JJ09 - Blood Moon (17 page)

“Ah ha,” she said.

“Ah ha?”

“Miyagi think best time to brain with bat.”

Waiting.

Officer Butler was in the office two doors down from the one I had been in with Anna just a few moments before.

He had entered some thirty seconds ago and I was waiting for him to come out, hoping no one else showed up from either end of the hall and saw me.

Anna was still hiding behind Bill’s desk. Waiting until the unpleasantness was over, which I hoped would be soon.

I heard or sensed movement behind the door, maybe even a passing shadow on the floor.

I hadn’t played baseball since junior high and wasn’t any good even back then, but I gripped the bat like a minor leaguer who had just made it to the Show, and prepared to swing for the fences.

His hand on the handle . . .

Batter, batter, batter.

The door beginning to open.

Batter, batter, batter.

Open now, him stepping out.

Batter, batter, batter, SWING batter.

My swing took too long. Seeing it coming, he had stepped back and held his hands up, his arms taking the brunt of the blow.

Hesitating a moment, but only a moment, I stepped up and shoved him into the room, bringing the bat up again.

He fell to the floor and began backing up in a kind of broken-arm crab crawl.

Not wanting to hit him in the face, I brought the bat up above me and down on the top of his head.

He tried to lift his injured arms to ward off the blow but was too late.

Trying to hit him hard enough to knock him out but not so hard as to do any lasting damage, my conflicted swing was weaker than it should have been, hard enough to stun him but not to knock him out.

He slumped down, completely still for a moment, then eventually began to reach for his radio.

Before he could depress the button on the mic clipped to his shoulder, I swung the bat, hitting him on the side of the head and this time knocking him out.

As quickly as I could, I gathered his cuffs and keys and radio and belt and gloves and lighter, turned off the light in the office, and went to get Anna.

“Are you okay?” Anna asked.

I nodded.

She was standing near the door waiting on me when I came back into Bill and Fredericka’s office.

“Sure?”

I nodded again.

“Where to?”

“Whatta you think?” I asked.

“Somewhere close. Somewhere to hide. Somewhere with power.”

“Wonder if they cut the power to this entire building or just this side?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she said. “This key won’t get us into Medical.”

“So wherever we go to get power, we’ll have to break in. Not something I’m sure we can do, or
if
we can do, do quietly enough to avoid detection.”

“Should we just hide here? How long do you think we’d have to make it?”

“I think there’s a possibility Rachel Peterson is on her way,” I said. “If so, and if she can actually get in, and they can’t convince her we’re not here or distract her with other things, I’d say about an hour and a half. If we have to wait for the first employees to arrive . . . Shift change is not until seven, but . . . someone who works in Food Services comes in early to supervise breakfast, right? If Rachel doesn’t come tonight or doesn’t even know to look for us, I’d say between three and four hours.”

“That’s a very long time to survive in here like this,” she said.

“Not for two badasses like us,” I said.

She smiled, but tears appeared in her eyes. “I notice there’s no blood on your bat, badass,” she said. “You tried not to hurt him, just knock him out, didn’t you?”

“It’s possible I’m not completely clear on the definition.”

We fell silent a moment and I thought about our options.

Psychology was just one hallway on this side of the building, which meant the electricity was most likely off in it too. Medical was on the other side of this same building, Laundry on the other side of it. Both would have to be broken into––something I didn’t think we had the tools to do. And even if we did, we’d most likely be spotted before we could get in.

Food Services was directly across the asphalt road from where we were now. Moving toward it would make us visible to Tower II and exposed to everyone for a longer period of time, and it too would have to be broken into. But it was larger with more places to hide––even on the exterior of the building, the back of which held a loading dock, a cinderblock wall cleaning area, and a fenced-in trash pile, and was littered with empty trays and racks and other random items.

If I could break the lock on the gate to the trash pile, I could hide Anna inside. If I could break into Laundry, I could hide her beneath the clothes in one of the many large canvas laundry carts. If I had wings and could fly, I could soar us out of here to safety.

