by Chuck Buda
Swede nodded. He filled the doorway, glaring across the room in search of BJ.
“At ease, soldier. The battle is young. It’s the war we need to keep our focus on.”
Swede farted. He ducked under Jack’s bunk onto his own mattress. Before Jack got a whiff of it, he made sure to bust Swede’s balls.
“I thought you smelled bad on the outside.”
Swede broke into laughter below him. Jack enjoyed the light-hearted mirth of his friend. It was a rare moment. One which came far less frequently these days. Jack realized he had been going hard for far too long now. He closed his eyes and imagined a time when he could walk outside the walls of Warsaw Prison again.
Freely.
Chapter 16
Luna listened to what they said about her. At first, she let the comments slide. Over time, each remark singed her flesh, leaving more and more scar tissue behind. Her state of mind had become increasingly more volatile. She teetered on the edge of a cliff with hardly a solid object to grasp onto.
Maria had been more distant too. That bothered Luna. Ever since she had been incarcerated, Luna had had Maria to comfort and console her. Maria understood more of Luna’s personality than she knew of herself. The Latina connection. Maria truly understood what it meant to be a Latina from the streets. The pressures to be a strong woman juxtaposed with the “ownership” from the men. Women were objects to possess. Servants to cook and clean and take care of the ninos. Maria knew what a struggle it was to stand her ground and take no shit.
Once Luna aired her doubts and the fears which rippled through her sanity, Maria had distanced herself. She started spending more time with Diandre and Shanika. Maria knew Luna was frightened by Shanika. Perhaps she built the buffer zone utilizing the one woman Luna wanted least to be around. Luna had no qualms with Diandre, although she couldn’t relate to the woman.
Bo and Tracee had been respectful. Luna never heard either one comment on her fragility. If they spoke about Luna, Bo and Tracee did it discretely.
Unlike Maria and Shanika.
Luna quickly found herself on an island. Alone. With nobody to lean on. No ear to listen to how she felt inside. Because of the dwindling support system, Luna started talking to herself. The self talk was internal at first. But slowly, Luna allowed the internal voice to come through her mouth. She’d be so lost in her melancholy that she would forget the others were within range. Until they laughed or made hushed comments about how she was losing her shit. Most of the criticism wasn’t meant to be heard, but Luna paid close attention. She picked up the hurtful words and further internalized the pain. It was really the purposeful comments that bled her the most. The times the girls outwardly condemned Luna for talking to herself. The names they called her directly to her face. Puta loco. Mama frita. And more than the words, it was always the malice behind the eyes. The threat of insinuated violence behind the meanings.
Those hurt the most.
“Not time yet. I’ll do it.”
Luna scratched at her forehead. She caught Maria shaking her head, turning toward Shanika. The pair were probably talking about her now. Luna wanted to hurry over and yank Maria’s hair until she screamed for mercy.
But she wouldn’t do it.
Luna scampered back to her bed. She crawled under the blanket, pulling it far above her head and tucking it under her shoulders. Luna’s feet poked through the opposite end of the blanket. But she didn’t care. Keeping her head and face covered is what protected her from the others. At least, in her mind. Luna remembered her mother telling her to hide her face under the covers whenever she got scared in the middle of the night. She said it was what she had done when she was nina. If she couldn’t see the monsters under the bed or in the closet, then they couldn’t see her either. Luna had lived by her mami’s advice for years. Old habits die hard.
Luna didn’t want to die. She sensed the end nearing. All the signs of the apocalypse had darkened the doors of D-Pod. The virus. The Warden. The zombies. The sands of time were sliding through the hourglass and piling up in the graves beneath their feet.
“If I have to, I’ll do it. Don’t want to.”
Luna chewed her fingernails to keep from speaking aloud. Through the blanket over her head, Luna heard a few distant remarks about the “crazy one” and how she was “falling apart.” A shard of fingernail stabbed her gums, drawing a fresh drop of blood. Luna sucked at her teeth to swallow the blood away. She couldn’t let them see her bleed. It was be another sign of weakness. And inside the prison, weakness got you marked for beatings and rape and death.
