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Chapter 34 – The longest night

Ellie had endured many nerve-racking waits in her life, but this one won the race by miles. The first fifteen minutes or so after the guards had left, she and Dean were in a state of paralyzed trepidation, expecting the alarm to go off and howl through the prison at every second and the patrolling guards to come bursting through the door, guns drawn, roaring and shouting…

But nothing happened. E block was quiet as the grave. Dean looked at Ellie across the duty desk, his eyes wide.

"I think they did it," he croaked after the long silence. "I don't know how they did it, but they did it."

"Has no one ever escaped from the prison before?"

"Not unnoticed," Dean said befuddled. "Not until now, that is," and Ellie's stomach twisted. God Almighty… Paul and his men had already done the impossible and they still had to sneak back into the prison again. How could this ever end well?

She should have told him, before he left, when she had the chance. He had completely baffled her with his unusual straightforwardness and the thought of it to be too late now, was painfully unbearable.

Stop it… He's coming back… How can he not?

She couldn't bear to think about how much of the plan that could still go wrong, so she kept her mind occupied by stared at the clock above the office door and trying to figure out of, where they were now. Probably in Harry's van, on their way to the warden's house.

Dean followed her glare and stated: "They have five hours until the shift ends."

He said it plainly, as it was suppose to make them feel better. Then he added in a hushed voice: "You think he'll let them in?"

"I don't know," Ellie said, feeling uneasy. The silence settled again, only disturbed by Wharton's hoarse snore and Ellie tried to remember exactly how in the world she had ended up in this situation.

Being a part of a night like this had been the last thing she expected when she volunteered for the job two month ago. To be fairly honest there were a lot of things she hadn't been expecting, when she had signed the transfer papers: To meet a man full of miracles for one thing and a very special mouse. To witness the brutality of hatred and the strength of true compassion and friendship. And she definitely hadn't been expecting to fall in love – least of all to love someone with all her heart – before her transfer was over.

Her time in Cold Mountain, she realized, had been more eventful than her entire life combined.

She wasn't really sure whether to be sad or pleased about that, not now when her time here was about to come to an end.

To have to stop thinking about that, it's not helping…

She peeked over at Dean, who was staring at the door to the restrain room with an empty glare. Someone had to do something otherwise the waiting time would make them both go crazy. Ellie opened the drawer in the duty desk and plucked the worn-out card game that had already distracted many guards throughout the years from the drawer-mess.

"Here," she said, passing the deck to Dean. "Let's play something."

The young guard looked like she had just shaken him back to reality. "Play what?"

"Anything. Give them a shuffle and I will make us some tea."

oOo

Despite a halfhearted commitment and a raising fatigue they managed the keep a couple of games going for more than an hour. Only one time was the tense waiting interrupted, when Wharton's bunk creaked and they both thought the inmate had woken up from his morphine coma.

Dean groaned, when Wharton stopped moving and let out a gasping snore.

"The suspense's going to kill me," he muttered and rubbed his tired eyes; the adrenaline had kept them going until now, but everything had an end. Ellie looked at the clock – a quarter to four. If the plan had worked, Paul and the men were probably on their way back by now.

"It can't be long now," she told Dean, even though it was as much an encouragement to herself as it was to him. Dean leaned back in his chair and stared bleary-eyed towards the restrain room.

"He's very quiet…" he noticed. "Percy, I mean. You think he's still alive?"

It was a clue for one of them to go check, but neither of them moved. Percy hadn't exactly been the hero of the office since Delacroix' catastrophic execution.

"I think he's planning his revenge in silence," Ellie muttered. "A bastard like him is imperishable like weed. Or pneumonia."

Dean seemed to consider the loss they would suffer if Percy died, but ended up leaving the duty desk so he could make some fresh coffee in Paul's office instead. Ellie heard him yawn through the sound of the water boiling – then there was aloud clonk when he put his coffee cup down and he burst out:

"That's about time!"

Someone coughed fiercely and Ellie jumped up from her seat, only to nearly collide with Harry in the doorway. He looked strained and worried, grasping his shot gun in both hands. Behind him came Brutus and Paul, both with one of John Coffeys massive arms draped around their shoulders. The combination of exhaustion and the great relief it was to see them all alive almost made Ellie tear up.

Coffey coughed again; he was pale as ash and the men had to drag him through the office, because he could hardly stand on his own.

"What the hell happened to him?" Dean asked.

"He's hurtin', Dean," Brutus growled through clenched teeth under Coffeys immense weight. "He's hurtin' bad."

"He hasn't coughed it up yet," Paul explained, short of breath.

They reached Coffey's cell and dumped the big man on his bunk. Coffey curled into a ball, his rough breathing sounding worse than ever, and turned his back to them. They walked out and Dean closed the door and locked it.

They watched Coffey's shivering back for a moment in tense silence, before Dean couldn't help it any longer.

"So?" He looked around at his colleagues sweaty, taut faces. "What about Mrs. Moores? Was it like the mouse? Was it a… you know… a miracle?"

