AN: SO! It's the one year anniversary or not updating. And I only had one chapter left. What the hell!?

I wasn't so sure that I was going to finish the story, because I got a case of writer's block for the longest time on how to end the story. Some of my readers are already livid that I haven't updated in so long, and I didn't want to rush the ending to the story, because my angry readers would be even more angry for making a crappy ending. But finally, I finished the story. So again, so sorry for the delay! Something short and Sweet.

Please read and review, and even favourite!

Thanks everyone for reading this story. I appreciate it.

Don't own the green mile.

Chapter 22: A New Adventure? (Epilogue)

The three guards of E Block stared vacantly into a campfire. They were situated outside of Paul's home, pondering about life's many wonders and tragedies. It had been almost a week since Freddie's death, and it was a relief to all of them knowing that he was now a dead man.

Paul often wondered what drove a man to do unimaginable things, especially an individual such as Freddie. He bore a black heart and broke people's spirits, sometimes shifting their morals. The dead man convinced numerous groups of innocent people to kill themselves in each other's arms without thinking twice. But what drove him to do those things? Freddie constantly stated that it was pure boredom; that his genius mind needed to focus on something that would personally benefit him. But something deep down inside told Paul that there was more to it. He just couldn't put his finger on it. It was a mystery, and would stay a mystery till the end of his time on earth.

Brutus chucked more wood into the fire, prodding at it ever now and then with a long, thick stick. He gawked at Paul who looked rather solemn. Why was he so depressed on such a fine evening? Autumn would be here soon, and for Brutal, sitting in the cold was not an option. Brutus finally said, "What's going on, Paul? One minute you're full of life, and the next minute you're dead in another dimension."

Paul looked up. "Who me, Brutal?"

Brutus chuckled. "Okay, Paul."

Paul shook his head. He said, "I'm thinking about Freddie."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Oh come on Paul, not again. That happened almost a week ago-"

Paul calmly interrupted the young man. "Dean, it's something that I can't just simply brush off my shoulder. I'm the supervisor, and one of us got hurt."

Brutus sighed. "There was nothing you could have done which would have altered the future. No matter what angle, the outcome would have been the same."

Paul blinked. "Yeah, you're right." Paul asked Brutus, "Brutal, why do you think Freddie was the way he was?"

Brutus shrugged. "I'm not quite sure, Paul. But if I had to make a guess…maybe it's one of two things. He was sick, or he was born to kill. My mind agrees with my heart for once, he was definitely born to kill. He had no conscience, and he played with us - all of us. First, he attempted to turn Dean against you. For me, he deduced my past life, hoping that I would crack. Harry, well, that's a different story; we know the pain he cast upon Harry-but with you Paul, he hated you the most! And he wanted to see you so angry that you would blindly walk into his trap."-

"And I did," said Paul.

Brutal begged to differ. "Nah, Paul. He killed a lot of people. He tried to kill all of us. Paul, I don't think that poison was meant for Harry. I think it was meant for you. You kept him locked up. Last week, he knew it was the end, and he didn't want to hear the words 'roll on two' escape your lips. He hated you that much. Getting shot would be more convenient."

Dean questioned, "So what now?"

Paul slightly smiled. He said, "We start a new day. And we make the most of it. By the way, how's Emily?"

Dean answered, "Relieved."

Paul asked, "Still thinking of having another kid?"

The young man smiled. "I think so."

Paul turned to Brutus. He said playfully, "Brutal, are you going to be getting married anytime soon?"

Brutal tilted his head to the side. "You know, Paul. I'm probably going to be a single man for the rest of my life. Sandra's death told me that it just wasn't meant to be. But, I don't think I mind being single. You can do whatever the hell you want and no one can tell you otherwise."

Paul agreed. "That is true"-

Dean said, "That is so true."

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows. It carried a silver tray, with a tea towel covering its contents. Paul, Brutal and Dean looked up at the same time to see a familiar face standing before them. They all greeted the man, and their friend.

