by Jon Mills
“Twelve people?”
“It’s not about numbers, Jack. I used to think it was. It’s about leverage. Why don’t those prisoners push back? Why don’t they fight the guards like they did in that riot? Simple. They know we can remove privileges and make their life hard when they come up for their parole hearing.”
“So you managed to save some money. Good for you,” Jack said with an edge to his voice.
Lázaro smiled and sipped at his coffee. “That’s not all. Men with all that pent-up frustration need an outlet but more than that, they need hope. I provide that. Every week, we hold a fight inside the compound. The winner receives time off their sentence, the loser, well… I’m sure you can figure that out.”
“So pit the men against each other like dogs.”
“We all have a dog inside of us, two to be exact. The good and the bad.”
“Spare me the story. I’ve heard it before.”
“Then you know who wins, yes?”
Jack rocked his head back and rolled it around.
“Where are you going with this?” Jack asked growing impatient with him.
“You want freedom. I can give you that. But without money, you will earn it. I’m sure the coordinators have explained the rules inside the compound. There are no free handouts, everything is earned on a reward system. You have to work for it. But what I am offering you here is a sure way to fast-track yourself and your brother out of Danlí Prison.”
“You want us to fight?”
“Not each other. Others.”
“And if I win?”
“I reduce your sentence. How many years were you given? Twenty, thirty?”
“Nineteen,” Jack muttered. He could feel his blood boiling inside of him. He knew a setup when he saw one.
“So?” Lázaro asked.
“What about my brother?”
“Yeah, that’s where it gets a little tricky. He’s a good fighter but not an agreeable inmate.”
Jack frowned.
“He refused to fight.”
“So you placed him in solitary?”
“Just for now, until he comes around. I hoped that you might do that. I mean, I might not get through to him but you could.”
Jack stepped back and studied Lázaro.
“And what do you get out of this?”
“A peaceful prison.”
“Bullshit.”
He smirked and came around his desk and leaned back against it, perched on the edge.
“Do you know how much they pay a warden in Honduras, Jack?”
“A lot by the looks of your home and flashy cars.”
“Oh I think you’re smart enough to know my salary didn’t pay for all of that.”
Jack shrugged.
“In the USA. Fifty-eight thousand. Down here. Barely one-tenth of that.”
“So you steal from Americans? Is that it?”
“Oh, I’m offended, Jack. That you would think I would do that just for a hundred thousand?”
“Not just for a hundred.”
“Perhaps you are smarter than you let on. I have friends that wager money on the fights. But that’s neither here nor there. The real question is, how much do you want your freedom?”
Jack eyed him.
“How many fights?”
“You’ve been given nineteen years? So nineteen fights.”
Sixteen - Fight Fire with Fire
Jack made a deal with Lázaro that he would speak with his brother on one condition. That he was released back into general population. Lázaro was hesitant at first to do that but then he agreed. He warned him that if he screwed up, both of them would get thrown back in the hole and he wouldn’t be as lenient next time.
After being returned to his cellblock he kind of expected that the shit would hit the fan. Pueblo had eyes on him and now he was back he’d have to keep a lookout for him. Upon returning to his cell, Ernesto put him back to work collecting water, emptying buckets full of shitty tissues and cleaning floors. While he didn’t enjoy it, it kept his mind occupied.
He was filling a bucket when he felt a hand on his back. Jack turned to find Noah.
“I’m guessing I have you to thank for getting me out.”
“Don’t sing my praises yet,” Jack replied, his eyes narrowed.
Noah shook his hand and patted him on the shoulder. It was the first time he’d seen him beyond the photos. There was some resemblance between them. Though the photos hadn’t done him an justice, he was larger in person and had packed on some weight and muscle since.
“You don’t look like the same man I saw in the photos.”
“Oh she showed you those, did she?”
He nodded. Noah stared around at the other inmates, keeping an eye out for anyone who might attack. There was no respect in prisons — only opportunity. If a man’s back was turned they wouldn’t think twice about shanking him in the kidneys.
Noah followed him back to his cell. Once he had wrapped up cleaning the floors, they wandered off to have a smoke. Cigarettes were like everything else in there. There was a price but he had worked out an agreement with a guard. What he exchanged was unknown as he told Jack he’d be back in a few minutes. From a distance Jack observed him talk to a guard beyond the gate, and then he saw him slip Noah a packet of cigarettes and matches. There was something more to Noah that his mother hadn’t shared. She gave him the impression he was a clean-cut guy who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Was that true?
They strolled to the far end of the courtyard and he offered Jack a cigarette, they lit up and watched a crowd of inmates kicking a ball around.
“So how do you think they got drugs into your bag?” Jack asked.
Noah blew out smoke looking all relaxed. It was unusual to see someone new to prison life looking as though they had spent the better part of ten years in there.
“They didn’t,” he said.
Jack frowned. “Run that by me again.”
“No one snuck drugs into my bag. Those were mine.”
“What?”
He snorted. “Oh right, mother passed on the version I gave her.”
He gripped the bridge of his nose feeling a tension headache coming on. “Are you telling me that what landed you in here was of your own accord?”
