free to do what you want out there. Be with who you want. No more rules and walls keeping you in place. Hm?”

  Frenchie massaged his hand while he stared at the floor. He looked as though he was about to burst into tears. Melvin saw the tremors in Frenchie’s shoulders.

  “I’m scared, Mel. The whole world is gone to shit. And I don’t think I’m gonna make it.” Frenchie sniffled and tears began to flow down his cheeks.

  Melvin started to feel sorry for Frenchie. He hated the man but he always had a soft spot for people when they cried. He rubbed Frenchie’s back for a second before realizing the gesture might paint the wrong picture.

  “We all scared. But if we stick together then we gonna get outta this shit. Jack’s my friend and he wouldn’t lie to me. He always been straight. And if he says we are gonna get outta here then I believe him.”

  “What about last time? His plan didn’t work and they took more food away from us. Whatchoo think is gonna be different this time?” Frenchie used the back of his good hand to wipe away snot from his nose. “Ain’t no guarantees in here.”

  Melvin contemplated Frenchie’s point. He knew Frenchie was right. But if there was no hope then the plan was destined for failure. Melvin believed this time would be different. And he knew it was their last chance. If the plan went south this time, then it would spell the end for all of them. He knew Muncie was close to the breaking point. And he wouldn’t stop after killing Jack. Muncie would keep going until nobody was left. That was the kind of man Muncie was and Melvin didn’t doubt his resolve.

  Swede helped Melvin stand up. His knees crackled as he rose and Melvin groaned at the knots in his lower back. Aging had been tough on him and now he had to fight his way out death’s dark door with a body which was a fraction of it what it once was. Melvin sighed and poked his head around Swede’s shoulder. He couldn’t see Jack or Muncie across the pod. But he could hear their voices. Melvin strained to understand the words. The volume was too low for him to make out what they were saying.

  Melvin whispered a silent prayer to himself as he nudged his way past Swede. BJ approached Jack’s room and spoke in the doorway. Melvin’s stomach tensed as he understood the pivotal point in this plan was under way. BJ’s confession to gain access to Jonas was critical. If Muncie didn’t buy it then Jack would get railroaded out of the pod.

  And their chances for success would be gone like a fart in the wind.

  Melvin squeezed his eyes shut for a second to calm his nerves. He felt like he was too old for all this shit. Prison was a young man’s game. And surviving the zombie apocalypse made it a strong man’s game. Melvin knew he was neither young nor strong anymore.

  Chapter 11

  The Warden was furious.

  Every living being in the prison was a potential soldier for his army. Losing even one person put a dent in his future. And he was left to seethe over the loss without retribution. Punishing the guilty parties would only reduce his numbers further. Unless he could do something different.

  Muncie chewed on his lower lip. He stood silently as Warden Gorgon mulled over the possibilities.

  “So Turk claims BJ killed Joker. And you think he is lying?”

  “My gut tells me he is lying.” Muncie’s tone was filled with cockiness.

  The Warden huffed. “You sure you can still trust that gut?” His words aimed directly at Muncie’s spreading paunch. Muncie seemed to wonder if it was a slight at his expense. Gorgon continued without pause.

  “A fox in the hen house can do quite a bit of damage. Perhaps we can snare the beast to rid us of the...infestation.”

  Muncie stepped forward. “Just give me the chance to get to the bottom of it. I will break Turk. And when I do, we won’t have to worry about him anymore.”

  The Warden came around his desk. “Don’t be a simpleton, Muncie. Killing Turk won’t fix anything. It’ll make matters worse. It’ll enrage the prisoners. And we need all hands on deck.”

  “Oh, yeah? And what deck is that...sir?” Muncie grew bolder in a flash of anger. The Warden liked Muncie’s aggression but it needed to be channeled.

  “The only way we can survive this is to maintain the integrity of our walls. And that requires guards. Many guards. More than we have currently. Jack is more important as another set of hands to defend our fortress than he is buried in the ground.”

  Muncie cracked his knuckles. “I’m beginning to think that we might have to look for a different answer. I don’t think your...direction...is in our best interests for the future.”

  Warden Gorgon thought before answering Muncie’s insinuation. He understood the importance of keeping Muncie in line. At the same time, he needed to stomp out any flames of insurrection before they grew. “Do you think you can do a better job than me?”

  “I’d sure like to try.”

  The Warden’s temper began to get the best of him. “I’m not foolish enough to dare you, Muncie. But I believe I have the upper hand in this case. Your men would be more apt to follow me into battle than you. I provide for their well-being. You only hold the whip over their heads. See the difference?”

  Muncie grasped the Warden’s meaning. He backed down, his eyes searching the floor for another argument. Gorgon took the opportunity to kick his enemy while he was down.

  “The shots you and your men have been getting, to hold off the spread of the virus. It would be sad if we had to ration them to last longer. It might cause men, much like yourself, to get sick. Or weak. And that would be a tragedy.”

  Muncie’s expression reddened. The Warden had struck
hard with the threat. He straightened his tie and waited for Muncie to lash out. Instead, he was met with a cold-hearted stare. Warden Gorgon had drawn a line in the sand and Muncie understood what would happen if he stepped across.

  “This is fucking bullshit and you know it.” Muncie’s voice was hostile, yet controlled. “There was a time when I was more important than the worthless shits we lock up. Now I see we are all the same to you.”

  “That’s not true, Muncie, and you know it. You are very important to me. More so than the others. But you are only valuable to me, to all of us, if you understand your role.”

  Muncie spat a wad on the floor. The Warden bristled at the open display of disrespect. He was about to throw Muncie out of his office when his top man surprised him.

  “This isn’t over, Warden. In here, you have the upper hand. But when those walls come down, and they will come down, you will be just like the rest of us. A fucking rat in the street.” Muncie pointed over the Warden’s shoulder toward the window. “And out there, I ain’t your man. I’m on my own just like everyone else.”

  Gorgon smiled.

  “You would be wise to grow eyes on the back of your fucking head.”

  The Warden’s smile faded. “Are you finished?”

  Muncie’s heavy breathing slowed. He glared at the Warden without answering his question.

  “Then get back to work protecting my prison and all who live within it.”

  Muncie backed toward the door. He kept his cold eyes on the Warden. The stare down was all Muncie could do at the moment. He reached the door and slowly turned to open it.

  “Uh, Muncie? Before you go.”

  The Warden held his breath as Muncie spun around to face him again.

  “Release Jack back to C-Pod.”

  Muncie grimaced in anger. His hands clenched into tight balls. The Warden thought his head would blow off in a spray of steam.

  “Relax. You’ll get your chance at Turk. I promise. But not yet.”

  “What about BJ? Should I bring him back too? Maybe put some flowers around his bunk while I give him a hand job?”