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Authors: Shawn William Davis

American Criminal (26 page)

BOOK: American Criminal
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    Ray began with the chest and back plates and moved on to the belt. The belt contained a holstered Taser, a bottle of pepper spray and a pair of handcuffs: all potentially useful items. Even better, the Taser was a state-of-the-art M19-L Advanced model that fired a fifteen-foot needle-tipped cable that would deliver 50,000 volts at 18 watts. The base of the handle could be also be used as a back-up to deliver voltage, but it required direct contact. There were even four replacement cartridges on the belt.

   Next came the shoulder and arm plates, then the leg plates. The gloves next.

   
Come on, come on, move it, Burnside…..

   
Finally, the boots, but it was no good. They were too small. That was all right. He had a backup plan in case of this contingency. He was wearing black sneakers and they would have to do. He reached down and grabbed the shielded helmet like an afterthought, placing it on and obscuring his face.

    Now for the injury. He un-taped the small shank from the side of his sneaker and held it to his side. He took a deep breath and sliced the shank along the small fatty portion above his waist. He felt blood spill out and threw the shank away. The wound was only superficial, but there would be a lot of blood. He placed his black-gloved hand over the wound to stifle the flow temporarily and began jogging down the aisle in the direction of the exterior door. He emerged from Bunk City and stumbled across the open space between the exterior doorway and the bunks. A platoon of ordinary corrections officers, wielding rifles, stood outside the doorway in case any inmates tried to make a break for it. Halfway to the door, Ray uncovered his wound and collapsed. He hit the floor and felt blood seeping out of his torn side. He didn’t have long to wait.

    “This guy’s bleeding like a stuck pig!” a voice shouted above him.

    “Get a stretcher over here!” another voice yelled in the distance.

    Thirty seconds later, Burnside was being lifted onto a stretcher.

    Please don’t notice the boots…or lack thereof,
Burnside thought as he felt himself being lifted and carried. His only chance was if the EMTs carrying him were caught up in the heat of the moment and didn’t notice that single very important detail. Ray saw blue sky through his Plexiglas faceplate and realized he was already outside.  A few moments later and the sky disappeared, replaced by the interior roof of an ambulance.

    “Get that armor off him. We have to patch him up before he bleeds out,” the EMT on his left, an older guy with graying hair, said.

    “You got it,” the EMT on his right, a young blond kid, replied as he fumbled for the proper clasps to un-strap the armor plates.

    Burnside heard the ambulance door slam and the engine fire up.

    “We’re all set! Move out!” the older EMT yelled to the driver through an open slot.

    The kid finally got the body armor off as the ambulance sped away. As soon as the plate came away, the other EMT was taping a large bandage over the wound.

    “He’s lost a lot of blood. I’ll set up the IV,” the older EMT said. “and take off his fucking helmet so he can breathe.”

    The helmet came off and Burnside saw the EMTs leaning over him without the Plexiglas barrier in the way. His peripheral vision was back and he used it to survey the layout of the ambulance. It was cramped, but big enough to fight in. He had to time it just right. If he went off too early, he might alert the driver, who would then speed him over to a security checkpoint. If he went off too late, they could be carrying him out the door of the ambulance.

    “All right, guys, we’re coming up on the infirmary,” the ambulance driver said. “When I stop, get him out fast, so I can go back for more. Because you know there will be more.”

    “You know it, Jerry,” the older EMT said.

   
That decides it then. I do it now.

    Ray’s right hand crept slowly down toward the Taser gun holstered in his belt.

    “Hey, Tom, have you ever seen boots like that before?” the younger EMT asked, pointing to Burnside’s feet.

    “What are you talking about?” the older EMT asked, glancing down at Burnside’s black sneakers. “Hey, wait a second, those aren’t standard issue-”

    Burnside’s hand wrapped around the Taser handle and he drew it from its holster like a six shooter. Aiming at the older EMT, he pulled the trigger. There was an electric zap as a black needle shot out of the device on a thin cord. It struck the EMT’s neck and he went rigid. His eyes rolled up in his head and he fell against the wall.

