The Warden's Son

8/14/2019 The Warden's Son

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The Wardens SonJared Wolf


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Chapter 1June 2008

Bhanu Sihgnsat quietly behind the cash register at the convenient store that his familyowned. He looked at the bright red numbers on the dusty VCR under the counter. It was10:18pm. The shop had been vacant for a short while, but Bhanu occupied his time by flippingthrough a newspaper he grabbed out of the rack by the automatic front doors.

Apparently, the previous day had been quite eventful. Three senior citizens were foundstoned in a burning building. One of the seniors unnamed grandsons, who had been living at thehome, had a large stash of marijuana hidden by the furnace in a paper bag. Then, anotheroctogenarian woman turned up the heat, thus lighting the bag on fire filling the home withintoxicating smoke.

Another article was describing the intense drama of the upcoming 2008 presidentialelection. The media was swarming around how the predicted democratic nomination wouldeither be a black man or a white woman. Obama or Clinton? The republicans, however, had allof the stereotypical old white guys just inching past each in the polls.

Bhanuwas a fifty three year old Indian immigrant. He had silver, neatly parted to theright. His dark brown face had wrinkled along his forehead and his mouth which framed hiswhite mustache. He wore a maroon checkered cotton shirt, tucked into a pair of navy corduroypants, finished with a pair of black leather shoes.

He was about to begin restocking the soda in the back of the store when his attention wasrefocused to a small speaker above the front door. It made an electronic tone, similar to adoorbell. A man walked through the sliding doors.

He was much taller than Bhanu, but then again Bhanuwas only five foot four. The blackman looked to be about six foot one, maybe six foot two. Bhanucould see how muscular hisbody was under his black short sleeved t-shirt. It had a grey face printed on the front. SylvesterStallone, no, Al Pacino. Bhanu didnt keep up with all of the Hollywood movies, so it might aswell have been Robin Williams.

As the customer walked by, Bhanucould hear loud rap music blaring from the mansheadphones. The man was mindlessly mumbling the words to the song.

Bhanusfocus didnt leave the man for several minutes. The customer walked through theaisles, grabbing a bag of chips and some sodas. All the while Bhanu kept his hand on a handgunon the first shelf under the counter.

He wasnt going to be held up by some gang banger, not tonight. Not again. He hadworked too hard to bring his wife and children to this country and he didnt bring them here justto be bullied by society.

A second time the electronic speaker resonated as a second customer walked in. This guyhe felt much better about. He was a white guy in his mid thirties. He was wearing jeans and ablack windbreaker. He walked right past Bhanu, taking a quick glance before continuing to the

refrigerated beverages.The black customer walked up to the counter and set down a few bags of sour cream and

onion chips and four cans of Red Bull. Bhanu reluctantly lifted his hand off of the gun andbegan punching numbers into the cash register.

Sixteen fifty four. He said. The man reached behind him. Bhanuquickly grabbed hisgun again. He almost felt guilty of his suspicion, but he wasnt going to take any chances. Theman pulled out several folded twenties, setting one on the counter. Bhanu gave the man his


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change, glad that he was about to leave. The man began to walk out when he heard the whitecustomers voice from behind him.

Dont leave yet. His voice was strange. The man turned around wondering why thisguy was bothering him. The white man walked in front of Bhanu, but still faced the othercustomer.

What do you want, man? the black man asked annoyed. The white man neveranswered. Instead he reached into his windbreaker and pulled out a gun. Still looking at theblack man, he lifted the gun to his side, pointing it directly at Bhanu. Before Bhanu even had achance to grab his own gun, the man fired four shots right into Bhanus chest.

He collapsed onto the floor. He tried to take a breath, but began coughing. He tasted hisown warm blood and felt drops of it run down the side of his face. There were no more shots, nomore words; just silence and an intense burning that seemed to be coming from his entire body.He knew this would be his last moments on earth.

He quickly tried to picture his wife and his four children, three daughters and a son.Finally it was over, and he didnt hurt anymore. He had left this world.

