American Criminal (24 page)

    Without another word, the boss and his goons walked away down the aisle.

   
You gotta love the welcome wagon.

   At that moment a skinny white guy, who reminded Burnside of a younger version of his last cellmate, Frank, showed up at the bunk and climbed on top. He was about Frank’s size and build, but he had a buzz-cut instead of Frank’s slicked back hairstyle.

    “You the new guy?” the inmate asked.

    “You figure that out on your own?” Burnside asked.

    “You look like you can handle yourself,” the young guy said, ignoring Ray’s sarcasm.

    “So I’ve heard,” Ray said.

    “What?”

    “Never mind.”

    “You just get here?” the inmate asked.

    “Yeah. How long you been here?” Ray said.

    “About six months. It’s nuts. I’ve seen two riots here already.”

    “You can’t be serious.”

    “Mostly black vs. white. I’m getting nervous because they outnumber us now. After the last riot, they transferred most of our heavy-hitters to other buildings. I’m sure glad you’re here.”

    “I wish I could say the same,” Burnside said.

Chapter 32

Pandemonium

   
“So what’s the deal here?” Burnside asked. “Is this a temporary set-up, or what?”

    “Temporary? I’ve been here six months and nothing has changed yet,” the inmate said as he lay back on his bunk with his hands behind his head, staring at the high ceiling of the gymnasium.

    “That’s what I was afraid of,” Ray said. “I’m Burnside, by the way,” he added, offering his hand to the inmate reclining on the top bunk.

    “I’m Scanlon, nice to meet you,” the skinny inmate said, taking Ray’s hand and giving it a surprisingly strong shake.

    “So what kind of activities do they have around here?” Burnside asked.

    “Activities? Don’t you know where you are? There’s no activities,” Scanlon said without moving his eyes from a fixed point on the ceiling.

    “I mean, what do you guys do to keep from going insane?” Ray asked.

    “We fight, mostly,” Scanlon said, without missing a beat. “There is the occasional trip to the yard, but that’s not much different than being in here. There’s still nothing to do.”

    “Don’t you guys have a library or something? The last place I was at had one,” Ray said.

    “Where did you get transferred from? Club Fed?” Scanlon asked. “That’s the only kind of joint I know of with those kind of perks.”

    “No, I came from a max facility in another state.”

    “That explains it. Whatever state you came from doesn’t have our Three Strikes Law. Inmates in California are piling up faster than they can build new prisons.”

    “It certainly looks that way,” Ray said, surveying the endless rows of bunks lined up in the massive gymnasium.

    “Man, we have lifers in here whose last crime was stealing a pizza. It just happened to be their third and final strike. Game over. Those sorry sons-of-bitches are the worst to deal with. Many a former pizza thief has become a hardcore killer after being sent here for the long haul.”

    “That’s fucking insane,” Burnside said, considering his own fifteen-year sentence.

    He never thought of himself as being in a better position than anyone else. At least he would get out eventually.

    “Sure it is, but they don’t care. They keep piling them in here like sardines,” Scanlon said.

    “What are you in for?” Burnside asked.

    “Stealing cars,” Scanlon said, nonchalantly. “I’ve been doing it for a while, but it was only recently that I got caught. Lucky for me it was only my second felony offense. Otherwise, I’d be a lifer.”

    “That is pretty lucky,” Burnside said, ironically. “When do you get out?”

    “Six more months. It should have been less, but the fuckers added some more time because I had an old A and B on my record when I was eighteen.

    “How old are you now?” Burnside asked.

    “Twenty-four. And you?”

    “Twenty-nine.”

    “Man, you’re an old fuck,” Scanlon said, laughing.

    “I guess you could say that,” Ray said, crossing his arms and fixing Scanlon with a glare.

    Scanlon didn’t notice. He was as carefree as if he was lying in bed at his vacation home.

    “Is there anything to read at all? I don’t see how you guys can get along without any access to the written word,” Ray said, uncrossing his arms.

    “You can try reading the tag on the bottom of your mattress,” Scanlon said. “No, I’m kidding. Once in a while they come around with a cart full of old magazines, but all the big guys grab the good ones right away and there’s usually nothing left. Once in a while, one of the white guys will give me one to read when they’re done with it. That don’t happen too often though. When it does, I tend to hold onto it.”

    Scanlon reached under his pillow and pulled out a magazine that looked like it had been scavenged from a dumpster. Half the cover was missing and most of the pages were falling out. Ray saw it was a video game magazine,
Inside Gamer
.

    “I’m never giving this one up,” Scanlon said, grinning. “So don’t even ask for it. I’m gonna just keep reading it over and over. I never get sick of this one.”

    “Not to worry,” Burnside said. “The subject matter doesn’t really capture my interest anyway.”

    “You’re not a gamer?” Scanlon asked.

    “Not really.”

    “That’s too bad. You’re really missing out. Grand Theft Auto Four is almost as good as the real thing.”

    “I can see how that game would hold your interest,” Burnside said, smiling genuinely for the first time since entering the overcrowded gymnasium.

    A loud commotion on the other side of the gymnasium caught Ray’s attention.

   “Not again!” Scanlon exclaimed as he slid off the top bunk.

    “What’s going on?” Burnside asked.

    “Another fight. What else? Come on. We might have to back up our guys.”

    “Our guys?” Ray asked.

