Chapter 3
June 14th 1993
Stepping into the blinding sun, the heat hit them...
Sweeping across the dirt and rapidly climbing their bodies, the dust lingered in the air and began to choke, the thick mixture sucked inwards as the group of women struggled, as one, for breath. Coming to a stop, the ground crunching beneath them, one or two allowed their bags to drop to the floor, energy a scarce commodity as each woman looked at each other before examining their immediate surroundings. The courtyard was larger than they imagined, the mixture of tarmac and dirt beneath their feet lending it a rustic look as the chain link fence snaked its way around the perimeter, the barb wire curling, looping its way along the top of the fence, a stark warning to the vast population of Logan Correctional Centre that there was indeed, no escape. Turning their heads, the sweat beginning to bead on their foreheads as the group of women lifted their hands, as one, and shielded their eyes, the sun too strong as they fought off the blinding light, each of them turning to examine the noise in the distance, the screeching of metal vibrating through the air as the mesh gate was forced slowly open, the guard nonchalantly waving the bus through, the heavy, silver vehicle gleaming in the noonday sun as it slowly rolled around the courtyard, gradually coming to a gentle halt, the hiss from the brakes making the small group flinch as the driver threw the lever and the door swung lazily open. Neither of the women moved, the fumes from the diesel driven vehicle beginning to lend the air around them a thick, industrial smell as the engine noisily ticked over. Sure enough, the sound of screeching once more grated as the guards hauled the gate closed, night sticks and side arms evident as they casually went about their business, nothing left to chance, despite the all female population. As the sunlight rolled on overhead, the breeze suddenly picked up and offered a brief respite, the cooling wave of fresh air as welcome as an arctic blast as it fluttered through, before disappearing quickly and allowing the searing temperatures to once again grip the congregation of female inmates. Despite the rather happy undertones of the afternoon, a strong sense of anxiety and anticipation filled the air, Tiffany finding the tension unbearable as the sickness gently crept over her body and settled in the pit of her stomach, the prison guard talking to the driver quickly, asking him to kill the engine before turning and motioning for the group to stand straight, eyes dead ahead as the door behind the women slowly opened with a sickening click.
Show time...
One Day Earlier...
The alarm buzzed through the corridor as the queue slowly started to move, the doors up ahead opening and allowing the daylight to filter through, the shadows dancing along the linoleum floor as inmates headed outside and scattered, each heading to different locations and amenities on offer as they sought to enjoy a rare hour to themselves. The plethora of orange jumpsuits mingled briefly as they passed one another by, no pleasantries, just simple grunts and twisting of the bodies as the sea of women parted, the concrete jungle beyond the gloomy corridors almost disappearing beneath the all female population of Logan Correctional Centre. As various cliques came together, as individuals head towards the exercise equipment on offer, a lone figure emerged from the darkness of the corridor and very slowly stepped forward, the sunlight causing her eyes distress as she gritted her teeth and narrowed her eyes, her forearm immediately flying up to offer some kind of protection. The blonde hair, held up scruffily by the only tattered bandana she had as her slender figure rested beneath the bright orange jump suit dispensed to every inmate upon entry to the facility. Feeling the heat from the glaring sun, Tiffany began to walk, the sunlight spread evenly over the yard as she looked for something to do, somewhere to sit, ideally out of the way and on her own. She'd survived this long with the minimum of friends, she was damned if she would start looking to make small talk now. As she walked, her sneakers scraping slightly along the concrete, she felt an arm suddenly swing around her neck, the shock causing her to jump as she twisted her neck, the surprise almost giving her a heart attack.
"Got ya!" The brunette yelled, the giddiness evident in her high pitch shriek as she grabbed Tiffany and pulled her near, giving her a hug strong enough to break her neck.
"For fucks sake Amy!" Tiffany gasped, a few of her fellow custodians turning to see what the noise was.
