“Stop him!” Jake shouted as his face contorted with rage.
Burnside instinctively reached out and grabbed the black inmate by the shoulders, stopping him in his tracks. A feral grin spread across Jake’s ugly face as he drew his shank and moved toward the inmate’s back. Burnside only had a split second to make a decision. He shoved the inmate aside and lunged toward the Skin. Jake’s eyes widened with surprise as Burnside grabbed the wrist holding the shank while he drew his other arm back over his shoulder. He pummeled his right fist into Jake’s forehead several times until Jake’s legs gave out beneath him like a marionette abandoned by its puppeteer. Ray released the Skin’s wrist as the shank fell from his limp hand. Ray pulled off his ski mask and reached down for the shank on the floor. Jake hit the floor, but recovered quickly. He struggled to get to his feet as Ray picked up the shank.
“You fucking nigger lover!” Jake shouted as he got to his knees. “I should have known you were-” A sickening gurgling sound followed as the Skin tried to form his next word. A blood bubble formed in his open mouth as Ray plunged the shank deeper into his throat. Blood spurted from the wound like a geyser, soaking the front of Burnside’s orange jumpsuit. Jake’s eyes bulged from his head and the blood bubble burst in his mouth as he tried to speak, clutching futilely at the homemade weapon protruding from his impaled jugular. Ray watched his eyes roll up in his head as he keeled over. A widening crimson pool flowed across the concrete like a miniature flash flood.
Ray turned toward the shackled inmate, Jones, and saw him staring at the fallen body of the Skin with wide eyes.
“What was that all about?” Jones asked.
Ray took several deep breaths and wiped the sweat from his forehead before he replied. “That was supposed to be a hit on you. Obviously it didn’t turn out that way.”
“Obviously,” the black inmate said, grinning. “Are you my guardian angel or something?”
“Or something,” Burnside said, grinning back.
Ray turned to look behind him when he heard a painful groan. For a split second, he thought it was coming from the corpse until he realized it was one of the fallen guards. The guard Burnside pummeled was still out cold, but the other guard that Jake had smashed into a pipe was writhing on the floor, as the disseminating blood puddle soaked his bare arm. Ray was about to kick him in the head when he recognized him from the description that the Warden’s messenger gave him at the isolation cell before. Burnside splashed through the blood puddle and lifted the fallen guard, Reynolds, to his feet. The guard was a tall, thin man with a mustache, just like the guard had described him. Ray held the officer upright and glanced over his shoulder to make sure the other officer was still down. He was.
“Damn, look at all that blood,” the dazed guard said, wiping his soaked arm on his black pants. “You certainly don’t fuck around, Burnside.”
“I may not fuck around, but I’m certainly fucked now,” Ray said. “This little stunt has just cost me everything.”
“Not necessarily,” the guard said, regaining his composure. “Not if we follow the Warden’s plan.”
“The Warden’s plan? How the fuck does he think he’s going to get me out of this mess?” Burnside asked.
“If you do exactly what I say, you’ll find out right now,” Reynolds said, glaring at Ray intensely.
“Okay, then shoot,” Ray said.
“Hold on,” the guard said, turning toward the shackled prisoner. “How are you holding up? You all right?”
“Sure, I’m fine,” Jones said. “I’m just a little confused.”
“No, you’re not confused. You’re dead. You were killed in this attack,” Reynolds said, glaring at him.
Jones contemplated the statement for a moment before replying, “Now I think I see your game. How do you intend to accomplish my death while I’m still breathing?”
“Simple,” the guard said, turning to Ray. “First, we have to move that corpse to a secure location. Give me a hand.”
“Wait a second,” Burnside said. “I don’t even know who the fuck you are.”
“Dave Reynolds,” the guard said, grinning and extending his blood-soaked hand. “I’m with the Warden’s faction.”
“Nice to meet you,” Burnside said, shaking the guard’s bloody hand without a second thought. His jumpsuit was already soaked with blood, so he didn’t see how any more would make a difference.
