Richard Stephenson - Collapse

Beauford turned his attention to the inmate he had been charged with watching. His neck was bright red and raw. Blood had soaked into the bed sheet around his neck. Richard must have been hanging up there for a while, kicking before he managed to knock down the things on top of his sink. He checked the pulse on his neck and to his great relief realized that Richard was indeed still alive. He opened Richard’s right eye to find his retinas had flecks of blood in them. For a brief second he thought Richard’s eye focused and looked at him. Beauford saw this and began to slap his face.

“Richard, Richard! C’mon buddy, stay with me, I know you’re in there!”

Beauford then laid Richard’s head on the cold concrete floor and began chest compressions. Beauford could only perform the life saving technique for about a minute before he was winded and had to stop. Beauford rushed over to his desk and grabbed a set of leg irons out of the top drawer. He came back over to Richard and restrained him quickly with a pair of handcuffs and leg irons.

Beauford cradled his friend’s head in his arm. He wept and pleaded with his friend. “Please don’t die buddy, I’m so sorry. Help is on the way; you’re gonna be just fine.”

Richard had been able to maintain consciousness while he was hanging in his cell. He ticked off the seconds in his head while the Deputy snorted like a pig as he began to stir.

1….2….Jesus Christ don’t laugh, he just screamed like a little girl…..that’s it, open the door and get in here, hurry up…3…4…5…6…7…8…no, use your knife you moron, I’m about to die…9…10…11…finally, now hurry up and cut me down…12…13…this is going to hurt, brace yourself …14… damn that hurt… OK, start taking in shallow breaths…15…16….yes, thank you, I have a pulse. OK, stop counting, you made it. OK, give him a flicker of life in your eye. Good, good. Finally! Now stop crying! You’re pissing me off!

Richard settled in and relaxed for what was to come. He needed to recover very quickly from what just happened if he wished to gain his freedom. Before slipping the noose over his head, Richard had wrapped a towel around his neck to evenly distribute the pressure to his neck muscles. Once he was dangling, he simply tucked his chin to his chest and flexed the muscles in his neck as hard as he could, still allowing a small amount of air into his lungs. When Clements entered the cell, he went as limp as possible to give the illusion that he was dead. Clements fell for the ploy; his plan had worked perfectly. Richard wasn’t sure if Beauford would put him in full restraints. He figured on handcuffs. Leg irons maybe. Belly chain and padlock would amaze him. If Beauford put him in a belly chain the rest of his plan would be difficult, but not impossible.

Richard had spent many long, boring days sitting in the courtroom looking out the windows; he memorized every detail of the buildings and roads he could see. One day he heard an ambulance come screaming out of a building across the street. He thought about the size of the building he was in and estimated that the front entrance to the courthouse was directly across the street from the ambulance bays. One night during his long talks with Beauford, an ambulance could be heard outside the courthouse so Richard took advantage of the situation. He asked Beauford about it, and the man was kind enough to answer every single question Richard had about the frequency of emergency calls and the number of staff that worked each shift.

Richard laid on the floor of his cell for less than two minutes before a stretcher was brought in, and he was loaded up to be taken the emergency room. This was the one variable that Richard couldn’t plan for; he had no idea which hospital he would taken to. Beauford had told him that the ambulances rotated to three different local hospitals depending on how busy each ER was at any given time of day.

Based on the number of employees working in the courthouse jail, Richard deduced that the only guard that would accompany him to the ER was Deputy Clements. Once he was loaded into the ambulance he discovered that he was right — Beauford and the two paramedics were the only other people in the ambulance.

“We got a white male, early thirties, approximately two hundred pounds, pulse steady, blood pressure erratic. Severe lacerations to the neck and reticular hemorrhaging, unresponsive to sternum rub. We estimate that we’re less than ten minutes out. Over.”

“Roger, 1-6, Saint E reports they are ready to receive. Over.”

“Reticular hemorrhaging” referred to the red flecks of blood in Richard’s eyes. Given the state he was in, it meant that he had been hanging from the noose for quite some time, which of course Richard knew to be untrue. “Unresponsive to sternum rub” meant the paramedic had dug his knuckles into Richard’s sternum to see if he would respond. Richard was amazed that he didn’t flinch because it hurt like a bitch. The two phrases put together meant one thing — Richard had suffered severe brain damage. Richard knew he had to create this fiction for the paramedics or they would know he was faking and he wouldn’t get far.

“Hey, buddy. Hey, you!” The paramedic in the back was screaming at Beauford.

Beauford snapped back to reality and try to steady his voice. “Yeah, what is it?”

“How long was he hanging?”

“Uh, why?”

“Because I need to know! How long?”

“Uh, yeah. I’m not really sure, I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? I’m pretty sure he was up there for a while! What the fuck were you doing?”

Beauford had no idea what to say; he couldn’t think of a lie so he changed the subject. “Is he gonna make it?”

“Dude, at the very least this guy’s got brain damage. You got someone meeting us at Saint Elizabeth’s?”

“What do you mean?” Beauford looked utterly confused and searched his racing mind for some sort of explanation. Who would be meeting us at the hospital? Aren’t the doctors already there?

“You got back up coming or what? You notify your boss? Do you know what the hell you’re doing? Wake the fuck up and do something!”

“Uh, yeah, yeah. Hold on.”

Beauford fumbled for his radio. “Hey, Doug?”

The Control Center replied, “Go ahead, Beauford.”

“Hey Doug, uhh… this is Beauford.”

“I know who this is, Beauford! Gimme a break! What’s going on?”

“Doug, you got someone meeting us at the ER?”

“Negative. County Sheriff rides our radio net. They must know what’s going on. You didn’t tell them?”

Richard could not believe how easy this was going to be.

“Idiots!” The EMT screamed to the front of the cab. “Step on it Manny, we’re in serious trouble back here!”

Brock Hornsby was no fool. He spent three years as a medic in the army before he hired on with the Winchester County EMS. He knew exactly who the man was lying in his ambulance. He highly doubted the man was in any condition to do a thing. The man was probably a vegetable and the poor guy had even shit himse…

Richard sprang into action so quickly that the three men riding with him couldn’t have responded if Richard had moved at half his current speed. In one lightning fast motion, Richard reached up under the paramedic’s chin and with the aid of his handcuffs, rammed the paramedic’s head into the ceiling. At the same time Hornsby hit the roof, Richard rolled over onto his left hip and kicked both of his feet around, breaking Deputy Clements’ nose. Blood poured from the man’s face as he crumpled against the wall, completely terrified. Richard knew Beauford was down for the count. The paramedic proved to be a little more of a challenge, but not much. Slamming into the roof didn’t knock him out and only pissed him off. The driver slammed on the brakes, sending the truck swerving recklessly. Hornsby fell over onto Richard’s face. Richard gladly accepted the gift of the man’s ear in his mouth and bit a chunk of it off. The man howled in pain and clawed his way past Beauford, opening the back doors and falling out onto the curb. Richard moved to the front of the cab and spit the chunk of Hornsby’s ear at the driver.