"What's up Tiff?" Amy asked, her gaunt figure and pale skin wrinkling as she smiled, the hideous row of cracked and blackened teeth proudly displayed as she bellowed with laughter. If there was an advert for the dangers of drug abuse, then Amy Kroeger was definitely it. Twenty two years old and hooked on meth-amphetamines since the age of eleven, life had not been kind to Amy. A procession of step-fathers and 'uncles' passing through the multitude of homes, each one had managed to somehow inflict a touch more pain with every visit, steadily stripping away at the innocence of youth as they each, in turn, added their own personal characteristic to the monster secretly looming beneath. The cheery disposition over time giving way to a rebellion including alcohol and substance abuse, Amy had turned to prostitution by age fifteen and committed her first murder by the time of her seventeenth birthday. Now serving life imprisonment for her part in what the media had labelled 'The Furnace Furore', Amy had settled in nicely among the 160 strong population since her incarceration two years previous. Rumour had it the police had lain in wait, an anonymous tip off implicating her in the ongoing disappearance of middle aged men around the South Chicago/Calumet Park area. The undercover cop, wired and followed by a series of unmarked Chicago PD cars, had managed to lead his colleagues to the recently abandoned South Works Steel Mill, the army of officers bursting in, guns raised, but too late, their fellow officer laying a pool of his own blood as Amy laughed hysterically before feigning surrender and leaping at an arresting officer and sinking her teeth in, ripping into the flesh and severing his ear from the side of his head. Lying open beside the murder scene, the furnace had been reportedly filled with the remains of over twenty two men, the bones of Amy's victims the only thing to remain after the brutal murder and robbery of the corpses left behind. Now as she stood before Tiffany, laughing, joking and hugging her tight, the only thing Tiffany felt was pity. The deepest sympathy for the person Amy Kroeger could have been, instead of the burnt out junkie now standing before her.
"I wondered where you'd gotten to." Tiffany finally responded, pushing Amy's arm away. "Haven't seen you all day."
"Yeah well..." Amy's eyes widened as her pupils shrunk rapidly, a smirk crossing her lips. "They had me doing shit in the kitchens again... Supervised obviously. I dunno what the fuck they think I'm gonna do right?"
"Better safe than sorry I guess." Tiff backed off a touch, she could relax in the presence of a cold blooded killer, she fell in love with one at the end of the day, but she hated when Amy freaked out on her. During the two and a half years they'd been cell mates, they'd had a couple of run ins, but Tiffany knew the signs now and when to back off. She could handle herself, but the drugs had ravaged Amy's brain and rendered her with some kind of gargantuan temper, with strength to match. When Amy lost it, you better be somewhere else. As Tiff found out early on.
"You have to come with me!" Amy suddenly reached for Tiffany's wrist, clamping her palm around the skin and beginning to drag her along, the pace picking up as Tiff felt the dust kicking up beneath her feet.
"What the hell Amy?" She asked in shock. "Where?"
"Just come with me!" Amy turned and smiled, the duo weaving their way in and out of the crowd of fellow inmates as the sun cascaded over the walls of the courtyard and hovered overhead, the heat sucking the moisture from the air as Tiffany struggled to catch her breath. As the crowd parted, people looked on, the Brockson sisters lifting the weights as usual, flanked by their entourage of underlings as they examined the scenes around them with little interest, guards patrolled the perimeter, shades covering their eyes, shotguns clamped across their chests as they steadily walked, casting an eye over the population and waiting, expecting, the next sign of trouble. Finally reaching the other side of the courtyard, Tiffany rolled her eyes, the small group of Caribbean women sat in the shade, the upturned crates flexing heavily under the strenuous conditions forced upon them as they laughed and relaxed, their raucous laughter stopping as they found themselves in the presence of Tiffany Valentine and Amy Kroeger. The air fell silent as the women examined the newcomers, anticipation thickening as they held their breath and waited. Amy was the first to speak, as Tiffany crossed her arms and stood slightly behind her. Projecting her voice towards the head of the group, Jeanie Robertson, Amy spoke with enthusiasm that had no place in prison, the sugar coated tones oozing with honey as she smiled and clasped her hands together in prayer.
"Jeanie..." She began, "How are you girls doing?"
The remaining four women directed their attention from Amy and towards Jeanie, collectively holding their breath as the head of the group opened her mouth and responded in a calm and friendly manner. Fifty four years old, weighing in at just short of 280lbs and with a reputation for taking no shit, Jeanie Robertson wasn't feared... She was 'respected' among the population of Logan Correctional Centre.
"Amy my dear." Jeanie smiled through a set of pearly white teeth as the smile wrinkled her face. "To what do we owe the pleasure my child?"
"I know you don't do this for just anybody." Amy started skipping on the spot, from one foot to the other. Tiffany's eyes fell to the floor in disbelief. "But could you do a reading?"
"Oh please..." Tiffany muttered under her breath as she threw head back and closed her eyes, the sunlight burning through her eyelids.
"I see..." Jeanie replied as she slapped her palms on her knees and surveyed the reaction of her friends. "For you?"
"No, no, no, nooooo..." Amy laughed, "For Tiffany!"