The guard reached down and grabbed one of the dead Skin’s flaccid arms. Burnside realized what he was up to and grabbed the other. They dragged the body across the gray floor, leaving a trail of blood in its wake.
“What about me?” Jones asked.
“Make sure he doesn’t wake up,” Reynolds said, pointing to the guard who was still lying unconscious on the floor. “If he stirs, do what you have to do. Kick him in the head or whatever. Just make sure he doesn’t get up before we move this body.”
“I think I can handle that,” Jones said, smiling widely.
Burnside and Reynolds dragged the corpse down the hall and jammed it unceremoniously into a mostly-empty housekeeping closet. When the body had been safely deposited, Reynolds grabbed a mop from the same closet and began mopping up the blood trail left behind by the corpse. He mopped all the way up to the large blood puddle near Jones and stopped.
“This has to remain to look convincing,” the guard said, pointing at the puddle. He noticed a quizzical expression on Burnside’s face and added, “The other guard has to think Jones is the one who got whacked. That way he can spread around the good news to his Skin buddies. He’s one of their screws.”
Now Burnside saw the complete picture. They were going to fake the gang leader’s death. There was still one very big problem with the plan.
“What about him?” Burnside asked, pointing to the gang leader. “If we take him back to the infirmary, word is sure to get around that he’s still alive.”
“We’re not taking him back to the infirmary. We’re bringing him through the maintenance corridors to a service elevator that will take him to the executive floor. From there, we’ll clandestinely bring him to the Warden’s office, where he can lay low for awhile.”
“That’s great, but he can’t stay there forever,” Burnside said.
“Not forever. But a week shouldn’t be a problem. By that time we should have all the problems with the Skins sorted out.”
“That’s hard for me to believe, but I guess I don’t have any alternative,” Ray said, rolling his eyes and sighing.
He glanced down when he heard a groan emanate from the guard lying prone on the floor.
“You said this guy is with the Skins?” Burnside asked, looking down at the guard.
“Oh yeah, he’s as dirty as hell,” Reynolds said.
“Then I won’t feel bad about doing this,” Burnside said, kicking the fallen guard in the face so hard that his head rebounded from a nearby pipe. The groaning ceased.
Chapter 23
Harsh Necessity
“Remind me not to piss you off,” Reynolds said as the guard’s head rebounded from the pipe.
Burnside glared down at the fallen officer.
“I just realized something,” he said. “How am I going to explain the fact that Jake is dead to the Skins?”
“Just say that I killed him,” Reynolds said. “That guard, Connors, won’t be able to contradict the story.” He pointed down at the prone officer. “I saw you take him out before Jake slammed my head into a pipe. Connors didn’t see what happened. For all he knows, I smashed Jake’s head into a pipe.”
“But that would mean I wasn’t doing my job,” Burnside said. “I should have helped Jake take you down. The Skins will kill me for not protecting their lieutenant.”
“That’s just a risk we have to take,” Reynolds said. “Listen, we have to wrap this up. Jones, I need you to-”
“Hold up for a second,” Burnside interrupted. “What do you mean by risk WE have to take? I’m the only one taking the risk. The only story
that is going to ring true to the Skins is that there were extra guards on Jones’ detail and they were ready for us because someone snitched.”
“How’s that going to work?” Reynolds asked. “Our boy, Connor, there will contradict that story.”
Burnside glared down at the unconscious guard with fury glinting in his eyes.
Then, that’s what it comes down to. It’s him or me.
“Then he has to go,” Burnside said, pointing to the guard.
“What are you talking about?” Reynolds said, raising his voice. “He’s one of us. We can’t just kill him!”
“You said he was with the Skins,” Burnside said, calmly.
“Well, sure, he’s corrupt, but you can’t kill him for that,” Reynolds said. “Look we don’t have time to argue.”
“That fucker is responsible for the deaths of two of my men,” Jones said, pointing down at Connors.