"Yes," Paul said gently, wiping his forehead with the back of his sleeve. "Yes, it was."

It was like his words released some of the tensing. Cautious smiles were traded. Brutus reached out for Ellie; he needed some kind of physical proof that they were really back on the Mile and not just a part of some vivid dream created by his bushed brain. Harry almost chuckled.

"Christ," he muttered. "I can't believe we got away with it."

"We still gotta convince a certain somebody to keep his trap shut," Brutus reminded him over Ellie's head. The men glanced at the padded door.

"Go get his stuff," Paul said and shook his keys out.

oOo

Percy squinted and blinked, when they opened the door to the restrain room and turned on the light. He looked like a kid after a tantrum: Face and eyes all red and puffy and his otherwise so neat hair was sticking to his sweaty forehead.

Paul and Brutus squatted down in front of him and Percy eyed them warily.

"Listen, I wanna talk, not shout," Paul said calmly. "If I take that tape of ya, you gonna behave?"

Percy nodded.

"My mama always said, you do it fast, it won't hurt so much," Brutus said, when Paul reached out and tugged at the end of the tape covering Percy's mouth. He ripped it of in on quick movement and Percy flinched with a groan. Brutus tried not to smile to obviously. "Guess she was wrong."

Percy wetted his sore lips and pinned his watery eyes at Paul.

"Let me out of this nut-coat," he rasped.

"In a minute…"

"No! Now!" Percy sneered. "Let me out now! I want out NOW…!"

Paul slapped him across the face and Percy tumbled over. Happy that Ellie and Dean had been ordered back to the duty desk, Brutus grabbed Percy by his collar and yanked him back up again.

"Shut up," Paul said impatiently, when Percy gaped at him like he couldn't believe his nerves. "And listen: You deserved to be punished for what you did to Del – and you accept it like a man or we'll make you sorry you were ever born. We'll tell people how you sabotaged Del's execution…"

"Sabotaged!" Percy croaked.

"… and how you pissed yourself like a frightened little girl," Paul interrupted him harshly. "Oh, yes, we'll talk."

Percy's jaw moved quivering, when he swallowed.

"But, Percy," Paul continued, his voice lower but definitely not kinder. "You mind me now. We'll also see you beaten within an inch of your life." He leaned closer to Percy. "We know people too, are you so foolish you don't realize that? We have friends here who had access to every part of this prison at every time we want."

Brutus knew that was just an empty threat, but it worked: Percy blinked rapidly, staring at Paul.

"Let bygones be bygones," Paul said, almost gently this time. "Nothing's hurt so far but your pride. And nobody need to ever know that except the people in this little room."

"What happens on the Mile, stays on the Mile," Brutus clarified. "Always had."

Percy said nothing at first. He just sat there, eyes blank, not able to meet their gazes. When he finally opened his mouth, he spoke in a small, fragile voice: "May I be let out of this coat now?"

Paul and Brutus traded glances, got to their feet and pulled Percy up into an upright position. They undid the straps and removed the coat. Percy's first reaction was to reach up and smooth his hair as a way to regain what was left of his dignity.

"My things?" he asked.

Harry handed him his belt, gun and baton bat.

"Think it over, Percy," Paul advised him softly, while Percy strapped on his holster belt.

"Oh, I intend to," Percy responded quietly, looking straight into Paul's face. "I intend to think about it very hard. Starting right now."

He pushed his way past them and walked out of the padded room.

"He'll talk," Brutus muttered to Paul. "Sooner or later."

"I know," Paul sighed.

They eyed Percy as he walked down the Mile, fumbling with his holster. He stopped outside Coffeys cell and glanced in between the bars – it was just a quiet glare, but Brutus saw his face change in a split second. He winched inside. Christ, he knows what we've been doing… But then, before anyone could grasp what was going on, a brown arm shot out through the bars and seized Percy by the throat.

"JOHN!" Paul roared. "NO!"

They lunged out of the restrain room and grabbed hold of Percy to wrest him free, but Coffey hardly seemed to notice their struggle: He pulled Percy towards him as far as the bars allowed, until they were almost face to face. Percy tried to scream, but Coffeys hand was wrapped so tightly around his throat, he couldn't even gasp for air.

"John! Let him go!" Paul cried out, but Coffey ignored him and they could just watch in stunned horror as the big man bend down towards Percy's terrified face and opened his mouth wide.

The black insects that Brutus had witnessed Coffey remove from Melinda Moore, flowed from the condemned man's mouth and into Percy's, up his nose and down his throat. Percy gagged and his eyes rolled back into his head, exposing the white. He shivered, his body went limp.

It was over as sudden as it had begun. Coffey let go of Percy and stumbled backwards into his cell, where he collapsed on the floor, gasping for air as if he had held it since they left the Moores.

And Percy just stood there, swaying slightly. Brutus reached out to support him, when the young guard took a few, wobbly steps backwards.