Better run. The killer told the other man, whose eyes were wide and afraid. Hedropped the potato chips and soda and bolted out of the door, just as the killer had planned. This

wasnt about money, or some vengeful resentment towards the cashier. This was bigger thaneither of those two could understand. It had begun.

Chapter 2May 1976

The relentless pounding at her front door had finally gotten out of hand. Rosalyn moaned asshe forced herself off her couch and walked out of the living room out to the front door. Eachthud grew louder as the pounding continued.

Rosalyn looked through the dining room at the clock on the kitchen microwave. It was11:16p.m. Who had the nerve to bother her at this hour? She wondered.

Thud, thud, thud.Rosalyn peered through the window on the side of her door, but only saw the cement stairs

leading down to the rain covered city streets. Whoever this person was, they were standing tooclose to the door to be seen.

She wasnt going to put up with any late night sales men or Jehovahs Witnesses tonight.Thud, thud, thud.The old, loose metal doorknob rattled with each hit. Finally she opened the door, surprised to

see a familiar face before her. Roger was a thirty-something African American man. She knewhim from the local hardware store, where he worked, but more recently as the six monthboyfriend of her best friend Sheryl.

He was a tall stringy man, though it was hard to tell due to the heavy brown trench coat hewas wearing. He had prematurely graying hair, but it was still in the salt and pepper stage. Buthis most outstanding features were his eyes and his smile, both soft, but both very kind.

He quickly admired Rosalyns model good looks, the kind of beauty usually hiddensomewhere deep in the heart of Africa, before taking another step forward, allowing the lightfrom inside to reach his face.

Roger? What are you doing here? She asked, puzzled by her unexpected visitor.I, uh.He paused and smiled awkwardly. Actually, I need a place to stay. He gazed into

Rosalyns eyes, and before she even had a chance to think about it, she had made up her mind.Roger had mastered using his eyes and smile to sway people, part of the reason he was such askilled sales clerk.


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I didnt notice the bed and breakfast sing in front of my house. Tell me why I should let youstay here? She knew that she sounded harsh but they both knew she would end up letting himin.

Sheryl and I got into a fight. She kindakicked me out. I know shell cool down, she didntthrow any appliances at me. He paused. I just need a night or two. Then Im gone. Scoutshonor. He held up the three middle fingers on his hand, imitating a boy scout.

Rosalyn silently moved away from the doorway, allowing him to enter her urban apartment.Shoes! she warned as he began to walk into the house, leaving wet, dirty footprints on the

hardwood floor. He smiled warmly at her then glanced down as he kicked off his rain saturatedloafers onto a small brown mat, next to an inexpensive pair of heels.

And jacket. Roger wordlessly complied, hanging his coat on a wooden coat rack behindthe door. Make yourself at home, Rog.

Rosalyn strolled through the living room back into the kitchen and fixed herself a mug ofsteaming hot chocolate. She walked back into the living room.

Hey Roger, do you want but she didnt bother finishing her sentence. Roger was alreadyspread out in all directions on the couch, fast asleep.

This is what I get for opening my home to somebody. She thought sarcastically. Not even a

bit of small talk and hes already stolen my TV seat.She took a small sip of the sweet hot chocolate before walking over to the television.It was already late, and she really should watch television at this hour. Walter Cronkite was

doing a brief segment, marking the sixth anniversary of the Kent State Shootings in Ohio.Rosalyn turned the knob beside the screen and the reporters face disappeared in an evanescentwhite light. Then the entire apartment was dark, but Rosalyn had no trouble finding her way upthe creaky stairs to her bedroom.

Thank God tomorrow is Sunday. I really need this day off from work. Ooh! And I getMonday off too. She remembered, thinking about the painters would be coming in on Monday,and the restaurant where she worked would be closed. She smiled happily as her eyelids gentlyfell as her head sank into the pillow.

Chapter 3Rosalyn dozed in a trance between dreams and consciousness, the ultimate feeling ofrelaxation. It was a sunny Monday morning, closer to afternoon. It was already 10:22 in themorning. Rosalyn couldnt remember the last time she had slept this late, not for months. Sherolled over, letting the sun coming through the window hit her bare back.