"What?" Tiffany lowered her head and fixed Amy with a deathly stare.
"Oh come on it'll be fun." Amy insisted as she grabbed her arm once more and pulled Tiffany to her side.
"You don't believe in such rubbish do you Tiffany..." Jeanie allowed a curious look to cross her face as she measured Tiffany's reaction.
"Not especially..." Tiffany began.
"Then where is the harm?" Jeanie interrupted, her thick Jamaican accent cutting the air like a knife.
"Let's just say I grew out of magic and voodoo dolls a long time ago." Tiff answered wryly.
"Oh come oooooon." Amy pleaded with her, "You might not get another chance. She's supposed to be really good!"
"Will it shut you the hell up?" Tiffany asked, pissed off, more so as every second passed.
"Yes." Amy replied with a grin, Tiffany pulling up a crate and flipping it upside down, taking a seat opposite Jeanie, eyes on the pair of them as a small crowd began to build.
"Please..." Jeanie held out her hands and gestured to Tiffany, raising her hands and feeling the warm, soft touch of Logan Correctional Centre's resident palm reader.
"Will this take long?" Tiffany asked, Jeanie looking up and laughing.
"What's the rush? You got somewhere else to be?" She asked, the odd snigger ejected from the crowd.
"Well actually..." Amy started.
"Shut up Amy!" Tiffany interrupted, cutting her off.
"Jeeze," Amy rolled her eyes. "So-rry..."
"Let me see." Jeanie turned Tiffany's hand over and over, her brow furrowing as she pursed her lips together and studied intently. "Oh my..."
"What?" Tiffany asked, the tiniest of interest in her tone. "What is it?"
"Well..." Jeanie raised her eyebrows and looked up from Tiffany's hand before returning her gaze, shaking her head slightly. "I see trouble. Lots of trouble."
"No shit." Tiffany smirked. "You think we're all here because we behaved ourselves on the outside?"
The small gathering of people rippled with, laughter, the odd passer by stopping and checking out the drama unfolding deep in the centre of the crowd.
"There is a man..." Jeanie continued, ignoring the muffled amusement, raising her free hand and calming the surrounding people.
"Isn't there always?" Tiffany asked as she leant forward, her hair softly falling in front of her eyes as she lifted her other hand and cradled her chin, a dry smile growing across her pale lips.
"You'd be amazed." Jeanie mumbled as she carried on.
Suddenly, over Tiffany's shoulder, she felt a hand, Amy's face appearing beside hers as she giggled and threw her arm around Tiffany's neck, pulling her tight, their cheeks touching.
"Give her a chance Valentine." She chuckled, her eyes never leaving Jeanie, concentration etched in her face as she thoroughly examined Tiffany's palm. "Trust me!"
Tiffany let her head return to face forward, leaning back a touch as a quietness fell over the congregation of people now stood, the silence deafening. Suddenly, out of the blue, Jeanie raised her hand, index finger extended as she softly spoke, Tiffany straining her ears to pick up the words.
"This man..." She started, blinking her eyes and giving her head a little shake. "... This man is not normal..."
"Oh really?" Tiffany pulled her hand away, Jeanie reacting quickly and pulling it back, her grip strong as a vice.
"Yes..." Jeanie nodded, her finger running around Tiffany's hand, the pattern repeated time and again, fascination taking over as her eyes widened. "There is a road. A long trip. A journey!"
"Jesus!" Amy gasped, her breath on Tiff's ear as she spoke. "Fuck me that's freaky... Right?"
"How so?" Jeanie looked up, Tiffany remaining silent.
"She gets out tomorrow!" Excitement laced Amy's words. "How did you know...?"
"Everybody knows..." Tiffany mumbled. "This is a crock!"
Whether she chose to ignore Tiffany or not was unclear, Jeanie lowering her eyes and continuing, her soft skin tickling as she once more ran a finger across Tiffany's hand, stopping quickly as she sat back a touch, remaining silent and stony faced.
"What?" Tiffany asked, curiosity getting the better of her.
"Nothing..." Jeanie smiled. An uncomfortable, forced smile as she returned Tiffany's hand.
"Wait!" Amy snarled. "What did you see?"
"What did you think, you saw?" Tiffany corrected her.
Jeanie fell silent again, the crowd edging closer still, tiny step by tiny step, the wall of people almost on top of the small group.
"TELL HER!" Amy snapped in anger, Jeanie's eyes flying from Tiffany as she gulped.
"I saw..." Jeanie started, Tiffany leaning forward in anticipation, Amy hanging from her shoulder, involuntarily following. "I saw tragedy... Sorrow... Much death..."
