Chapter Fourteen

Figuring that the shovel's slice must have cut Jess' appetite straight out of his stomach, all he could do was stare at his sandwich. Not that there was ever any appeal to what was served morning, noon and night anyway, but he couldn't even put the stale bread and moldy cheese up to his lips.

Wadding the napkin into his fist, Jess flicked the fabric ball across the table and watched it unravel on the floor. While it hurt to bend at the waist, he quickly grabbed it back into his clasp. He had seen men punished for worse than not cleaning up after themselves. But maybe he should tamp it tight again and let it smack into the nearest guard's back.

Jess had entertained this thought before in the three days since Slim had been taken away, albeit most of those thoughts were far more sinister than a soft pelt against flesh. Tossing his waste bucket into Moose's face sounded about right. While every prisoner likely had some retaliating ideas during their time of captivity, Jess wasn't concocting any scheme just for an opportunity to smile and say, "Gotcha." If he could get branded as a troublemaking prisoner, then he could get moved into that far off section of the prison where Slim lived.

The napkin taking up residence in his fist again, Jess searched the room over for the nearest guard. When he found Moose, Jess' head shifted in a solemn shake. This was why he kept his thoughts from becoming the desired action.

Moose was pounding his rifle on a prisoner's back. What the man did, Jess had no idea, but he doubted it merited that kind of response. The same could happen to Jess if he did something the guard didn't like. Or maybe he would get the worst kind of treatment Yuma had to offer. Only yesterday someone else had been killed by a guard's bullet, and word running around the prison was that all Garcia did was spit on the guard's boot.

The man's punishment over, Jess followed Moose's steps with his eyes only. There would be no attempt to get marked as a troublemaker today, tomorrow, or any in the future. It was more important to stay alive for Slim's sake than to die trying to move closer to him.

This time his senses picking up the approach, Jess quickly spun, catching Timeon by the wrist before the man's fingers could tap him on the shoulder. "What do you want?"

He faked a smile. "I understand you've lost your friend, Harper."

"Yeah, what of it?"

"Maybe I'd like to fill the void."

Jess' hand splayed across his stomach. "You think I've forgotten this?"

"No. But there's something else I doubt you've forgotten. The money."

Releasing Timmy's wrist, Jess resisted the urge to shove him to the ground. "Ain't we been through this before? There ain't no money."

"And I say there is."

"Yeah, well you saying it's gonna snow tonight ain't gonna make it happen either."

"Look." Timeon's arm draped over Jess' shoulders. "I'm willing to set our differences aside."

"I ain't," Jess answered, trying to rid himself of Timmy's touch, but the man only squeezed Jess tighter, pinning his neck into the crook of his arm.

"Come on, listen for just a second. I've got a proposition for you, a good one, make that a big one. If you cut me in on some of that hundred-thou, I'll help you and your buddy get outta here."

The desire was strong, yet Jess was too intrigued to slam his elbow into Timmy's gut. "How?"

"There's gonna be a prison break, Harper. The more men in on this and the easier it's gonna be to get out and stay out."

"Sure. Like all the guards are gonna have their eyes closed."

"One certainly will. I'm gonna kill Moose myself."

Jess' eyes darted to where the guard stood, running a cloth up and down his rifle as if beating on the prisoner had somehow tarnished its appearance. "And if he triggers you first?"

"It won't happen that way, not if there are more men than he can shoot at right alongside me."

Jess shook his head. "Too risky."

"Of course there'll be risk. But ain't it worth taking to get outta here?"

"I reckon, but…"

"Say you're with me and I'll make sure Sherman's just as free."

"I can't. I don't trust you."

"You don't have to trust me." Grabbing Jess by the chin, Timmy guided Jess' vision around the dining room. "Trust in everyone that wants outta this place! I guarantee you that's everybody. What do you say, Harper?"