“Anything?” Randy Wayne asked.

His voice coming through the radio sounded like he was in the room.

“Let’s go,” I said to Anna.

I double-checked the hallway in both directions, then opened the door and led her out.

As we walked down the hallway toward the back door, I pulled my shirt up in front of my mouth, depressed the button on the mic, and spoke into it, hoping the muffling from the shirt and the echoing of the hallway would help disguise my deception.

“Nothin’ so far,” I said softly with slightly more of a Southern accent than I normally had. “’Bout halfway through.”

“Let me know. And speed it up a bit, man. Clock’s tickin’.”

“Will do.”

As we neared the back door, I could hear a key being inserted into it from the other side.

“Here,” I whispered.

I turned to the door on my right, unlocked it, and led her inside.

I was fairly certain they had the back door open and were in the hallway with more than enough time to see or hear what we had just done. I stepped to the side of the door, moved Anna behind me, and readied the bat.

And waited.

“BUTLER,” Pine yelled. “WHERE YOU AT?”

From the side of the narrow pane of glass, I watched as Pine Tree lumbered up the hallway alone.

I thought about our options.

Try to sneak out when he gets far enough away. Of course, he’d probably hear us––if not coming out of this door then trying to unlock and open the other.

Attack him with the bat. Of course, he’d probably just take it away from me, pick his teeth with it, then squash me.

We could stay put. Hide here while he discovers the body, confirms we’re here, and radios for help. Of course, they’d find us in no time and there would be more of them to deal with––including Cantor and his sword.

“We’ve got to sneak out,” I said. “Best chance is when he goes into the office where Butler is.”

“Okay.”

“Here,” I said, handing her the key. “You unlock the outer door. I’m sure you can do it more quietly than I can. I’ll be watching the hallway to see if he hears us.”

I watched as Pine neared the office that held Butler.

As he continued down the hallway, looking into each office, he periodically called out for Butler but he only looked over his shoulder once.

“Here we go,” I said as he neared the fateful office. “Quickly and quietly.”

When he reached the door, looked in, and saw Butler, he pulled out his keys and rushed inside.

“Now,” I said.

As we stepped back out into the black night, Pine’s voice came through Butler’s radio.

“They’re here,” Pine said, voice pitched high, words coming fast. “Classification. Butler’s down.”

“Scotty, get over there,” Randy Wayne said. “Now. Whatta you mean, down? How bad is he?”

“He ain’t conscious.”

“Leave him for now. Search the building. Find them.”

“They got his radio.”

“Motherfuck Almighty,” Randy Wayne said. “An unarmed preacher and a bitch about to have a baby.”

“We prefer
badasses
,” Anna whispered.

I laughed.

We were running back the same way we had come earlier, behind Medical, toward Laundry.

“I’m being literal here,” Randy Wayne was saying. “An actual human being baby could drop out of her shit-don’t-stink better-than-thou pristine pussy any second now. How haven’t you taken care of them yet?”

“Did you know any of that about me?” Anna asked.

“Sure, but only because we’ve been intimate. How does he know?”

“Think he hates all women or just me?”

We reached the end of Medical and paused for a moment. I looked around. We’d be more exposed as we crossed between Medical and Laundry.

“Okay,” I said. “Just to the back edge of Laundry. Ready?”

“Say the word and I’ll move my pristine little pussy just as fast as I can.”

“On three,” I said. “Three.”

We took off.

Stepping onto the asphalt pad, I cringed for Anna’s feet, the long, shapely, tender feet I found so sexy. I had to find something for her to wear. My shoes were too big and would come off as soon as she tried to run. Maybe I could find a pair of inmate sneakers in Laundry that would fit her.

Just as we reached the back corner of the laundry building, I saw Scotty Branson, the officer Randy Wayne had told to get to Classification, round the corner where we had just been standing a few moments before.

He paused for a moment, just as we had, and turned and looked over his shoulder toward us.

We stood perfectly still in the darkness, our backs pressed up against the cinderblock wall.