"Percy?" Paul said cautiously and snapped his fingers in front of the boy's face. "Hey – you all'right?"

Percy didn't even blink. Paul slapped him gently on the cheeks and Percy turned his head slowly towards him. His face was blank as an untouched canvas, his mouth hang open, his eyes looked like the windows in an old, abandoned house.

"Percy?" Paul repeated, now looking more than just a bit worried.

Percy fixed his empty glare on something behind Paul and started walking down the Mile. His steps were slow and uneven: He looked like a sleepwalker. Somewhere between the front desk, where Ellie and Dean were standing (they both looked as paralyzed as Brutus felt), and the padded room he stopped and turned around.

He was standing in front of Whartons cell. Brutus didn't even realize this, until he heard Wharton speak. The commotion had probably woken him up.

"Boy, what're you lookin' at?" he rasped groggily. Percy didn't respond and bedsprings creaked, when Wharton got to his feet and walked up to the cell door. He sneered at Percy.

"I asked you something, you limp noodle," he growled. "You wanna kiss my ass? You wanna suck my dick?"

What happened next happened so fast, but for Brutus it felt like time moved in slow motion. One moment Percy just stood there, glaring at Wharton – the next moment he had ripped the gun from its holster and emptied all six champers in the cylinder. Brutus could see every time the hammer fell; he could count every BANG, every bullet leaving the barrel. He could see the slight stunned surprise on Whartons face, when his chest was perforated. He could see blood fly. He could see Dean push Ellie away from the gunfire, shock exploding on their pale faces.

He could almost see himself move forward next to Harry and Paul, like an out-of-body experience.

The time went back to normal, the moment he felt himself hit Percy and knock him to the floor. Suddenly the air was filled with screams and hollor, bodies slamming down on Percy and pinning him to the floor. The gun flew out of his hand and skated across the floor.

"Oh no," Dean gasped. "Oh no, no, no…"

Percy started to cough fiercely, still with the horrifying empty glare in his eyes. He made a retching sound and out came the insects: They swirled around his head for a second, before they disappeared. Brutus slumped down next to him, still holding on to his arm, even though Percy lay still as a doll. He felt numb.

For the longest moment no one spoke. No one seemed to know what to say. Dean picked up Percy's gun from the floor; his hands were shaking.

When Harry finally broke the silence, Brutus felt like he had just been awaken from a nap that had lasted to long.

"What do we do now?"

"We have to call Hal," Paul said in a voice that didn't sound like him at all. "And the police. What else can we do?"

"Not while Ellie is here," Brutus croaked and got to his feet. "She ain't even suppose to be here."

"I… I can't just leave you," Ellie said faintly. "Not now."

"You can and you have to," Paul responded with regained firmness. "Brute's right. If they see you here, they'll get suspicious."

"You can wait in my car," Brutus said. "I'll be out as soon as possible."

"I still have to go through the security gate," she protested. "They will know I have been here all night."

"Tell them you've been in the infirmary with our patient," Paul said. "The infirmary register will prove that Alice has been there all night and no one will bother to ask, when this episode comes to light. They will be too busy here to worry about anything else."

"But…"

"Please, Ellie," Brutus said and put the car keys in her hand. When she finally realized it would be a lost cause to continue, she left and Brutus thanked the heaven that she at least had been saved from being a part of this mess.

oOo

Ellie wasn't sure how long she waited in his car. It felt like days, but it was probably an hour, maybe an hour and a half. She saw the police cars arrive and the ambulance, when it left. Finally she spotted Brutus' towering figure walk across the dark parking lot and she left the car to meet him.

Brutus spread his arms open in a despairing gesture and she walked straight into his embrace. She could almost smell the long night on him: His exhaustion and dread and the aftershock of the shooting.

"They're taking him to the hospital," he told her in a voice that was hoarser than usual. "Waiting for him to come around I guess."

"What did you tell the police?"

"That Percy just pulled out his gun and shot him, no questions ask."

She looked at him, wide-eyed. "And they believed that?"

"It looks like it. We told them how much Percy despised Wharton after that day, when Wharton grabbed hold of him and scared him so much, he pissed himself." He paused. "Hal will protect us no matter what – even if he's gonna lose his jobs because of it. He told that to Paul. I think we're safe now."

Ellie fell silent in his arms. Brutus couldn't blame her. It was all too much to handle for one night. There was a storm going on in his own head as well and he had given up trying to keep track of his thoughts. He just felt empty – empty and tired as hell. Despite his feelings for Percy, he never would have wanted it to end like this.

"You want me to drive you home?" he asked her, when she still haven't said anything. It had actually been the plan that she would drive home with him, but under these circumstances he wasn't sure if she still wanted to.

Ellie shook her head. "I don't want to be alone."

"Me neither."

She handed him the keys.

"I have to tell you something," she said quietly and looked up at him.

"What's that?"

"I love you too."

She looked so solemn that he had to smile.

"Good," he said and kissed her.