Arid

by Joyce, Anne

  “They could call in the army,” Skylar said.

  “The soldiers would be flown back to town very soon. Their first priority is to protect the government leaders and the water barons,” Chad replied.

  “Are you sure you can trust your acquaintances?” Jethro said.

  “I’m very sure,” Julio replied.

  “They probably owe him a favor,” Joshua muttered.

  “There’s a phone in the guard station you can use, but you have to make it quick,” Chad said. “You two take Blane to the truck and lock the doors. I’ll have one of the COs walk you out.” He said, pointing to Skylar and Maria. “The rest of you come with me.”

  “But, I thought we were supposed to help,” Maria said.

  “You’re both too pretty to be around a bunch of loose convicts,” Chad replied.

  “I’m not arguing with that.” Skylar shuddered.

  “Julio, I need you to call my mom. Tell her to go to Esther’s. I don’t want the water barons tracking down my family.” She wrote her mother’s number on his hand with a pen.

  “You got it.”

  Skylar and Maria pushed the laundry cart toward the doors. Julio, Joshua, and Jethro followed Chad down a narrow hall to a tiny office.

  ***

  “Yes, Bobbie, he’s transporting an unrestrained female inmate as we speak. The whole thing is fishy.” Goodwell paced the empty locker room. “A white man, a Latino man, and a Latina woman are with Chad. They’re dressed like waste management, but I’ve never seen them before. They’ve got to be the indigent fugitives we’re looking for!”

  “Who the hell are you talking to?” Dickie, a short man with a thick, white beard walked through the doorway.

  “This doesn’t concern you, old man.” Goodwell whirled around.

  “The hell it doesn’t.” Dickie pulled his nightstick from his belt.

  “What are you going to do, bash me over the head?” he scoffed.

  “If you don’t put down that phone, I’m afraid I’ll have to.”

  “What’s happening? Talk to me, damn it!” Bobbie’s screams echoed the room. Goodwell ended the call.

  “All right, I’m putting down the phone.” He rested it on a bench and held his hands in the air.

  “Good, now—”

  Goodwell lunged at Dickie and slammed him against the lockers. Dickie dropped his nightstick and head butted Goodwell, who groaned and stumbled backwards, cupping his hand over his bloody nose. Dickie bent down to retrieve his nightstick and Goodwell charged him again. He knocked Dickie back into the lockers and pressed his hands against Dickie’s throat. Dickie’s face turned beet red as he struggled for his next breath. He swung his knee into Goodwell’s crotch.

  The greasy man released his grip and doubled over. “Chad, I need your help in the locker room,” Dickie wheezed. “It’s Goodwell. He’s—”

  Goodwell sent Dickie flying with a right hook to the jaw. He dropped his radio and smacked the ground.

  “Dickie… Dickie… come in,” Chad shouted into the radio. “We have to get to the locker room.” Chad ran down the hall with Jethro and Joshua behind him.

  “I’ll catch up with you,” Julio called as he dialed his contacts.

  When they reached the locker room, Goodwell was kneeling over a half-conscious Dickie, holding a baton.

  “You’re on the wrong side,” Dickie moaned, raising his hands.

  “You shouldn’t have gotten involved.” Goodwell raised the baton over his head. He heard footsteps and looked up just in time to see a fine mist fly in his direction. It sprayed his face and burned his flesh like acid. He fell to the floor, writhing and screaming.

  “You little son of a bitch.” Chad put the mace away and kicked Goodwell in the stomach.

  “Are you all right?” Joshua knelt over Dickie.

  “I think I hit my head.” Dickie rubbed his temple.

  “Should we take you to the infirmary?” asked Jethro.

  “I’ll be okay. I just need a minute.” Dickie sat up and brushed off his uniform.

  “Drink this.” Chad pulled a water ration from his locker and handed it to him.

  Dickie slurped down the liquid. “We’ve got a big problem on our hands. This traitor was talking to somebody named Bobbie about you.” He pointed at Joshua. “He called you a fugitive.”

  “Who the hell is Bobbie?” Chad shouted at Goodwell.

