James Grippando - Last Call

"Just a little interrogation," said MacDonald.

The man stepped closer and stopped behind Theo. Theo raised his head to look.

"Eyes forward," the man said, turning Theo's face away with a prod of his nightstick to the chin.

The signs of abuse were all over him, and Theo could only surmise that this officer was smart enough to keep Theo from witnessing the reproving looks he was throwing a fellow guard.

"You can go, MacDonald," the man said.

"But I'm not finished." I said go.

Theo sensed tension in the ensuing silence, but finally MacDonald crossed the room and opened the door. He stopped and said, "I should have cuffed him sooner. Unfortunately I had to use force after the prisoner jumped me. It'll all be in my report."

"Beat it," the man said.

The door closed, and Theo was alone in the interrogation room with the other officer.

"You all right?" he asked Theo.

"Been better."

"Can you walk?"

"If it gets me outta here, I can."

Theo groaned with pain as the guard took his arm and helped him up. The man was black. Thus far Theo had dealt only with white and Hispanic guards, so he didn't recognize him. He glanced at the name tag. Jefferson.

"Where's it hurt?" said Jefferson.

"Everywhere," said Theo. "My ribs, mostly."

"Come on. Let's get you up to the infirmary."

"Just take me to my cell."

"No," the guard said. "MacDonald packs a wallop. You need to spend the night in the infirmary. Doctor can check you out first thing in the morning and get you over to Jackson if need be."

Jackson Memorial Hospital was where Theo had ended up after the drive-by shooting. If this kept up, they'd be selling him a time-share. "I already got stitches in my head. He bust 'em open?"

"Doesn't look like it," said Jefferson.

With the guard's help, Theo put one foot in front of the other and made it to the door. The guard shut off the light, and they started down the corridor. Theo was shuffling his feet more than walking, the pain in his ribs forcing him to favor his left side.

"Good thing for me you came when you did," said Theo.

"Good thing for everyone."

This Jefferson seemed like an all right dude. It was worth a shot to probe for a little information. "MacDonald tells me Moses killed a state trooper tonight."

"MacDonald talks too much."

"He thinks I know where Moses was headed."

"Like I said: he talks too much."

So much for loose lips.

Another guard looked on with mild amusement as Jefferson and his battered prisoner passed in the hallway. They walked another thirty feet and stopped at the iron bars. The buzzer sounded, the door slid open, and they entered the next wing. Theo's legs were killing him, but thankfully it only took another two minutes to reach the infirmary. The door was made of chain link rather than iron bars. Jefferson unlocked it with his key and escorted Theo inside.

The medical staff had gone home for the night, so Jefferson signed Theo's name into the log book at the registration desk and took him inside. The infirmary was a dormitory-style facility with a dozen beds on either side of the rectangular-shaped room and a wide aisle down the center. A crash cart and a gurney were in the corner, next to a row of IV poles. Only one other inmate was a patient, and he was asleep at the other end of the room, snoring loudly. It was lights-out for the entire jail, but the barred windows had no shades, and the nighttime security lighting allowed them to see what they were doing. Jefferson put Theo in the near bed.

Theo let out another groan as he settled onto the mattress. It was more comfortable than the bunk in his cell, but not even a heated waterbed could have soothed these bruises. That his hands were still cuffed behind his back only made it worse. Jefferson helped him roll onto his side and slid a pillow under his head. Theo asked for water, and the guard brought him a cup to rinse the blood from his mouth. Fortunately, the bleeding had stopped.

Jefferson said, "I'll find MacDonald and see if I can get the keys to these cuffs."

"That would help."

"You okay for now?"

"I think so."

Jefferson left him there. Theo heard his footsteps fade, heard the door open and then close. The noise was loud enough to disturb the other inmate. He snorted twice, smacked like a toddler eating peanut butter, and mercifully his snoring stopped. Theo lay with his back to him, however, so he couldn't tell if the man was actually awake or simply sleeping in a position that wasn't conducive to snoring. Either way, Theo appreciated the silence.

Theo closed his eyes, but they soon opened. Oddly, the silence was almost too complete, at least for a jail. Snoring, farting, puking, grunting, cursing, pissing, howling, sucking, fucking – those were the normal sounds of prison in the dead of night. It felt strange to hear none of it. Beyond strange.

Theo lay motionless in the bed. His left arm was falling asleep from lying on it, but the rest of his body was wide awake. He stayed in that position for five solid minutes. Ten minutes. Almost half an hour. Either Jefferson had forgotten about him or he was having trouble finding MacDonald. He wasn't coming back with the keys to the handcuffs anytime soon. Theo would just have to make the best of it.

He shifted his weight, trying to get comfortable. Then he heard a noise. "Jefferson?" he said.

There was no answer.

He was sure he'd heard something. He remained perfectly still, completely silent.

There it was again – a kind of scuffing noise, but it was so faint that Theo couldn't determine where it was coming from.

"Jefferson, that you?" he said.

The room was silent.

Theo's pulse quickened. Lying alone on death row for four years had taught him to differentiate sounds. He could tell the difference between mechanical sounds and the sounds of the building. The sounds of falling rain and a leaky faucet. The sounds of his cell and another cell. The sounds of an inmate and a guard. The sounds that meant nothing and those that meant trouble.

He heard the noise again – louder, closer, a stealthy attacker's misplaced footfall. Theo sprang into action, but with his hands cuffed behind his back, he couldn't react fast enough. The man quickly overpowered him, burying a knee in Theo's back and pinning him facedown on the mattress. Before Theo could even get a word out, the cord was around his neck. He heard himself groan. His vision blurred. His groaning turned to wheezing. The man pulled tighter, his grip tightening.

Theo kicked and squirmed, but he felt himself weakening. Arterial flow continued in the head and neck, bringing more blood from the heart. The veins, however, were completely compressed, leaving the blood no escape, building pressure on the brain. His head pounded with congestion, like the worst sinus headache imaginable. His eyes bulged, and his face flushed red. He could taste blood, not just from the earlier wounds Officer MacDonald had inflicted, but as additional small bleeding sites erupted in the moist, soft mucosa of his lips and mouth.

Theo felt the man's weight shift. He was leaning forward, and Theo suddenly felt his breath on the back of his neck.

"This is for-"

Before the man could finish, Theo arched his spine and threw his head back like a wild bull, effecting a reverse head butt. It was a direct hit, and the man cried out in pain. Theo seized the opportunity, drawing up his knees, pushing up with all his strength, and sending his attacker flying to the floor. The cord was off his neck. Theo coughed as he sucked in air, but he didn't miss a beat. He rolled off the bed – falling, more than pouncing on his attacker. His arms were useless, but Theo had legs like an Olympic wrestler, and he immediately recognized his serious height and weight advantage over this punk. They were both on the floor. Theo had the guy in a scissors lock, nearly crushing his attacker's skinny neck between his massive thighs.