Page 8 of Forsaken


  Chapter 8

  After a fitful two hours of sleep, Elaine woke to the news that all groups were canceled, as maintenance had to be done on the air purification system. She spent a long, boring day filing paperwork and cleaning her desk. Michael hung around her for a lot of the earlier part, moaning and groaning about Sarah, saying how he thought she was lying about him to Todd. He made mention several times that he knew her password into the computer files, and was just waiting for the chance to take a look at them.

  Through the day her mind kept lingering on Ronald. Something in his touch, in his smile, captivated and intrigued her. She couldn’t remember the last time she had feeling for a man—in her more depressed moments, she wondered if she didn’t prefer the company of other women. Maybe it was the danger, maybe it was the sincerity in his voice, but she daydreamed for a few moments of being with him, locked in his cell, as he ravaged her.

  There was a danger of succumbing to the temptation of the caged beast that she was made aware of in her first weeks at the prison. No matter how moral a person, no matter how confident and focused, one could always be touched by the sight of caged fury. Only now did she fully appreciate the sentiment, for as she thought on Ronald’s eyes that hung as twin pearls in the darkness of his cell she felt the danger and the lust, the excitement of being near someone who had murdered, or raped, or tortured innocents. She saw Ronald as a wolf yearning to be free, a terrible force of nature and instinct, a beast still with its claws, ready to pounce, and strike. The days that were so clinically sterile before now became laced with passion and romance, with desire and danger. Her heart finally beat in her chest, and she could feel its strength, and knew it to be right.

  A more pressing problem was how she would gain access into the prison from now on. She couldn’t spare many more panties for Philip, and she was loathe to lead him on. By the scheduled rotation, Colin was supposed to take over, and while she knew he would be spending some time with Luke, he would be at his post most of the time. For a moment she debated about giving him something of Sarah’s but he was one of the last people she would trust.

  Then her eyes were drawn, after lunch, to the euals working on the purification unit.

  Could I really make it through the air ducts? Isn’t that too clichéd to work?

  Elaine bit into Michael’s boastings, and watched as he used Sarah’s password to sign into the computer. After humoring Michael for an hour as he poured through confidential file after file, she went back to her desk and used Sarah’s password to sign in. For most of the day she rummaged through the plans of the prison on her computer, going over where the ducts led. It was a deceptively massive complex, built with low ceilings and tight corridors, but in fact possessing a great deal of empty space between the rooms. Though she thought it was a new building by the look of the fixtures and furniture, it was in fact converted from an old federal facility. While there were no plans of the original layout, after examining the plans repeatedly, she got a sense of what probably existed there before.

  I’ll bet this was an administration facility. Where we counselors live, was probably storage space for equipment. The cells actually are the center of the complex, a building built within another. Around them were all the offices—hundreds probably, organized like some trapezoid around the empty space where the prison is. She took a look closely at the path between her suite and the prison block, and found the air purification system was separate for both sections. While it was wide enough to accommodate a person, the exhaust vent exited just in front of the main checkpoint to enter the cells. Well, that’s at least smart of them—no prisoner could use it to escape. She looked at the electrical routing, and found it also was separate for both sections, so if power went off in one, it would remain in the others, to power the main security doors. Good design also. Both emergency generators are on opposite sides of the complex, so no one could knock out power for the entire facility at once. She turned to the sewage system, rifling through to one of the older plans. Ahhh . . . they kept the original sewer lines, and added on new ones to lead into the prison. I knew somewhere, someone would want to save some money. She found a main sewer line connected the entire prison, running under the civilian quarters, under the entire cell block, and emptying out into a main tank some fifty meters from the prison. For a prisoner to get out, they’d have to rip out an entire toilet, and they would only survive the fall from the lower level. She leaned back in frustration, after looking at the dimensions of the pipe itself. That’s barely wider than my shoulders! Even if I could access it and find an exit point, I’d be completely covered in shit.

  As the day came to a close, and she made her way out of the Hub, the architecture of the building kept drawing her eye. She saw bulges where there were none in the plans, saw whole spaces concealed behind walls also not in the plans. There must be more that they’re hiding. And if there’s something back there, it must be able to be accessed from somewhere in here.

  Over the next two days she re-created the plans from memory. She found she had an excellent memory, and scaled down the plans for each floor so they fit in her pocket. She then drew in the new additions, making note of locked doors that could possibly lead out. It was then she noticed that all those mystery doors had a camera directly overhead.

  Isaac.

  A few days later, as she was debating with herself as to how to handle Isaac, she paused at a window overlooking the recreation area in a section of the Hub. The men seemed small, yet vicious to her, like a swarm of piranhas darting back and forth, aching to feast. The curious thing was that for the first time, she saw that while they were vicious beasts, they seemed to default into a discernable group, with the strongest and most aggressive hovering around the perimeter, as if the prisoners were unconsciously protecting themselves. Something within her knew this was how true piranhas lived, grouping in schools not to hunt and attack, but primarily for protection.