“Now wait a second, Jones, you don’t have any proof of that,” Reynolds argued.
“I have two dead men as proof. They were killed while supposedly being guarded by that scum-bag.”
“That decides it,” Burnside said, pushing past Reynolds and stalking down the corridor to the supplies closet.
He opened it up and stared down at Jake’s corpse. Grimacing with disgust, Ray reached down and pulled the shank from his throat. The shank slid out with an abhorrent sucking sound. He held the bloody tool in front of him.
Is this a dagger I see before me? The handle toward my hand? Shakespeare aside, this is the only way.
Burnside turned and stalked back to the body of the unconscious corrections officer.
“I can’t let you do this,” Reynolds said, standing in front of Ray.
“You stupid fuck! Don’t you realize that it’s him or me!” Burnside shouted at Reynolds as froth flew from his lips like a madman.
A piece of flying spit struck Reynolds in the forehead and he wiped it off, scowling distastefully at his palm. Since being raped in the shower, Burnside’s survival instinct had kicked into permanent high-gear. He firmly believed that it was either him or the guard who must die. That meant it was the guard’s turn because Ray wasn’t giving up after the hell he had gone through in prison so far.
“Killing him isn’t part of the Warden’s plan,” Reynolds said, shoving Burnside backwards.
Burnside reacted by lashing out with a hard left to Reynolds’ face. The stunned officer took a step back into the blood puddle and slipped. He crashed to the floor beside the unconscious guard. Jones looked on with wide eyes as Burnside set his jaw and reached down for Connor’s head. He grabbed the guard by the hair and pulled his head back, exposing his neck.
“Man, you are one crazy mother-fucker,” Jones said as his eyes widened.
“Not until I got sent to this hellhole,” Burnside said, glaring at Jones while he plunged the shank into the guard’s neck.
Blood spurted from the puncture wound, spraying Reynolds’ face. A sickening gurgling sound followed.
“What the fuck!” Reynolds shouted from the floor, squinting his eyes and trying to hold back the deluge of blood with a raised hand.
Burnside ignored Reynolds and stood above the corpse, glaring down at it.
I can’t believe I did it. I’ve been in plenty of fights before, but I never killed anyone before. I always hoped it would never come to this.
“My man,” Jones said. “You are a certifiable bad-ass.”
“It wasn’t rocket science,” Burnside said, feeling a sudden strong tug of guilt. “It was him or me. It was a harsh necessity.”
Ray felt a spasm of pain in his gut.
Damn, this isn’t going to be as easy to rationalize as I thought.
“Well, I can tell you one thing,” Jones said. “You just saved my gang a lot of trouble by taking him out.”
Reynolds struggled to get to his feet and Burnside pushed him back down into the expanding blood pool.
“What the hell!” Reynolds shouted as his face plunged into the thick red liquid.
“Now it’s time for you and me to have a little chat,” Burnside said, turning toward Jones.
“Oh fuck, what did I do?” Jones asked, widening his eyes and lifting his hands in a “surrender” gesture.
“Nothing like that,” Burnside said, grinning. “I just need your help taking out the rest of the Skins.”
“That’s something I wouldn’t mind seeing,” Jones said. “Like I always say, the enemy of my enemy is my friend.”
“The next time I go to the yard, I’m going to meet with the Skins’ boss,” Burnside said. “If he doesn’t kill me right away, I’ll give him the bullshit story about the extra guards being here when we tried to make the hit on you. I’ll tell him someone must have snitched. An argument will ensue. When I see an opening, I’m going to shank him in the gut.”
“What do you need me to do?” Jones asked.
“You and your gang will be close by in the yard. Keep an eye on what’s happening and when you see me make my move, make yours.”
“We can do that,” Jones said as his eyes gleamed with excitement.
“After I take out the Skin’s leader, I’ll move on to the rest. I’ll improvise with whatever is at hand. It’s a weightlifting area, so I should be able to find items to use as weapons. While I’m doing my part, you and your guys take out the Skins on the periphery and work your way inward. We’ll meet in the middle.”
