From the side of the narrow pane of glass, I watched as Pine Tree lumbered up the hallway alone.
I thought about our options.
Try to sneak out when he gets far enough away. Of course, he’d probably hear us––if not coming out of this door then trying to unlock and open the other.
Attack him with the bat. Of course, he’d probably just take it away from me, pick his teeth with it, then squash me.
We could stay put. Hide here while he discovers the body, confirms we’re here, and radios for help. Of course, they’d find us in no time and there would be more of them to deal with––including Cantor and his sword.
“We’ve got to sneak out,” I said. “Best chance is when he goes into the office where Butler is.”
“Okay.”
“Here,” I said, handing her the key. “You unlock the outer door. I’m sure you can do it more quietly than I can. I’ll be watching the hallway to see if he hears us.”
I watched as Pine neared the office that held Butler.
As he continued down the hallway, looking into each office, he periodically called out for Butler but he only looked over his shoulder once.
“Here we go,” I said as he neared the fateful office. “Quickly and quietly.”
When he reached the door, looked in, and saw Butler, he pulled out his keys and rushed inside.
“Now,” I said.
42
As we stepped back out into the black night, Pine’s voice came through Butler’s radio.
“They’re here,” Pine said, voice pitched high, words coming fast. “Classification. Butler’s down.”
“Scotty, get over there,” Randy Wayne said. “Now. Whatta you mean, down? How bad is he?”
“He ain’t conscious.”
“Leave him for now. Search the building. Find them.”
“They got his radio.”
“Motherfuck Almighty,” Randy Wayne said. “An unarmed preacher and a bitch about to have a baby.”
“We prefer badasses,” Anna whispered.
I laughed.
We were running back the same way we had come earlier, behind Medical, toward Laundry.
“I’m being literal here,” Randy Wayne was saying. “An actual human being baby could drop out of her shit-don’t-stink better-than-thou pristine pussy any second now. How haven’t you taken care of them yet?”
“Did you know any of that about me?” Anna asked.
“Sure, but only because we’ve been intimate. How does he know?”
“Think he hates all women or just me?”
We reached the end of Medical and paused for a moment. I looked around. We’d be more exposed as we crossed between Medical and Laundry.
“Okay,” I said. “Just to the back edge of Laundry. Ready?”
“Say the word and I’ll move my pristine little pussy just as fast as I can.”
“On three,” I said. “Three.”
We took off.
Stepping onto the asphalt pad, I cringed for Anna’s feet, the long, shapely, tender feet I found so sexy. I had to find something for her to wear. My shoes were too big and would come off as soon as she tried to run. Maybe I could find a pair of inmate sneakers in Laundry that would fit her.
Just as we reached the back corner of the laundry building, I saw Scotty Branson, the officer Randy Wayne had told to get to Classification, round the corner where we had just been standing a few moments before.
He paused for a moment, just as we had, and turned and looked over his shoulder toward us.
We stood perfectly still in the darkness, our backs pressed up against the cinderblock wall.
The night was still deathly quiet, the blood moon still a deep, dark red. Everything was still shrouded in fog and a burgundy-tinged blackness.
He appeared to be looking directly at us.
Could he see us? Did he know we were here?
Eventually, he looked away, scanning other directions, then continuing to the back door of Classification and going in.
I turned the radio back up slightly and held it to my ear.
“. . . called futility, John,” Randy Wayne was saying. “Understand? All you’re doin’ is delaying the inevitable. You have nowhere to go. No chance of escape. No way to call for help. No weapons. No hope. You don’t even have the radio. In just a second, we’re goin’ to switch to another channel, then from there alternate between channels at intervals you couldn’t possibly guess even if you were fuckin’ Rain Man. So why don’t y’all make it easy on all of us and turn yourself in? We can work something out. Nobody has to get hurt from all this. Just for once in your life be a team player. Whatta you say?”
I said nothing, just continued scanning the area around us as I listened.
“Come on,” he said. “Before Cantor cuts somebody. ’Cause I’m tellin’ you, he goes to work on somebody with that big blade of his and parts are gonna fall out that we can’t put back in. Vital parts. Know what I mean? That ain’t the kind of cesarean you want Anna havin’. Trust me. Or maybe you do. I hear it’s not your baby. But, John, buddy, Cantor won’t just take the baby. Come on, you know that. He’ll rip her too. Rip her good. You gonna put her through that?”
Anna squeezed my hand.
“You ever looked at his jacket?” he said. “Ever read in detail what he’s in here for? He won Best with a Blade at the American Sociopathic Association’s award show something like five years running.”
He cracked himself up with that one and took a moment to enjoy it, laughing and appreciating himself––leaving the microphone on as he did.
“You remember a year or so back, that inmate who got filleted in F Dorm? Ears cut off and shoved down his throat. Smiley face carved into his belly, his viscera hanging out of its mouth. There was more, but you get the . . . You remember that, right? ’Course you do. Nobody forgets shit like that. Cantor’s work. Yeah, boy knows his way around a blade and a body. That’s for sure. Thing is, John, I’m gonna make you watch him do that to Anna if you don’t stop all this and turn yourself in right now.”
