Breakout (Final Dawn) (23 page)

     In a prison setting, there are two codes to live by. One is the prison code. Convicts more or less follow the rules of the prison because they have no choice. Privileges are few enough as it is. Failure to follow the rules results in even them being taken away.

     But t
here’s a second code that must also be followed. The convict’s code. It’s a set of unwritten laws that must be obeyed. And when they’re not, retribution is often more swift and more severe than anything the hacks can dish out.

     Rule number one in the convict code is that only the strong survive. And only the strongest thrive.

    Alvarez thrived in such an environment because he never showed mercy. No one knew he had a softer side. They feared him. And they respected him. In prison, the two were closely intertwined.

     He ensured the lo
okouts were relieved at midnight and went back to Hannah and Mark’s apartment to grab some sleep. He put the video on repeat and watched it as he lay on Hannah’s pillow, smelling the sweet scent of her shampoo lingering on the pillow case.

     And he realized he’d made a huge mistake.

     He had shown his soldiers that he had a tender side. And that just wouldn’t do.

     He couldn’t take back what he’d done, telling the men about his boyhood pet and the fun time
s they’d had together. But he’d make damn sure it never happened again.

     Tonight he’d sleep. Tomorrow he’d make a point to be more brutal than ever before.

Chapter
45

     Mark went to bed that night in the dog house, and woke up the same way. Hannah was especially cold to him, and it didn’t get past little Markie.

     “Daddy, did you make Mommy mad again?”

     “Yes, I’m afraid so, little sailor.”

     “Don’t worry. She won’t
be mad long. She loves you. Even when she’s mad.”

     “I know. But thanks for reminding me. You’re pretty smart for a six year old. You know that?”

     “Yep. I know.”

     Hannah walked over to see if Markie was dressed for school.

     “Markie says you shouldn’t be mad at me, ‘cause you love me.”

     “I can love you and be mad at you at the same time. I am very good at multi-tasking.”

     “Yeah, well I can stand on my head and juggle chainsaws at the same time too. Just because you can do two things at once doesn’t always mean it’s a good idea.”

     “I’ll tell you what. You show me how you can juggle chainsaws and I’ll stop being mad at you. But they have to be on and I get to sharpen the blades first.”

     “Ouch. Harsh.”

     “Baby, you let me down. I asked you to do something important and you didn’t. You have to allow me my time to be mad. You know I’ll get over it, but I have to go through the process first. And you can’t deny me of it.”

     “I suppose I don’t get kisses until you’re finished being mad?”

     “No. While I’m mad, Markie gets all my kisses.”

     Markie giggled.

     “And I suppose I shouldn’t even ask about all that other stuff?”

     “Not unless you want to make me madder.”

     Mark looked at his son and asked, “What do you think, Markie? Should I make her any madder?”

     “That’s probably not a good idea, Dad.”

     “Well, can I at least go to breakfast with you guys?”

     Now Hannah consulted Markie.

     “Should we let him eat breakfast with us, little sailor?”

     “Of course. He’s my
dad.
Duh…”

     Hannah gave Mark her best stern look.

     “Okay. But you have to walk two steps behind us on the way over there.”

     The three walked to the mine’s dining room to find the kitchen closed down and six cases of MREs on one of the tables. They’d left a limited amount of supplies behind when they vacated the mine. Luckily, one of them was coffee. It wasn’t as fresh as anyone liked it, but no one complained. Slightly stale coffee was better than no coffee at all.

     The mood was somber on this particular morning. Those who hadn’t realized the day before how close they’d all come to being killed had had a chance to think about it during the night.

     And they all realized how really lucky they all were.

     Even Sami, the only gunshot casualty, realized that if the shot had been a few inches to her left, she wouldn’t have survived.

     The chilling dose of
reality that had finally set in during the previous few hours, and the fact that everyone was stiff and sore from the previous day’s physical labor left most of the group in surly moods.

     But not everyone.

     Bryan came into the dining room on crutches and hobbled over to the table where the three were having their breakfast.

     “Good morning. What kind of delicacies are you three enjoying this fine morning?”

     Hannah said, “Chicken a’la King. You want some? Seriously. The more you eat, the less I have to.”

     Mark said, “I’m not sure what this is, but I think it was food in a previous life.”

     Bryan looked at Markie.

     “I have scrambled eggs, Uncle Bryan. Do you want a taste?”

     “No thanks, little guy. Actually, I’m not hungry. I just came by to ask your father if he wanted to trade some of his pictures for some of mine.”

     He managed a smile, not sure if he was going to get a laugh or a punch in the face.

     Hannah and Mark said, at more or less the same time, “Shut up, Bryan.”

     Little Markie took exception.

     “Hey, you told me it’s not nice to tell people to shut up.”

     “Well, that’s true, little man. But it’s okay for big people to tell Uncle Bryan to shut up because, well, Uncle Bryan isn’t really a people.”

     “Sure he is.”

     “No. Seriously. Your Uncle Bryan was born on the planet Imbecile. So he’s ki
nd of an alien, not a people.”