“It was a mistake. A misunderstanding. There was a mix-up in shift changes and the guy who was paid to look the other way wasn’t on shift. And being as the next one hadn’t been paid, well, I wound up here.”
Jack dropped the cigarette and crushed it beneath his boot.
“You were taking drugs?”
“Not taking, I’m not that stupid. Selling. It’s a lucrative business.”
Jack grabbed a hold of him by the collar and slammed him up against the wall, he tried to push back but it was useless, Jack was stronger.
“She thought you were set up.”
“I was. Nothing I told her was a lie, Jack. I was set up by the man I bought drugs from. He knew about the shift change. He was disgruntled because I owed him money. I bent the truth a little. I’m sure you’ve done that from time to time.”
Through gritted teeth Jack spoke. He was seething. “I came down here to get your ass out of prison. I risked life and limb only to end up here and lose a hundred grand.”
“I didn’t ask her to get me out.”
“But you knew she would try.”
“She’s my mother.”
Jack shook his head and released his grip. It was one thing to have ended up in prison because someone had planted drugs, quite another to know the drugs were bought by Noah and he’d planned to sneak them back into the USA for distribution.
He was fuming.
Right then Chepe and several of the coordinators shouted for the inmates to line up. Jack cast a glance over his shoulder, glared at his brother and joined the line. He saw Henry emerge from a building. His eyes widened when he caught sight of Noah. It was the small things that kept them sane.
“Listen up, a forest
fire has started and like usual we are the ones being called in to assist. Anyone who wants to help, line up.”
It was a common procedure in the United States. Battling raging wildfires was handled by state fire services but a third of them were prisoners. It gave inmates a way to earn money and get an early release by doing an exhausting, grimy and dangerous job. They didn’t get paid much, it was about $2 an hour, less down in Honduras. It wasn’t mandatory but by the looks of how many were lined up, everyone down here was taking full of advantage of it.
As they streamed out, each of them was assigned a number and told to get into a line that corresponded to that number. Jack glanced off to his side and saw Pueblo glaring at him. From there, they were taken in trucks from the compound by armed guards to a local fire service and equipped with the essentials, such as orange overalls, backpacks, construction hats and tools.
Jack had always thought it was a little insane to send out violent criminals to fight fires alongside the public. They might not have given them a chainsaw but they were all given hoes and rakes. Those were deadly weapons in the hands of a prisoner.
A firefighter dressed in black stepped in front of them all and shouted in Spanish.
“Listen up, my name is Leonel Silver. We don’t have time to deal with any issues today. You want to act like a firefighter, I will treat you like one, if you want to act like a prisoner, I will treat you like one. I do both well. You decide.” He stopped for a second and turned to another firefighter and gave him some instructions. “There is a forest fire that is threatening the main water sources in the region. This will be a long day, so let’s get started.”
Though several armed guards went with the crew of sixty that left that day, it was Chepe and coordinators who appeared to be keeping everyone in line.
Everyone piled into the back of multiple red trucks. There was enough room in each for up to about ten people but they packed in close to twenty. Pueblo wasn’t inside his truck otherwise he figured he’d try something.
The truck rumbled to life and peeled away. Men stared at the floor. It was hot, sweaty and the worst conditions possible, and yet it was better than being stuck inside those walls. Along the way, Noah looked over at Jack and though he was on the other side of the truck, he could tell that the dynamics between them had changed. It wasn't just the fact he’d lied to their mother that bothered him. It was that he had tried to help someone who he thought had been imprisoned falsely. There was nothing false about it. And yet now Liz was relying on him to get Noah out. The only way out was attempting to escape over a wall or fighting. Neither appealed to him.
They flooded out of the back of the trucks upon reaching the destination, which was over an hour away. Leonel Silver barked out orders.
“Someone grab the hose and fittings. You guys over there get in line and make you way up.”
It was a long trek up a road that wound its way around the forest. They could already hear the wood crackling in the distance farther up the mountain. There was a slight breeze. The smell of smoke permeated the air.
Jack kept his eyes peeled for trouble. It wasn’t just prisoners wielding tools that bothered him but all the trees that had been charred and might collapse at any moment. He heard a helicopter circling overhead, and then it felt like it was raining for a minute as droplets of water fell from above.
“Guys, to contain the fire we will create a line around it, now get started.”
The inmates fell in and scraped at the earth to form a barrier line of dirt. It was called a firebreak. The whole point of it was to remove deadwood and undergrowth so that all that remained was soil. This naturally occurred when there was a river, lake or canyon but in the forest, it had to be man-made.
After about twenty minutes, Chepe came along and yelled at the inmates. “Hey, we are not gardening here. Put your back into it.”
Jack watched as the coordinators wandered up and down the line. There were too many inmates to watch all of them at the same time and by the looks Pueblo was throwing Jack’s way, he kind of figured shit was about to kick off.
Jack tightened his grip on the rake and readied himself.
What he didn’t expect was what happened next.