"Isn't that part of life?" Tiffany asked as she slowly rocked backwards, her eyes narrowing.
"Not like I just saw..." Jeanie shook her head, Tiffany feeling the vibration as she looked at her hand, Jeanie trembling as she kept hold. "This was... 'different'!"
Without saying a word, Tiffany instantly withdrew her hand and shot to her feet, Amy jumping backwards in sheer shock, stunned as her eyes shot from Tiff, to Jeanie, then back to Tiff.
"Tiff, what are you...?" Amy began, Tiffany throwing up the palm of her hand as she turned and started to walk, the crowd of orange prison attire parting before her as eyes followed her every move. She'd only made it about five or six yards when, suddenly, she spun on the spot, her fist curled in anger, her own finger shooting out as she gestured in fury to Jeanie, the large Caribbean woman leaning forward on her make shift seat.
"You listen to me you fucking bitch!" Tiffany spat. "I don't know where you get off with this shit..."
"Do you still play with dolls?" Jeanie interrupted her voice quiet and gentle in the air.
Tiffany fell silent.
"Be warned Tiffany Valentine..." Jeanie carried on, Tiffany still stood mid-pose, fist clenched. "There is another man, in this place. And he is coming for you..."
Tiffany was speechless as Amy turned on the spot, the words of warning no sooner leaving Jeanie's mouth as Amy charged forward and threw herself over the group of friends surrounding Jeanie. The next thing Tiffany knew there was blood, Amy in full swing as Jeanie screamed, a gaping wound appearing in the side of her head, the ear laying in the burning sun as Amy kicked it up a level. The crowd surrounding them kicked into action also as herds of people charged past Tiffany and joined in, crates thrown in every direction as the inmates began to attack one another in fury, months, and years of pent up aggression finally finding the release valve as a volcano of violence erupted around her. The alarms blared from all four corners of the courtyard as gates screeched opened, guards approaching, their whistles piercing the air as they came running from every possible direction, the crowd of bodies rioting around Tiffany, completely lost in the moment as she let Jeanie's last words play over and over in her head.
'Another man... In this place... Coming for you.'
Feeling the sensation of being watched, Tiffany slowly rotated her body and turned her attention to the watchtower in the corner of the courtyard, the blackened windows high up blinding as the sunlight reflected.
Standing, arms outstretched and resting on the desk beneath the window of the watchtower, Governor McComb cast his eyes over the chaos ensuing below. The blur of bodies, the myriad of orange jumpsuits, not an unusual sight as the alarm rang out around the facility, but something else had caught his attention. The lone figure standing idly by as disorder and bedlam broke out around her, turning and averting her gaze, perusing the watchtower as she lifted her hand to shield her eyes. Curling his hands into fists and holding his breath, Governor McComb willed Tiffany on.
A punch...
A kick...
Any excuse to extend her sentence...
But it never came, McComb's eyes closing, his head bowing in resignation as Tiffany simply turned her head and slowly walked back to the building, the riot in full swing behind her as she entered the darkness of the corridor leading to the cell block, the line of extra wardens and guards racing past as Tiffany stood to one side and allowed them through before disappearing completely.
There was only one thing for it.
McComb would have to pay Valentine a little visit...
Tonight...
That Night...
"Tiff..."
The air remained quiet, the darkness of the cell creating a vacuum in which Amy's voice disappeared as quickly as it escaped her mouth, the silence broken only by the fidgeting sound below Amy's bunk as she leaned over and spoke once more, the springs of the mattress beneath groaning quietly as Tiffany tossed and turned.
"Tiff!" Amy hissed once more, her voice a whisper as she leaned further over the edge of the top bunk.
"For fucks sake Amy..." Tiffany sighed, rolling onto her back and taking a deep breath. "What?"
"I'm sorry." Amy's whispered again, resignation evident in her tone as she found her fingers tapping hypnotically along the frame of the bunk.
Silence. A pause as Tiffany cleared her throat.
"It's okay." She answered finally. "Really."
"No." Amy rolled over, her fingers working their way through her hair, cold to the touch and matted in places, dried blood bonding the strands together, the assault from the courtyard still visible. "I was stupid. I should have controlled myself. It was reckless."
"Just leave it Amy." Tiffany replied, rolling onto her side and tucking her hands beneath her pillow, the warmth of the cell sucking the oxygen as Tiffany lifted a leg and kicked the covers from her body, the cooler climate agreeing with her instantly.
