Blood Cell (7 page)

“Can you get back out?” Sally still couldn’t think straight. The man shook her shoulders and shouted at her. “Can you leave?”

“No, he, he, put it in lockdown. It can be opened from the outside, in an hour. There’s no way out of the pod until then.”

“Then you might be in trouble.”

The escape artist looked around the room, anxious. He seemed to be searching, but couldn’t find anything.

“Do you know your way around here? Is there a place you can hide?”

“If the inmates have swipe cards, they can go anywhere within the pod.” As she said the words, she realized how much trouble she was in now. “We have to find John. Officer Norris. He’ll protect me.”

“If Norris is a guard, he’s either dead or captive.”

“I can stay up here, out of sight.”

“That’s no good. Delman...” he said, looking down, “had a crew. A very big, very powerful crew. They know he came up here, they’ll be looking for him.”

“I can go down the stairs, to the secure hallway. It runs the whole way down, has access to the TV room, the weight room, the temporary holding cells. I can find someplace.”

“No good. This place is full of a lot of violent, sexual offenders and a woman like you is not going to be safe hiding in the weight room.”

“You mean you’re not a violent sexual offender too?”

“Fraud over a hundred thousand. Money laundering. And a couple escapes. Nonviolent.”

The escape artist was thinking again, staring at the security camera feeds that showed a riot in the mess hall, and empty rooms everywhere else. He studied the different rooms but didn’t seem to know what he was looking for. She realized that this guy was new here, and he didn’t know where to go. Finally, he pointed to one of the screens. “That hallway, does it go to solitary?”

“Yeah that’s all the way at the other end.”

“That’s where we’ll go. That’s where you’ll be safe.” He nodded at her, forced a reassuring smile.

“How do you mean?”

“We’re going to lock you up and throw away the key.”

CHAPTER NINE

Josh watched the security monitors. The riot was still confined to the mess hall. That wouldn’t last. They needed to move to solitary before anyone else did.

“What are we waiting for?” She asked. Josh turned to look at her. She was wearing a bright red dress that ended at the knee. It had short sleeves that covered her shoulders but not her arms. She had long hair and makeup. She looked completely, unequivocally, like a woman. Normally, Josh would have been pleased.

“We need to make you look like a man.”

“What?”

“It’s fifty metres to the staircase. That’s a long run down that balcony. Someone below is going to notice you, and when that happens-“

“I get it.”

They studied the room. With the locker room secured, they couldn't get to the guards’ clothes. Josh was wearing only his jeans, with prison-issue t-shirt and sneakers. Not something he could share. There was only one option.

“You’re going to have to wear his clothes,” Josh said, looking down at Delman. Sally shook her head in protest, but agreed. Josh bent down to roll the body over, and saw for the first time that Delman’s pants were already open.

“Jesus.” He grabbed the jeans at the ankles, and started to pull. Delman’s weight fought against him, but soon the pants gave way and slid down the dead man’s legs. Josh handed them to Sally, who stepped into them and pulled them up under her dress. The jeans were like chest-waders on her.

“Don’t you guys get belts?” She asked, then realized belts were useful for both beatings and suicides. “Guess not.”

Josh looked at her, it was better, but the dress was the wrong colour.

“That dress is too red.”

“Well I’m not taking it off.”

“Ok. I’m not asking you to.” Josh looked down at Delman, in his T-Shirt and denim button-up jacket. His head wound had leaked blood all over one of the shoulders.

“I think you’ll have to wear that.” He didn’t wait for Sally to respond, instead he bent down to pull one of Delman’s arms out of the sleeve. “Can you help?”

Sally squatted down to help roll the body over so that the other man could pull the sleeve off. She didn’t even recall his name, and now she was depending on him to keep her safe. At least, she was pretty sure, he wasn’t in for murder or rape or anything. As the man pulled the other sleeve loose and handed her the denim jacket, she asked “What’s your name?”

“Joshua James Farewell. You?”

“Sally Peoples.”

She took the jacket and pulled it on. She could feel dampness where the blood stain rested on her shoulder. She pulled the dress up and tucked it into the bulky jeans, then buttoned up the jacket. Except for the hair and the face, she could have passed for a convict.

“How do I look?”

“I liked you better the other way, but you might be able to get out of here. You got anything to do with that hair?”

Sally pulled a hair elastic off her wrist and pulled her hair back. First she tried to make a ponytail, but that was too obvious. She spun the hair up to the back of her head. “Find me a pencil or something,” she told him. With a couple well-placed pencils she tucked her hair into a bun, good enough that she could look a lot less feminine from a distance. It would be obvious up close, but it had to do.