Luna twisted over on the mattress. She breathed into the pillow, feeling the heat of her breath reflecting back to her face. It quickly got too hot for her to bear. Luna swiped the blanket off her head and sat up on the bunk.
Maria stood in the doorway.
Shanika and Diandre stood on either side of Maria.
They’d come to kill her.
Luna knew it would only be a matter of time.
She howled at the top of her lungs and hurled herself at the trio in the door frame. Her speed surprised them. Nobody got a hand up to deflect the charge. Luna’s head struck Maria’s nose as she blasted into the wall of people. Her arms flailed and caught Diandre in the head. Shanika had been able to dodge just in time, avoiding a direct impact, but still absorbing a fist to the back of her head.
All three women grabbed at Luna. They tore at her clothes and scratched her skin. Luna’s hair tugged violently to the right, nearly tearing free from her scalp. The pain was tremendous and liberating simultaneously. Luna ignored the curses and the shouting. All she focused on was damaging the larger women before they hurt her. If she was going to die at their hands, then Luna decided she would take one or all of them with her.
As quickly as the tumult had begun, Luna found herself on the hard floor of the bunk room. Shanika was on top of her, punching her body while Bo and Tracee tugged Maria and Diandre away.
Luna gave up the battle. She had taken too many shots and figured she had done her best even if it wasn’t good enough. She sobbed and blubbered until Shanika disappeared. It had taken both Bo and Tracee to remove Shanika from the room.
Luna was all alone again. Instead of holding herself in her bunk, she cradled her bruised and bloodied body on the cold, hard floor.
Chapter 17
“POD SWEEP. POD SWEEP. GET THE FUCK BACK.”
Jack had been snoozing in his bunk when the doors kicked open. He had just nodded off after deliberating some more on how to get to Muncie and Gorgon. The relaxation ended abruptly once the guards rushed in with all the noise.
He slid off his bed and groggily shuffled to the common area. His mind, still half asleep, felt far away from the real present danger that had invaded the pod.
“You think you’re special, Jack? Like orders don’t apply to you?” Muncie waved his baton in the air as he came toward Jack.
Jack immediately held his hands high in the air, realizing he was not prepared to go toe to toe with Muncie - physically or mentally. Muncie jammed the baton into Jack’s stomach. As Jack falter along one of the tables, Muncie pressed his weight down on Jack, breathing hard in his face.
“Been dreaming about me? Getting hard thinking about what I’m going to do to you?”
Jack squeezed his eyes shut against Muncie’s horrendous breath. He kept his mouth shut even though his wit had conjured up a few choice one-liners to volley back the guard.
On the other side of the common area, a lone voice carried on. Jack swore the voice sounded like a small child. A hysterical mix of crying and high-pitched whining. It took several moments for him to figure out who was making all the racket.
Frenchie.
Muncie shouted to his men without taking his lips away from Jack’s face. “Shut that fucker up. Now!”
The noise continued even while the guards applied physical pressure to silence Frenchie. Muncie lost his temper. He demanded Frenchie be handled properly. It irritated him so m
uch, Muncie let go of Jack and stormed over to the other side of the room.
“Shut that fucking nigger up. Do it or I will do it for you.”
The two guards who held Frenchie against the wall began striking him with their night sticks. The sound of hard wood connecting with softer tissue and bone echoed off the dreary walls. Frenchie screamed, dropping to the floor. The men clubbed him a few more times before Muncie stepped to the plate. He elbowed both guards away.
“Move your asses, you fucking pussies.”
Muncie raised his baton high in the air. As he hammered the hickory home, a swooshing sound broke the oxygen molecules to provide a seamless connection with Frenchie’s skull.
The cries stopped instantaneously.
Frenchie collapsed all the way down, out cold or dead. Jack didn’t care which. As long as Muncie stayed over on that side, Jack would be happy.