In what only seemed like seconds the radio turned on and calming jazz resonated through thespeakers. It was already 10:30. Rosalyn had always set the alarm on weekends, ever optimisticthat she would one day be asleep long enough to use it. But today was one of the rare occasionswhere she could.

Roger had been out for most of the day on Sunday, at work at the hardware store. Today hewould be downstairs though. His shift on Mondays was 2:00 to midnight. Rosalyn got out of

bed and wrapped herself in a fuzzy royal blue bathrobe, one of the few nice and not previouslyowned things she owned.She made her way downstairs to find Roger sitting on the couch, watching the morning news.

He only had on a white undershirt, speckled with little green fuzzes from sleeping on the couch.He also had on denim jeans and a pair of socks that looked like they had been walked in for thebetter part of the century. This is probably what she had slept in that night.

Hey Rog. She mumbled as she walked behind him, towards the kitchen.Good morning, sleepy. He teased.


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Im usually not this much of a sloth. She went into the kitchen and opened a cabinet.You want some coffee? she said loud enough so he could hear from the other room.

I already went out earlier. I would have grabbed you some but I didnt want to wake you.Thank you though.

Roger was such a charmer. Even with Sheryls leash around his neck, he still wasuncommonly polite to Rosalyn. Who said chivalry was dead. Rosalyn wondered how he andSheryl could have gotten into a fight so awful that she would kick him out.

Rosalyn hadnt talked with her friend about the issue yet, and Roger only mentioned thatthere was a fight. He had insisted that Rosalyn not call, just give Sheryl some time to cool down.

But she didnt want to just ignore her friend either. It was very conflicting. Ignoring herwould mean she was being a bad friend, but how would Sheryl react if Rosalyn told her that shehad taken Roger in? Would she get the cold shoulder as well? She would have to find out aboutRoger sooner or later. The sooner, the better. She decided

Im going to go over and see how Sheryls doing in a little bit. She said to Roger as shewalked back into the living room.

Please, Rosalyn. I really dont think thats such a good idea. He said quickly.I want her to know that Im there for her. Shes like a sister to me. She put on as much of

a sad puppy dog face as she could without being overly obvious. Roger let out a heavy sigh.Listen. Ill go over there tomorrow and see if I can straighten things out. If I cant, Ive got

a friend one town over wholl let me stay with him.Its not that I want you to leave. I just want everything to be okay again.Rosalyn spent a few hours cleaning the house, dusting and vacuuming. As she was running

the vacuum along the runner in the first floor hallway she heard a noise. She turned off themachine in her hand, letting the roar turn into a gentle hum, and then into silence and listenedagain. For a moment there was nothing, then, just as she was about to resume her cleaning, therewas a knock at the door.

Rosalyn opened it, not sure of whom she should expect, but the police were definitely not onthe list.

But there they were. Three white officers dressed in solid blue uniforms, complete withbadges and all. There was one standing right by the door, a short, rather hefty man with veryshort brown hair. His name tag read Officer Peter Storrs. The other two looked like they couldhave been brothers. Both were very tall, at least 62. One had jet black hair and the other hadred hair, barely visible under his police cap.

Can I help you, officer? Rosalyn asked, pulling the sides of her bathrobe closer together inan attempt to cover herself up. She was about as confused as she could be right now. She hadntseen anything, and she knew she hadnt done anything. So why were they here?

Maam.The heavy officer began. We are looking for a Mr. Roger England. We wereinformed that he might be staying at this residence. The policemans stare was so focused thatit was almost like he were telepathically pushing her.

Hey Roger.Rosalyn called back into the house. Can you come here for a second?

A moment later he emerged from the living room, wearing black dress pants and a dress shirtonly buttoned down halfway. He was still barefoot. He was halfway down the hall, still tryingto tie his tie, when he saw who was at the door.

His eyes opened wide and he stood paralyzed for only a second before he ripped off his tieand bolted backwards towards the kitchen. Rosalyn jumped backwards as well, going throughthe dining room. They arrived simultaneously. Rosalyn tried to jump in front of him to stop, orat least slow him, but he pushed her back.