  “Do whatever you want to me. I’m not talking,” he groaned.

  “Bobbie’s that Purifier woman who looks like a man. She’s been here several times,” Dickie realized.

  “He’s a spy!” Jethro said.

  “That means an army of Purifiers are on their way,” Joshua said.

  They all turned around when Goodwell’s phone rang. “It’s Bobbie.” Chad stared at the screen.

  “Let it ring,” Dickie said.

  “No, we’ve got to buy ourselves some time. One of you needs to answer it and pretend to be Goodwell,” Jethro said.

  “I can’t mimic his whiny voice.” Dickie grimaced.

  “My voice isn’t whiny, you jackass!”

  “I think I can.” Joshua picked up the phone.

  “Wait.” Chad pulled a bandana from his pocket and tied it around Goodwell’s mouth.

  “Hello?” Joshua raised his voice an octave.

  “How dare you hang up on me,” Bobbie shouted.

  “I’m sorry. I had a situation to deal with.”

  “What situation?’

  “Another CO heard our conversation, but I handled it.”

  “Did you kill him?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Good. Where are the fugitives?”

  “We captured them. They’re upstairs in a cell.”

  “Perfect. I’m on my way over. Guard them with your life until I get there,” she ordered.

  “You got it.”

  “Do you think that was convincing enough?” Joshua set the phone back on the bench. His hands were shaking so hard he almost knocked it off again.

  “Well done.” Jethro nodded.

  “Chad, we’re waiting,” a voice came over his radio.

  “Listen everyone, Purifiers are on their way to the prison. I repeat, Purifiers are headed for the prison. Release the inmates at once,” Chad said.

  “What are you talking about, Chad? Has the mission been compromised?” A woman’s voice said.

  “There’s a spy in our presence. We need to round up all the new hires and confine them. They can’t be trusted,” Chad replied. He opened a locker and pulled out a bulky duffel bag. “We need to get to the roof.” He unzipped the bag and handed out guns.

  “Why are we going to the roof?” Joshua took an assault rifle.

  “ThePurifiers won’t be looking up when hundreds of convicts are running toward them,” Chad replied.

  “Let’s go find Julio,” Joshua said.

  Joshua pulled Dickie to his feet and waited while Chad cuffed Goodwell’s hands and threw his phone in the toilet. They hurried out of the locker room.

  “Are you ready?” Julio met them in the corridor with several of the guards.

  “Did you reach your cohorts in Mexico?” Jethro said.

  “They’ll be waiting for us.” Julio nodded.

  “The doors are unlocked and the gate is open. All we have to do is open the cells,” a petite brunette said.

  “Where is everyone else?” Chad looked around.

  “I think the other COs are hiding somewhere. They got scared when they heard the Purifiers are coming,” a man with a thick moustache said.

  “They picked a fine time to abandon us,” Chad sighed. “Take a firearm and get to the roof. One of you needs to stay behind and man the guard station.” Chad thrust the duffel bag at them.

  “I’ll do it,” Dickie offered.

  Everyone else ran upstairs and onto the roof. There was an eerie chill in the air. It worried Joshua. All was too quiet outside. They had a perfect view of the front entrance and the prison
yard from where they stood.

  “I thought we weren’t going to be a part of this.” Julio glanced at Joshua.

  “We already are. Do you remember what you said the day we killed that buzzard? You said nothing we do will make a difference in the end.”

  “I remember.” He nodded.

  “I think today’s the day I prove you wrong.”

  Julio smiled. They knelt in front of the ledge and readied their weapons. The brunette pulled out a pair of binoculars and stared through them.

  “Bring it, you bastards!” a muscular man with a crew cut shouted.

  ***

  “Attention, inmates, I have an announcement,” Dickie’s voice blared over the intercom.

  The men in cellblock B were shouting to one another and carrying on as always. The daily commotion made it difficult to hear much else. A man with tattoos covering his face jumped to his feet when he heard Dickie. “Everybody shut the fuck up!” he yelled. The chatter stopped. The prisoners stood silent in their cells and listened. None of them wanted the wrath of the tattooed man.