“Drag this pole smoker outta here.” Muncie barked in the faces of his men. They struggled to lift Frenchie, placing one of his arms around their necks. Muncie shoved the guard closest to him.
“I said drag him. Not carry him to tea like a seventy-year-old bitch. The fuck is wrong with you two?”
Jack stymied a chuckle. Any time Muncie lost his shit it provided Jack with a tremendous amount of pleasure. He swallowed the happiness down before Muncie returned for more trouble.
And returned he did.
Jack watched as Muncie stomped over to him. He nudged Jack’s gut with his slovenly belly.
“Looks like today is your lucky day, Turk. I was hoping to take you on a little adventure but your gay friend distracted me.” Muncie’s eyes darted in their sockets, searching for the slightest bit of disrespect in Jack’s countenance.
“Unless your friends here would rather I take you anyway. I heard you’re not so popular anymore. What’s the matter, don’t like to swallow anymore?”
Jack breathed slowly, controlling his urges to make a snide remark or rage against his enemy.
Muncie spun around. “Let’s see by a show of hands, who here wants Jack to go play in the cage?”
Several hands went up. Slowly, but up nonetheless. Jack took inventory of those who voted against him. He stared at BJ across the room. BJ never raised his hand, but he nodded his head as if he agreed with the proposal.
“How many would rather the faggot go to the cage?”
More hands hit the air. Muncie took a mental count. He groaned, obviously disappointed with the democratic process.
“It’s really your lucky day, Turk. If we were in Florida, we’d be here all night recounting all the votes.” Muncie laughed so hard that spit drooled from his lower lip.
Muncie got a hold of himself.
“What about you, Jack. You didn’t vote. Should it be the pillow biter or you? Be careful...it could be the swing vote.” Muncie’s grin stretched wide.
“Fuck that faggot. I hated him anyway.”
Muncie stopped grinning for a second. The just as suddenly, he broke into laughter again.
“That’s the Jack I know and love. The guy who’d fuck everyone over in a heartbeat. I knew I could count on you, Jack.”
Muncie started to head for the door with his guards. He paused to face Jack from a distance.
“We’re not done, Jack. The time is still coming for us to dance.”
Jack forced himself not to blink. He wanted to be sure that Muncie paid attention to his confidence even if he didn’t play ball this time around. Looking away or blinking would show weakness.
Jack Turk had no weakness when it came to Muncie.
The sound of laughter and shouted commands diminished as the men exited the pod. Once the door slammed shut into place, the sound of Muncie or anybody else beyond the walls of the pod disappeared.
Jack folded his arms, resting his legs against the table. The men who had voted for Jack to die in the cage hurried to the safety of their rooms. Jack smiled inside. They might be safe tonight. But I have their numbers in the ledger now. Debits across the board.
Jack spat on the floor and went back to his room. He climbed up into his bunk and closed his eyes again.
As he returned to plans of escape, Jack noticed his irregular heartbeat and the trembling in his arms and legs. Maintaining control of his emotions had taken a toll on his blood pressure. The surge of adrenaline would linger for a while but it would keep Jack awake long enough to get some serious thinking done.
Chapter 18
The door smashed open, shocking the female inmates. Several groups of women ran from the onrushing guards. One cluster of prisoners stayed put at their table, choosing to keep their hands in the air, surrendering to whatever the guards wanted them to do.
Bo and Tracee moved forward a few steps. Their concern for what might be coming etched deep in the lines of their faces.
The commands were loud and clear. Freeze in place or suffer the consequences. As the guards streamed in, Janie moved to the front of the pack. Her imposing stature loomed before the women of D-Pod. She nodded at Bo, indicating she needed a word. Bo felt a pit spreading in her belly. She tried to control the shaking in her hands as she figured she had been chosen to be the next doomed combatant in the cage.
Janie stepped nearer, trying to keep her voice low even though the pod was library quiet.
“I’m sorry I have to do this.”
Bo’s heart sank a few inches lower in her chest.
“I need to take someone. It doesn’t matter who.”