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Her skull cracked against the corner of a cabinet. Before she knew it, she was down on herknees, holding the back of her head in agony. She didnt even hear the sound of the screen doorslamming behind Roger as he raced into the small, fenced in, back yard.

Officer Storrs rushed past her, as did the officer with the red hair. The black haired officer,however, stopped and knelt beside her, putting his hand gently on her shoulder. Are you alright,maam?

Rosalyn let out a pain filled sigh. I dont know. She paused for a moment. Whydoyou want Roger?

We have reason to believe that he is connected with a murder. The officer informed her.A murder? That cant be possible. Roger would never kill anybody. He couldnt. It wasnt

in him.What murder? Rosalyn mumbled.The body of a woman was found in an apartment yesterday afternoon. He said. Her name

was Sheryl Fox.

Chapter 4Roger had barely made it over the rusty chain-link fence, separating Rosalyn and her

neighbors back yards, when he heard the footsteps of the police rushing down the wooden stairs,chasing him.Stop!Police! one of them shouted, but Roger darted into another yard as quickly as he

could without looking back. Hopefully he could make it to the other end of the block withoutgetting caught. After that, he might just be able to hide. He was pretty sure he could outrun thepoliceman, or policemen.

He continued through another yard, past a plastic childrens slide and some patio furniture.His feet began to hurt. He had almost forgotten that he wasnt wearing any shoes.

This wasnt supposed to happen.Roger thought as he sprinted as fast as possible across astreet into more yards. I never meant for this to happen. I didnt mean to hit her that hard. Ididnt even want to hit her.

He recalled the fight that he and Sheryl were having. She was saying that he just sponged off

of her, repeatedly calling him a freeloader, just because his hours had been reduced at thehardware store and he couldnt pay for as much.

She shrieked at him to earn more money or get out and he just lost it and shoved herbackwards. She lost her footing and went down, hitting her head sideways on the coffee table.

The sound of her neck breaking had been haunting him for the last three days. He didntknow how he had been able to act so natural, even though he honestly felt like he was goingmad.

He wasnt sure how far he had run, but he was becoming worn out, and his feet were killinghim. But he couldnt give up. He wasnt going to spend the rest of his life in a jail cellsomewhere because of an accident.

He pushed as far as he could go. His legs felt like they were literally on fire, and the dark

dress pants cooking them werent helping much.Finally he couldnt go any further. And he stopped, for the first time, and looked backwards.One redheaded officer was getting very close. Another heavier officer wasnt far behind. Nowwas the moment of truth. And Rogers last resort.

Chapter 5Officer Timothy Moore was only about a hundred feet behind the suspect, Roger England.

He was taken aback by the way the man could run, even on pavement, without any shoes.I guess its different for him. He thought. Im running for my job. Hes running for his life.


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He continued to chase the suspect across several streets and through countless yards,undoubtedly surprising anybody who happened to be outside at the time.

Suddenly the suspect slowed down to a jog, then a few steps walking, before coming to acomplete stop on the sidewalk of a residential street, half hidden behind a banged up pickuptruck. Moore didnt know what to expect next, but he seriously doubted that the suspect wasgoing to give up, just like that.

Put your hands above your head! Moore called, trying hard not to sound too out of breath,but this guy had given him a good run.

The suspect wasnt looking directly at Moore, but in his general direction. The man duckedbehind the red pickup and disappeared from sight. Even the mans feet were hidden behind theback right wheel or the vehicle.

Come out with your hands up. He had never said that before. He had always imaginedthat he would feel like some hotshot cop like in the movies, but there was so much adrenalinpumping through his body that he couldnt think about anything but what this man was about todo.

Suddenly there was a flash and a bang from just above the bed of the pickup. A gunshot.Then another. Moore ducked behind a car on the opposite side of the street. By the time he was

safely guarded five blind shots had been fired.He looked up at the two-family house he was in front of. A mother was rushing inside with

her infant daughter. The young Hispanic woman let out a scream, more of a whimper really asshe slammed the wooden door behind her. There was a bullet hole in the wood of the doorframe.Either of those two people could have just been killed. And there were still others that were stillin danger. Thats when Officer Moore upholstered his own gun and cocked it.