  Dickie went on, “I know many of you are here because you couldn’t afford to pay your water bills and feed your families. You did things you wouldn’t normally do to stay out of the wastelands. The only difference between you and the water barons is that you were punished for your crimes. The rich and powerful have been exempt from justice for decades, but not anymore. Today they’ll have to face the consequences… and the people they’ve hurt. You’re all being paroled.” Dickie flipped the switches and the cell doors flew open.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Julio stared through the scope of his rifle. Sweat dripped down his forehead and into his eyes. “Where the hell are they? I thought they’d be here by now.” He wiped his face with a handkerchief.

  “It’s quite a drive from their base,” the red head behind them said.

  The door flew open with a loud clink. Everyone whirled around, pointing their guns at the intruder. “It’s just me!” Dickie raised his hands.

  “You scared the hell out of us.” The muscular man lowered his gun.

  “Sorry, Patrick. I wanted to be here before the Purifiers came.”

  “Where are the prisoners?” Chad handed him a rifle.

  “They’re running through the building. They’ll be out soon.”

  “They’re here!” The brunette jumped to her feet.

  “Jerin, get down!” Chad hissed. He and Dickie crouched beside one another. “Don’t move and don’t make a sound.”

  Two Purifier trucks sped down the driveway and parked in the lot beside the yard. “Bobbie Burs,” Chad said, as a woman stepped out of her truck with three stocky men. Three more men got out of the other vehicle and hovered around her as she barked orders.

  “I wonder what she’s saying,” Patrick whispered.

  Bobbie marched toward the front entrance with her cohorts trailing behind.

  “Her nose is stuck in the air as usual,” Dickie muttered.

  Bobbie stopped just short of the front entrance. A horrified expression came across her face. “Oh shit!” she screamed, turned, and dashed back toward the truck.

  “Where are you going?” a tall, lean Purifier said as she ran past him.

  “Holy mother of Mary!” Two guys who looked like twins cried in unison and pointed at the front door. The door swung open and a horde of shouting men in prison clothes ran from the building.

  “What the hell is this?” A muscle-bound goon glanced at his frightened comrades.

  “I don’t know, but we won’t make it to the truck in time if we run.” Another Purifier eyed the approaching crowd.

  “I’ll take my chances.” The heavy-set Purifier turned and sprinted toward the vehicles.

  “Look, there’s a truck!” an inmate shouted.

  “There are two of them!” They ran faster, shoving one another out of the way. The big goon began walking backwards in the direction of the truck.

  “On my count.” One of them raised his rifle. The others pointed their weapons at the convicts. “One… two… three!” Their bullets tore through the crowd, striking the inmates at the head of the pack. They collapsed on the ground, blood gushing from their gaping wounds.

  “Get back or you’ll end up like them!” the tall man yelled.

  “You murdering sons of bitches!” Tattoo Face shouted.

  “Killers!” his fellow convicts roared.

  They charged toward the Purifiers, stepping over the bodies of the fallen. The Purifiers glanced at each other and nodded. They opened fire again, striking several more convicts before they were overtaken by the angry mob, pummeled by fists, and knocked to the ground. “I got a gun!” A muscular felon held it in the air. He set his sights on the fat Purifier and fired at the fleeing man’s back. Pudgy groaned and fell face first in the dirt.

  “I got one too!” another cheered.

  “No, I have a gun.” Tattoo Face yanked the rifle out of his hand. He pointed it at a Purifier, who was fighting a vicious group for his weapon. Tattoo Face’s bullet struck the man’s forehead. Blood spurted from his wound as fell at the inmates’ feet. They immediately began fighting each other for his gun.

  “Here, take it!” The largest Purifier threw his rifle into the crowd and bolted for the vehicle. He ran past a screaming companion on the ground, taking a severe beating.

  “Don’t leave me.” The battered Purifier stretched out his hand.

  His comrade kept running and didn’t look back.

  “Look at that. One of them is making a run for it,” Jethro remarked.

  “He’s got something in his hand.” Joshua strained to see. “Shit, I hope he’s not calling for backup!”

