Part 4 (1/2)

”Don't you wish you could have had a hot bath and stayed in bed?” Pinckney said behind me, calmer now, less burdened. He was the type of tall man whose striking height is apparent only when he's standing next to you.

I ignored the innuendo that came with his emphasis on the word ”bed.” ”Overtime suits me fine.” With a reasonable number of emergencies to attend to, my salary promised to jump from fifty-two to sixty-five plus a year. That was all right by me.

We both caught sight of the fight that had erupted in D-one of the men inexplicably dragged out of his ground-level cell by two others, dropped into a huddled heap on the open floor, and subjected to a drawn-out performance of stomping and kicking in full view of the camera. Like fake wrestling, except these guys thought fake wrestling was real.

”Looks like Felix Rose,” I said. Rose was gang affiliated though none too special, making it likely we were watching a little fringe-level payback.

”What I wouldn't give for some tear gas and high-powered rifles,” Pinckney said.

”Just give me a fire hose,” I added, sharing his frustration. The COs couldn't do a thing while the range was out of control. Rules were absurdly strict in handling crisis situations. You needed to negotiate for calm, practically beg the men to stop. You even had to keep providing their meals. Forgoing brute force or hunger as a deterrent, you were left only with boredom-eventually, having nothing better to do, the inmates allowed you to resume control of the situation. For the COs it was humiliating because it clarified the degree to which the inmates were truly running the asylum. Pinckney told me to have fun.

In the lockers behind Keeper's office, I got my gear on, a chest protector and fireman-type gloves, a helmet with a visor like some outer-s.p.a.ce welder's, a spool of extra zips, a spare f.u.c.kstick, but no guns, no Tasers, no s.h.i.+eld, nothing fun. All dress-up and no party.

In a full-scale riot I would have been on the front lines from the get-go, but this business was contained to one range, and there were plenty of URF COs on hand, so Keeper Pollack asked me to do normal rounds and check on the calm ranges. This was thankless s.h.i.+t. The inmates were on full lockdown, probably glad to be out of harm's way, though acting feistier than normal, especially when I was in the vicinity. I withstood more than the usual laughs and calls of abuse.

By midnight it was my turn to join the activity on D block and pretend to be in control of the situation behind the gates. An a.s.sistant warden stood halfway down the tunnel, talking on his cell phone. Of course, no one reminded him that he couldn't have a cell phone inside. Three administrative cronies hovered near him. I didn't glance at them as I pa.s.sed. Six COs huddled at the front line, including Keeper Wallace, the officer in charge. He looked plumper than normal in his vest, his eyes dark with the usual exhaustion. My arrival got Keon, another URF CO, a free pa.s.s to the lockers. He looked at me gratefully. ”Hope n.o.body's sleeping on my bench.”

Wallace asked me how things were in the other blocks. I had nothing outlandish to report. Everything was restless but under control.

Ray MacKay was there, too. He lifted his visor and grinned at me like a kid out for Halloween. We backed off the cellblock entry so he could brief me, meaning fill me in on all the f.u.c.kups and hilarious s.h.i.+t encountered thus far.

”D-one refused to comply when we ordered all ranges into lockdown. Or Hadley and Vargas refused, and the rest of their tier mates followed suit. Couple hours back, Hadley took a nap right in the middle of the floor and asked for a bedtime lullaby. Said it felt like he was camping outside and looking up at the stars.”

From the range, Hadley yelled out, ”Yo, Lieutenant Wallace, you got yourself an improved situation there. I wholeheartedly appreciate you bringing in cheerleader Williams.”

Even in a helmet and body armor.

A few laughs from other inmates. ”Send her in for negotiation. Promise we won't bite.”

”Much!”

I'd once caught Hadley with Vargas's d.i.c.k in his mouth. I wanted to remind him of that fact right now, but not in front of Wallace.

”How did those two ever end up on the same tier?” I asked. ”Didn't they transfer in here together?” I spoke quietly. I did not want the a.s.sistant warden or any of his people to hear my complaining.

”For the same c.r.a.p as this,” MacKay said without any discretion. ”We're just full of forgiveness.”

Wallace shook his head. ”They'll get tired eventually.” He raised his voice. ”You just let us know when we can get treatment for those men in there, Hadley. Every minute that goes by is making it worse for you.”

”f.u.c.k you, you fat f.u.c.king pig!” Vargas yelled out.

”That's a write-up, Vargas,” Wallace said. ”I'm taking note of everything.”

Vargas and Hadley laughed like orangutans inside a cage at the idea of being written up for bad language.

”Don't think I won't,” Wallace said, as much to himself as anyone else.

An hour and a half later, at two-twelve in the a.m., Hadley agreed to let Felix Rose be taken to the hospital. ”I am tired of this sorry motherf.u.c.ker whining and crying all the G.o.dd.a.m.n time,” Hadley said. ”You think it's so tough losing your precious kidney? That ain't the worst way you can p.i.s.s blood, you hair-icle c.o.c.ksucker.”

