*Next chapter… I have a reading number of two… plus me.*
Chapter Six: Lockdown
"Eduard Delacroix, electricity shall now be passed through your body until you are dead, in accordance with state law. May God have mercy on your soul." Percy stepped away from Old Sparky where Del sat, sweat mixed with brine from the sponge dripping down his face. Looking at him, Percy unconsciously fingered his throat, as if his own escape from death was so fresh in his mind that he could still feel the crush of the steel against his neck. "Roll on two."
Van Hay flipped the switch, and the surge went straight through Delacroix. The little Cajun bucked forwards, his head flipping back. I think I saw Percy lock his jaw and half-close his eyes, trying to block the view of the dying man.
Don't cry, I willed him. Please Percy, don't start crying in front of everyone, or I might just do it too.
Soon, I was going to have to stop. I'd seen too many men die in that electric chair, seen too many of them cower in front of Old Sparky. I'd stay for John Coffey, and then I'd be out. I owed it to him to make sure that he went out easily, smoothly. Even if he had killed the little girls- oh, I didn't know.
Van Hay killed the juice, and the doctor laid his stethoscope on Del's chest and nodded. Delacroix was dead.
Mr. Jingles was an orphan. What were we really going to do with him? There was no Mouseville in his future. I could take him, or Brutal, or even Percy- yes. Percy. Of all of us, Percy NEEDED Mr. Jingles the most. Brutal might buck, but I'd persist, and so would Dean, most likely. I liked the idea of Percy having Mr. Jingles, and that meant that he would get him. If he wanted him.
"Percy," I said quietly, "what are we going to do with Mr. Jingles? John has him for now, but he can't keep him forever." I kept my voice neutral, as if I hadn't already decided.
Percy bit his lower lip. "I'll take him. I had a mouse- once."
"You've done well, you know." We were alone in the gurney, Dean, Brutal, and Harry had yet to come in with Del's body.
"I hoped so. But Brutal still doesn't like me."
"No," I agreed, "but he doesn't hate you anymore, either. And that's a start, you know. The others like you now. Dean does, certainly, he's so quick to forgive that-"
They all burst in, guns drawn, and faces as white as paper.
"Lockdown," Brutal said crisply. "Wharton got out. Toot slipped him a bobby pin and he picked the lock during Del's execution."
If the three of them looked nervous, it was nothing compared to how Percy looked. I could see him remembering all of it, and I knew beyond knowing that he could still feel that cold water down his back. He drew his gun.
"Where could he be?"
"He's still in here- along with thirty witnesses, us, Van Hay, and the Warden."
"Ask John where he is," I said through my shakes. "He'll know."
Harry looked confused. "Paul, what-?"
"Don't ask, just go ask him where Wharton is right now. Coffey will be able to tell you, just trust me on this one, okay?"
Dean nodded and took off like a shot, Harry following closely behind him, face still confused but willing to go, willing to ask. If only I hadn't sent him. Brutal might have been able to do it, might have been able to make it out, but I had sent Harry, who had been puzzled but oh-so- loyal and ready to face the dangers.
It was the last time I ever saw Harry Terwilliger alive.
The three of us scouted out the rest of the rooms and then joined Harry and Dean in time to hear Dean scream and fire.
I still don't know how Wharton got that knife- probably from the kitchens- or how he was able to sneak up on a seasoned guard like Harry, but he did it, and he sliced Harry's neck from ear to ear. Dean had been trying to talk to Coffey, who didn't understand what he was trying to ask him, and Harry was standing guard, facing away from them. Wild Bill came up from the side, silent like a cat, and plunged the knife in the side of his neck, tore it out, and that's when he sliced it.
Dean spun around and gave Wharton a bullet in the heart as Harry Terwilliger lay on the floor, dying slowly.
"John, help him!" I looked. It was Brutal. "Help him, please, or he's going to die!"
Coffey shook his head, his big brown eyes sad. "It be too late. He dead, boss. I can't take it back anymore. He gone, boss Percy, sir."
"No!" Percy insisted, like it was going to do any good to argue with John. "You saved me, why not him? Why not Harry?"
"He gone," John said. "I sorry, but he gone."
I walked to the doorway, arms stiff and my eyes starting to starting to water. I called wearily into the room where Hal Moores stood, trying to calm the frightened witnesses.
"Hal," I called. "Hal, you can tell them it's all right now. It's all right. Wharton's dead."
There was an excited murmur, but Hal knew me better than that. He just looked at me until I said what I had to say next.