    “Hey, what are you d-”

    Burnside slammed the Taser handle into the second EMT’s chest and the same sequence followed. His body went tense, his eyes rolled up, and he keeled over. He collapsed, sprawling across Burnside’s legs. The needle remained in the older EMT’s neck for five seconds before retracting into the cartridge. The older EMT was lying on his seat in a fetal position, his body quivering and his teeth chattering. He still didn’t look like he was completely out.

    Burnside unstrapped himself and sat up. The younger EMT began stirring, so he used the handle to strike him in the back of the head. If the shock didn’t keep him knocked out, the blow would. He shoved the EMT’s body off his legs and turned back to the older EMT, who looked like he was attempting to open his eyes. He touched the electrified handle to his chest and his body convulsed spasmodically. Burnside followed up with a blow to the head. The ambulance came to a halt.

    “Okay, get him out of here fast!” the ambulance driver said.

    Burnside didn’t respond. He re-positioned himself so he was looking out the slot into the front driver’s cabin. He replaced the spent cartridge with a fresh one from his belt, aimed the Taser through the gap and pulled the trigger. He heard the familiar zapping noise and then a grunt from the driver. The driver keeled over the steering wheel, missing the horn by a millimeter. Ray re-holstered the Taser and went out the back door. He climbed into the front cab and shoved the inert EMT into the passenger seat. He glanced around quickly and spotted an alleyway between two buildings to his right. It looked just large enough to accommodate an ambulance. He pressed the gas pedal lightly and steered between the two buildings. The EMT started moving and a second blow was delivered to his head to keep him out. Ray kept the engine running and began stripping off what was left of his armor and uniform.

 

 

 

Chapter 35

The River

 

 

   
Burnside was becoming expert at changing clothes. It took him less than three minutes to strip down and dress in the EMT’s uniform. This time, the guy was plenty big enough and the uniform was actually a little loose on him. He carried the body and armor into the back of the ambulance and tossed them in. The EMTs in the back were beginning to wake up, so he gave them each a second blow to the head with the electrified Taser handle. He did the same for the driver just to make sure. Returning to the driver’s seat, he looked at himself in the rearview mirror.

    You can do this, Burnside.

    Ray knew if he stopped to contemplate the ramifications of his actions, it would psych him out and slow him down. His only chance was to continue with the plan and hope for the best. A beeping noise sounded from the truck as he backed out of the alley. The noise stopped when he put the vehicle into drive. He backed away from the alley and halted in front of the infirmary, so he wouldn’t look suspicious.

   
All right. Now which way is out?

   
Burnside glanced to the left when he heard a siren blaring. He watched an ALS Ambulance careen past him with its lights flashing.

     Advanced Life Support and they’re not going to the infirmary. That means they are bringing a critical patient to a hospital off site! 

   
Burnside stomped down on the gas pedal and tore away from the infirmary to follow the flashing lights of the ALS Ambulance. He was driving a Basic Life Support ambulance or BLS, and knew this because there was no advanced life support equipment in the back. But that hopefully wouldn’t matter. The guards would see two ambulances heading for the gate and let them both through. It was worth a chance at least. It was certainly better than Tasering the gate guard, as he had planned to do.

    The ALS took a sharp left at an intersection and Burnside followed. He threw on the lights as they approached the main gate to the prison complex. Burnside watched the ALS pull up to a guard booth and saw the driver exchange words with a corrections officer there. A second later, the automatic gate was rumbling open. The ALS blew through the opening and continued down the road. Burnside pulled up next to the guard.

    “What’s going on?” the guard asked, suspiciously, eyeing the BLS lettering on the ambulance door.

    “I have a critical patient in back – one of ours,” Burnside explained quickly. “There are more casualties than we thought and we’re running out of ALS cars, so we’re making due with what we have.”