EVERYBODY. GET INSIDE! Moore shouted.Three more shots were fired, and then a pause. Moore stood up and moved towards the

vehicle. He walked over by the drivers door where the suspect wouldnt be firing.He saw the mans black handinch over the edge of the car, gun drawn and aimed at where

Officer Moore had been only seconds ago. Moore took aim and shot, getting a good hit justabove the wrist. The suspect wouldnt be shooting with that hand anymore. He heard the mancry out in pain.

Silently Moore moved around the back of the pickup, gun drawn and facing the suspect. Healso had his gun drawn, but in his left hand. The suspects right arm was covered in crimsonblood that was now flowing down onto the beige sidewalk. His left hand, holding the gun, wasshaking. Suddenly Moore heard a gunshot. He looked down to see if he was hit, but he didntsee or feel anything. He knew that he didnt pull the trigger of his gun. So who was it?

The suspect looked straight at Moore for a moment and then collapsed backwards. OfficerStorrs stepped out from behind a car about sixty feet away, gun drawn. Storrs just saved my life.Moore thought, looking at the suspect.

People who had been peeking through their windows were now emerging from their homesto see the aftermath of the shootout. Gasps were taken and eyes widened when everybody

realized that Roger England was dead.

Chapter 6What? Rosalyn asked. Im sorry, I think I misheard you. She prayed intensely that she

had.We have reason to believe that Mr. England is related to the death of a Ms. Sheryl Fox. Im

sorry. Did you know her?


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Rosalyn didnt answer. She didnt even hear anything after her best friends name. All atonce her entire body ached. It almost felt as if her heart had completely stopped and gone intooverdrive in the same moment.

It felt as if she had been thrown into an arctic sea. Every part of her body began to stingwildly, but nothing and nobody could save her. It was impossible to save her from thatknowledge.

Sheryl, Rosalyns best friend was dead. There was no chance to even say goodbye. It was sounreal. Rosalyn curled up her legs and wrapped both arms around them, creating her owncocoon.

The officer instantly noticed a few drops of blood fall from her ring finger. He leaned backand was that the hair on the back of her head was matted down with blood from where Roger hadshoved her back.

Jesus. Thisll need some stitches. Rosalyn didnt pay him any attention. He stood up andlooked around the kitchen, grabbing some paper towels off of a roll by the sink. Then he wentinto the freezer and grabbed half a dozen ice cubes and made an improvised ice pack which heput onto her head. For a moment Rosalyn didnt seem to notice, but a few seconds later shereached up and held the ice against her head, tears still tumbling down her cheeks like an

avalanche of snow down an icy mountain.Now Maam, the officer said. Maam! he raised his voice enough to snap her attention

to him. Rosalyn looked up. Are you Rosalyn Evans? Without a word she nodded yes.Can you hear me alright? Any blurred vision? Dizziness? he questioned without breaking

eye contact with Rosalyn. She nodded no this time.Ah. Rosalyn began but her voice broke off. She took in a deep gasp then exhaled in

several pants. Im a little dizzy.Alright, well have you checked out. Now I need to ask you one more question. Its very

important that you answer honestly. Just look me straight in the eye. He paused to assure thatshe was doing what he asked. Once she finally gathered enough composure to look at him, hecontinued. Did you have any idea that Mr. England was in any kind of trouble with the law?

No. she honestly replied.Ms. Evans. Im going to make sure that you do not get into any trouble for what happened

over the past couple days, but right now, I need to take you to the police station. There is awarrant for your arrest for aiding and abetting.

Wait her voice was strained. Im being arrested. What did I do wrong? I got my goddamn head cracked open for trying to stop somebody for you and found out that my best friendwas killed by the man Ive pitied for the past few days. And now what? Im going to prison?

You hid Mr. England. Youre an accomplice. At least thats the way the law sees it. Illmake sure you dont do time though, but right now I need to take you back to the station. Trustme. If you just do exactly what youre told, without any argument, everyone will be a lot morewilling to be lenient and forgiving with you.