"I just wanted you to know..." Amy's voice drifted from above, disappointment in her words, regret. "You know that right? I mean... You're out of here tomorrow... I just wanted you to know."
Tiffany swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat up, rubbing her temples as she began to quietly laugh, Amy hearing the movement and leaning over, straining her eyes as she smiled a rotten grin and laughed herself.
"What the fuck?" Amy chuckled. "What are you even laughing at?"
"I don't know." Tiffany answered, tears of happiness forming in her eyes as she lifted an arm and wiped her cheek clean, a chill creeping throughout the room as Tiffany sat exposed, her vest and underwear suddenly feeling inadequate as she felt the bunk tremble, Amy's legs suddenly appearing and dangling by her head.
"Man, are we fucked up." Amy laughed as her hands clung to the frame of the top bunk, her upper body flying forward as she bowed her head and closed her eyes.
"Say that again." Tiffany beamed. "What the fuck though? You really did a number on her."
"I know right?" Amy began to calm, her smile growing wider every second.
"Seriously though, what made you? Jeanie Robertson?" Tiffany looked up, the outline of her weathered cell mate faintly visible as a slither of light found its way through the cell door. "You know you're gonna have to watch your back from here on right?"
"Aah, fuck 'er." Amy gradually finished laughing. "She's the one that better watch her back."
"I guess." Tiffany sighed. "Better keep one ear to the ground at least."
The two girls allowed the silence to hang for a second before both bursting into hysterics, the ear torn from the side of Jeanie's face by the uneven teeth of Amy Kroeger had most probably found its way to a trash can by now, the irony of the situation lending a rich streak of humour to the conversation now taking place in cell number 146. Suddenly the girls flinched in shock as the door to the cell burst open, the heavy lock rotating in the chamber as the steel door swung on its hinges, the fluorescent light from the corridor beyond bursting frantically across the floor and sweeping over the girls as they sat, their heads turning immediately as their pupils shrunk in terror, the familiar silhouette standing proudly within the frame of the door. Craning their heads back towards their visitor, the girls blinked and allowed the stars to clear as they squinted into the light, their eyes adjusting quickly to the sudden influx.
"Ladies..." Governor McComb stepped forward, his hands placed firmly on his hips as he entered the dimly lit cell, two guards falling in behind, nightsticks drawn as they playfully held them across their chests, one of the guards smiling sickeningly as he stroked the length of metal clasped in his hands, the other remaining emotionless as he simply stood and observed.
"What the fuck?" Amy whispered, dropping from the bunk above and landing feet first, standing facing the door, all the while turning to Tiffany in surprise.
"Miss Kroeger..." McComb started as he took another step and allowed his hands to leave his waist, folding behind his back as he let his eyes examine the floor, speaking calmly, almost serenely. "That was quite a show you provided earlier. Very... Entertaining. Wouldn't you agree gentlemen?"
McComb turned to his two escorts, both men beaming as they focused on Amy.
"I don't know what you're talking about!" Amy replied, the venom evident in her voice.
"Oh I think you do." McComb took another step, pulling a steel chair from beneath the table nestled snugly in the corner of the cell, the legs screeching as he pulled, slowly. Without saying another word, he dropped to the seat and leaned on the table, his elbow propping the rest of his body as he thoughtfully stroked the build up of stubble resting on his chin.
"The fuck I do." Amy spat again. "You got no right in here 'Governor'! This is 'our' space."
"My dear, I'm afraid you're mistaken. This is 'my' facility, one that recently passed a very thorough government inspection with a rating of 97%." McComb smiled. "Now you see girls, some people would look on that as something of an achievement, something to be proud of. But not me."
"Oh yeah?" Amy laughed, Tiffany suddenly rising to her feet and standing beside her.
"Indeed, you see..." McComb paused, furrowing his brow as if to concentrate, the lines in his forehead accredited to the years of hard work, ass licking and brown nosing as he climbed the ranks of the prison system. "That missing three percent really annoys me. You know what I mean?"
"I can understand that." Tiffany chipped in, Amy turning towards her in confusion before spinning her head back toward the governor.
"So I've decided to try and remedy that." McComb looked up, his eyes flitting from one to the other as Tiffany and Amy stood side by side, a haunted look gracing both their faces.
"How do you mean?" Tiffany asked, sensing trouble. This time tomorrow she hoped to be laying between comfier sheets, eating food that was not only tastier, but healthier. Right now, she sensed danger... Danger that all this could be stripped from her in an instant.