I looked to MacKay. ”What does hair-icle mean?”

”Don't ask me,” MacKay said. ”I thought Felix Rose was bald.”

I tried not to laugh.

”He's saying heretical,” Wallace explained, impatient with our joking. ”He keeps calling him heretical.”

”Jesus Christ,” MacKay muttered. ”Religious intolerance is at the root of all conflict these days, isn't it.”

”You two quiet down and get ready,” Wallace said.

Wallace informed the a.s.sistant warden and was told to proceed. He opened the gate and let me and MacKay go through. I was surprised that Wallace would ask me to step into a crisis situation, given his reluctance to have me on URF at all, but I was sure as h.e.l.l not going to turn down the opportunity. I kept my riot mask up. I wanted full eye contact with everyone. I wanted Hadley, Vargas, and every other s.h.i.+tbag to know I was not afraid to be walking among them. There were syringes and homemade knives on the floor, tossed out from every cell in preparation for the inevitable shakedown after the reign of glory had pa.s.sed. Hadley kept his distance, but he held a metal pipe in his hand with a duct-taped handle. A few of the inmates hooted and whooped to have two COs in their grasp, but n.o.body made a move forward. They're as worn-out as we are, I thought. When it came down to it, all inmates craved routine. It was their comfort blanket and their teddy bear. Mini-riots launched by s.a.d.i.s.tic a.s.sholes like Shawn Hadley were disruptions to the natural flow.

The range smelled sour and grim. Unwashed bodies. An acrid odor that reminded me of cat p.i.s.s. I wondered if Felix Rose really was having kidney failure. He lay in his cell on the floor. He'd pulled a sheet off the cot to cover himself. The sheet was wet and sticking to his body. He wasn't moving. ”Felix?” I called. He still didn't move. I stepped in closer and pulled back the sheet, fearing the worst. His face was drained white and drizzled with sweat. There were serious contusions on his forehead, purple mounds that stuck out like erupting volcanoes. Between and beneath the bruisings I saw something that startled me, a triangle deliberately burned into his skin like a brand, all welted and seeping. His eyes opened, a frightened rabbit staring. He started breathing rapidly, like a woman in labor, and muttered a few ”please G.o.ds.”

”We're going to need a stretcher,” I told MacKay. Felix groaned at my touch. ”I'll stay with him.”

MacKay backed out of the small s.p.a.ce. I kept my fingers on Rose's neck, checking the weak pulse. ”We'll get you out of here, Felix,” I said. Back in the world, Felix was a drug-addicted break-and-enter lowlife who'd started a house fire to destroy the body of an old woman he'd clubbed to death. In here, he was just another sorry sack of s.h.i.+t. Despite it all, you care about the human life. Time on my hands, I looked up and around. Besides the usual amenities I noticed a postcard-size drawing taped to the single shelf above Rose's desk. The same pumpkin face, the same stack of pyramids.

Were they everywhere? I remembered that Rose was a friend of Crowley's. Did that put them together in some common cause? I thought of the Beggar walking across the desert toward the towered city, the many minions there who knew him.

”What a sweetheart you are,” Hadley said behind me.

I whirled around, almost kneeing Rose in my haste.

”Couldn't have asked for a better Christmas present.”

I was used to being in intimate contact with thugs and f.u.c.kheads, but I had never been trapped inside an enclosed s.p.a.ce by one before. Hadley blocked the door, the pipe in his hand, his s.h.i.+rt wide-open, his free hand dipped into the top of his sweatpants. Of course I imagined the worst. The last time a female staff member had been raped-a nurse in the howler ward-the URF team, unwilling to break in and risk the nurse's life without negotiating a stand-down first, sat outside the door and listened for hours while the son of a b.i.t.c.h sodomized her. There was no way I would ever let that happen to me. I had my f.u.c.kstick at my belt and figured I could get it before he came down with the pipe, but then it would be hand-to-hand combat, and I had no illusions about any certainty of outcome there.

”You ready for a s.h.i.+t kicking, Hadley?” I asked.

He stared at me, the same stupid smile weakened ever so slightly.

”Go ahead, Ray, f.u.c.k him up,” I said.

Hadley bit and looked around for Ray. I whipped out and down with the f.u.c.kstick as hard as I could, snapping the outside of his knee. He dropped like he'd been shot, rolled onto his side curling both hands over his kneecap, and called me every name I'd ever heard.

My breath heavy, I watched him for sudden movement, any sign that he was just waiting for me to step closer.

”You okay in there?” Wallace called out.

I didn't answer, and I couldn't will myself to walk past Hadley.

MacKay appeared, the stretcher under his arm.

”What the f.u.c.k?” he said.