Henry broke line and charged towards Pueblo but was quickly taken out of commission by one of Pueblo’s guys who swung his hoe and caught him on the side of the head. Henry hit the dirt on the steep slope and rolled down. That only incited Noah. He went to react but Jack grabbed his arm.
“Wait!”
Noah looked back at him and then noticed Chepe rushing over, screaming at the men in Spanish. They backed off and he wanted to know what happened. It had occurred so fast, and he’d been looking the other way, that it was hard to tell who had struck first. All he could see was that someone had assaulted Henry. Chepe gestured to a few men to collect him. Henry was groaning a quarter of the way down the slope. A tree had broken his fall and probably a few ribs.
“That bastard,” Noah muttered.
Pueblo looked over at Jack and grinned. It wasn’t over. He’d get what was coming to him but they had to be smart about it. Barreling in there the way Henry had, all full of emotion over being raped, would not cut it. These guys were used to having a target on their backs. And under the watchful eye of Chepe and the firefighters, it wasn’t the place to start a riot.
The men hauled Henry back to the top of the steep incline and carried him off to get medical attention. Chepe went down the line asking if anyone saw what happened. No one said a word. That’s just how it worked inside. It wasn’t worth it.
But Jack wouldn't stand by. He wanted to make it damn clear he wasn’t scared of Pueblo. He gestured to Chepe and he came over. Jack muttered in his ear while looking at Pueblo. Out of earshot, he wasn’t telling him that Pueblo’s men were to blame, only that he wanted to get himself a drink but he wanted it to appear as though he was snitching on him.
At least that way he might draw the attention away from Henry, as no doubt he would be punished twice as hard for his attempt on Pueblo’s life.
As the day passed and the sun waned, they were all given a fifteen-minute break. Guys tossed down their backpacks and leaned back on them, staring out across the valley. Some knocked back water or chewed on apples that had been handed out. There was a sense of accomplishment in knowing they had saved people’s homes, and yet Jack could feel the tension brewing.
“See them over there,” Noah said leaning on his side while chewing. He was gesturing to Chepe and the firefighters who would occasionally disappear down the line of men. “I’ve been timing it, we have maybe a three-minute window, four tops. You up for it?”
“Don’t be stupid, you’ll be shot before you even make it a few yards.”
“Hell, if we stay in here any longer we will die anyway.”
“Maybe not,” Jack said. “I spoke with the warden today about fighting.”
“Fighting? Freedom? Oh, that bullshit? It’s what he tells the inmates to get them to fight.”
“So why did you stop?”
“Because I’m not into killing men.”
“What?”
“Oh, he left that part out, did he?” He smirked and took another large bite of the red apple. “What do you think happens to the loser?”
“He wouldn’t dare.”
“Wouldn’t he? Who will tell? Hell, people die inside Danlí every day, and there are always new ones coming in. How else do you think they handle the overcrowded prisons down here? It’ s not like the UN Human Rights Council will step in. Down here, Jack, no one cares unless you have money.” He rubbed his finger and thumb together.
“Did you fight?” Jack asked.
“For a while. Two men, the second was an American. A friend of mine. Leland Winters.”
He stopped talking and stared down at the ground.
“And?”
“I wouldn’t fight him so they gave us a choice. Fight or get thrown in the hole. I didn’t want to but we fought and once I had knocked him
out, Lázaro wanted me to finish him.” He snorted and shook his head before tossing the apple core down the slope and then getting up.
“Did you kill him?”
“No, they tossed me in the hole.”
“So what happened to him?”
“Pueblo finished him off.”
Noah brushed the dirt from his pants.
“To win a bet?” Jack asked.
He snorted. “You think he drives around in fancy cars and lives in a fine house from the money he gets from betting? Think again. He sells their organs on the black market.”
Seventeen - Courtyard Animals
The next morning at breakfast, all the inmates that had helped out were exhausted. The night had passed without incident. Jack had expected Pueblo to show up but Ernesto informed him that rarely did anyone attack the day after hard labor, and with the fights arranged, few needed to put their neck on the line when they could settle it in the cage.
Jack was scooping warm oats into his mouth when he felt a pat on his shoulder. At first, he thought it was his brother. When he turned he found Pueblo. He leaned over and coughed up a wad of phlegm and spat it into his food.
“I will see you tonight.”
Jack wanted to react and he would but to do so in that moment would have been premature and earned him a one-way ticket into the hole. Noah however couldn’t restrain himself. He leapt up and smashed his metal tray into the face of one of Pueblo’s men. Now Jack had no choice. As Pueblo turned to react, Jack swiveled around and smashed him hard in the nuts. As he doubled over in pain, Jack followed through with an uppercut knocking him back into another guy.
That’s when all chaos broke out.
The coordinators rushed in to break it up but were swiftly dealt with by other men who had got caught up in the rumble. What started as a fight between two men escalated into an all-out brawl, spreading like wildfire.
Prisoners lashed out at each other with anything they had in their hands.
Over the top of the fence, multiple smoke grenades were fired by guards trying to cause further confusion, but all it did was give inmates cover to beat, stab and even fire a few rounds. Grown men hit the ground at the sound of gunfire while others scrambled for cover as more shots erupted.