“We gotta go.” Josh went to the doorway and looked out. The cafeteria tables had been turned over, and were now used as shields that various men were hiding behind. There were over a dozen bodies laying prone in the middle of the room, probably dead. Nobody, not even guards, was on the balcony. He turned back to Sally.

“Stay between me and the wall, and keep your head down.” She nodded. He put one hand around waist and pressed on her back, and they took off onto the balcony.

Running, bent over, with Sally’s arms over her face and Josh guiding her, they went as fast as they could. Josh couldn’t make out individual faces below, only tell that most everyone was hiding behind overturned tables. Then he realized why. The guards’ rifles and shotguns were down there in the inmates’ hands.

“Stay low!” Josh told her, ducking his own head down. As he did, a shot rang out and a bullet struck the wall about three feet over where his head had been. Twenty yards to the staircase. They ran without looking, frantically trying to reach the safety of the stairwell. Another shot. It made a cartoonish twang sound as it ricocheted off the railing a few feet ahead. Sally gasped, hoarse and out of breath, but she managed to stifle her scream. The riot was quieter now, and a woman’s scream would be noticed. Five more seconds to the stairs.

A voice called out, Josh couldn't tell who. “Delman, is that you? You get it done?” Josh deepened his voice, and called out something unintelligible. There were no more rifle shots. They made it to the doors, swiped their way to the stairs, and to the secure corridor below.

*****

After Thomas Turner assaulted a fellow inmate, Matt Williams and another guard, Fleming, were quick to cuff him and get him out of the mess hall. The two guards they left to deal with Jimenez would have to fend off the crowd for a few seconds before the cavalry arrived, but Williams knew that getting Thomas out of the fight was most important priority. As they walked down the secure hallway toward the administrative segregation wing, Williams did his best to get Thomas calmed down.

“Why would you do something stupid like that, Thomas?”

“Had to remind people of the orders of things.”

“You’re just giving them more reason to keep you locked up in here.”

Thomas sighed, and allowed himself to be led to solitary. Just as they opened the door to ad seg, the guards and Thomas heard the sounds echoing behind them.

“What’s that?” Asked the giant.

“I don’t know, Thomas.” Williams liked to be cordial with the inmates, especially Thomas. Thomas was a huge man, and he had severe issues with ADHD and impulse control. The shrinks who had talked to Thomas talked as if he was childish, but Williams knew better. Thomas was actually very bright, even Machiavellian. You needed to treat him with kid gloves, or he’d beat you to a pulp just to send a message to the next guy. Williams was convinced that Thomas should be in a mental facility, but not for the same reasons the shrinks said. They wanted Thomas somewhere else because they saw him as a sick man. Williams saw him as a competitor, always having to fight for his place on the mountain. If Thomas was taken somewhere that was less aggressive, he could probably rehabilitate and become a regular person. Of course, both points were moot since men like Thomas Turner never got out of maximum security. Too big. Too violent. Too black. Williams knew from experience that it was often white men who could get diagnosed as crazy, while black guys were seen as mere thugs.

“Listen, Thomas, which cell would you like?”

“One with a window.”

“Okay, let’s take you over to cell number five, and we’ll get you set up in there while officer Fleming makes a call on his radio.

“Okay.” Thomas liked being alone with the guards. They knew he was the top of the food chain, and he knew that they’d kill him if he tried anything. There was no need to be anything other than civil with the C.O.s.

Williams gave Fleming a nod, sending him to find out what was going on. Fleming headed over to Danny Lewis, who was on duty watching ad seg at the time. Lewis tossed Williams the ring of keys to the solitary cells, then turned to listen to the walkie with Fleming. Williams sorted through the keys, wanting to move quick because he knew that Thomas was still riled up.

He found the key and opened the heavy door. Thomas walked into the cell. Williams followed him, taking out his handcuff keys. Standard procedure was to close and lock the door, then have the inmate stick his hands out through the bean slot in the door, but Williams felt that he didn’t want to alienate Thomas any further. “There you go, big guy. I’m going to see what’s up, and I’ll come back with a drink for you, okay?”

“Orange juice.” Thomas said. It wasn’t a question. Thomas knew the menu in ad seg very well.

“Sure thing.”

Williams closed and locked the cell. The solitary wing was sealed off with electric locks, but the cells themselves needed to be individually opened with good-old-fashioned metal keys. Williams slipped the key ring into his pocket. He approached the other two guards.