"I've decided to have a clear out girls." McComb turned to the two guards, motioning with his head towards the two inmates as the guards began to step forward. "Get rid of any 'trouble makers' so to speak."
Taking a step back, Tiffany and Amy prepared themselves for whatever was about to happen, the two men grinning from ear to ear as they approached, both of them pulling back their nightsticks before fetching them down with a sickening crack as Tiffany turned and cowered, her eyes clenched close in panic. The scream reverberated around the room, echoed down the corridor as Amy shrieked in agony, holding out her arms in a last ditch effort to protect herself. Tiffany remained still, the noise escaping Amy's lungs sending her dizzy with sickness as another crack was heard, this time landing on Amy's leg as she fell to the floor with a thud, another cracking sound as the nightstick arced through the air once more and landed on the back of her other leg, the screaming now dying to a resigned whimper as Amy lay face down on the concrete floor of the cell, motionless. It took a few seconds for Tiffany's brain to make sense of proceedings, realise she hadn't felt the excruciating pain of the nightstick catching part of her body square on, opening her eyes and twisting her neck to see both guards going to work on Amy, the grunts of enthusiasm as they attacked over and over, blood beginning to spill across the floor as Amy's eyes glassed over, Governor McComb finally standing and clapping his hands together.
"Gentlemen, please." He whispered quietly as the two guards turned to face him. "Not here... Take her to the showers in the east block!"
Tiffany turned, nauseous at the site of her cell mate, broken and twisted on the cell floor as she screamed once more, the guards pulling her across the area of the cell by her broken arms. Fighting the urge to vomit, Tiffany fell backwards, landing on her ass as she backed herself into the corner, McComb now approaching calmly, his hands held out in a hushing motion. Feeling the cold wall suddenly upon her back, Tiffany stopped, her bare feet working overtime as she kept pushing, the dust flying from the cold floor as McComb sat on the edge of her bunk and watched as one of the guards released Amy's lifeless hand and closed the cell door quietly behind him.
"Come..." He patted the untidy bedding of Tiffany's bunk, gesturing for her to join him as he sat, his head turning back to her.
"No." Tiffany gasped, her eyes streaming with tears as she closed them tightly, anything to block out the image, the noise, the bastard sat on her bunk.
"Miss Valentine, let me assure you I have no intention of seeing you come to any harm." He tilted his head and fixed her with a sincere look. "I'm sorry you had to witness that but, like all good machines, this facility has the odd 'cog' that needs keeping on the straight and narrow. Now please come and sit."
Tiffany shook her head, eyes still closed as she felt the coldness all around her, throwing her head back and resting it against the solid wall.
"Listen, Tiffany." McComb tried once more. "Amy Kroeger is one of the sickest individuals I have ever had the displeasure of speaking with. Evil, wicked, malicious. Guilty, caught red handed with the corpses of twenty three men. You on the other hand..."
"What?" Tiffany hissed, her eyes opening, the tears filling up inside as she spoke. "What about me?"
"You're not a patch on her." McComb smiled. "Compared to Amy Kroeger, attempted murder seems pretty trivial doesn't it?"
"Self defence." Tiffany spat as she shot to her feet, rage burning within as McComb sat on the edge of HER bunk, untouchable.
"Please Miss Valentine, please." He moved up, gesturing once more for her to take a seat. Taking a few steps forward and keeping one eye on the cell door, Tiffany dropped to the bunk, the gap between her and McComb as large as she could possibly make it.
"It was self defence!" Tiffany mumbled as she leaned forward, her forehead resting in her hand.
"Your kind doesn't act in self defence my dear." McComb's eyes wandered around the cell, his hand shooting up as he pulled the cuff of his jacket back and took in the time on his watch.
"Meaning?" Tiffany asked as she turned towards him.
"I've seen your kind around. Not just in here, but on the streets too." McComb stared dead ahead as he spoke, the tranquillity in his voice amazing Tiffany. "The acts you carry out aren't self defence, they're acts if sickness, aggression, violence, you get a masochistic pleasure from seeing somebody else suffer, and this time tomorrow, you'll be free to act however you want once more."
Tiffany looked at him, the words he spoke hitting home, the truth buried beneath as he hit the nail on the head.
"Make no mistake, Tiffany..." He paused. "You will be back. How soon, depends entirely on you I guess."
"I'll never be back here." Tiffany shook her head, a determined grin crossing her face as she laughed at the very thought.
At this point, McComb moved rapidly along the bed, his body flying up against Tiffany's as she attempted to move, the end of the bed penning her in, Governor McComb grabbing her hand as she attempted to stand.
