A/N: James "Logan" Howlett is sent to prison after his wife is found dead. This is an AH/AU story.
Chapter 1 – Escape
Filled with numerous bumps and cracks in the road, the ride to Raft correctional facility seemed never ending to those who were bound to its destination. Without the luxury of air conditioning, the air was thick with sweat on the bus that carried the men to their future home. The bright sun flooded through the windows, illuminating the bus and blinding those that were awake. For the prisoners, the bus ride proved to be the first of many hardships they would be forced to endure on their journey to be rehabilitated by society's definition. The men sat, their hands shackled, clenched, bunched together overcrowding the twenty seats that filled the bus. Uniformly dressed in their orange scrubs that bore the number, which replaced their names, white wife-beaters underneath, and ratty white sneakers with the shoelaces already taken out; they were united in their common defeat by the laws of man. The justice of the dominant society had in the public's eyes prevailed in the battles each man fought and lost. Silence cloaked the bus while the men contemplated in their minds the life they would live behind bars. Quiet whimpers burst from the younger, smaller boys, followed by tears, while others who were labeled deviants, spending their lives in and out of institutions, such as the one where they were headed to, sought refuge in their sleep.
Leaning his head against the window he sat beside, James Logan Howlett tried to block out the bleak ambiance of the bus, not wanting to dwell on the life that awaited him. Wiping away the sweat from his heated forehead as he picked up his head from its leaning position, he turned to gaze out the windows, at the surrounding trees that were quickly passing by. Feeling as if it were the trees moving, not him, Logan could feel the world he had known all his life leaving him behind.
He knew he was in shock. He was aware of it. He had the right to it, obviously, with everything that happened. Logan just couldn't think about it. He didn't know what to think. He was in a bus; people were trying to stay as quiet as possible except for that annoying kid in the back; his life was about to end.
To his right were two men, one with silver hair, and the other with dark Spanish hair matching his Latino complexion, idly talking. Their conversation would give any bystander the impression that they had known each other before meeting on the bus. Logan speculated that they had committed their crimes together. Neither seemed aware of the situation before them. The sun's rays were gradually falling, painting the sky with endless colors; the sunset's magnificence taunted Logan as it juxtaposed evidently with the events current in his life. He longed for nightfall to quiet Mother Nature's teasing, where the world was no longer masking the evils that existed within it.
The stars remained hidden behind the clouds of night. Logan lost in a blank space where not a thought resided, was brought back to reality when the bus pulled off the road to a rest area to allow the men to make bathroom breaks. The bus came to a halt awaking any that were previously sleeping. The guards who were escorting the prisoners stood up and began unshackling the men to allow them off the bus. Illuminated by the surrounding streetlights, the rest of the area was brightly lit, as if noon in the dead of night. One by one they were led off the bus and into the resting area that smelled similar to a garbage-dumping site. Logan stood when they came to his seat, trailing behind the men in front of him. The bathrooms were typical of most public restrooms, overused and under-cleaned. Logan, not needing or willing to use the restrooms, merely watched the others. It was while observing his fellow criminals that he noticed a man far off to the side of all the others gradually skulking away from the group unnoticed by the guards' eyes. Logan saw a slender arm reach from behind the building to touch the escapee's shoulder. He jumped, but immediately calmed when he saw the woman's face. Did he really expect to get away? While selfishly putting his girl's life on the line? Logan thought while turning his head to keep his eyes on the man, ignorant to the fact that he was drawing unwanted attention to the escapee. He didn't care anymore. Not with everything.
The man had almost succeeded in his attempt to escape until the time came for the break to be over, it was when the guards were hailing the criminals back upon the bus that one discovered Logan lingering behind his attention away from his orders to load the bus. The guard then went to teach him a lesson in following instructions when he found what captivated Logan's interest.
Immediately he yelled to the other guards, "Quick, we got an escapee." Stopping in the middle of loading the bus, the men all turned to watch as two of the four guards chased after the couple trying run across the sandy ground past the building. All the men already on the bus rushed over towards the fight of the bus to gather around the windows to see the pursuit, some mocking the man's ignorance and others cheering him on for his bravery. Screaming loudly to be heard over the roaring crowd of prisoners the remaining two guards drew the weapons threatening the prisoners if they didn't calm down and situate themselves on the bus.
