After ensuring that someone else was to be sitting at the Boy's Correctional desk during Brutal's absence, Brutal and I stormed off towards C Block. I had never seen Brutal so enraged as he was. Sweat was already beading across his broad forehead, and his head and neck had turned a purplish red. He clenched his fists and had set his teeth in a grimace as we made our way over to Percy's cell. Seeing the hulking 6'4" guard with such an expression was scary enough for me, his friend, and I was dying to see what the little shithead had to think about it.

When we reached the bottom of the stairs to the 230 block, Brutal raced up the stairs and stood in front of Percy's cell, with both hands on his hips. I quickly made my way beside him and gave him a sideways glance to attempt to figure out what he was planning on doing. Percy was lying on his cot facing the wall in a curled up position, so all we could see was his motionless back and backside sticking out over the mattress. I could see that Brutal was holding back as best as possible from opening up that cell and yanking Percy's ass out of there. We had to be good guards, and we had never just jerked an inmate out of his cell and beat him on suspicion that he had done something. We had to get a confession out of him, and I had no idea how we'd do it. I turned to Brutal and tapped his arm. Quietly I said to him that we ought to go downstairs and discuss what to do. Amazingly, holding back his obvious anger, he sighed and nodded.

We silently made our way to the C Block office, Brutal obviously having problems with his decision to discuss things before ripping Percy a new ass hole. Once we had sat down did he begin to talk.

"Now, Paul, I really believe you when you say you think he done it. I really don't see why we need to consi---"

I cut him off. I realized that now I had to be the voice of reason, which was very hard to be. All along I had wanted to beat Percy's brains out, and now Brutal was prepared to do that and I felt reservations about it. Besides, it was my fault to begin with.

"I've been wantin' to rip him apart for a while now, Brutal, just like you now feel. I just think that before we put him away that perhaps we should get him to confess, because we'd get in a world of trouble if his family found out he got nailed over a misunderstanding."

"Oh, I wasn't thinking of killin' him, if that's what you're thinking, Paul." He was obviously offended. "I can't believe you'd think I was capable of that. Killin' pris'ners with the electric chair is different than beating 'em to death. God, Paul."

I shook my head apologetically. "I'm sorry, that's not what I meant. I know you wouldn't do that. You're a very fair guard, Brutal, even though your nickname doesn't reflect that." I chuckled nervously. "Do you think we should try for a confession?"

"How?" Brutal crossed his massive arms.

"Well, we could try to be kind to him and offer him an appeal or something, which, I'm sorry to say, is an impossibility for me. Opinions?"

"I cannot and will not kiss that man's ass. I think we should instead scare him into submission. If he won't tell us he did it, then he'd better tell us who did it. He should know, supposedly bein' right there."

"You're right. The only way he'd listen on the green mile was when we threatened him. Even when he was nice, like during that time with Dell, he always had a hidden motive. He knew that he was gonna see Dell's nuts cook up close, and knew he was eventually gonna get that mouse of his. And he did; well, at least tried to with the mouse."

"I think we should put him in with Reddy. That'd work."

I gulped. Jim Reddy was a hulking black man of about 30, almost as tall as and with about the same bulk as John Coffey. He had been sent to Cold Mountain from a notorious maximum security prison where he had formed a sort of camaraderie with the guards there in exchange for a lesser sentence and a more comfortable prison, Cold Mountain. Because he was so intimidating, he didn't have to take shit off anybody, and knew this well before he was transferred to Cold Mountain. I had asked him earlier very briefly about the murder, and he said he honestly didn't know anything about it, cause he was still in his cell, and that was confirmed by Bill Dodge; he had been asleep, and his cell door had not yet been opened. I think anyone would have noticed a huge black man throwing a guard off a balcony, and so, it occurred to me that the truth was being told. I believed Reddy's story, and I knew that if he could get even more months cut, he would do me a favor. Although Reddy could have snapped the neck of any guard, he was smart, smart enough to make the right friends and right enemies. In Percy's case, making the little man squirm wasn't going to haunt him later on. Percy had no buddies, had no big gang to defend him against the brute. Even if he had, no one would dare go against Reddy.

Reddy had been arrested for an armed robbery of the Gulf National Bank in southern Louisiana, and had gotten away with a cool hundred grand. The problem was, it was hard for a man of his 6'5" stature and color to boot to hide from the law. Less than a week later he got nailed about fifty miles from the crime scene with his wife and kid, and almost the whole hundred grand still with him. He received an initial sentence of 15 years in Louisiana's most dangerous prison.

Reddy's cell was right next to Percy's cell, so it wouldn't be a problem shoving Percy in there with him. The question was what to tell Reddy to do. I had a sudden flashback of our 'kidnapping' of Percy, when we had ambushed him and put him in a straightjacket. He had thought that we were going to put him in with Wild Bill. At that time I actually got mad at him for thinking that we were capable of such cruelty, and now, we were considering something very similar, without the straightjacket involved, of course.