"Listen here you evil little bitch!" He hissed through gritted teeth. "I could've made your life hell on earth in here, but I didn't. Truth be known I could have you in here for a lot longer. It wouldn't take much for you to act out, I'm sure."
McComb's hand shot to Tiffany's knee, his palm grasping her flesh and stroking as he gently moved his hand upwards, reaching the lace of her underwear in no time at all as he massaged her thigh and spoke into her ear, Tiffany fighting back the urge to react as McComb's words became lost in the fear rippling through her body.
"I've played nice this last few years Miss Valentine, but no more." He hissed evilly, his breath warm on Tiffany's ear. "I've gone easy on you in the hope this time would be one of consent, but I can see that isn't going to happen, so now you have a choice Tiffany."
Her eyes slammed shut as she felt his hand entering her underwear, the urge to fight back unbearable as she clenched her hands into fists and screwed up the sheets of the bed behind her, his warm hands now beginning to play with her as tears streamed down her face.
"What choice?" She sobbed as McComb's fingers began to enter her, his voice quiet as he groaned a little, Tiffany trembling under his touch.
"Resist me... And stay a little longer." His voice was quiet, almost inaudible as he spoke into her ear, his face pressed up against hers. "Or say nothing and walk free..."
Suddenly the light of the cell flickered on, the room cast in a fluorescent glow of its own as the door rocked open, Tiffany thankfully able to clamp her legs together and cross them, folding her arms across her chest as she turned to face the opposite wall, McComb yanking his hands free of Tiffany's underwear and turning in a fit of rage at whoever had opened the door, probably one of his two cronies come back to ask some unbelievably stupid question.
"Can't you see we're busy for Christ's sake..." McComb suddenly dropped silent, Tiffany picking up on this and also turning towards the cell door. Standing in the doorway, a look of confusion and shock carved on his features, stood a prison guard.
"Governor McComb?" The young man asked, almost in disbelief. McComb stood quickly to his feet and headed to the door, the guard not moving as he approached.
"What is it Shepherd?" McComb snapped, throwing his arms across his chest.
"Is everything alright?" The young man asked once more, looking over McComb's shoulders, Tiffany's bloodshot eyes and tear stained cheeks evident on first inspection.
"Yes, of course it is." He turned to Tiffany. "Miss Valentine and myself were just having a quick chat. Last night and all, wanted to wish her well."
The guard turned his attention back to McComb.
"But it's late sir!" He half stated, half asked starting to shake his head. "You really shouldn't be down here sir."
"I know, I know." McComb nodded in agreement, stroking the stubble across his chin. "But as you can see, everything is... Fine."
"I guess." The guard responded, looking once more over McComb's shoulder and addressed Tiffany. "Miss, are you alright?"
Tiffany looked up, a look of anger emitted from McComb's face. Remembering his words, his threats, she smiled half heartedly and nodded.
"Of course she's alright." McComb laughed, throwing an arm around the young guard's shoulders, turning back to Tiffany, speaking as they left the cell. "Good night Miss Valentine, good luck for tomorrow and don't forget what I told you."
As McComb and the guard left, Tiffany could hear them chatting more, the light suddenly extinguished as the voices and footsteps began to fade. All Tiffany cold think of right now was how close she had just come to two abhorrent events as she lay down on her bunk and closed her eyes. Pulling the covers over her, she thought about Amy and what must be happening to her right now in the east block. She had wanted to say something when the guard had burst in, but the words wouldn't come. After all, the first rule of any place like this was simple. Look after number one.
Slowly, Tiffany began to drift off, the morning and her release not able to come a second too soon.
Hello freedom.
June 14th 1993
Now, as she stood in line with a small gathering of fellow inmates, Tiffany could taste her freedom, feel it almost as she stood perfectly still, the heat enveloping each and every one of them as the bus circled the courtyard and came to a stop before them, the driver throwing the door open and leaving the engine to idly tick over, the thick diesel fumes filling the air around them as the cool breeze kicked up a cloud of dust, the courtyard gate screeching to a stop in the background. The guard finished conversing with the driver, the engine falling silent with a twist of the mighty machines ignition, before turning back to the group of women and demanding they stand straight, heads up, eyes forward. As peace fell over the assembled inmates and staff of Logan Correctional Centre an air of anxiety filled the atmosphere as the door behind the women fluttered open with a sickening click, the guard before them standing to attention as Governor McComb entered the courtyard, stopping only to close the door behind him before composing himself and crossing the dirt strewn courtyard and joining his underling, his wiry figure turning to face the assembled group before him as his square jaw began to wag, Tiffany in the back row hearing only the muffled voice of the governor as her mind flashed back to the evening before, an unclean feeling laying heavy over her as she struggled to concentrate.