He opened his mouth. An agreeing word was so close to coming out, Jess could taste it on his tongue. It was like whiskey, only stronger, and Jess parted his lips farther to take another dose of whatever it was. But then Jess was forced to swallow, and the sensation switched from his tongue to his stomach, and there, it turned bitter. No answer was going to come out, at least not right now. Whether it was one of the guards looking his way or his conscience that strangely wore the same face as Slim nibbling at him Jess didn't know, but with a forceful jerk, he was out of Timmy's clasp.

His lips no longer imitating pleasure, Timmy gave Jess' shoulder a menacing pat. "Don't wait too long to think it over, Harper. It's happening sooner than anyone can guess."

"When?"

"I don't even know. But when the bullets start falling, that's it."

"You got someone on the outside, don't you?"

Timmy's hand displayed all five fingers. "More than one. Come on, Harper. I know you want out."

"Who doesn't?"

His smile finally genuine, Timmy nodded. "Now you understand. With all of us going for the door, it can happen. With a man like you in the lead, it's sure to happen. Say it, and it'll be done."

"No."

"Say it!" He hissed in his ear so strong Jess expected to get snake bit.

"No."

"If you don't do this, Harper, you'll regret it. You'll regret it forever, or at least until you die."

"That's fine with me."

"But are you fine with Sherman dying?" He knew the guard was coming, but Timmy couldn't stop without putting one last punch into Jess' soul. "Are you?"

.:.

Unable to sleep, Jess rolled back and forth on his bunk. There was never a comfortable position, but Jess wasn't searching for a cozier edge to nestle in. He was searching for his voice of reason, and no matter how hard his body tossed, Jess couldn't find it, couldn't hear it, because Slim was beyond his reach on Yuma's most despicable side.

Jess wanted to kick Timmy. Obviously that thought had existed before this night, but right now, Jess wanted to do more than flatten him. Why did he have to flap his jaw about a potential breakout to him this afternoon? If Jess didn't know about it, he wouldn't be stewing about it. Although, this didn't feel quite like the normal bubble and spit of a worrier's stew pot. The way it was prickling more than his insides, Jess was beginning to wonder if this feeling would come closer to being labeled as desire.

Jess had wanted out before he was even locked up. Every man behind bars in this place would say the same. Jess would go so far as to say that Slim would even agree to being one of them. But would Slim break the law to get what he wanted, even if it was the law that threw him into Yuma in the first place?

As much as Jess tried to picture it, he couldn't see his partner agreeing to Timmy's word. His own hide, now that was a different subject. Jess was willing to take off, and likely he would have shaken hands with Timmy if it was only his rotting carcass behind bars. But Jess had to think of Slim. He had to think of Slim!

Considering the kind of man Slim was, the kind of character he lived up to be, it was easy to hear the descriptions of Slim Sherman rolling through his head. Clean cut, polished, honest as the day is long, and Jess' favorite, the name he tagged his partner himself, a spotless glass of sassparilla.

But then again, those very descriptions proved that Slim didn't belong in this hole. There was something else that they proved. Slim definitely couldn't do this kind of work alone. He didn't have the experience, the clout, or the names that Jess did.

While Jess had tried to scrub his past away, no amount of soap could get it done. He was stuck with who he was, and that was all right. He might punch someone for saying it, but Jess wasn't ashamed of being called a never-do-well or a bad penny. And then there was what Sam Bronson had tacked on his hide. How did that go again? It was something that raised Jess' hackles up and then softened them again, because it turned out that the man was right. Jess nodded as the memory returned. A half-baked Texas cowboy. That might have been true some months back, but not anymore. Being in Yuma had baked him the rest of the way.

He could use that hardened character to get out of Yuma, to get Slim out. All he had to do was agree with Timmy and it could be done. Guaranteed, Timmy had said. And while the heat rising inside of him was definitely desire instead of stew, suddenly Jess thought of the mile long graveyard. Getting a placement among the tombstones wasn't being set free. It could happen. To one of them, to both. While going out together might not sound all that terrible, it might not be that way at all. If one of them would die during an escape, which one would it be? He couldn't bear the thought of burying Slim, and Jess couldn't bear the thought of Slim burying him.