Roughly yanking Logan's arm, the driver of the bus pulled him on, removing his stationary pose. The driver was a burly man of six feet who was darker than the night itself, his bony hands jerking Logan's muscular arms into his nerves sent waves of pain throughout his entire body; yet no amount of pressure could relieve the heavy darkness that curled within his chest.
Logan settled himself on the nearest empty seat; he stared out the window, anxious to learn the fate of the fellow prisoner attempting to escape while the driver dialed the prison to inform them of the delay. I wonder if they'll send backup; it looked as if they guards needed assistance. Running as fast as their legs could carry them, the man and the woman strove to reach the woods up ahead while the guards began to close in on them. The guard in front, probably a police academy reject, pulled his weapon from his holster.
"Stop now or I'll shoot!" he warned. Breathing heavily, he raised his weapon firing a warning shot that echoed in the night. Yet the man ran on, his persistence to flee from the prison that awaited him overriding any logic in his mind. But his girlfriend visibly shocked by the sound of the gun, decelerated, the space between her and her lover getting wider and wider. Logan saw the gun raise a second time and knew that the girl's attempt to catch up to her lover was futile; her legs –no one's legs –could not outrun a bullet. The gun fired, the sound of its blast echoing throughout the night, bouncing off the nearby trees, and hitting the girl through the back. Logan felt himself get off the seat and press himself against the window, a cry escaping his lips. No! A harsh curse fell from the guard's lips as he realized his mistake. The girl's legs gave out from beneath her resulting in her downward tumble to the ground. Past the woman, her lover, the prisoner stood, unsure of what to do. Logan felt the man's urge to run back to his girlfriend, but at the same time, the man couldn't waste his lover's life like that.
With one last look over his shoulder, the prisoner headed straight into the woods, his one hand clamped over his mouth, attempting to cease his cries.
The guards jolted the wounded woman up from the ground and forced her to stand, the guard showed no sympathy to her bleeding gunshot wound that his fellow guard inflicted. Instead of standing unsteadily like they'd expected, the woman fell back into a heap on the ground.
The driver on the bus informed the men that they were resuming their trip, while the wounded girl was to be left in the custody of her pursuers until the ambulance arrived with medical treatment for her bullet wound. Deep within his words, Logan recognized the remorse; that woman wasn't going to see the light of tomorrow.
As the bus was leaving the rest area, Logan noticed the guard that shot her kneel beside her head, holding her hand, and whispering something desperately into the air above her while the other guard held a gun to prevent her from suddenly getting up and running again.
Through the confusion, at least one thing was absolutely clear in both their minds: they caused the deaths of the ones they loved.
Three more hours passed until the bus reached its destination. Search lights surrounded the prison, keeping the whole place brightly lit. The outer gates pulled open by the touch of a button from the control station; they had been expecting their arrival. Upon entering the gates, Logan stared at the place that would now be his home –that is, until he got out.
The prison grounds were large yet nothing like the way they were depicted in the movies. It was a medium security prison complete with many of wings of what Logan assumed were barracks for the men to stay, a large building at the back, and a recreation field to the right. The entire complex was composed of brick producing shadows that hovered around the area, giving the prison a dreary appearance. The outer gates seemed about ten feet tall and included the stereotypical barbed wire often associated with prisons.
One by one, the prisoners were led off the bus where they were told to form two single file lines as they walked up to the entrance. The men parted with the bus that held them captive only to be met by more guards who seemed agitated by their delayed arrival. Turning his head, Logan watched as the bus drove out of sight and gulped as the gates loudly closed behind it as if to emphasize his imprisonment., reminding him that as of now, freedom was a mere dream.
Trying to antagonize the men, especially the younger ones, the guards sneered and made dirty faces at them, throwing out insults now and again, challenging them to react in defense of their dignity but all remained quiet as they had been previously instructed upon their arrival. Logan stood at the back of one of the two lines. Averting his eyes from their evil stares, he kept his head down while dread slowly coursed through his veins. They entered, led by one guard in front and two more trailing behind the men.