  Why am I thinking of fish?

  She shook off her societal observations, as her eyes drifted and hung on Ronald. She saw him playing a smaller version of soccer with a few of the other men his age. He moved quickly, his limbs still made up of dense muscle. He moved with a certain grace that Elaine found very appealing.

  I can’t believe I’m thinking about breaking into a prison, to sleep with a prisoner. Is this what my life has become?

  “Enjoying the show?”

  She was startled by the man next to her.

  “No, Tannis,” she replied, composing herself. “Just thinking over some things.”

  Tannis was, by far, the most curious member of the prison staff. A man in his late forties that moved as if he was in his early sixties, he usually had a cigarette in his mouth and eyes the color of the alarm chime: red and bloodshot. He interacted infrequently with the counselors, preferring to patrol the perimeter or the neglected areas of the facility.

  “It’s an odd group of fools we have here, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” she nodded absently. She never liked Tannis, but then, she never fully disliked him. She knew Isaac did most of the criminal activities, while Tannis did most of the underhanded beatings. But he knew his job, and a few times he even helped her out of a tough scrape with a prisoner. Often she would see him hanging back as his guards would take care of a situation. She would see his eyes scanning the area, watching those just outside the fray. A part of Elaine knew he might be the most dangerous of guards, for in a time of crisis, he would have the level head, and be able to respond with a well-thought out strategy.

  “You ever notice that Matthew clique?” he asked, gesturing over to where Matthew sat on a bench, seemingly alone.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Who’s around him?”

  “Isn’t that Mark, sitting against the wall behind him?”

  “Yup. And on the other side is Luke, taunting the guys playing soccer. And near him is John, freshly released from solitary.”

  She watched for a few more mom
ents, seeing how they never strayed far from one another. A couple of times Mark would say something to Matthew, who would appear to be making a decision, then say something back. Mark would nod deferentially, and then sit back down.

  “I thought everyone hated Matthew?”

  “Outside of the rec area, everyone does. But in there, that’s how it always plays out. A few speak directly to Matthew, and when they do, it’s like they’re speaking to their boss. The other prisoners walk past and don’t even touch Matthew, whereas outside, in the cafeteria, they beat on him. And those four people—Matthew, Luke, Mark and John, always stay near each other in the rec area. Outside, they barely speak to one another.”

  Elaine became genuinely fascinated by his observations, at the same time, wondering if he ever watched her.

  How much do my motions betray myself? Who do I always speak to, and how would it look to someone watching me?

  “Ain’t it your turn to give that stupid speech to all the cons?”

  Elaine snapped her fingers. “I keep forgetting! How is it you remember anyway?”

  “Nothing better than watching good people make total fools of themselves.”

  “You like to watch, don’t you?”

  Tannis lit a cigarette, and took a long drag. “It’s funny, how much one learns from a distance – as an outsider. How many other people are in the same position I’m in—to watch over a society, almost as an outsider that can’t be seen? Whenever I get camera duty from Isaac, I sit all day and just watch.”

  “Ever think of becoming a sociologist?”

  He shook his head, as he let out a cloud of smoke. “They won’t let you in those schools, when you’ve done what I’ve done. I may not be locked in, like them, but I’m a prisoner all the same—a prisoner of my poor decisions. I may not deal in drugs like Isaac and the others, but I’ve been there. I only wish I had someone who would’ve told me what I was doing would hurt me in so many ways.”

  “If only they felt the same way,” she said, motioning to the prisoners, who now were being called back in from the rec area, as if they were still in elementary school. “None of them feel remorse over what they did, none of them even think of how their victims felt.”

  “You remember that, Lainey,” he said with a stern face. He dropped the cigarette on the floor, and ground it to shreds with the heel of his boot. “Some of them can be real nice and sweet, say just what you wanna hear. But these are the best of the best—so many of them conned their way into people’s hearts, only to literally cut them out and eat them before their eyes. They have no remorse for killing anyone—they certainly have no remorse for lying to and using someone. You remember that, Lainey.”

  He moved off, and she felt stung to her core by his words. But now it had turned into a challenge, and she felt as if she were in a human game of chess played with an unseen opponent. As she returned to her office, and prepared for her group, her mind wouldn’t give it up.

  I can’t use the sewers, can’t get into the doors because of the cameras, and even if I could, who’s to say where they would lead? I can’t make it past Colin, ‘cause I can’t bribe him with anything and still trust him.

  She was still thinking to herself, still debating her options as she conducted her group. Luke was a temporary addition, as Simon was sick. She struggled not to look at him too close or probe too deeply as a result of what she heard.

