It was a long and painful walk back to his quarters back to his quarters. The sun was masked behind the clouds. The cool autumn air was howling through the cold canyon of the city’s skyscrapers. The impending storm only added weight to Jon’s already heavy heart. He had developed feelings for Sinda. Maybe they were misplaced. Maybe they were feelings for something he wanted but couldn’t have. He didn’t care. Her smile brought a light into his world he didn’t think could exist in it – at least not in this town. But it was the very feeling of something bright, something which he could love that weighed him down. How could he do this to himself? How could he do this to Sinda? There was only one way this was going to end, with Jon dead and Sinda in the group housing project – at best.
How could something so wonderful and bright end in such misery and darkness? In this town, why should love mean an end instead of a beginning? Jon began to purge the thoughts from his mind. They were weighing on him so much he noticed he was barely walking anymore. The fact that he hadn’t slept may have had something to do with it as well. He continued until he finally navigated the maze and back to his quarters, and up the longer than usual 27 flights of stairs. He stumbled down the empty, lifeless hallway until he came to that old door marked “10.”
“Welcome home, Jonathan Ballard,” came the voice over the loudspeakers. “I hope you had a productive day…”
Before Jon could suffer through one more syllable he tore his jacket off in a fury, wrapped it around his head, smothered his ears with his hands and let out a long, loud scream. What did he care? Everybody in this building would have been at work anyway. He couldn’t take the redundancy anymore. He couldn’t handle the microscopic management of the party into his life. After the voice over the loudspeaker was through he ran over to the window and turned the dimmer all the way up to shield his eyes from that hideous poster flapping in the wind. He threw his jacket against the wall and collapsed on the bed.
He was panting and sweating with fury and exhaustion. He stared at his arms, sitting on top of his legs for a few moments. Until he noticed what was on the floor beneath them.
Cowboys.
Jon picked up the book and turned the pages to where he had left off.
Johnny sat crammed in that tiny little rectangle they called a cell. It was so small he could sit on the bed with his back pressed against the wall, and brace his legs against the wall on the other side. It was a cot sized bed. There was just enough room to let him know that there wasn’t enough of it. He stared at the back of his hands as he pondered in his mind, trying to drown out the belligerent singing of the drunk a few cells down. The sound of keys smacking against each other and boots walking made their way down the hall.
“You ready to go before the judge, boy?” the Sheriff asked Johnny as he tapped on the bars of his cell with his baton.
Johnny didn’t even so much as turn his head to address the Sheriff. “You’ll never get away with this.”
“Boy, there’s nuthin to get away with. You’re in prison, which means you’s guilty. Simple as that.”
Johnny stood in the tiny space he had to stand against the bars and made direct eye contact with his jailer.
“Lies only beget more lies. You can bury the truth, but you will never hide it. You can’t bury a light in the dark, Sheriff.” Johnny placed his hands through the bars in order to be cuffed so the Sheriff could open the doors.
The Sheriff said nothing in response. Instead he offered up a loud gulp of insecurity. He cuffed Johnny, opened his cell and began walking him to the courthouse.
Johnny stood before the judge with his shoulders square and his head held high. The judge spoke his charges.
“Johnny B. Washington, you are charged with one account of arson, and two accounts of murder.”
“Murder, your honor?” Johnny asked with fright in his voice.
The judge paused before answering, “your wife and child.”
Johnny looked at the Sheriff as he answered the judge, “My wife and child are still alive, your honor.”
“Please plead guilty or not guilty.”
“Not guilty, your honor.”
The judge set a court date and the Sheriff began escorting Johnny back to his cell. In the short distance between the jail and the courthouse Johnny asked the Sheriff one question.
“Why are you doing this to me?”
The Sheriff stopped as they approached the jail and shoved him against the side of the building. “You’re not welcome in this town, Johnny. You had a chance to leave but you didn’t take it. You’re a liability. We can’t have you around no more.”
“You’re all corrupt,” retorted Johnny.
“That’s exactly what I mean,” the Sheriff was in Johnny’s face. “You’re always lookin for trouble where there doesn’t need to be none. You come sniffin’ around when nothin’s cookin’. Mr. Johnny-do-good seen his last day on the farm.”
Johnny spoke deep and authoritatively, “You know, Sheriff? The truth is like fire. If you try to put it out with your own hand, you just get burned.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Johnny got back in his face, “it means you should have brought your posse.”
He head-butted the Sheriff then gave him a double-fisted upper cut, enough to knock the Sheriff to the ground. Johnny put his boot to his throat as he grabbed the jail keys from his belt. He gave the Sheriff one swift kick across the face to make sure he stayed down. As he ran he unshackled himself and headed to the edge of town and then the mountains….
Jon rolled to his side and made a nice, long yawn. He rolled back onto his back and stared at the ceiling for a moment. He noticed Cowboys had fallen to the floor, crumpling a number of the pages. Jon had fallen asleep in the middle of reading. Very slowly and reluctantly he made his way to his feet and gave himself a stretch. Then suddenly, it was like a punch across the face. He had completely forgotten. He had told Sinda to meet him outside of his building. He wasn’t sure of the time, or what time he told her or if she’d even show, but he was willing to waste an entire evening in the alley waiting for her – whether she showed up or not.