He couldn't do it. Wouldn't do it. But oh, how he wanted to!

Jess' teeth in a tight grit, he barely pushed out his signature sound. "Dadgum."

"Something's bothering you, Son."

It was impossible to search for Davey's eyes in the dark, yet Jess still turned his head toward the whisper. "How can you tell?"

"Your bunk's creaking worse than my bones."

"Sorry. I'll lay on the floor then. Can't sleep anyway."

"None of us can."

Pillow tossed down, Jess paused before he scrunched it underneath his head. "Why?"

"We all feel it coming. Like Christmas, but only better."

Creeping to the bars, Jess looked up and down the corridor. Just as he couldn't see Davey, Jess couldn't see anyone else, but he didn't have to read the expressions on each face to understand. There was an unusual tension in the room. As there wasn't a single snore breaking through the eerie silence, Jess knew Davey was right. No one was asleep. They were all awake, listening, hoping, maybe even praying as they waited with eager expectation of what was to come, whatever it was. And as Jess pulled his pillow to cushion the bars from his head, he realized he was doing it too.

"Dadgum. It's true."

Davey crept to their shared wall and put a hand through the bars, trying to reach for any part of Jess' body. He found his foot and held on. "You know something, don't you?"

"No," Jess lied.

"You do. I can feel it. Right there, you trembled."

"No. That's just me squirming because I haven't had a bath in over a month."

"I know liars, Jess, and you ain't very good at it."

"Dadgum. I'm supposed to be."

"Not when there's something this important going on. Listen to it, Jess."

He had been. Ever since Davey pointed it out, he couldn't hear anything except the anticipation, and curse the fact that his inner being was singing it just as loudly as the rest of the prisoners. But was Slim humming along?

"It sounds good, Jess. All our heartbeats are one. Even yours."

While he should have been kicking his leg free, Jess merely shook his head instead. "I ain't one of you. Not really."

"You are, Son. You're in Yuma, ain't you?"

"I reckon."

"Then tell me." He tugged on the worn boot, adding emphasis to his plea. "What do you know?"

"Nothing."

His breath coming out hot, it made the whispered hiss sizzle. "When's it happening?"

"I don't know."

Letting Jess' foot go, his hand clapped against the nearest bar. "That's not what I wanted to hear."

"It's the truth."

"Well," Davey said, letting a full minute pass before letting the rest of it out. "At least we know it's coming. Are you with us?"

"I don't know."

"We need you, Jess. You've got something the rest of us don't."

"Yeah. I've gotta partner on the other side."

"And I don't? Are you forgetting my son? I haven't forgotten him in eight years. Not once in eight years!"

"Shhhhh," came several calls from both sides of the corridor. "They'll hear you!"

Davey's face fell into his hands. "I'm sorry. I just… I just can't take it much more. Eight, long years!"

His own corner of the cell reached, Jess felt through the barred doorways until he could lay his hand on a shuddering shoulder. "I know. I wish I could help, but I can't."

"You can."

"How?"

"Team up with us. If we fight as one, they can't defeat us."

"I'll think about it."

"There might not be any time! I thought you could feel it, Jess? It's right in front of us!"

Letting go of the shoulder, Jess placed his back against the solid wall and looked up into the never-changing darkness. He could feel it, and what was more, Jess didn't want to turn away from it. He wanted to agree, he wanted to pump his fist into the air and promise to lead the procession down the hallway, killing and fighting every step of the way if need be. But as Jess lowered his lashes, he couldn't help but groan.

If only he could hear his voice of reason.

.:.