    The guard’s face turned pale as he glanced right toward the main prison buildings.

    “Have they contained it yet?” he asked.

    “Not yet. Like I said, it’s pretty bad,” Ray said.

     “Okay, get the hell out of here,” the guard said, waving him through the gate.

     Burnside hit the gas and flew through the opening onto the main service road. He kept the lights flashing as he raced toward the outer gate. For insurance, he placed a fresh cartridge in the Taser. The ALS was already pulled over beside the next guard shack and the outer gate was swinging open. Burnside saw the ALS driver hand the guard some papers as he pulled up behind it. The guard waved the ALS through. The ALS drove away and the driver hit the siren a few times as he left.

    Burnside took a deep breath and rolled the BLS next to the guard booth.

    “Paperwork?” the guard asked, reaching out his hand.

    Burnside reached down for the Taser at his side.

    “That’s a problem,” Ray said. “The guy in back is one of our own and he’s critical. I didn’t have time to get all the proper forms.”

    “Then I can’t let you through,” the guard said, reaching down to the control panel to shut the gate.

    Burnside quick-drew the Taser and zapped the guard with 50,000 volts as the gate began to swing closed. Ray hit the gas and swerved to the left to avoid the gate moving toward him from the right. There was a horrific grinding sound as metal scraped against metal. Glancing in the rearview mirror, Ray saw sparks shoot out from the side of the ambulance as he pulled away.

   
A bit more dramatic than I hoped, but effective nonetheless.

   
The ambulance’s big engine kicked in as Burnside put the pedal to the floor. Ray looked in the rearview mirror and watched the prison fence receding into the distance. He switched on the siren when he saw a car in the road ahead. The car pulled over to the side and let him pass.

    Now that’s more like it.

   
Burnside drove through the rural area he remembered seeing on his way in. The road cut a swathe through a series of small forested hills with larger hills behind them. Glancing left, he saw glimpses of snow-capped mountains. Ray heard a pounding noise in the back of the ambulance and realized there was an important detail he forgot. He placed his last cartridge in the Taser and pulled into the breakdown lane.

    Ray got out and circled around to the back. The rear doors flung open and the driver was the first one out, fists clenched. Burnside aimed the Taser gun, pulled the trigger and hit him with 50,000 volts. The driver went down, blocking the way for the others. Burnside took the initiative and lunged forward, slamming the electrified handle into the forehead of the younger EMT, who collapsed on top of the driver.

    The older EMT retreated into the back of the ambulance and Burnside went in after him. There were no more cartridges, so Ray struck him with a closed left fist and followed up with the Taser handle to the side of his head. Ray dragged the body out and dropped it beside the others. He searched the EMTs’ clothing for cell phones and found one in the older one’s pocket. He took it and returned to the cab. The engine was still running, so all he had to do was hit the gas pedal. 

    A short time later, the hills closed in and became the towering cliffs he remembered on his way in. The road passed through a canyon and opened up to the usual forests and hills beyond. Eventually, Burnside reached the end of the unmarked road and approached a beat-up road sign. The sign read E Carmel Valley Rd and below it JAMESBURG - 4 MILES with an arrow pointing left. Below JAMESBURG was the message “TO RTE 101” beside an arrow pointing right. Burnside stopped at the intersection and contemplated his next move.

   He remembered driving on Rte 101 through a sizable town called King City. Going right meant returning to civilization and lots of cops, so that way was out.  Going left toward Jamesburg was his only option. Jamesburg sounded like one of those remote towns where the town Constable was also the Mayor. The sign indicated four miles until he reached the town, so that left him time to ditch the ambulance and take to the woods. Burnside had no experience with wilderness survival, but he estimated the temperature to be in the mid-60’s, so at least he wouldn’t freeze to death. As far as living off the land, he would have to wing it. Anything was better than going back to prison. He would rather die free in beautiful God’s Country than be wrongfully imprisoned with the low-lives of humanity. It was worth the risk.

BOOK: American Criminal
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