Happy Mother's Day, guys! This chapter is your present from me (Even though I'm 99% sure no mothers read this. :/)
Chapter 13: Prison
After a long ride by car, then by ship, I was finally yanked out and led into the prison at gunpoint. They made me change my clothes into a blue outfit (Think of Sal's) with the numbers 23890 printed on a tag on my chest. After that, the guards still led me into my cell in block C. They took my handcuffs off and shoved me in, then the cold iron bars were shut before I knew what was going on.
"You're gonna have a fun time here," I heard one of the guards chuckle.
I didn't sleep much that night, my thoughts constantly drifted to my old friends. I just hope they are OK. Did they hate me for what I did? Did they even exist in this universe? Would I spend the rest of my life in a 1930s maximum security prison? I was haunted by these questions, and the thunderstorm brewing outside wasn't making anything easier. I sighed, this bed was uncomfortable.
"Think of the positives, think of the positives," I muttered quietly to myself. Let's see, what are the positives of jail? Well, I get a free room, free meals, no zombies to kill. I guess there are things worse than being stuck here. Hey, it gives me time to think, that's another positive.
After several hours of thinking to myself, I finally fell asleep on my hard bed. I dreamed a satisfying dream where I got my revenge on Richtofen, sucking his soul out of Sam's body with a weird device, and then putting Sam back in her body. After that, the rest of us left the moon and began to rebuild humanity. How I wish this dream was real, but I have to accept reality. I lost, it's too late to go back and change things now.
I awoke in the morning for breakfast. I was put in a long line with several guards watching us. Once I arrived in the cafeteria, my tray was filled with slop that I guess could pass as food. Was that yellow mush scrambled eggs? Yuck!
I looked around for a table. I was one of the last prisoners to get food, so most of the tables were full, but I did spot a table with a single man sitting at it, he looked lonely, maybe I'd join him.
I sat down next to the man, who looked at me with a blank face. He had a weird hat on, with a bald head still obvious, like mine. He had stubble on his lower face, was somewhat short, wore a button-up dark blue shirt, and khaki pants.
"Hi," I said, breaking the silence.
"Uh, hey."
"What are you in here for?"
"I was part of a two-man heist in LA, but it turns out my partner secretly worked for the cops and snitched on me. I've been here 'bout eight months, you?"
"I'm new, killed a cop."
"Hm, not bad. But listen, kid, don't think you're all tough just because you killed one cop. I know a man by the name of Billy who's killed 115 men before he finally was arrested."
"How many times do I gotta tell you, Al, it was 116," We looked up and saw a man dump his tray in trash, then he sat opposite of us. He looked at me with angry eyes. He was probably in his mid-20s.
"So you're the new guy, huh? The name's Billy Handsome, at least that's what I'm known by the mob. Don't get any funny ideas, 23890, I'm not the guy you want to fuck with," And with that, he left as quickly as he came.
I choked down a bite of my eggs. "What's his problem?" I asked.
"Ignore 'em, he's just Sal's puppet."
"Sal?" I asked.
"Oh, yeah. Stupid me, I forgot to tell you. Sal is the local mob boss here, I worked for him before I was put in the slammer. I was their money handler, they called me The Weasal. My real names Albert, Albert Arlington," He held out his hand, and I shook it.
"My name's Austin Woodard," I shook the mobsters hand. "Is their anyone else here that works for Sal?"
Al pointed a finger at a man in his late 20s, with greasy hair slicked back, who was engaged in a friendly game of cards with Billy. "That guy over there's Michael O'Leary, but everyone calls him by his nickname, Finn. He's in here for gambling fraud. His wife is an actress and a total sexpot, but she also was the one who landed him in here."
"So, Sal has alot of men in the jails," I said.
Arlington chuckled. "Sal himself is in here, the fuzz finally raided his hideout and captured him," He pointed to a slick 40-year-old who glared at Arlington, then at me.
"I take it they don't like you very much."
He shook his head and frowned. "Nope, I was dishonest even with them. I don't have many friends, Austin."
"I'm your friend."
He smiled. "Thanks," He took a bite of eggs. "Yuck, this shit isn't even fit for hogs to eat, you know what I'm sayin'?"
"Trust me, not even the flies would bother to eat this if they didn't have to," I laughed, and then he did.
"Ya know, Austin, you're alright," He grinned, then went to dump his tray. When he came back, there was a serious look in his eye. He slapped a piece of paper down at me. I glanced it over, it was a drawing of a plane.
"Behold, Icarus," He smiled. "I'm gonna bust out using this with the other 3, and we could use a fifth man, you in?"
I smirked. "You can count on it, Al."