I didn’t respond.
“Last chance. Offer is going . . . going . . . gone. Okay boys, he chose the hard way. Just like we were hoping he would. Let’s make it extra hard, though, ’specially for the stuck up bitch. Switch to our alternate channel and begin switching around in the intervals we discussed in three . . . two . . .”
The radio went silent.
“You okay?” I whispered to Anna.
She nodded.
“It’s just bravado,” I lied. “Just threats. Just trying to scare us.”
“Well, it worked.”
“Sorry,” I said.
I pulled her to me and held her, continuing to look around us as I did.
“I’m so sorry about all this,” I said. “I’m gonna take care of you, get you out of this. You’re going to be fine.”
“Where to? What next?”
“Was thinking we might double back to the chapel since they’ve already checked it. Maybe they won’t come back to it for a while. We have the keys and can get into any part of it, and I think there’s an outlet in the kitchen that works when the emergency lights kick on.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
“Sorry about your feet. We’ll figure something out for them when we get there.”
“They’re the least of my worries now. The very least.”
43
I slowly slid the key into the lock and turned the handle on the exterior door that led into the fellowship hall and kitchen. It was in the very back corner of the chapel, directly behind the sanctuary, separated by a removable room divider that folded into each of the side walls.
We entered the empty room, my dew-wet shoes squeaking on the tile floor, and moved toward the kitchen on the far side.
The room was dark, but I could see that the divider was closed and all the chairs and tables were stacked against the walls. We had a clear straight walk to the small back hallway that led to the kitc
hen.
“You okay back there?” I whispered.
“I am. And I love you.”
“I love you.”
I opened the back hallway door, which was dimly illuminated by the emergency lamp on the wall near the ceiling––only one side of which was working. It was a small, narrow L-shaped hallway off of which were the inmate and volunteer bathrooms and the kitchen. The kitchen was to our right. It and the volunteer bathroom were the only doors that locked back here.
I unlocked it and we walked inside.
The first thing that stood out to me wasn’t the presence but the absence of something. I didn’t hear the hum of the refrigerator.
“Hear that?” I asked.
“What?”
“Exactly.”
“Oh. No hum.”
“Tell you what, I’ll still pull out the fridge and you can try all the outlets in here while I go get you some sneakers out of my office and check on Emmitt.”
“Just hurry back.”
“I will. The fridge could be plugged into the wrong outlet. Just try them all. If you get enough charge, go ahead and call.”
“Who?”
“Merrill or Dad or nine-one-one. Nine-one-one will be faster and easier, but with Dad or Merrill you can really explain what’s going on.”
“You have either of their numbers?”
I gave them to her as I pulled the refrigerator back from the wall.
Then I hugged and kissed her and hurried away so I could hurry back.
Checking both ways before I opened the kitchen door, I stepped out and took the half dozen or so steps to the door that opened into the main hallway right across from my office. Pausing there, I looked around. Seeing no one, I eased open the door and stepped into the hallway.
But before I could cross the hall to my office, something in the sanctuary caught my eye.
I was seeing it through the square glass windows of the main chapel doors to my left and at first wasn’t sure what I was seeing.
Snatching open the door on the right, I stepped into the sanctuary and crossed over to the center aisle and stared in disbelief.
There in the front of the sanctuary, nailed to the podium in a horrific crucifixion pose, was the naked body of Emmitt Emerson.
Blood and bowels hung and dripped out of a large hole in his side. His eyes were missing, their sockets black bloody gaps into which his head could be seen, out of which nothing would ever be seen again. Blood also dripped from his wrists and feet and the jagged cuts across his forehead, this last appearing to mimic the damage that would be caused by a crown of thorns.
The entire terrifying tableau was lit from below by an emergency light that had been ripped from the wall and brought over to give dramatic illumination to the sadistic and sacrilegious scene.
This is my fault. I brought him in. I drugged him. I used him to––
The front door of the chapel opened and I dropped to the floor and rolled beneath the pew nearest me.
When the sanctuary doors opened, I slid a little farther beneath the pew.
“What the fuck?” a voice I didn’t recognize said.
“Jesus Christ, man,” another voice said. “Is that–– Who is that?”
“I have no idea, but I know whose work it is. It’s what happens when you let a serial killer loose to play with a big knife. Fuck. Look at it. Better call RW.”
One of them radioed Randy Wayne.
“Your boy crucified some poor bastard in the chapel.”
“Oh good. Who?”
“Don’t recognize him.”
“Oh shit. Bet it’s Emerson. What’s he look like?”
He told him.
“That’s him. Oh, well. You know what? Actually, this is good. This is very good. Yeah, this helps with the story.”
“Whatta we do?”
“Leave everything just as it is. Keep looking for them.”
“Ten-four.”
“Oh, and don’t get on the wrong end of Cantor’s blade.”
“Shit’s not funny,” one of them said.
“It’s kinda funny,” the other said.
“Let’s finish lookin’ and get the fuck out of here. That shit’s creepin’ the fuck out of me.”