The call for work duty sounded, Jess stepped to the bars expecting to be told to turn the hard ground over again, but Moose merely grunted at him as he went by. Maybe his injury would be put to good use after all. This way he wouldn't have to be forced to speak with Timmy. At breakfast he had purposely stayed close to Davey and Crawdad. He wasn't necessarily hiding, as it was known that the oldest men in the prison always ate together in silence, and that was what Jess sought the most, silence. He had got what he wanted from their presence, for Timmy kept his distance.

There was nothing that was going to stop him now.

Once again taking the call of work duty, Timeon loudly clanked the chains as he made number twenty-two's approach. There he paused, for some reason everyone paused along with him, and Timmy's dark eyes bore into Jess' blue. Knowing that the prisoner wanted his word, Jess kept his stance solid. He wouldn't blink, he wouldn't offer any form of commitment. He still didn't know what decision to make.

But just like Davey predicted, it really was right in front of them. A vital part that Jess wasn't able to see because he wasn't out on work duty was happening during the burial of Yuma's latest victims. But as nothing inside or out changed, the waiting continued. Every hour the tension grew thicker, the air grew hotter. As if a violent storm cloud was brewing over the entire prison, every man stood at his cell with eyes wide, ears alert, waiting for the crack of lightning and the resounding thunder.

It came as a bullet. But not one. There must have been hundreds of them falling. While that had been Timmy's description of how it would start, he must have missed the word of how it really would be. It sounded more like the walls were coming down. Everything was shaking, even the arms and legs of men who had been bound far too long, for along with the bullet's sharp rumble was the thunderous applause of everyone willing to run once they were set free.

The first was just now making his break.

Hearing the very close blast, Jess bent his head in the direction, catching the moment the body hit the floor. "Looks like Timmy kept his word, all right."

Moose was dead.

Somehow he had got his hands on a derringer, but now that Moose was destined to be a part of Yuma's landscape, Timmy took the guard's rifle in his clasp and then he swung the keys to the prisoner in cell number one. His cell unlocked, he ran down the line, crying a victory whoop with every stop he made. One after one the cell doors flew open and men flew out, and then he turned the lock over on number twenty-two. For a moment Jess stood there. The bars had whined and then went silent, allowing him to race to his freedom, yet Jess was still trapped, stuck in the battle of decision.

In one more second his mind would be made up for him. At a shot, he ran into the corridor and looked down. Another guard was dead and another rifle was seized. The group of prisoners was like a pack of dogs, running to have a taste of the kill. The hand holding the keys now holding a solid iron, he raced for the next corridor to let another pack attack.

One foot perched on the dead man, Timmy waved them on. "Hurry! Everyone this way before any more of them come! They can't beat us!"

His steps not as swiftly taken as the men in front of him, Jess was the last to leave the row of cells. He almost knelt at the guard to check for a pulse, but one look was all he needed. A man like Timeon wasn't going to kill a man softly.

But neither were the guards.

The next corridor's escape must not have gone smoothly, for it wasn't a uniform that Jess was forced to step over, but a pair of bodies in stripes. While he had never got the man's name, Jess recognized the man that sat across from his cell, but the other he didn't know. He had never seen this prisoner before, and Jess couldn't help but wonder if he had come from the other side of Yuma.

Suddenly Jess broke through the crowd, running in the opposite direction of the swarm to reach the place where the lonely, troublemakers lived. "Slim!"

Another corridor being let loose, they tore at him like a whirlwind. Smacking him into the wall, Jess tossed his head to ward off his stupor. That was when he saw the uniform covered in blood start to rise. The guard wasn't dead yet. As no one had lifted the rifle, the guard was taking it in hand, shooting without aim, just so that he was taking prisoners down. Three were instantly killed beside him.

Running, somehow defying the bullets that came at him, Jess jumped over a body and hollered until his throat ached. "Slim!"

The return call wasn't what he expected.

"Deuce!"