“That has to be the most insane plan ever,” Jones said. “Count me in.”
Burnside glanced down at Reynolds as he groaned painfully.
“Burnside, you son-of-a-bitch, I’m going to kill you,” Reynolds said between groans.
“Oh, what the hell,” Burnside said, reaching down and grabbing Reynolds by the shoulders. He pulled him roughly to his feet. Reynolds swayed unsteadily for a moment and had to place his hand on Burnside’s shoulder for balance.
“Burnside, you fucking maniac. You just sent me to the unemployment line. How am I going to explain this to the Warden?” he asked, clutching his jaw where Burnside struck him.
“We just have to get our stories straight,” Burnside said. “If we do that, we can all get out of this intact.”
“Okay, genius, what’s your story?” Reynolds asked, steadying himself by leaning against a pipe in the wall.
“We tell the story as it happened with one exception,” Burnside said, eyes glinting. “We’ll say Connors tried to interfere when I tried to stop Jake from stabbing Jones. We can tell the Warden that I stepped in to stop Jake from killing Jones – as per the plan. But when I disarmed Jake, we’ll say Connors grabbed me from behind. Jake was about to pummel me, so I instinctively reached back and put the shank through Connor’s throat to free myself. When I was free, I wrestled with Jake and put the shank through his throat.”
Reynolds stood rubbing his jaw, contemplating. “That could work. If Connors was placing your life in danger by holding you back and allowing Jake to kill you and then kill Jones, then it was self-defense.”
“That’s right,” Burnside said. “Self defense. Exactly.”
“That works for me,” Jones said.
Reynolds gave Jones a disdainful glance and Jones said, “Hey, if it wasn’t for this guy,” he said, nodding at Burnside. “I wouldn’t be standing here talking. I’d be dead. Those Skins had it out for me.”
“That’s a mild understatement,” Burnside said.
“So we got the story straight,” Reynolds said. “Now we really need to break up this little party and go our separate ways. Burnside, you need to backtrack the way you came to the end of the maintenance corridor. The corrupt guards who brought you here are waiting for you. I know those guys, Rick Martin and Jim Cashman. They’ve been working for the Skins for years. They’re going to suspect that something went wrong because of all the extra time that has gone by. You need to confirm their suspicions by telling them the story about extra guards being assigned to the target who were ready for the ambush because s
omeone snitched. Tell them you were able to kill the target, Jones, but one of the guards smashed Jake’s head in with his baton before you could stop him.”
“That’s perfect,” Ray said.
“Now get the fuck out of here,” Reynolds said. “I’ll take Jones to the Warden’s office via the service elevator.”
“Good enough. Let’s hope this works. If it doesn’t, at least my worries will be over,” Burnside said, turning and jogging down the corridor while Reynolds and Jones moved in the opposite direction.
Chapter 24
Charade
Burnside reached the end of the maintenance corridor and found the two guards who escorted him there pacing nervously.
“Where the fuck have you been! Where’s Jake?” the older, balding guard, Rick, shouted at Ray.
“Someone snitched,” Burnside said, scowling. “They were ready for us. You must have a mole in your organization.”
“Where the fuck is Jake!” Rick repeated, shouting in Burnside’s face and grabbing him by the shoulders.”
Ray brushed off the guard’s arms and took a step back. “Where do you think he is? He’s in the infirmary, moron! His head was caved in with a baton. I told you - they knew we were coming!”
“This is fucking unbelievable,” the younger guard, a muscular twenty-five-year-old with a shaved head, Jim, said, pacing frantically.
“It’s more than unbelievable,” the older guard said, resuming his pacing. “Price is going to blame us.”
“Look, I’ll just have to tell him what happened,” Burnside said. “If the fuckers were waiting to ambush us, then there wasn’t anything I could do about it, right?”
“Assuming you’re telling the truth. How do I know you didn’t kill Jake?” Rick asked, eyes narrowing.
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