Harry sat down beside Paul and said, "Sorry I'm late boys. Mary is not feeling well. I wanted to make sure that she was going to be alright before I left."

Paul nodded. "That's understandable."

Brutus gawked at the tray that Harry lay onto his lap. "What is that? Soup?"

Harry bore a sly expression. "I can assure you Brutal, that this is no chicken soup." He lifted the towel, revealing four shot glasses filled to the brim with hard liquor. "This is that stuff that one of my daughters sent when she was in Germany with her husband. Remember I told you about that, Paul? You can't get it here in the United States."

Each man grabbed a shot glass.

Brutus raised the glass to the level of his nose; sniffing the contents. His body twitched after inhaling the aroma. "Damn it Harry, what the hell is this? Are you trying to kill us?"

Harry leaned forwards. "This whiskey is one of the strongest drinks in the world. I think it is - what would it be – let me think here now - number nine at least."

Brutus raised an eyebrow. "I'm not too fond of whiskey," he informed the older man, "But I'll drink for your sake…pardon me, for all our sakes."

Paul raised his glass in the air. So did the others.

Harry nudged Paul. "Come on, Paul. Toast."

Paul said, taking a deep breath, "Very well…to all of us, and our health! To those absent, like Cassandra, and Sandra, and Winnie. To our wives, who put up with our shit day in and day out, and of course, to our extended family and children. To our friendships, that they may last till the day we die. And as much as I hate to say it…to the mile."

The other men repeated, "To the mile."

Pressing the shot glasses against their lips, the men tilted their heads back, and swallowed the liquid inside with one gulp. The older men winced as the hot liquor poured into their bellies. Dean, on the other hand, posed an expression of discomfort and distaste.

Dean cried, "Yuck!"

Harry commented sarcastically after Dean's reaction to the drink. "What, you don't like it?"

Dean retorted, "I'm not one for hard liquor."

Paul turned his attention towards Harry. He asked aggressively, "What do you call this stuff, fire?"

Brutus stared into his empty glass, as if he were searching for more. "I can't imagine what it is doing to my stomach lining."

Harry laughed. He answered, whilst laughing in a mocking tone of voice. "I don't know, it's got some long ass German name."

Paul shifted his eyes. "I see."

Harry said, continuing to laugh, "They say it's good for the blood, especially my blood."

Paul gawked at Harry. "I forgot. Harry, should you really be drinking? I mean, how many more blood transfusions do you have to undergo at the hospital?"

Harry replied, "My last one is tomorrow morning. At the moment, all of the poison is drained from my body, but the doctors want one more, " he winked, "Just to be sure - and I can't blame them."

Paul turned to the other men across from him. He thought for a moment or two before saying, "I know...we - especially me - don't like discussing work related stuff when we're off duty, but I want to let you guys know that we've got six new convicts entering the mile tomorrow. So ya'll be coming early tomorrow, you hear? Anyway, not my orders, they're Hal's orders."

Dean stated, "So it has begun."

Paul answered Dean's rhetorical statement, "Yes, this depression will surely keep us busy at the mile." He looked at Harry one last time, and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "And you've got nothing to worry about. Hal also said that everyone here at E block is safe from any potential job losses."

Harry smiled.

"Paul," Brutus said, attempting to get the man's attention. "Paul."

"Yes, Brutal?"

"What're we going to do?"

Paul grinned. He said, "What we've always done, Brutal. We get through this…we get through this together. I firmly believe that two years from now, things will calm down at the mile, and new adventures will resurface."

Brutus placed a tight fist against his cheek. He agreed, "Yeah, yeah you're right."

Dean shook his head, failing to understand Paul's ideology. "A new adventure, Paul? I hardly call executing people an 'adventure'."

"Well," Paul said, locking his eyes into the belly of the fire. "Dean, one day, something will happen at the Green Mile that will go beyond our imagination and belief systems. And once that adventure ends, I will surely quit."

Brutus played with his empty glass. "I'm not so sure you'll quit, Paul."

THE END