The night was still deathly quiet, the blood moon still a deep, dark red. Everything was still shrouded in fog and a burgundy-tinged blackness.

He appeared to be looking directly at us.

Could he see us? Did he know we were here?

Eventually, he looked away, scanning other directions, then continuing to the back door of Classification and going in.

I turned the radio back up slightly and held it to my ear.

“. . . called futility, John,” Randy Wayne was saying. “Understand? All you’re doin’ is delaying the inevitable. You have nowhere to go. No chance of escape. No way to call for help. No weapons. No hope. You don’t even have the radio. In just a second, we’re goin’ to switch to another channel, then from there alternate between channels at intervals you couldn’t possibly guess even if you were fuckin’ Rain Man. So why don’t y’all make it easy on all of us and turn yourself in? We can work something out. Nobody has to get hurt from all this. Just for once in your life be a team player. Whatta you say?”

I said nothing, just continued scanning the area around us as I listened.

“Come on,” he said. “Before Cantor cuts somebody. ’Cause I’m tellin’ you, he goes to work on somebody with that big blade of his and parts are gonna fall out that we can’t put back in. Vital parts. Know what I mean? That ain’t the kind of cesarean you want Anna havin’. Trust me. Or maybe you do. I hear it’s not your baby. But, John, buddy, Cantor won’t just take the baby. Come on, you know that. He’ll rip her too. Rip her good. You gonna put her through that?”

Anna squeezed my hand.

“You ever looked at his jacket?” he said. “Ever read in detail what he’s in here for? He won Best with a Blade at the American Sociopathic Association’s award show something like five years running.”

He cracked himself up with that one and took a moment to enjoy it, laughing and appreciating himself––leaving the microphone on as he did.

“You remember a year or so back, that inmate who got filleted in F Dorm? Ears cut off and shoved down his throat. Smiley face carved into his belly, his viscera hanging out of its mouth. There was more, but you get the . . . You remember that, right? ’Course you do. Nobody forgets shit like that. Cantor’s work. Yeah, boy knows his way around a blade and a body. That’s for sure. Thing is, John, I’m gonna make you watch him do that to Anna if you don’t stop all this and turn yourself in right now.”

I didn’t respond.

“Last chance. Offer is going . . . going . . . gone. Okay boys, he chose the hard way. Just like we were hoping he would. Let’s make it extra hard, though, ’specially for the stuck up bitch. Switch to our alternate channel and begin switching around in the intervals we discussed in three . . . two . . .”

The radio went silent.

“You okay?” I whispered to Anna.

She nodded.

“It’s just bravado,” I lied. “Just threats. Just trying to scare us.”

“Well, it worked.”

“Sorry,” I said.

I pulled her to me and held her, continuing to look around us as I did.

“I’m so sorry about all this,” I said. “I’m gonna take care of you, get you out of this. You’re going to be fine.”

“Where to? What next?”

“Was thinking we might double back to the chapel since they’ve already checked it. Maybe they won’t come back to it for a while. We have the keys and can get into any part of it, and I think there’s an outlet in the kitchen that works when the emergency lights kick on.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

“Sorry about your feet. We’ll figure something out for them when we get there.”

“They’re the least of my worries now. The very least.”

I slowly slid the key into the lock and turned the handle on the exterior door that led into the fellowship hall and kitchen. It was in the very back corner of the chapel, directly behind the sanctuary, separated by a removable room divider that folded into each of the side walls.

We entered the empty room, my dew-wet shoes squeaking on the tile floor, and moved toward the kitchen on the far side.

The room was dark, but I could see that the divider was closed and all the chairs and tables were stacked against the walls. We had a clear straight walk to the small back hallway that led to the kitchen.

“You okay back there?” I whispered.

“I am. And I love you.”

“I love you.”

I opened the back hallway door, which was dimly illuminated by the emergency lamp on the wall near the ceiling––only one side of which was working. It was a small, narrow L-shaped hallway off of which were the inmate and volunteer bathrooms and the kitchen. The kitchen was to our right. It and the volunteer bathroom were the only doors that locked back here.