"Thank you warden." McComb smiled, his colleague standing to the side as McComb clapped his hands, rubbing them together as he began to speak.
"Ladies," He began. "Please, allow me to be the first to congratulate and wish you the very best of luck upon your release. Hopefully, since first arriving here at Logan, you've seen the error of your ways and found your transition into a law abiding, peaceful citizen a smooth one. Despite a few 'episodes', I think we can all agree that your time here has been one without incident."
He paused, clearing his throat before continuing.
"Now, you may have been looking forward to this day, as I'm sure you have, thinking 'this is it...', 'freedom...', but let me stress, to some of you, especially the ones on early release..." His head turned towards Tiffany, her eyes shooting to the ground. "That this is far from the end. Now each of you has been sent here for a reason. That reason, because of the splendid job this facility does of preparing you for life beyond those fences."
He turned, pointing to the perimeter fence, the barbwire curling and looping around the top of the mesh fencing.
"Now some of you may think your time here has been with only one goal... To punish you for the wrongs you committed whilst on the other side of those fences. In a way, you may be right. But the truth is far more than that. Here at Logan we don't punish, we rehabilitate. Each one of you has no doubt found that the skill shops and learning programs of this facility offer you an advantage. True you have a criminal record, but you also have skills, qualifications, something that will help you in your search for a better life. Hopefully a life without disruption, crime and abusing the law."
He stopped and placed his hands behind his back, his tweed jacket creasing along the shoulders as he ran his eyes over the small crowd.
"Let me stress..." Another pause. "Some of you WILL be back. It's not something I want, but unfortunately it seems to be fate. Inevitable that one or two of you will go off the rails, revert to your old ways, despite the best efforts of my staff and myself. Now as I said, this isn't something I want, and each year we like to try and help people integrate back into society as smoothly and as trouble free as possible. But we can only do so much, the rest is down to one person, and that is yourselves."
Smiling and standing to the side, the bus driver fired the engine, Governor McComb gesturing to the bus as the warden returned to his position and spoke.
"Okay girls, nice and easy. Front row, left to right, let's get a move on, let's go!" His voice stern as he barked his simple command.
One by one, the girls climbed the bus, Governor McComb offering a nod of the head and his best wishes for the future, some offering a friendly handshake, some offering no more than to return his nod of the head as they boarded their ride home. Very last in the queue, Tiffany just wanted on, she was in no mood for playing friendly games with McComb, especially not after the night before. As far as she was concerned, McComb could be lying in a gutter, flames erupting from every orifice, and she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of urinating on him. Soon enough the queue dissolved, Tiffany the last to board as McComb gave her a dignified nod of the head, his hand shooting out as she placed her foot on the bottom step of the bus, gripping her tight and pulling her close, sneering into her ear, his tone one of sleaze and disgust.
"I meant every word Valentine." His lip curled manically as he spoke, Tiffany turning her head and catching his breath in her face, recoiling in a repulsed manner. "You'll be back... Broken cogs don't work in 'the machine'. Sooner or later you're going to snap again, and when you do... I'll have you back here like this."
He clicked his fingers, the air snapping violently as Tiffany smiled.
"Until then, I'll amuse myself with one of the..." His pause lingered. "Less glamorous inmates. I'll give Amy Kroeger your regards."
Stunned, Tiffany returned the snap of the fingers, McComb flinching in surprise as Tiffany leaned back and shook off his grip.
"Do whatever you want sweetface." She hissed, a malevolent grin crossing her face. "Because the only way I'm coming back here, is if I sneak in and slit your fucking throat you filthy cunt!"
"You can't..." McComb started, Tiffany shooting him down in an instant.
"I just did." Her smile grew. "Watch your back... 'Governor McComb'!"
With that, Tiffany boarded the bus, the driver throwing the door closed and giving a little gas as the prison gate swung open and the bus started to move off, Tiffany dropping to her seat and giving one last look to the last two years and nine months of her life. McComb and his warden stood and gave the bus a wave, the sunlight reflected from the dark windows casting a flicker of light along the ground as Tiffany blew McComb a kiss and ran her index finger along her throat, quickly lifting her hand and flipping her middle finger in his direction as she gave a little laugh and turned to face forward, her bag resting on the seat beside her.
Next stop Chicago...
Freedom.