     Markie’s eyes grew as big as saucers, but he cast his mother a suspicious glance. He wasn’t sure if he was being had.

     “Are you sure?”

     “Yep. I’m sure. And he even has green blood instead of red.”

     “Really?”

     “Yep. And if he ever says the word ‘pictures’ again in my presence I’ll prove it to you.”

     Mark looked at the clock and said, “It’s time for you to go off to school, little man.”

     “But my books and backpack aren’t here. They’re over at our other place.”

     “That’s okay. I’m sure that Miss Karen has extras over here you can use for now.”

    “Daddy, when can we go back? I don’t like it over here anymore.”

     Mark struggled with an answer, but his brother came to the rescue.

     “Come on, Markie. I’ll walk to school with you. But you’ll have to walk slow so I can keep up.”

     “Okay. Deal.”

     He kissed his Mom goodbye and gave Mark a hug, then went off to school.

     Hannah waited until Markie and Bryan were out of sight before she gave her husband a stern warning.

     “I know Bryan, and I know he will be bugging you for copies of those photos before you delete them. Just be aware that if you share them with him, and I ever find out, I will never speak to you again.”

     “By never speaking to me again, that means no more yelling at me?”

     “That means no more of anything.”

     “Anything?”

     “
Anything.
”

     “Ouch. In that case, you have my solemn promise.”

Chapter 46

     Alvarez awoke that morning to the same video playing on the monitor. It had been on repeat all night long, playing over and over again.

     He stopped it. He’d done enough living in the past. It was time to get back to the present.

     It was time to reestablish his reputation as a hardass. To fix whatever damage he’d done the evening before by letting some of his crew get a glimpse at his softer side.  

     He got up, stretched, and tried to check on his crew.

     “Demos, this is Alvarez. What’s up at the gate?”

     No answer.

     “Demos, this is Alvarez. Come in.”

     Nothing.

     It never dawned on Alvarez that his radio might be dead. The only thing that occurred to him was that Demos had his own radio turned off or was sleeping on the job.

     He rushed out to the gate to find out which, and to beat the crap out of Demos.

     “Hey, what’s up, boss?”

     “Why the hell didn’t you answer your radio?”

     “The radios are all dead, man. They started going out one by one during the night.”

     “Why didn’t somebody wake me?”

     “We figured there was nothing you could do. And we figured you needed your rest after all the crap that went down yesterday.”

     “That wasn’t your decision to make, ChoMo. I said to wake me up if anything went wrong.”

     The truth was that nobody had the guts to wake up Alvarez.

     Another truth was that no matter what Demos had done, it would have been wrong in
Alvarez’ eyes. Alvarez didn’t like Demos. Despised him, in fact.

    
Mark Demos, and the other man with him guarding the gate, were convicted child molesters. In a prison hierarchy, child molesters are called ChoMos by the other prisoners. They are on the lowest rung of the ladder, abused by convicts and prison guards alike.

     And these two, Demos and Joe Warren, were hated by everyone.

     Alvarez wasn’t even sure why they hadn’t been killed long before. For some reason, Skully had taken a liking to both of them and had taken them under his wing. They’d been on Skully’s crew for so long everyone else was used to having them around. But that didn’t make them any more welcome. They were still, and always would be, outcasts.

    
Alvarez was tempted to just blow them away himself, to cleanse their ranks. But now wasn’t a good time. He needed all the bodies he could get, to ward off the attack he was sure was coming. And these two ChoMos, while they weren’t much good for much else, could pull guard duty and shoot.

     So he’d let them live a little longer. But he wouldn’t tolerate any crap from them.

     Alvarez turned to go back into the building to search for radio batteries when he heard a scraping noise on the other side of the gate.

     “What the hell is that?”

     Warren laughed.

     “Oh, that’s just Steiger. He crawled all the way over here from where he got shot yesterday. Said he wants in. We’re just waiting for him to die.”

     “Open the damn gate.”

     Another thing Demos and
Warren did well was follow orders. Because they were afraid not to.

    
The two shoved the gate to one side and Alvarez grabbed Steiger by the shirt collar and dragged him into the yard.

     “Steiger, why are you wasting my damn time? Why haven’t you die
d yet?”

     The man looked up at
Alvarez with glazed eyes. He tried to form words, but couldn’t get anything out. His mouth was a foamy pink, and he was slowly drowning in his own blood.

    
Alvarez obviously couldn’t be bothered. He stood up and drew the Glock handgun from his holster and shot the wounded man in the forehead.

     He knew that went a long way to further his rep as a man who did not play. At least in the minds of Demos and
Warren.

     But that wasn’t enough. He reholstered his handgun, stood over Steiger’s body, and relieved himself on the dead man’s face.

     As Alvarez emptied his bladder, Demos and Warren laughed. Joe Warren, in particular, giggled like a school girl, obviously enjoying the show.

     When he was finished,
Alvarez growled, “Drag this piece of crap over to the burn pit with the others. Then put some gas on the bodies and set them on fire before they start to stink this place up.”