  “Alright, so let’s do some rhyming,” she stated, in a chipper voice. “I’d like each of you to take this crayon and paper, and write out four lines that rhyme. I’d like you to write about something nobody else knows, but that you’d like to share with the group. And we all know the rules! No bad words, no writing about what bad things you may have done in the past. You have five minutes!”

  As they wrote, Elaine couldn’t help glancing at Ronald, who would carefully steal a glance at her and smile. Blake was overseeing her group now, and she knew he was the last person to trust, so she kept her smiles and nods brief and quick. The prisoners moved like molasses, so she gave them an extra minute.

  “Alright, I think that’s all we can give. Now, John, why don’t you start.”

  “Wherever I go, whatever I do

  I feel like my feet are stuck in glue

  you went so far away

  my love, my sweet dog with which I played.”

  Elaine gritted her teeth, struggling not to laugh at how bad it was.

  “That’s very good John. I think we all can relate, as many of us have had pets that we loved a great deal. Ronald, why don’t you go next?”

  “Blue and yellow, pink and light

  soft and mellow in a distant haze

  the morning sky beckons with sweet delight

  to take me from these lazy days.”

  “Nice also Ronald . . . about a vacation?”

  “Yes, one I took a long time ago.”

  “Good, good. Well Luke, let’s hear yours.”

  “I hide myself in shadow and mist

  debating whether I still exist

  they see me love, they see me sex

  and yet they know not whom I need best.”

  “Hmmm . . .” she said, thinking on Luke for a moment longer. “Very interesting.”

  She went through the rest of their poems, and then decided to have one on one conferences on one side of the room. As she made her way through the prisoners, she devised a plan. When Luke sat in front of her for his conference, she leaned in close.

  “I see you have Colin’s eye.”

  “You could say that,” he said, a little confused. Luke crossed his legs tightly and smoothed his hair, preening for an unseen mirror. It was slightly comical to watch for Elaine, as he was tall with lean, firm muscles. His face was like chiseled granite, with a square jaw and deep-set blue eyes. He looked like a Titan of old trying to wear a dress, but she knew better than to let even the hint of a snicker come out. “Why do you ask?”

  “I need a favor.”

  He crossed his arms with a haughty expression of disdain. “What’s that?”

  “I need you to get Colin to let a prisoner walk out of the cellblock.”

  Luke guffawed, and Blake glanced over. “Why would I do that?”

  She crossed her arms, undeterred. “What do you want?”

  Luke looked her up and down. “You don’t have anything I need.”

  “Come on . . . money? Drugs? What does Colin pay you?”

  “None of your business. Are we done?”

  She sat back and sighed, and as she was about to respond, she saw his face in a different light. He held his head proudly, as if, though tormented, he would never break. His eyes seemed to be those of a predator, his mouth curled in an expression of vengeance and hate.

  “You . . . you don’t like being with men, do you?”

  He turned towards her, his face shifting like a chameleon in the moonlight.

  “Why do you say that? You won’t hear any complaints from Colin, or anyone else for that matter.”

  As much as a part of her wanted to give up and settle down for the usual routine of the day, she couldn’t, and wouldn’t. She racked her brain the rest of the night, and finally the next morning she had a solution. She worked out again in the recreation yard, this time near Matthew.

  “Hello Matthew.”

  “Hello Elaine.”

  Luke, Mark and John hovered nearby, until Matthew dismissed them with a nod of his head. Elaine sat down next to him.

  “You know, everyone here calls me Lainey.”

  “Why? Sounds like some whiny version of a proud name.”

  She nodded, as she never thought of it like that. She always hated the name ‘Lainey,’ yet always felt it prudent not to correct the guards or prisoners, either of whom were substantially larger than her.

  “That’s true. Listen Matthew, I was wondering if you would do me a favor.”

  “You want me to talk to Luke for you?”

  “How did you know?”


  “He told me of your conversation, and I saw you watching us the other day with Tannis. Tannis is a very bright man, one who is quite observant—for a guard. You know the question I would ask?”

  She readied herself for the inevitable question. “What’s in it for you?”

  “Yes. Why would I ask Luke to overextend himself like that? Jeopardize a comfortable relationship?”

  “I can’t answer you. You seem like the type who wouldn’t care about drugs, cigarettes, or extra food. What would you want? I confess . . . I am at a disadvantage. I am quite serious that I want this accomplished, and I know you to be my only hope.”

  He turned to face her, and for a moment, she became disoriented. For some reason a sense of déjà-vu overcame her, as if she had seen him somewhere before and not in a prison uniform.

  “Hope is a funny word—especially in here,” said Matthew. “We exist in a curious state of opposites, where we aren’t broken, yet not encouraged, either. Have you been in many prisons, Elaine?

  “No, I can’t say I have.”

  “But then, you wouldn’t remember even if you had.”

  She nodded. “True.”