“What’s up?”

“Riot in the mess hall. Whole cafeteria’s a warzone.” Lewis delivered news very matter-of-factly.

“We got reinforcements?”

“Yeah, they geared up in the central core, but the pod’s under lockdown. Doors won’t open until the time-lock gives or the warden enters his code. They say they’re waiting for backup.”

“And we just get to sit around here and fend for ourselves?” asked Fleming.

“If they work fast, they’ll call in guys from the other shifts and retake the pod within the hour. But if the warden’s real scared he’ll call in the SRT. Full riot gear, tear gas. They’ll storm the place en masse, but it’ll take a few hours until they’re all set. In the mean time, those animals are going to thin the herd.” Lewis looked at Fleming, and especially Williams, with contempt. He clearly didn't want to be dependent on these two for his survival.

“So what can we do? Three of us with just pepper spray can’t do anything against a hundred and twenty pissed off inmates,” Fleming said. Williams knew that Fleming was right. But he had a plan.

“We barricade right here. Keep this room secure. It’s only got two entrances: the cell block and the corridor. We block them both off. Anyone tries getting in, we spray ‘em, cuff ‘em, and lock them up.”

“Screw that,” Lewis spat out. “We got C.O.s fighting to stay alive in that cafeteria. We got to go and save our own.”

Williams was certain that Lewis was planning a suicide mission. They couldn't possibly expect to get any other guards free.

“Is the riot contained to the mess hall?”

“Think so. Hard to tell. The prisoners have walkies now, so nobody wants to say much.”

Williams spoke without thinking of the consequences: “If we can get to the guard stations in the cell block, we can get the handguns.” Williams knew the moment he said it that he was asking for trouble.

“Then that’s the plan.” Lewis turned to Fleming, “You in?”

Fleming nodded.

The trio of guards set out toward the door. Williams stopped and ran back to Thomas’ cell, and slid the panel open.

“You have juice?” Thomas asked.

“Sorry. Listen, there’s a riot going on.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and I’m afraid that they’re going to come gunning for you. If they get weapons, or if enough of them work up the nerve, they’ll kill you, Thomas.”

“I know.”

Williams stuck his hand through the small window, into Thomas’ cell. He held out the key ring. “I want you to take the keys. If you have these, then nobody can open the cell and get to you, understand?”

“Yes.” Thomas took the keys. “Hey Matt?” He called to the guard.

“Yeah Thomas?”

“Leave my door slots open. I want to see who’s coming.”

After doing so, Williams jogged to catch up to the other guards, and headed back out into the cell block, toward the riot.

*****

Not twenty seconds after the guards left, the door at the other end of the solitary wing swung open, and Josh Farewell poked his head out.

“Hello?” He called.

No answer.

“Officer? Guard?” The wing was silent, and from what Josh could see, empty. Sally put her hand on his shoulder, shoved him aside, and started to head through the door. Josh pulled her back into the hallway.

The sudden jolt of being yanked backward shocked Sally. This man, this convict, dragged her back into the narrow, dim hallway and out of the brighter, more open doorway. Was he turning on her? Did he bring her here just so he could attack her uninterrupted? Sally’s nails were long enough to hurt. She swung at his face, fingers hooked, looking to dig in. He blocked her with one hand, and clamped his other hand over her mouth. She tried to scream, but allowed him to stifle the sound, not wanting to draw any attention.

“I’m not hurting you.” He spoke slowly, like to a child. “This is solitary, the worst of the worst. That guy who just attacked you was in general pop, get it? We can’t let the inmates in this wing see you. So stay here until I come and get you, okay?”

She nodded. He let her go. “And stay quiet.” She nodded again. As much as this guy seemed to want to help her, he was pretty damn bossy.

Josh slipped past the door, his hands held up in front of him, so the guard in the hole would be less likely to pound on him.

He called out “Coming in.” As he entered the wing, he found that there were no guards.

He walked down the wide corridor, steel doors on either side, becoming very uneasy at the sight of a cellblock without anyone in it. The distant clamour of the riot happening somewhere beyond the steel-cage door he was approaching didn’t help. At the main entrance to the solitary wing, there are two sets of doors, made of steel bars, spaced about five feet apart. The two doors are redundant, functioning like an airlock—the one will only open if the other is closed. As Josh wrapped his fingers around the bars of the first door, he saw that both sets were locked up. The guards had left here, locking up behind themselves.