Hearing a father's scream, Jess spun. It wasn't hard to tell which man among the pack was Davey Bragg, Jr. It also wasn't hard to tell which man was in the direct line of fire. Deuce was about to take a fatal bullet. Hurrying back the way he had just come from, Jess grabbed Deuce by the waist and tossed him into the crowd. Deuce fought, but Jess kept him down, pinning him to the floor as he placed his body as a protective shield over him. At least Jess hoped that would be the outcome.

Men dropping all around him, blood sprayed onto his stripes. Knowing he didn't take any lead, Jess looked into the wild set of eyes underneath him. So that was why it felt so hot. Deuce had been hit in the arm, but he was alive. As long as he didn't make another break for it, he would stay that way.

Prisoners and guards going by him in a blur, Jess was surprised when someone broke through the haze and landed by his side. It was Davey.

"Pa!"

"Stay down and stay with him," Jess said, and getting back on his feet he wouldn't turn back to see if his command was being obeyed. All he could do was search the frenzied faces for Slim's steady and sure expression. "Slim!"

Not finding any sign of his partner, Jess' chest began to heave with panic. Had he already been hit? There were men on the ground, some dead, some picking themselves out of their bloody pools to try again for freedom. What if Slim was one of them? He started to pause at each body but then he picked up his pace again. If Jess stopped to look at each face he passed, he would never get through the prison before the earth stopped shaking.

They had to get out of Yuma!

"Slim?" Jess' feet went silent amid the gunfire as he hurried down a vacant corridor. He had no idea if he was in the right one, but it didn't matter. He would tear through every single hallway if he had to. "Slim!"

A new corridor must have been set free, for a new group of men began to swarm around him. But that also meant a new group of guards would be coming too if they hadn't been killed first. It was obvious by the rush of smoke and fire that they hadn't. Bullets bouncing off walls, Jess dropped to his knees as a piece of lead came close to clipping a straight line through his hair.

Right beside him was a body, face down in his blood. And Jess trembled beside the blonde head. "Slim?"

Although his heart was hammering out the fear that this was his truth, Jess wouldn't have to cup each cheek to turn the man's head over to know for certain. Hearing the stride he would have recognized inside the darkest night, Jess saw the familiar frame above him.

"Jess!"

Racing to Slim's side, Jess' eyes gave him a hurried glance. No blood. "You all right?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Let's go."

Slim caught his partner's arm. "No, Jess. We can't."

"But Slim, you busted loose. If you didn't wanna go, why didn't you just stay in your cell?"

"I needed to come look for you, to stop you from getting your head blown off. I've already seen more than one man not ever going to get up again."

He found the blonde head on the floor and cringed. "I know."

"Then let's get back to the cells where it's safe."

"No, Slim. It's wide open. I heard someone say the entire south wall's been blown down. All we gotta do is get to the whipping grounds and we can run free. Free!"

"No, Jess."

Jess' eyes held fast to the blue across from him, but strangely enough, he was coming close to breaking their solid connection. "Well, then, I'm going without you!"

"Jess, don't do it!"

"Then come with me! Please!"

"You'll die. You'll get nowhere, Jess. Look at that man right beside us. You'll die just like him!"

"Dadgummit, Slim! Do I gotta knock you out so we can get outta here?"

"You'll have to do more than that, Jess, because I'm not going to escape."

"You dadgummed spotless glass of sassparilla! I'm running and you better run with me!"

His answer hadn't changed, but as Jess started his escape route down the hall toward the ground where the whipping posts stood, Slim ran beside his partner. No matter what he considered right and wrong, no matter his fear of what was waiting for them, Slim was unable to let Jess take it on alone.

"Come on, Slim. We're almost there. I can feel it."

So could Slim, but he sensed that what his partner was feeling and what was going on in his own gut were two different things. Slim expected death was right around the corner. For both of them. Gunfire rang, so fast and loud there was no distinguishing how many bullets were thrown. Somehow, the screams of those that were hit rose above the thunderous roar. It was in that moment that Slim couldn't just sense what was coming, he could see it. The body that went down just ahead of them was dead before he fell.