  “I have been in a prison before. My memory may not be whole, but I distinctly remember the experience. It was a dirty, disgusting place that reeked of excrement and urine. But more than that, it was a place where the souls of men were ground to dust. The guards, the wardens, worked with the stronger prisoners to keep the population broken and wasted. They allowed drugs to get in, so prisoners wouldn’t escape, yet whenever one got too full of himself, the guards would break him down. ‘Rape’ lost all its negative connotations, as the law of kill or be killed prevailed. The longer one stayed there, the more likely they were to die there.”

  “It doesn’t sound too much unlike this place.”

  “This place? This place is a paradise in comparison. Oh, we have our Blakes and Isaacs, our addicts and rapists. But everything here is so . . . orderly, in comparison. Great care is taken so no one gets too damaged.”

  His words rung true to her. “Why do you think?”

  “It’s all about hope, Elaine. I feel . . . I feel as though someone hasn’t given up on us, that we are being kept in a stasis here, unchanging, keeping our small morsels of hope intact.”

  “But . . . but you’re all murders and sociopaths, liars and rapists and thieves! Why would anyone do that for you?”

  “Why would a counselor bargain with an inmate? Those are questions I cannot answer, for I don’t have all the information. But I do know a little more than you.” He leaned back, nodding to himself. She knew she had seen him do this a hundred times before, and it always presaged a task she wouldn’t like doing. “So, you asked for a form of payment? Then here it is: you need to look in the mirror. I will get Luke to do as you ask, but you need to look in the mirror for ten minutes each and every night for the next two weeks. After those two weeks, come back to me, and tell me what you see.”

  Elaine reeled, utterly confused. “Why?”

  “More questions that you should be searching for answers for. And ease off the stims – they do nothing for your complexion. Reduce your dosage to one every other day.”

  For an instant, she bristled at his tone, as the last thing she wanted to do was take advice or orders from a prisoner. “What are you, my doctor?”

  “If you want my help, you’ll do as I say. All will either be made clear, or not. That is to be determined after the two weeks.”

  She passed a message to Ronald the next day, and that night she sat up, waiting.

  Why does he want me to look in the mirror? She went into her bathroom and turned on the light. She stood in front of the mirror, doing as she had done earlier, and examined herself. Her eyebrows arched, maybe a little more than the average woman’s, yet were thin and black. Her nose was not too thin, not too full, and had a long, even curve from her eyebrow to her nostril. Her lips had a fullness, a ripeness, that still could be enchanting even with her years.

  What does he want me to look at?

  She heard a knock at her door, and her heart raced. She rushed into her living room and opened the door slowly. Ronald crept in, and she closed it carefully behind him.

  “I can’t believe you managed this!” he cried, as they embraced each other. “You really do trust me?”

  “I can’t lie, Ronald,” she said, motioning him to a chair. “I may not fully trust you, but . . . well, I need to try to trust someone.”

  He sat down carefully in one of her chairs—almost meekly, with his knees pressed together and his hands clasped over them.

  “It’s been a long time since I felt comfortable,” he said with a smile. “I can’t believe I’m here!”

  She went into the kitchen, and came back in with a small tray. “Here’s some tea and biscuits for you.”

  “Thank you, Lainey, thank you.” He inhaled deeply of its vapors. “This certainly takes me back. So, what shall we talk of?”

  “Well, what would we talk of, if we weren’t in here?” asked Elaine.

  “The war,” he groaned, “I’ll bet everyone speaks of the war.”

  “I’ll bet they do.” She leaned back. “No one in here speaks of it. It’s like we’re in some cocoon, isolated from the entire world.”

  “You mean, not even your colleagues talk it over with you?”

  “We all have different . . . perspectives on things, and we don’t often agree.”

  Ronald tried to be polite and refrain from eating, but it had been too long since he had something as delicate and sweet at the biscuits. He ate one with relish, and took a sip of his tea. “If there is one thing I miss about the outside world, it’s speaking with someone with similar interests, an intelligent mind.”

  “I guess it’s like the old saying—you don’t appreciate what you have, until it’s taken away.”

  He nodded his head, and they sat for a while, in silence.

  “I wish I were better conversation,” he said apologetically. “I just haven’t been exposed to much of it in quite a while.”

  “I know. Honestly, it’s just good to have someone here, someone I feel comfortable with.”

  He looked up at her clock. “Well, I better be getting back. Colin said this first time would be the test—he only gave me a half-hour, and if I wasn’t back, he’d hunt me down and kill me. And somehow, I don’t think that he was joking.” They both stood, and she walked him to the door. “I’m so glad you trusted me, Elaine. You have no idea how much it means to me.”

  “And it feels good to trust someone, and not be let down.” She held him, and he her, and they stood in each other’s arms for a few moments.

  “Good night, Elaine.”

  She pulled down his head, and kissed him on his cheek.

  “Good night, Ronald.”