"And so is Harry."
Chapter Six: Lockdown
"Eduard Delacroix, electricity shall now be passed through your body until you are dead, in accordance with state law. May God have mercy on your soul." Percy stepped away from Old Sparky where Del sat, sweat mixed with brine from the sponge dripping down his face. Looking at him, Percy unconsciously fingered his throat, as if his own escape from death was so fresh in his mind that he could still feel the crush of the steel against his neck. "Roll on two."
Van Hay flipped the switch, and the surge went straight through Delacroix. The little Cajun bucked forwards, his head flipping back. I think I saw Percy lock his jaw and half-close his eyes, trying to block the view of the dying man.
Don't cry, I willed him. Please Percy, don't start crying in front of everyone, or I might just do it too.
Soon, I was going to have to stop. I'd seen too many men die in that electric chair, seen too many of them cower in front of Old Sparky. I'd stay for John Coffey, and then I'd be out. I owed it to him to make sure that he went out easily, smoothly. Even if he had killed the little girls- oh, I didn't know.
Van Hay killed the juice, and the doctor laid his stethoscope on Del's chest and nodded. Delacroix was dead.
Mr. Jingles was an orphan. What were we really going to do with him? There was no Mouseville in his future. I could take him, or Brutal, or even Percy- yes. Percy. Of all of us, Percy NEEDED Mr. Jingles the most. Brutal might buck, but I'd persist, and so would Dean, most likely. I liked the idea of Percy having Mr. Jingles, and that meant that he would get him. If he wanted him.
"Percy," I said quietly, "what are we going to do with Mr. Jingles? John has him for now, but he can't keep him forever." I kept my voice neutral, as if I hadn't already decided.
Percy bit his lower lip. "I'll take him. I had a mouse- once."
"You've done well, you know." We were alone in the gurney, Dean, Brutal, and Harry had yet to come in with Del's body.
"I hoped so. But Brutal still doesn't like me."
"No," I agreed, "but he doesn't hate you anymore, either. And that's a start, you know. The others like you now. Dean does, certainly, he's so quick to forgive that-"
They all burst in, guns drawn, and faces as white as paper.
"Lockdown," Brutal said crisply. "Wharton got out. Toot slipped him a bobby pin and he picked the lock during Del's execution."
If the three of them looked nervous, it was nothing compared to how Percy looked. I could see him remembering all of it, and I knew beyond knowing that he could still feel that cold water down his back. He drew his gun.
"Where could he be?"
"He's still in here- along with thirty witnesses, us, Van Hay, and the Warden."
"Ask John where he is," I said through my shakes. "He'll know."
Harry looked confused. "Paul, what-?"
"Don't ask, just go ask him where Wharton is right now. Coffey will be able to tell you, just trust me on this one, okay?"
Dean nodded and took off like a shot, Harry following closely behind him, face still confused but willing to go, willing to ask. If only I hadn't sent him. Brutal might have been able to do it, might have been able to make it out, but I had sent Harry, who had been puzzled but oh-so- loyal and ready to face the dangers.
It was the last time I ever saw Harry Terwilliger alive.
The three of us scouted out the rest of the rooms and then joined Harry and Dean in time to hear Dean scream and fire.
I still don't know how Wharton got that knife- probably from the kitchens- or how he was able to sneak up on a seasoned guard like Harry, but he did it, and he sliced Harry's neck from ear to ear. Dean had been trying to talk to Coffey, who didn't understand what he was trying to ask him, and Harry was standing guard, facing away from them. Wild Bill came up from the side, silent like a cat, and plunged the knife in the side of his neck, tore it out, and that's when he sliced it.
Dean spun around and gave Wharton a bullet in the heart as Harry Terwilliger lay on the floor, dying slowly.
"John, help him!" I looked. It was Brutal. "Help him, please, or he's going to die!"
Coffey shook his head, his big brown eyes sad. "It be too late. He dead, boss. I can't take it back anymore. He gone, boss Percy, sir."
"No!" Percy insisted, like it was going to do any good to argue with John. "You saved me, why not him? Why not Harry?"
"He gone," John said. "I sorry, but he gone."
I walked to the doorway, arms stiff and my eyes starting to starting to water. I called wearily into the room where Hal Moores stood, trying to calm the frightened witnesses.
"Hal," I called. "Hal, you can tell them it's all right now. It's all right. Wharton's dead."
There was an excited murmur, but Hal knew me better than that. He just looked at me until I said what I had to say next.
"And so is Harry."