He grabbed for Jess, but his reach was too short. "Jess. It's not the right way. I know you want it, but it's not the right way."

A retort so close on his tongue he could have fired it off with spit, Jess looked at Slim, and suddenly he heard his voice of reason. But Jess could also say there was another voice in play, and it wasn't in his head. He heard Davey, crying over a son he hadn't seen in eight years and Jess' feet slid to a halt where Deuce lay. He would go no further. Neither of them would escape this day, maybe never, for Slim had come to a stop beside him.

Jess stared at the tears that were sitting inside of each wrinkle. "You all right, Davey?"

He nodded over and over and over again. "You saved my boy. You saved my boy!"

Fingering the wound, he gave Deuce's arm a gentle squeeze. "It'll be all right, especially since the bullet went straight through. Now the doc don't gotta carve anything out. Believe me, that fella's knife ain't a nice thing."

"You don't belong here, Jess Harper," Davey said, the admiration strong in both his eyes and voice.

"I reckon not. But I'm here, ain't I?"

"So why didn't you escape when you had the chance?"

"I've gotta friend that wouldn't let me," Jess answered, motioning his head toward Slim.

"It's a good thing he was there. You woulda never made it through the outside door. Look."

He hadn't realized until that moment that the gunfire had stopped. It was over. At least the part about pulling triggers and the unfortunate men that had been in the way of each bullet. What was left, that may never be deemed as being done.

In horror, they watched as wounded men were carried past them to the infirmary. The conscious hollered as they went by, from agony, but also the sound being pulled out of their throats told of their disgust at being dragged back into Yuma. And then there were the silent ones. They looked like they were ready for the burial grounds, but because guards had a hand on them, they must have been breathing. As the lifeless bodies near them were being ignored, likely the large number of dead scattered throughout the prison would remain where they had fallen, only to fall one more time into their graves.

Feeling Slim's nudge, Jess followed his glance, eyes widening as Timeon was carted by. With more than one bullet staining his front, if he wasn't dead now, he would be when the doctor was done with him. Strange, but Jess felt sorry for the man. As if the bloody image suddenly made Jess' stomach remember its horrific ache, Jess' hand felt his middle. Feeling the ragged line underneath his prison shirt, Jess could have let a haughty remark fly off his tongue, telling the unconscious man that he got hit by a leaden ball of retaliation.

He didn't even let the thought sink past his skull. Not when another, more difficult truth entered Jess' mind.

That could have been him. If Jess had agreed to Timmy's terms, he would have been right beside the man. Those very bullets, and more like them, could have hammered into Jess' hide even worse.

Needing to see something other than red, Jess turned to the only thing in Yuma that was steady, Slim's blue. "Slim, I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to, Jess. You being alive is enough."

"Yeah. But we still got so much more of hell to walk through."

And those very fires would come a lot sooner than any of them wanted to think. A loud stomp heard the entire length of the hallway, the men that huddled in their corner watched as Hogan made his approach. Carrying his rifle like it was a broom, he swung it left and right as if he were sweeping the floor of the prisoners that weren't meant for the infirmary or the graveyard.

"All right, you filthy rags," Hogan barked loud enough to make more than one echo cry. "Get back to your cells. And no backtalk, nothing! Or you'll get whacked like you were nothing but a fly."

Standing, Jess gave Davey his hand to help the older man regain his feet. "Glad it wasn't no worse for you two."

"You obviously didn't hear me right, Harper!"

The rifle coming at him, Davey purposely got in its way and took the blow to his chin. Jess' hands out in defense, he quickly released his fists to catch Davey before he fell back to the ground. Hanging onto the older man, Jess squared his jaw for whatever else Hogan would toss at them, but all the man did was scrunch up his face with his most formidable glare.