Rosalyn was much too emotionally warn out to argue with the officer. She stood up and

followed him to the front door. As they walked through the hallway, Rosalyn noticed thevacuum on the side of the hallway, thinking about how it was the last thing she had done beforethis nightmare had started, or at least, the last thing she did before she knew it was a nightmare.

The two police cars parked outside of the house had drawn a few spectators who were pokingtheir heads out of second story windows, hoping to be the first with the new gossip in town. Itwas humiliating to walk down the front steps wearing nothing but a bathrobe, being escorted bya cop nonetheless.


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You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in acourt of law. You have the right to have an attorney present during questioning. If you cannotafford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand? He said as he openedthe back door of the cruiser.

Yes. She mumbled as she slid into the fake leather back seat, still clutching the ice to herskull. The door closed with a thud and suddenly the rest of the world feltleft behind somehow,like there was no returning from this point.

The car slowly pulled out onto the street and Rosalyns home disappeared behind the corner.Rosalyn could see the sidewalk that Roger must have taken to her house immediately followinghis dark deed.

She felt so betrayed, and so lonely. How could Roger come to her, his victims best friend,and hope for hospitality? How could he look her in the eye and have no problem putting her insuch a situation? How could he push her into the cabinet like he did after opening her home tohim? It was inhuman.

Normally, Rosalyn would talk to Sheryl about this kind of drama in her life, but she wasntthere anymore. Rosalyn had to keep reminding herself of that. Never again could she confessany of lifes problems to her friend, nor could she offer an ear for Sheryl.

Just then, the cruiser passed a tall brick building that stretched along the entire block. Alongthe side of the building there were windows and small balconies that hung above one another.Although they were all eerily identical, it didnt take more than a second or two to spot whichapartment had been Sheryls. Suddenly, the entire world felt colder. It was a terrorizing thoughtthat Sheryl Fox had died behind those very windows.

Rosalyn had to turn away. She didnt want to hurt, didnt want to feel anything. She justwanted to feel numb.

Chapter 7November 1976

It was a rainy day, only six months after Roger died. It had looked almost bright for a whileafter what happened, all things considered. Unfortunately, Officer Rocco, the policeman whohad stopped to help her in her kitchen, wasnt able to keep his promise.

The court case didnt last long, and her state appointed lawyer had helped her as little as hecould. He often made stupid mistakes like forgetting the timeline of the events that unfoldedover those three days.

Then of course there was the judge, an old white man who went all fire and brimstone onRosalyn. Despite the fact that Rosalyn did not know the circumstances under which she waskeeping Roger, she still received an all expense paid trip to Fall River County Prison.

As Rosalyn looked up at the four story grey tower, she ached in knowing that she would beliving here for the next four years of her life. But, unlike the Rosalyn that had wept in the backof the police cruiser, she had finally forced herself to become numb.

She was, along with seven other women on the bus, escorted by guards down a muddy dirt

driveway, drowned under an inch and a half of rainwater.Once inside the dry, but equally gray and cold, Rosalyn were checked in, given her uniform,

and brought to the cell where she would spend almost half of a decade.

Chapter 8The dining hall was almost done clearing out. Rosalyn had slowed her pace down, allowing

everyone else out before her, as she did almost every day, not out of courtesy. Any politenessdidnt go anywhere in this place. Rosalyn was staying back because this was the sunniest roomin the entire prison.


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Twenty five foot tall windows rose from the ceilings allowing warm light from the orangesetting sun to come inside. This was Rosalyns brief escape from this hell. Just a few seconds ofnear silence, where she was almost alone, with the exception of a dozen or so silent guards thatmight as well have not existed so long as there wasnt any trouble.

Rosalyn savored the last few moments of tingling sunlight before she passed two guards oneither side of a pair of black metal double doors. Then she heard a voice call from behind her.

Hold on there just one minute. The voice echoed through the cafeteria as if it were an operahouse. The mans voice spoke very slowly.

For a moment, Rosalyn continued to migrate with the herd of inmates, until she caught theeye of one of the guards at the door. The man just stared at her for a second, and then jerked hishead back towards the cafeteria.