    “You know, white people,” Scanlon said, flashing him a boyish grin before darting down the aisle toward the commotion

    Burnside followed him, moving toward the familiar sounds of obnoxiously loud shouts. They took some turns through the maze-like aisles and ended up in an open area near the communal bathrooms. Burnside couldn’t see the actual fight because a large boisterous crowd was gathered around it.

    “Are the screws going to break this up, or what?” Ray asked Scanlon.

    “Eventually. But it usually takes them a while unless everyone joins in,” Scanlon said, moving toward the shouting mob.

    Burnside saw all the black inmates standing on the opposite side and all the whites close by. He saw the occasional fist flying behind the inmate’s heads and shoulders in his way, but nothing else. The mob around the fighters was too packed. That was okay. He had other concerns.

    Ray got close enough to the fight to appear interested and then began looking around the gymnasium. If he was ever going to get out of here, he had to learn the security layout ASAP. It might also help to know where the riot teams would be coming from.

    Ray looked up and saw a security camera mounted on the wall directly above the bathrooms. Coincidentally, the camera was focused into the heart of the fray. Burnside’s eyes darted to the right hand corner of the gymnasium where he saw a video camera suspended high in the wall, pointing down at the endless lines of bunk beds.

   
There’s another. What about the rest?

    He turned and gazed ahead toward the far corner, spotting another one.

   
Okay, this is getting interesting.

   
Burnside turned and walked away from screaming mob of inmates. He moved along the wall at the perimeter of what he was beginning to think of as “Bunk City.” He passed under the second security camera he spotted in the corner and continued along the wall. He was surprised to find himself staring at his reflection in a large mirror.

   
One-way mirror. Must be a security room behind it.

    His suspicions were confirmed when he saw a steel security door to the right of the one-way glass. Looking ahead, he saw another security camera mounted high on the wall in the far corner. He glanced over his shoulder at the other camera in the corner. The highly placed cameras were pointing down into the heart of Bunk City, but they were not covering him where he stood now in front of the security room. Gazing over Bunk City toward the far left hand corner, Ray saw a fourth security camera pointing into the maze of bunks.

   
One camera in each corner, one above the bathrooms. That leaves this area around the security room clear.

   
Continuing along the perimeter, Burnside continued to scan the walls. He found two more cameras placed high in the wall above the exterior exit doors. One pointed down toward the exit and the other at the perimeter of Bunk City. He glanced right in the direction of the one-way glass and realized that area was far out of range of the exterior door cameras. Ray continued his journey around the circumference of Bunk City and found another camera mounted high in the wall directly opposite the wall containing the security room. Once again, he made a mental note that the security room area was covered by the one-way glass, but no cameras.

    Burnside heard the commotion on the other side of Bunk City intensify.

   
This can’t be good.

    He quickened his pace along the wall and turned the corner beneath another security camera. The mob gathered near the bathrooms appeared more chaotic. Instead of blacks and whites being separated by the fight, they were intermingled in a tangle of writhing, twisting bodies.

    Looks like one of the spectators got a little overzealous.

   
Instead of continuing toward the fight, Burnside ducked into one of the bunk-bed aisles and ran down it. He took a left into another aisle, moving toward the one-way glass he found earlier. A few more twists and turns and he could see the security room behind a row of bunks.

    They wouldn’t have a door there unless they planned to use it during emergencies. This must qualify as one.

    Burnside remained concealed behind the row of bunks with his eyes fixed on the steel security door.

   
Come on, come on, you fuckers need to break up this riot. What are you waiting for?

  
Ray heard another loud commotion erupt from the direction of the gymnasium’s exterior doors. The endless rows of bunks blocked his view, but the heavy-footed steps and shouting he heard sounded a lot like a tactical security team coming in from the outside. He began to move in that direction in order to observe the security response to the riot when he heard a loud metallic banging noise emanate from the steel door he was watching earlier. He turned and saw the door shoot open and clang against the gym wall. A tall man ran through the opening, covered from head to foot with gleaming black riot armor. Burnside saw he wore the full regalia from the clear visored helmet to the chest, arm, and leg plates. He carried a transparent riot shield in his left hand and a Taser Gun in his right. A heavy riot baton hung at his side. Another riot guard emerged behind the first. Then another and another. They ran through the door in a single file line and assembled in pairs in front of Bunk City. When they were all partnered up, a gang of about twenty of them moved as a single unit toward the fray.

    So they send in one team through the exterior doors and the other through the security door. That makes sense. That way they can converge on the inmates from opposite directions. There are two exterior doors, which allow them to enter in pairs, so that way is out. But they can only move in single file through the security door.

   
At that moment, Burnside knew how he was going to escape. He grinned when he heard the pandemonium intensify as the riot team collided with the battling inmates.   

Chapter 33

Second Chance

   
Burnside jogged back toward the action. He navigated his way through the maze of bunks, heading toward the screams and shouts of the battling mob. He saw several prisoners being bludgeoned by riot clubs at the far end of the aisle and quickened his pace.

    I need to take down at least one guard to make it look good,
Burnside thought as he moved toward the melee.

    Burnside picked up speed. A black armored form, carrying a riot shield in one hand and a rising and falling club in the other, was wreaking havoc in the midst of the inmates. Burnside came at him from the side and hit him hard, knocking him off his feet. The guard’s armored body crashed heavily into the armor of another guard, creating a domino effect. Two more guards crashed to the floor. Ray found himself lying on top of the riot guard like a lineman tackling a quarterback.