He gave each side of his face a few soft slaps to coax him out of his sleepy state. He threw his jacket back on and headed to the door and down the long flight of stairs.
He came out into the alley on his way toward the street. It was already getting dark, the fall sun set earlier and earlier each day. It must have been close to eight. If Sinda was going to show, Jon was confident he hadn’t missed her. He paced nervously up and back through the little alley. What was he supposed to say if she did show up? What was he going to do with her when she got here? Then it finally began to sink into his worried mind. The couple across the street. He had watched in horror as the ghost soldiers assaulted the living quarter and had hauled the two off to wherever it was those types of offenders were hauled off to. What was he thinking? He was putting himself and Sinda in danger, danger of the retribution of anybody who crossed the party lines. Then he remembered a fuzzy detail about his adventure the night before.
He was wearing the sleeve that the dwellers had him put on. It was supposed to scramble any signals coming and going from his encrypted data. It must have worked because nobody had kidnapped him and dragged him back to see the general – yet. Back and forth he paced, wondering about everything and anything that could go wrong in this risky scenario. On top of the fear of the party laws that were perpetually hanging over his head, he had no idea how to entertain company, let alone a woman. He had been alone ever since he left the public housing project. He was accustomed to entertaining himself with his thoughts and not much more.
“Hey.” It was a soft voice that came from behind. Jon nearly jumped out of his shoes he was so engrossed in the thoughts battling through his head.
He took a deep breath, “You scared me half to death.”
She giggled, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”
Jon steadied himself. “It’s okay
. I wasn’t sure if you were going to show up. To be honest, I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t. I’m not sure we have anything to do.”
She smiled. “Talking should be enough, I’m sure.”
Jon smiled back and led her to the steps just inside his building. They took a seat and began chatting. It was painfully awkward small talk that meant nothing for the first few moments. Then they decided to go a little deeper and explain to each other how they ended up in a uniform. Jon explained that he was no more than a few days into his newly acquired position but that it felt like a lifetime. She told Jon about how she too was in the public housing project but at another location. She joined the party simply to get out. She wanted food to eat and a place to live, a humble request. Her story on why she decided to join up was no different from any of the other stories Jon had heard. Nobody liked the party but the reality was to go along, play ball and maybe get an easier ride out of it – or rebel and get killed.
They spoke for quite a while. They paid no mind to the dying light outside. The conversation was stimulating beyond anything Jon was used to these days. The only conversations he had anymore were between a pen and paper. Anything else could get you sent to prison. That is, if you said the wrong thing to the wrong person. Jon decided that their time was short, and he wasn’t going to take chances on missing an opportunity he would later regret.
“Why did you come here?” he asked her.
She looked at him with hesitation. She smiled nervously and wasn’t sure what to say.
“It’s okay,” he assured her. “I’m the one who invited you.” She kept her silence. Jon could sense that she had a doubt or fear in her mind. Jon looked at his shirt that was draped over the sleeve the dwellers placed on him. Her forgot to take it off, but it gave him an odd sense of comfort. “Nobody will know you’re here. Trust me, so what made you decide to come here?” She seemed puzzled but she spoke up.
“I came because I thought it would be nice to speak to someone like a human being for a change.”
He let one side of his lip curl into a smile. “Is that the only reason?”
She bit her lower lip and hesitated again, “No.” She forced the words into the air.
Jon had no idea what he was doing or why he was doing it. He found himself with his hand clutching her cheek. He pulled her face towards his and stared into her eyes. They both stared down at each other’s lips. They were going to kiss. Neither of them had had a real kiss before. Not like this.
Without warning the door to the building came crashing in like thunder booming on a quiet night. The door came flying open and smashed against the wall opposite. A small group of men dressed in solid black flooded into the little bottom of the stairwell. The men were screaming. The butt of a gun found its way across Jon’s face, knocking him to the ground. Sinda was swooped up like she was a child in danger. She screamed. She begged for them to stop. She reached out to Jon. Jon reached up to her. He felt the toe of a boot meet his ribcage. It was hard enough to cause him to spit up whatever was in his airway. He didn’t have a chance to think. He didn’t have a chance to move. He was placed in restraints before he could catch his breath from the kick to his chest. Two of the larger men picked him up by his arms and dragged him out into the alley. They put him up on his feet and against the building. A third soldier jammed his fist into Jon’s gut. He would have screamed out in pain and agony - if only he could breathe. He fell to the ground and they picked him back up by the arms, dragging him to the bus-like vehicle.
Jon frantically looked around for Sinda. She was not in the back of the vehicle. He couldn’t see her anywhere. He tried calling for her but all that came out was a gargled mess. He was thrown into the back of the vehicle, and the doors were slammed shut behind him. The interior was blacked out. There were no lights and no windows. The only thing Jon could see was the light breaking through the seal of the rear door he was just thrown through. The vehicle started up, and they were on the move. They drove fast like they were getting a high priority target out of danger. Jon couldn’t guess where they were going or where they were if he tried. They gave no caution to other vehicles or tight turns. Jon was thrown all over the back of the bus. Fortunately – on the bright side – there were no seats for him to be hurled into. It was just an empty, black box. That is until he went crashing into the wall of the bus. This went on until Jon felt a distinct feeling. The bus was going down a steep hill – or a ramp. Jon got a very good sense of where they were.