I could see their boots as they began to move toward me.
If they did a thorough search, they’d see me. There was no way around it.
If they went in the back, they’d see Anna. If I didn’t get back to her soon, she’d probably come out looking for me.
They continued toward me, still on the back aisle, staying together, easing their way farther into the sanctuary.
“What if that motherfucker decides to come after us?”
“RW?”
“No. The psychopath with the knife.”
“Shoot him.”
“With what?”
“You’re really wandering around in here in the dark without a weapon?”
“How’d you . . . I didn’t know we could bring one in.”
“Tonight’s different. Nobody but us up here. Who’s gonna know?”
“Where’s the captain?”
“RW took care of him. Put something in his coffee. He’s sleepin’ like a big baby. When he wakes up he’ll be one of the ones blamed for all this shit.”
“Sweet. Think I can run out to my truck and get my gun?”
“RW ain’t gonna let you outta here.”
“You got an extra?”
“Just stick close to me. I gotcha.”
“Hey, wait. If they were in here, Psycho Slasher would’ve gotten them.”
“Good point. Let’s look somewhere else.”
They stopped walking.
“I mean, hell, we’re here more for containment than anything else. He’ll find ’em and fuck ’em up. All we gotta do is lay low and stay alive.”
They turned and began walking back the way they had come.
When they reached the sanctuary doors, I raised up to see if they were leaving the building or checking the back hallway.
At first they just stood there.
After a little time had passed, they stepped toward the door, then stopped and started back this way, then stopped again.
They were saying something I couldn’t make out.
If they did go down the back hallway toward the kitchen, I’d have to move fast. I wish I knew which one had the gun. I’d need to attack him first. But there was no way for me to know.
In another moment, they headed toward the front door and walked out of the building.
44
Back beneath the blood moon.
Bat in one hand, Anna’s hand in the other.
Moving quickly, but carefully, making a wide swing around the right side of the upper compound that brought us close to the perimeter fence.
“What about the perimeter patrol?” she said.
The prison was encircled by an asphalt road that was patrolled during each shift by an armed officer in a vehicle. If we stayed near the perimeter fence long enough, he’d eventually drive by.
“I thought about trying to wait out here and get his attention earlier, but figured he’d be working with them. No way Randy Wayne wouldn’t have one of his guys out there.”
“Maybe,” she said. “Or maybe he doesn’t have any more guys. Maybe he thought he’d be able to take us out quickly and quietly in the chapel hours ago.”
“Maybe,” I said. “We can risk it if you think we should.”
“Might not have a choice eventually, then it’d be less of a risk.”
“How are you feeling?”
She was wearing a pair of sneakers I had in my office, under which were three pairs of thick socks. When I had returned to the kitchen with them, she was sitting on the floor, her back leaning against one of the cabinets, the front of her pants wet with blood.
In that moment, the fact that none of the kitchen outlets had power became a secondary consideration.
“I’m okay,” she said. “Feet much better. Still
bleeding some, but can’t tell how much. Pain’s not too bad. Some in my abdomen. Mostly just achy. I can move faster if we need to.”
Suddenly, something was there in front of me, and I tripped. Letting go of Anna’s hand so I didn’t pull her down with me, I hit the ground and rolled, coming up with the bat as soon as I stopped.
“Chaplain, it’s me,” Cardigan said. “Don’t swing.”
“Ronnie?”
“Yeah.”
I got to my feet and moved back over to Anna.
“What’re you doing out here?”
“This is where I’ve been the whole time. Thought I’d just lie out here in the dark and wait for daybreak and shift change or . . . I didn’t know what else to do.”
Something Lao Tzu said popped into my head. In dwelling, live close to the ground. In thinking, keep to the simple. In conflict, be fair and generous.
I had listened to the Tao Te Ching audio book many, many times, and the voice in my head was that of the narrator.
“There are worse plans,” I said.
Finding him here made me realize that we were all staying on the right side of the upper compound, which was what Randy Wayne and the others had to expect. Perhaps we’d be safer and have a better chance on the opposite side––behind the Library, Education, PRIDE printing plant, and Food Services, but to get there meant we’d have to cross the road and an open area of some fifty yards where we could be more easily seen.
“If I’m gonna die, it’s not gonna be in a cage, but out here under this magic moon.”
I nodded, appreciating the sentiment, though I doubted he could see it.
I had been so busy trying to survive and keep us alive, I hadn’t taken the time to prepare to die or consider how I wanted to if it came to that.
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
If I died wasn’t ultimately up to me. How I died was.
How do I want to die?
Without fear. At peace. Trying to live, trying to protect Anna and preserve both our lives––but not in a thoughtless, panicked, frenzied way. In a Zen way, doing all I can, then stepping back and accepting what is. I wanted to die on my feet, attempting to do the right thing for the right reasons. I wanted to die honorably. I wanted to be able, though I wasn’t sure I could, to have compassion for my killer, to love and forgive with my final breath.
Innocent Blood; Blood Money; Blood Moon Page 55