He can kill me too. And probably will. Unless Manson gets to me first.
Only when Manson and Tyree had left the room did he wipe the blood off his face with his napkin.
CHAPTER 66
AFTER THE MEAL they were allowed thirty minutes outside. Outside being a floor of concrete in the middle of the prison courtyard with a sheet of razor wire as a roof and a lone and netless basketball hoop and patched ball as apparently the sole recreation.
So much for the liberal human touch, thought Stone.
Some of the prisoners slowly jogged in tight circles, one bounced the ball, yet most just stood there staring down at their shoes. Up on the tower walks were the guards, their AK-47s, shotguns, and sniper rifles at the ready and clearly visible to every man down in the pit. Stone noticed that there was a blue line that ran around the concrete field.
"You cross that line, put one toe over it, the man up there shoot you." This came from a small, twitchy inmate with a bristly gray mustache, wild hair and eyes that didn't promise much of anything behind them.
"Thanks for the scoop," Knox said. "They forgot to mention that in the orientation class."
Twitchy looked at Knox and laughed. "Hey, that's a good one. That's a damn good one." He looked at Stone. "You boys ever getting out?"
"Doesn't look that way," Stone answered. "You?"
"Life, life, life," Twitchy said in a singsong voice. "Three life sentences to run consecutively instead of concurrently. That's a big-ass difference. Oh yeah, I found that out. Both begin with the letter 'c' but that's where the similar shit stops, man."
"I can see that." Stone methodically eyed the position of each tower walk, and the shooting angles available to the guards up there. He came away impressed with the design of the place. It wouldn't take great skill to kill any man down here before he even had a chance to piss on the concrete, much less make a break for freedom.
"Is that what most people are here? Lifers?" Knox asked.
"Everybody I know is, and I been here eleven years. Least I think it's been eleven. Used to keep a calendar but I ran out of wall space. It ain't matter. No parole for old Donny boy."
"What'd you do, old Donny boy?" Knox asked, the distaste clear in his tone though Donny boy seemed oblivious to it.
"Killed me three little kids," he said as matter-of-factly as though he were merely giving his date of birth. He blew his nose in his cupped hands and then wiped them on his thighs.
"And why the hell would you do that, Donny boy?" Knox asked as his fingers curled into a fist.
"'Cause the bitch told me to, that's why. They was her kids from her second marriage, man. Insurance money. Least that's what she said. Seduced me. That's right. Gave me some ass. High on shit when I killed ' em too. You'd think that'd be a defense, wouldn't you? But hell no it ain't. I was robbed, man, robbed. I mean, where the hell is the accountability?"
"Accountability?" Knox said incredulously.
"Yeah, man. Lawyers, judges, bitches giving ass to make you do shit. Nobody wants to take responsibility for nuthin' no more. It's a damn disgrace. God bless America but we need to get our shit together in this country."
Knox clenched his teeth. "Did she get three life sentences?"
"The bitch? Hell no! Blamed it all on me. And she's married again and sitting pretty with all that insurance money, while my ass rots in here. Called me a maniac at my trial. And we had cocktails together, man. I swear to God."
"Sounds like you needed a better lawyer. But then again I think you're right where you need to be, Donny. Now why don't you go find another corner to hang out on?" Knox said, taking a menacing step toward the man.
Before Donny could move, Stone hooked him by the arm even as one of the tower guards stared down at them, his hands perched on the trigger guard of the AK.
"Hey, Donny, you been in many prisons?" Stone asked.
"Me? Hell yeah. This here's my fourth one. And my second supermax," he added with pride.
"Why'd you get sent to Dead Rock?"
"Hit a guard. They ain't like it when you hit them, but they sure as hell don't mind busting our asses, do they?"
"Yep, life's real unfair," Knox exclaimed.
"I bet you're a guy notices stuff. Notice anything weird around here?" Stone said.
"Notice stuff? Man, we only get one hour out a day. Half for chow, half for this recreation shit. Twenty-three hours and two meals in the old eight-by-twelve after that. Ain't much time to notice stuff."
While they were talking the man bouncing the ball let it get away from him. It rolled past the blue line. He went to get it.
"Oh, hell," said Knox, who had just noticed this. "Hey, buddy!"
The man either didn't hear him or didn't care. He crossed the line and the bullet hit him right in the back. He went down, face first. Stone and Knox started to run toward him, but other shots were fired and they pulled up.
As they watched, two guards sauntered over and picked the man up. There was no blood, Stone noted.
Donny said, "They use those damn dummy bullets if it's your first time. Hurt like hell. Knock your ass out, but it ain't kill you. Now, if it's your second time, well, you ain't gonna be around for a third time, get my drift?"
They returned to their corner as the unconscious man was carried away.
Stone continued their previous conversation. "What about the prison library? Classes? Workshop? You notice anything there?"
Donny snorted. "What, you been watching reruns of Escape from Alcatraz? Look around, man, ain't no Clint Eastwood 'round here. They been promising a library the whole time my ass has been here and I ain't seen one damn book yet. Supposed to have GED classes on TV too, but they say it keeps breaking down. Ain't no workshops. Ain't no nuthin'. Get a shower three times a week for five minutes and they stick a damn poker up your butt every time they do that, like you gonna pull a bazooka out your ass somehow and blow ' em away. I'd rather stay dirty. Ain't like I got nowhere to go."
He popped a piece of gum in his mouth and chewed it hard with the few teeth he had.
"Visitors, phone calls home? Lawyers?"
Donny chuckled. "At Dead Rock you got to earn your visits. Get a max of two a month. You screw up the least little thing, guess what, you ain't getting no visitors. And guess what else? From what I hear ain't been nobody earn a visit at this place in the last five years. I sure as hell ain't. Not like there's many folks lining up to come see me, but still. And you got to call collect if you even get near the damn phone. And not even my damn momma is gonna pay for a collect call from me. And ain't no lawyers coming up here. Ain't no more appeals for these boys. Everybody's forgotten us. We ain't anybody no more. We Dead Rock. Gonna die here, just the way it is. Better get used to it." He swallowed his gum and hacked up some phlegm.
Stone looked around at the other prisoners. "People seem a little mellow here." He eyed Donny. "Little too mellow."
Donny cracked a smile and drew closer. "You noticed that too? Most of these boys ain't never caught on to that crap."
"So what drug do they use?"
"Ain't know, but it's pretty strong."
"Do they put it in the chow?"
Donny nodded.
"Which meal?"
"Lunch or dinner, but that's the thing. You never know which one."
"So why do you seem so chipper?"
Donny's eyes twinkled. "I could let you in on my little secret, but what you gonna gimme me for it? Now that's the sixty-four-zillion-dollar question."
Stone started to say something but Knox broke in. "Tell us and if I ever get out of here, I'll take you away from old Dead Rock."
"Right, shit you will. And besides, you ain't never getting out of here."
"I'm a fed, Donny. Assigned to look into corrupt prisons. You think this place is corrupt?"