However, it was a different situation. Wild Bill would not listen to authority. He did whatever he wanted to, whenever he wanted to, and wouldn't have held back at killing whoever came in his cell. He had absolutely nothing to lose. He had raped and murdered two little girls, which proved him soulless. Reddy, on the other hand, had something to lose. He had a wife and child to support, who had moved nearer to Cold Mountain to visit him once a week. His armed robbery didn't result in any deaths. He had received reduced sentences at other prisons and would surely accept another deal with us. He'd do what we told him to, and stop when his job was done. He had done that before, countless times for countless guards. Kinda reminded me of John Coffey, really. Except that he had really committed a crime.

"Probably would work, Brutal," I said thoughtfully. "What do you propose we make him do to Percy?"

"I was thinking, makin' Percy drop his drawers would probably scare the shit out of him. He'd go to rape him, and I think Percy'd bawl like a stuck sheep at the thought of that. It's the only way to get anything out of him."

I nodded. "It's not like Percy's offerin' to tell us who did it; he's being stubborn and refusin' to say anything. I can't believe how incredibly stupid he truly is. The President was willing to turn down a damn good deal just so he could hear me ask Percy what happened. That means something."

"So, Paul, you ready to do this?" He stood up adamantly. "Cause I sure as hell am."

We crept up the stairs a bit more composed than before, not wanting to lose control of our emotions about the senseless murder that had taken place.

Soon Brutal and I were standing outside Percy's cell. Percy was in a bit of a different position than before, more straightened out, but he was still facing the wall. Brutal whipped out his nightstick and rapped it against the bars. I could see Percy flinched but he made no attempt to turn around. Brutal was enraged. "Wetmore, turn your ass around! Don't make me come in there!" I could hear his breathing quicken as Percy lay still on the cot.

I spoke up, wanting to give Percy one last chance to reveal what he knew about the killings before we went through with our threat.

"Percy," I said, hoping that the use of his first name might incite some trusting feelings towards me, in our version of the good cop-bad cop game. "You need to tell us what you know about the murder. Now, maybe you yourself didn't murder that guard, but there are quite a few inmates here who think that you know somethin'."

Percy flopped over, and immediately rose to his feet. He stood across from me, glared directly at me with hate in his eyes, and spit in my face.

As I wiped it off, holding myself back from attacking him, he began to speak in a taunting, cocky voice. I could see Brutal's blood pressure increasing, for the veins in his temple were throbbing and he was practically panting with exertion.

"You know what? I don't have to tell anyone anythin' bout what I know and what I don't know. You can kiss my ass. Think you can get to me with your little promises and bribes? Better think again, assholes. Didn't you hear what I tole you yesterday, boss? I ain't tellin' you a thing, no matter what you do. I tried to be nice but you been pushin' me to the limit." He leaned toward the bars dangerously. "Want me to break your other arm?" At that he laughed wickedly and walked over to his toilet. "Excuse me while I take a piss."

I backed away from the bars, not sure what to think of Percy's actions. Percy was truly evil. Either that or he was completely insane, sayin' those things while a huge, burly guard stood by his door with a nightstick in one hand and a .38 near the other. The time before when I had talked to him, he had at least been civil about it. Now it was all changed because he had acquired some kind of cockiness over breaking my arm and wasn't about to back down. I had been caught so offguard by his spitting on my face that I just stood there, feeling the remnants of his saliva on my hand, having not been able to rub it all off on my pants. As he turned to face the toilet, I glanced over at Brutal. He was looking down at Bill Dodge and two other guards on the first floor, who were obviously incredulous over what they had just heard, and by God, they had heard it all. If anything bad came of this, they could testify that they heard Percy threaten us and refuse to disclose information of a prison guard's murder. That truly meant something.

I could tell by the look on Brutal's face that he was ready to kill Percy. After a quick look from him, I stepped over in front of Reddy's cell and coaxed him to the bars with a finger. "Jim," I whispered. "I was wonderin' if you could do me and Brutal here a favor. If you do, we'll see to it that your sentence is reduced. Would you be interested?"

"I been listenin' to what you been sayin' to that inmate. Want me to do somethin' to him?"

I nodded, then leaned in closer to him, telling him very quietly what he was to do to Percy.

Brutal shouted angrily to the guard tower, "Open cell 234!" and Percy's cell door clanged open. He glanced over at me and mouthed 'are you ready' to which I nodded. Immediately he stomped into Percy's cell, nightstick in hand. I jogged over from Reddy's cell and pulled out my .38 caliber pistol as backup, in case things got out of hand. Hell, Percy had broken my arm; I couldn't take a chance again. Besides, I would never be able to forgive myself if Brutal got hurt... or worse.