  “The last thing we need is more Purifiers.” Chad aimed his rifle at the running man. He watched the terrified Purifier weave through the cluster of blood thirsty criminals.

  “Are you going to shoot him or not?” Patrick yelled.

  “It’s not easy to hit a moving target in a forest of people,” Chad replied.

  “Bobbie, let me in!” The man threw himself against the truck and pounded the window. Bobbie started the engine and sped away, mowing down several inmates in her path. The Purifier gripped the side mirror and hung on for life until he was yanked off. He hit the gravel, rolled, and received a kick and multiple blows to the face. Several felons jumped onto the truck and banged on the windows.

  “Unlock the door!” A mountain of a man leapt onto the hood and raised his fist at the windshield. “I’ll smash it to pieces.”

  Bobbie grabbed her handgun and fired at his chest. The bullet cracked the windshield and sailed into the giant’s heart. He rolled off the hood and she drove over him. “That bitch is getting away!” Dickie pointed.

  Joshua leaned over the ledge and struck her right rear tire with the precision of a true marksman. The tire burst and pieces flew across the driveway. The truck skidded and came to a halt. Bobbie screamed and slammed her hands on the steering wheel. “No!”

  Tattoo Face and his thugs caught up to her, smashed the windows, and dragged her out of the vehicle. She kicked at them and shouted until she was silenced with a bullet to the face. They piled into the other vehicle like sardines and drove away.

  Three large inmates lifted the rear end of Bobbie’s truck. Two men grabbed a tire iron and the spare tire off the hatchback. The large, beastly men held up the vehicle while the other two changed the tire. They crammed themselves inside the truck and sped off. The rest of them took off on foot down the road.

  “Now that’s teamwork,” Jethro said.

  “It’s time to move out, everyone. I think the coast is clear right now.” Chad threw his rifle over his shoulder. “I guess this is where we part.” He turned to Joshua.

  “We appreciate your help.” Joshua shook Chad’s hand.

  “Good luck and safe travels.”

  “Jethro, I can’t thank you enough.” Joshua patted his back.

  “Glad to help.” Jethro smiled.
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  “Come on, Josh. We’ll send these guys a postcard from Mexico expressing our gratitude.” Julio grabbed his arm and pulled him away.

  “Guys, wait up.” Jerin stared through her binoculars.

  “What is it?” Dickie said.

  “We’ve got company.”

  “Don’t tell me there are more Purifiers already!” Patrick said.

  “It’s way worse than that.” Her voice cracked.

  “Let me see.” Chad walked over and took her binoculars. “Everybody get down and back into position!”

  Everyone crouched behind the ledge and took out their weapons.

  “What it is?” Joshua whispered.

  A few agonizing moments of silence passed before Chad pointed at the road. “Here it comes.”

  Joshua’s stomach dropped. Nothing could have prepared his eyes for what was approaching. Julio broke into a cold sweat. He wiped his damp hands on his pants and wrapped them around his rifle. A Purifier van turned into the prison with an army tank following behind.

  “How the hell did they get a tank here so fast?” Jethro gasped.

  “They must have been in the neighborhood. They brought that tank to the middle of nowhere to test fire it. A Purifier truck usually travels with a tank in times of war,” Moustache replied. The van’s window rolled down and a man leaned out with his gun. He blasted the remaining inmates in the yard. They fell like dominos.

  “It looks like they’ve got plenty of semi-automatic weapons,” Patrick groaned.

  “The tank is a much bigger problem.” Jerin eyed it in horror.

  The tank stopped and backed into the middle of the yard. Its barrel rose and pointed at the roof.

  “Get away from the ledge!” Chad screamed. Everyone scurried across the roof on their bellies.

  A loud bang shattered the still air. The building shook, knocking them around like ragdolls. The red head groaned and flopped on the ground.

  “Emily, stay still,” Chad called to her. Chunks of concrete flew at them, hitting several of the guards.

  A black cloud of smoke formed around them. “Is everyone all right?” Chad coughed.

  “Yeah, we’re doing just great over here!” Moustache pulled his shirt over his face.