With almost no hesitation after stopping, the doors came flying open and cyborg-like hands were all over his legs, ripping him out of the back of the bus and back into the dragging position. He was exactly where he thought he was, the secret underground prison or interrogation chamber or whatever it was. Those big metal doors came rushing open as they dragged him down the hall. He managed to pull his head upward enough to see who was sitting at the approaching desk. It was the same woman who so “kindly” greeted him upon his first visit to this underground dungeon.
“It’s good to see you again,” Jon said it with a smile.
”And by the looks of it, it will be the last time,” she replied.
“Hey, you never know,” they were dragging Jon through the doors and towards the cells, “if you play your cards right you could win a date with me!” He shouted as they dragged him down the hall and out of sight from the woman. He didn’t get to see her reaction. It was worth it. The cyborgs threw Jon into what he was confident was the same cell he had visited before. Jon sat in that cold, metal room for a moment, alone, while he tried to catch his breath from all the excitement.
Then a man entered. He was in full uniform, the party patch and all. Except it wasn’t Greenwald. Jon read his badge. Everett. The man was a worm. He was taller than Jon but still seemed half the size. But it didn’t matter. In an odd twist of irony Jon would have felt comforted if Greenwald had walked through the door.
“Good evening, Specialist Ballard,” stated Everett with a strange accent. Jon did not reply. “That is your title, correct? You are enlisted as a Specialist, are you not?”
“Enlisted?” Jon asked with curiosity.
The man chuckled before speaking. “Well,” he let out a couple more laughs, “I mean, you are positioned as such, no?”
Jon didn’t answer the question. The man continued as his smile faded away.
“No matter, Mr. Ballard. I am Colonel Everett, elite member of the armed forces in the Capital Guard, stationed right here in Pinnacle City. You know why you’re here so I won’t waste your time. What you are guilty of tonight would have left a normal citizen at the bottom of Outland Cliffs with one, maybe two, head wounds.”
Jon had a flashback to the man and woman he saw getting dragged out of their living quarter. He now knew what happened to them.
“These laws are in place not as punishment, but to keep the delicate balance and order that we have established here in this city, in this country. Relationships spawn children, and children, if not managed correctly, spawn chaos. The only reason you’re sitting here is because of the title in front of your name and the man who gave it to you. Were you under my command, well….” Everett just shook his head.
Jon didn’t know, or care, where this was going. He wasn’t giving up. He just didn’t have a choice. “With all due respect, Colonel,” the Colonels eyes perked up to watch as Jon began to speak, “How does this end? If I’m guilty as you say, then why the chit chat? Give me my punishment, and let’s be done with this.”
Everett now shook his head in the affirmative with a bit of a smile. “I see why the General was so eager to promote you so quickly. I like a man with attitude.” He stood up, walked around the table, grabbed Jon by the hair and let his fist fly across Jon’s face. “I just don’t like it when that attitude is directed toward me.”
Jon was feeling particularly smart. “Thank you, sir” he exclaimed without raising his head. “Now lock me up, throw away the key or hang me for the city to see. After all, you ge
t to make my decisions for me anyway. Let’s cut the small talk.”
Everett let another fist fly into Jon’s gut. Jon let out every bit of air that was trapped inside with gasp of pain. The Colonel reached down, grabbed Jon’s sleeve and pulled it up, exposing the armband that was blocking any data from coming or going. One more punch across the same side of his face. Then he grabbed Jon by the neck and made it clear that he had no reservations about killing him right then and there.
“I take traitors like you, lock you up, throw away the key, torture you until I’ve grown bored of your cries for mercy and then I hang you for all to see!”
“Colonel Everett!” a man shouted from the entryway of the room. It was Greenwald. Everett straightened up immediately. “This man is on assignment from me. If he’s a traitor then I will handle him myself.”
“Yes, sir,” answered Everett as he caught his breath.
“You’re dismissed Colonel.”
Everett didn’t hesitate and showed himself to the door. As he passed by Greenwald he quietly whispered, “I hope you get this mess cleaned up before the Premiere gets here.” It wasn’t meant for Jon’s ears, but the words were just loud enough for him to hear. As soon as Everett was on the backside of Greenwald he turned to make eye contact with Jon. He gave the cutting neck motion and gave Jon a wink as Everett disappeared into the hall. Greenwald just stared at Jon for a moment before taking Everett’s seat. Then he didn’t hesitate to pick up where Everett left off.
“There are two explanations for that band on your arm. You had better give me the one I want to hear,” and then he waited for Jon to speak up.
“Uh…”
The General cut Jon off before he was done stammering, “That’s not a good start, Ballard.”
“I did as you requested, sir. I was able to infiltrate a band of dwellers just this last night. I can,” he struggled to breath, “I can tell you what I know.”
The Cowboy of Pinnacle City Page 14