Once inside, the men were greeted with a trustee mopping the filthy floor. Though it seemed a fortress on the outside, an inside perspective revealed a rundown building in desperate need of renovation. The walls were dingy and home to great many more creatures than the criminals. Free floating dust attacked their lungs while pungent smells bombarded their nostrils. The room echoed with the sounds of the current residents in their bunks coming from the adjacent wings. To their right were break rooms and restrooms for the staff and to their left was an office with a bench right outside the door. The office seemed to be in slightly better shape than the rest of the building. A tired man looking to be in his late sixties wearing a cheap suit that complimented his silver hair, exited the office to welcome them. It was obvious from the way the guards addressed him that he was the boss: the warden.
"You have all been deemed deviants by society's standards and have thus been sentenced here to be punished for your crimes. The rules are simple: obey all orders given by either the correctional officers or myself, any chaotic behavior will not be tolerated and will be punished accordingly. Those of you who adjust quickly and cause not trouble may be eligible for parole. Make no mistake the rights that were once guaranteed to you by the constitution were forfeited once you had been found guilty in the court of law. Here, I am God." The warden said this in an arrogant tone that suggested he held himself superior to all who darkened his office door. "Now, gentlemen, if you would please take these criminals to be searched and help them settle in their cells," he instructed the CO's.
Logan followed his fellow inmates down a corridor into a dingy waiting room where each man was un-cuffed and led through a metal detector after which they had to strip down for a full-body cavity search.
He heard one of the boys behind him nervously whispering, "I thought they outlawed this sort of search."
The boy was answered by another boy with a crazed gleam in his eye, "I don't think laws apply here."
The fear that had been brewing inside Logan's mind only grew with each second as he moved ahead in the line. A scream was heard in the distance making Logan's heart pound faster and faster. It was his turn. He stepped into the room. The CO on her left removed the chains that bound his wrists and Logan walked through the metal detector, all clear. Yeah, he knew.
"Strip down," another jailer ordered. Logan looked up blankly at him; he'd seen the inmates in front of him do the same, but his strength seemed to have already rushed out of his body.
"I –" he started, but was cut off by a guard.
"Are you fucking deaf?" the guard spat at him. Logan glanced at his name tag. Arnie Lund. The rotund man charged towards Logan, his fists clenching around Logan's clothes. Lund jerked him around as he yanked the clothes off him. The other CO's laughed in response taking pleasure in Logan's humiliation, although his reputation in this place was the last thing on his mind. Instead, he kept his eyes glued to the ground and focused on every stain that covered the cold tile floor. He could sense their eyes roaming his tense figure, waiting for him to retaliate. He wasn't going to, but he had the sense that they would pull something even without him moving a muscle.
Just because they could.
Before the situation could progress any further, the door suddenly opened. Another CO entered. "What the hell is going on here? This shouldn't take this long," the guard said observing the situation. His tag read Frank Hobson.
"Nothing," Lund said innocently though he still had his evil smirk on his face.
Frank eyed the guard closely. "Leave 'im alone Arnie. We have other people to search." Logan turned to face Frank who offered him an apologetic shrug: the first sign of humanity he had seen since he had boarded the bus. Relief swept over Logan from the avoidance of a beating of a lifetime. He quickly dressed and followed Frank to the A Wing to his cell.
Logan took his place at the back of the line just as Frank pulled out the handcuffs to keep him in place until they were in Gen Pop. "Hold on a minute; you're not supposed to be in here." Frank gestured to another CO to take care of the back end of the line as he guided Logan back out of the wing through a few hallways on the other side of the prison. "We got a visitor for you; then we have to put you in solitary until we figure out where to put you."
A/N: Hello! I have not completed this story yet but I am expecting it to be around 5-6 (fairly long) chapters. Let me know what you guys think about this excerpt of chapter 1 and if people seem to like it, I'll re-edit this chapter to make it longer so that I can finish this story with fewer chapters. Thank you for reading!