"What do you think you're doing, Bragg?"

"Helping a friend."

"Learn how to help yourself, then. Get to your cell! All of you, move it! If your numbers aren't filled in ten seconds flat, you'll be in the same shape as those you hear screaming from the infirmary."

Knowing that pain firsthand, Jess hurried toward the corridor that housed his particular number twenty-two. But then he was stopped as if Hogan's threat had exploded in his being. Something must have hit him just as severely, for Jess felt his body starting to rock back and forth.

Turning his head, Jess barely squeaked out his partner's name as he watched Hogan's rifle jab into his chest. "Slim?"

"What're you doing, Sherman? You don't belong down here anymore."

"I thought maybe I could go back to my old cell. It's still empty, isn't it?"

"That doesn't matter. You've been branded as a troublemaker, and troublemakers belong on the other side."

"Aren't we all troublemakers? We all tried to escape, didn't we?"

"You talk way too smart mouthed to suit me, Sherman. Maybe I should dent your teeth in so you can't talk anymore."

"Don't push him, Slim," Jess warned, but in his tone was also fear. If Hogan used any part of his rifle to hurt Slim, Jess wouldn't be able to hold still. And that would turn that weapon on him. "What's the purpose of you stopping me a bit ago, just to die right now?"

Understanding made Slim nod his head. "I'll go."

"You too, Junior. Your wound isn't bad enough to bother the doc with," Hogan said as he waved another guard over. "Dorcy, get them moving back to their hallowed hall."

Unwilling to move away from Jess, Slim kept his stance until the rifle was no longer sitting against his chest, but crashing into his entire front. The next command was unheard for the air whooshing out of Slim's lungs, but as his eyes were widened in surprise, he saw Jess lunge toward Hogan. The only thing stopping his partner from tearing into the man with the rifle wasn't the fact that Hogan was holding onto a rifle. Davey grabbed at his arm, and in that single action, likely saved Jess' life. Slim would do the same, even if it meant he would never see his partner ever again. Taking a step backward and then another, Slim was finally moving in a steady rhythm away from Jess. He might have kept his pace all the way to his new number if the man beside him didn't suddenly turn back, crying as if he was being pulled away from one of the dead men on the floor.

In reality, that might have been an easier thing to endure.

"Pa!"

It was only natural to return the shout. "Deuce!"

"Pa! Don't let them take me away!"

Eyes as pleading as they had ever been, Davey turned toward Hogan. "You can't separate us again, you just can't!"

"Sorry, Bragg. The warden makes the rules, not me."

"Pa, please!"

Their corridor in front of them, Davey lowered his head. "I'm sorry, Son. There's nothing I can do."

"Pa!"

The shout going silent as the door of their corridor went closed behind them, Davey realized he needed to hear the sound of his son's voice at least one more time. "Deuce!"

It was dimmer, but it still came. "Pa!"

The back and forth exchange was filled with so much grief that anyone with a decent set of ears would have their heart broken. Already being busted enough that he could never properly piece himself back together, Jess' heart began to shatter all around him. With nothing solid holding onto him anymore, Jess' lips began to quiver. A breath going in, he tried to harden his body with every memory of his past. It wasn't going to work. The only memory his mind could recreate was Slim. And that he was being torn away from him, the same as a son was being torn away from his father, for so many years that it might as well be called forever.

Suddenly, just like the man next to him, Jess couldn't hold onto his cry any longer. "Slim!"

"Jess!"

Hearing the tearful sound of his name, Jess offered a louder repeat. "Slim!"

Over and over they called, Slim to Jess and back again, Davey to Deuce and back again, and every time a mouth was opened, the sound coming out was more painful than the one before. The separation growing, it was getting harder to hear each return. And then there was no sound except a cell key turning in four different locks.

Heads bowed, forbidden tears were allowed to flow, for a father who had just lost a son. And a brother who had just lost the same.