Part 4
"Oh what a pitiful confession!" Rumba's deep voice cut across Blake's higher pitched one.
Suddenly the cell was vastly overcrowded as the Black Coyotes filed dutifully into it behind their leader. Both Peck and Blake stepped backwards away from the over-muscled specimens bearing down on them. Unfortunately there was only so far the two of them could move until they were backed up against the hard granite rock of the outer cell wall.
"What, am I having a party or something?" Peck muttered.
"Blake, get your pretty little white ass out of here. We'll see to you later!" Rumba spat.
"I ain't going," Robby replied bravely. "I ain't leaving Peck with you!"
Rumba turned his attention from Peck to face the kid. "Oh it's gonna be so fine when I finally get to crush you little boy, when I get that smart mouth to beg me, when I show you what trash you are and how you were born to be my bitch!"
"That's enough!" Peck stood up and moved to stand between the two glowering men. "Go Robby – there's nothing you can do here."
"But…" Blake began to argue.
"Go," Peck responded firmly. "The gentlemen just want to talk to me, isn't that right, Rumba?"
Rumba cracked a broad grin, his white teeth beaming brightly in his dark face. "Of course, talk and then some!"
Blake sighed. "If you…"
"Enough, Robby, go!" Peck ordered. With a sniff and a last look over his shoulder Blake reluctantly left the cell.
Peck sighed. "Well gentlemen, what can I do for you? I'm afraid I can't offer you martini – I'm still waiting for my order."
"Very funny, Peck!" Rumba spat as Leroy moved forward, clutched hold of Peck by the collar of his shirt, and used his motion to propel them both backwards until Peck's head hit the hard cell wall with a dull thud. Peck groaned as stars leapt into his vision.
"You're real smooth, Peck!" Rumba spat. "But nobody puts me in a hospital without paying for it." He was standing right next to Leroy and as he spoke each word the other Coyote banged Peck's head into the wall.
"Oh, that's right," Peck squeaked through the constriction of his windpipe by the massive hand and the growing fuzziness of his vision. "Jeez I wanted to apologise. I just don't know what came over me with that mop – don't know my own strength, I guess! How are you feeling, Rumba?"
"Sore, but not as sore as you're gonna be!" Rumba promised. He turned to the rest of his men. "Wreck the place boys!"
Peck stood pinned to the wall, fighting for each breath as the Black Coyotes tore the contents of the cell apart. When they were done Rumba turned back to him, a superior smile across his big lips. "You really upset me, Peck, I thought you were clever. I thought you understood your place in this world. You dissed me real bad. You gonna pay."
His fist was hard and fast and straight into Peck's gut as Leroy stepped slightly to the side without releasing his grip. The breath groaned out of Peck as he sagged forward.
"Look, can't we talk about this, guys!" he tried lifting his head back up weakly.
Rumba's smile was evil. "Got no time to talk, Peck. You see I just found out the warden is gonna confirm your parole. You're gonna be out of here and that makes me sad cos I don't want you leaving until you understand what pain you caused me. Wouldn't look good on the Brotherhood if I were to let you get away, people might think we was going soft, people might try the same thing and I don't want no more mops in my belly!"
"I'll make a deal with you then. I won't tell a soul, my lips are sealed, honest Rumba there's no need for…" A second blow to the same place stopped Peck and his sentence dissolved into a moan of pain.
"There's a need, Peck! Don't play dumb with me; you know exactly how it works, just like I do! Get him!"
The Black Coyotes fell on Peck then in a flurry of kicks and punches. Leroy held him up to be beaten for a while and then let him go, so Peck fell to the floor as the beating continued. He curled up into as small a ball as possible, his hands protecting his head and resolved to simply endure. In his head Hannibal's voice was firm. "Hold on, Lieutenant, hold on!"
Eventually it was over and Rumba awkwardly bent down, his hand gingerly resting on the recently wound from his operation to remove his ruptured spleen in his belly. "That's just for starters, Peck. My Brothers are everywhere and you can get away from me, but you can't get away from the Black Coyotes! We will have you, you won't know when and you won't know where but we will hunt you down; your life ain't worth shit; you are gonna die! People have to know they cannot stand against us! Our time is coming!" With that he stalked out of the cell with his men, leaving the beaten figure still curled on the floor, panting painfully.
"Melodramatic bastard!" Peck groaned faintly.
"You OK?" Robby Blake had kept a watchful eye out and as soon as he saw the Black Coyotes leave Peck's cell, he returned. He bent down to offer his hand to Peck who groaned weakly but accepted it and used it to lever himself up. He struggled forward to slump on to his bed, his left hand clutching at his stomach.
"To tell the truth, I have felt better," he muttered his head slouching forwards to be held up by his right hand.
"You wanna go to the infirmary?" Robby asked. Peck shook his head, trying to ignore the further pain it brought him. "What did they want?" Blake asked.
"They came to tell me I got my parole – I'm leaving day after tomorrow, I guess."
Blake rolled his eyes. "How nice of them to think of you when they came by such information." He moved to the sink, wet a cloth and passed it to Peck who wiped his face with it.
"Yeah, they just couldn't wait to rush over here and tell me," Peck moaned. "And with a promise that they aren't going to forget me either, too. Apparently they have friends outside able to pass on their best wishes whenever they need to."
"How touching," Blake mused.
Peck sighed. "I seem to have upset them," he said. "Can't imagine how!" Slowly he eased his legs up on to the bed and turned around to lie down. "I think I just need to rest," he said weakly.
Robby nodded and turned to leave. "Sure, but if you need anything, let me know."
"Robby," Peck called after him. "Look after yourself – I think they're pretty pissed at you too!"