Bo brightened inside for a moment. She wouldn’t have to be the one to go. Then she realized the decision was solely hers to send someone to their untimely death. The blood surged through her veins, pumping heartache through her system.
“Who’s it gonna be?”
Bo wavered. As de-facto pod boss, self-promoted and unanimously approved of by her cellmates, the responsibility weighed on her. She scanned the worried faces around her, taking in the abject fear and hearing the silent prayers from each soul, whispering to the Lord, “Please don’t let it be me.”
Unfortunately, Bo had thought about her decision in advance. She had planned for a moment like this, knowing full well the time would come when the pod would need to make a sacrifice. A sacrifice in blood in order to save the greater good. It wasn’t a decision she had taken lightly. It had eaten away at her humanity to even consider such a choice. But in the end, it would be somebody...or somebody else. One would die. Plain and simple.
Of course, Bo reasoned, she could still volunteer herself. That had been one of the options. She knew she stood a greater chance of surviving the fight. Surviving wasn’t the proper term. Lasting the longest against the monsters. Even Bo would die at their hands eventually. How could you kill something that was already dead? Bo knew there was a slim chance of cracking the skull of the creature.
“Could I choose myself?” Bo heard a relieved sigh resonate behind her.
Janie narrowed her eyes, her brow tightened as she considered Bo’s question.
“The choice is yours.”
Bo stared at her feet.
“We both know throwing yourself into the cage is not in the best interest of these people.”
Bo found herself stunned at Janie’s comment. She tried to determine why Janie made the statement. Was Bo the one Janie wanted as a sex toy? Or did Janie honestly care about the prisoners like she had appeared in the past, sharing information and looking out for the women? Bo knew in her heart of hearts that Janie was right. The most difficult decision was to damn one of the others. Volunteering herself was a tell-tale sign of weakness. Anybody could give in to save their friends. It was a whole different caliber of toughness to look someone in the face and tell them their time was up.
“Luna.”
A gasp reverberated through the common area. Maria screamed out against the choice.
“No. You can’t do this.”
Shanika wrapped her arms around Maria, fighting to restrain her from going after Bo. Janie pursed her lips and nodded. Her he
ad bobbed and two guards went for Luna. As the reality of the choice sank in, Luna dropped to her knees, silently throwing in the towel.
“You fucking cunt. Why don’t you go yourself? Pick me. Pick any one of these putas. Not her. Not Luna.”
Maria’s struggle increased to the point Shanika could no longer contain her friend alone. Diandre and Tracee moved in to help restrain Maria. Their faces saddened with the burden of knowing the choice hadn’t been easy. They knew, like every other woman present, their own name could have been tossed in the ring.
Bo went to Maria. She stood up straight and looked Maria in the eyes. “I’m sorry.” Maria’s lips trembled. She squeezed her eyes shut and let the tears flow freely. Bo caressed Maria’s cheek. Diandre swallowed up Maria’s smaller frame as she collapsed in grief between the large woman’s bosom.
Bo hurried across the pod. She wanted to make peace with Luna. If peace was would it could be considered. It was more like put herself at peace.
“Wait.”
The guards held up so Bo could speak with Luna. Janie nodded her consent. Bo stepped before Luna, staring deep into the reddened eyes that would soon be void of life.
“Remember what we taught you. Be strong. You are so much more than a frail person.” Bo choked back her own tears. “The frail person you always pretended to be. We all know there is a lion inside you. You just never had a chance to show it. Now is your chance.”
Luna stiffened. Bo waited for Luna to spit in her face. Or for the big “Fuck You” that would be a logical reaction of anyone in Luna’s shoes. Instead, Luna whispered to Bo.
“Thank you.” Luna kissed Bo’s cheek. “I needed to get out of here. I can’t take it anymore.”
Bo tried to comprehend the grace with which Luna went to the grave. She would never have guessed that Luna, the soft and sensitive little girl, would be capable of such a moment of gravity, standing tall with confidence.
The guards ushered Luna out the door. Janie forced a terse smile acknowledging her apologies as she followed her staff.