Blake smiled. "They gotta catch me first! And it won't be long until I'm following you out of here too. I got a Parole Board at the end of the month."
"Don't screw it up," Peck breathed. He wanted to say more, to caution the kid further but an overwhelming wave of exhaustion washed through him. He knew his faculties were closing down and he could do nothing but give in to oblivion.
Folsom State Prison is California's second oldest prison; it primarily houses Level II and Level III inmates. Around the prison a walled perimeter encompasses five general population cell blocks and an Administrative Segregation Unit. This portion of the prison includes one of the state's best-known prison industries, the license plate factory. The prison's location was selected due to an unlimited amount of native stone which was used to build it initially. Also the American River offered ample water and formed a natural boundary for the prison. As one of the nation's first maximum prisons, Folsom received its first forty four inmates on July 26, 1880. They were transferred by boat and train from San Quentin.
Murdock had found out this information one day he had come to visit Peck. He had brought with him Mo and her two boys and as the regulations stated that an inmate could only receive three visitors at any one time, Murdock had allowed the others to go in first while he visited the Folsom Museum located near the entrance of the prison. Run by volunteers, the museum contained documents and artefacts from throughout Folsom's long and colourful history and the pilot found it both interesting and horrifying. Folsom State Prison gained the reputation of being violent and bloody in its early days. Prior to the completion of its granite wall in the 1920s, the prison witnessed numerous escapes; the first one occurring in 1880. The prisoners' attempts to escape had been desperate and frequent and many had not survived their frantic flight for freedom.
Murdock felt a shudder freeze along his spine when he learnt of such history. He knew Face could look after himself but still he didn't want him anywhere near a place that echoed with the ghosts of so many lost souls – Face had enough baggage of his own!
Murdock remembered the stories now as he pulled into the parking lot and parked at the far left-hand side as directed. Today was the day that Folsom State Prison could be assigned to the back of his mind, along with all the other places he had visited in his life that he had no intention of visiting again. This was the last time he would make the drive up to Sacramento, the last time he would pull into the lot, make his way to the gates, allow himself to be searched by the sweaty but polite guards, and enter the institution.
Because today was the day that his Faceyman was coming out!
He allowed himself a contented whistle as he made his way to the gates. He didn't mind waiting in the stifling outer office; he knew bureaucratic formalities always took time but the wait did serve to quicken his heart and kindle his excitement so that when Peck finally exited through the door, an almost bashful look on his fine features and small bag stuffed under his arm, the pilot let out a whoop of pure exhilaration.
"Faceyman!" he cried. "Where you been all my life?" As he drew close he noted the swelling and bruises on Peck's face. "Been fighting again?"
Peck smiled and pointedly ignored the question. "Hi, Murdock. Thanks for coming!"
"Give me that!" Murdock ordered moving in close to relieve Peck of his carryall. As he did so he whispered in the other man's ear. "I haven't yet – but I aim too as soon as I can get my hands on your delectable butt!"
Peck let out a high pitched chuckle but then his features hardened. "Come on; let's get out of here before they change their minds!" He threw a slightly nervous glance over his shoulder.
"That a possibility?" Murdock asked as he nodded to the guards and moved to open the door.
"You never know." Peck hesitated on the verge of the door, his features suddenly lacking in their normal confidence. "Hell of a big world out there."
Murdock threw a supportive arm around the others shoulder. "You bet," he encouraged. "And it's waiting for us to explore together! How'd your psyche assessment go?" he asked trying to distract his friend as they finally moved forward.
Peck gulped. "OK," he said, allowing himself to be eased gently forward while secretly revelling in the other man's touch.
"What did he say?"
"I think the words she used were 'arrogant, conceited neandethal'
and 'sexist prick'!"
"She?" Murdock stopped and regarded the other man. "That's not the normal response you get from the fairer sex, Face!"
Peck snorted. "No, I must be losing my touch!" he answered with a smile that was so enigmatically stunning that it caused Murdock's heart to flip in his chest. "You didn't bring the Viper?" Peck changed the subject as he realised which car they were making their way to.
Murdock drew in a deep breath and snorted it out nosily. "You are something else!" he muttered. Then deciding not to pursue his enquiries at the current time he smiled. "No, left her in the garage, safe and sound for you to play with when you get home."
Peck nodded and opened the door to the conservative station wagon Murdock had brought. He settled himself into the passenger seat and waited while Murdock dumped the bag into the trunk and then started it up.
After a few minutes travelling, Peck cleared his throat. "I know I haven't been out in a while, Murdock," he said. "But I'm sure my sense of direction isn't shot. Aren't we going the wrong way? Isn't this east?"
Murdock rolled his eyes. "Sure is!"
"But LA is the other way!"
"Uh-huh!"
Peck ran his hand through his hair. "I got to ring my Parole Officer when I get home, Murdock! I haven't got time for any of your games."
The pilot pouted. "Sure you have, Face. You've had 120 days away from my games – reckon you owe me some."
"But…"
"No," Murdock's voice was hard as the granite wall they had just driven away from. "We got plenty of time. You don't have to phone in until tomorrow morning – I checked. And don't be getting so paranoid about this parole gig – I'll keep you right. Besides when I get you home everyone is gonna be there, and I wanted you for myself, just for a while." He sniffed. "Lake Tahoe is nice this time of year."
"Lake Tahoe!" Peck's eyes were wide as Murdock fluttered his at him. But then the conman nodded his head slowly and his face broke into a wide grin. "Oh, I get it," he breathed. "Never knew you were into water sports though." He relaxed back into his seat.
"That depends of your definition of water sport, does it not?" Murdock leered.
Peck let out a chuckle in response and Murdock turned to look at him. "I missed that, Face," he said softly. "I missed you laughing so very much!"
TBC