Rosalyn turned around to see the Warden of the prison standing in by the kitchen doors. Shehad only recognized him from when he had made a brief statement two weeks ago when headdressed the new inmates.

He was a slightly hefty, but very strong man. It looked like he could have been a footballplayer in high school. He was dressed in khaki pants and a pine green dress shirt tucked in. Hehad on a pair of reflective sunglasses and a beige Stetson hat covering his well oiled blonde hair.

Yes, you.He called again. The Warden took the cigarette hanging out of his mouth anddropped it on the floor and crushed the butt with the soul of his foot as Rosalyn walked backtowards him.

Yes, Mr. Diggory. She asked.If you would follow me. He instructed as he exhaled his last smoke-filled breath.Yes sir. She followed him through a different set of double doors that led into the kitchen

where eight or nine other inmates were working, scrubbing dishes and hosing down large silverpots and pans.

All motion ceased once the other women took notice of his presence. The only sound therewas, was that of the icy air conditioning pumping in cold air through a vent in the ceiling.

Out.He said quietly. The other women were frozen in their places. Now! Back to yourcells! he boomed, and suddenly the kitchen was filled with the sound of silverware and plateslanding on top of one another, then a rapid succession of footsteps hurrying towards the exit fromwhere he and Rosalyn had just entered.

Finally, the swinging doors halted, leaving only Rosalyn and the Warden in the room. TheWarden looked at the kitchen, as if to suck up the emptiness in the area. Then he turned back toface Rosalyn.

Pull down your pants. The Warden said and a loathsome smile stretched across his face.Im sorry sir. I dont think I caught that right. Rosalyn knew exactly what he said, but for

some reason it was like hitting rewind on a movie and expecting a difference, but that was a levelof optimism that Rosalyn could not reach.

You heard me. I said Pull. Down. Your. Pants. Each word made Rosalyn want to breakinto tears, but she wasnt going to show any weakness.

Rosalyn did what she was told and pulled the elastic waistband from her hips to her ankles.He took off his Stetson and set it down on a metal counter. He then began to unzip his pants.Rosalyn didnt look at him, even when he pushed her half naked body against the cold tiles onthe wall. He had her trapped between a sink and a cabinet. Caged in, like an animal.

She wanted to force herself to become numb again, but even in the unusually cold room,numb was an unachievable sensation. Rosalyn could feel everything. She could even feel theminute curves on his icy skin as he ran both hands up her legs.


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It all finally became real when he thrust himself inside of her for the first time. Then he did itagain. And again. It went on for a few more minutes, but it felt like hours. Rosalyn hadabsorbed every single detail of what had happened. His rhythmic breathing, the smell oftobacco, his hands held tightly around her wrists.

When he finally finished, he only stepped back a few inches to zip up his pants again. Hedonned his Stetson and reached into his back pocket where he pulled out a crushed pack ofcigarettes. He lit one and took a deep breath. Then he leaned in so close, that his nose waspractically touching Rosalyns.

If you tell anybody about this he began, pouring the mouthful of smoke directly intoRosalyns face. I mean anybody, I will kill you.

Besides.He chuckled, who would believe you. Youre nothing here. Ill bet that yourebarely anything outside of here. But me, Im God here, and you dont want to mess with God.

All she could do was to put on a strong face and let him know that he couldnt destroy her.But she still didnt look at him.

He looked up at the ceiling and blew a ring of smoke towards the sky, an evil halo. Withoutanother word, the Warden walked out, leaving Rosalyn in the wake of her chilling new reality.

She couldnt move. She was completely paralyzed by what had just happened. Tears began

to run across her cheeks.This was her life, and again, somebody had just come in and taken all control from her. A

feeling of helplessness and hopelessness flooded Rosalyns entire body from below her shakingknees all the way up to her welling eyes.

Rosalyn had to be strong she had to collect herself and go back to her cell. She bent downand pulled her pants back up, and then she wiped her tears away before she walked back out tothe empty cafeteria.

The glowing sun outside of the window didnt even faze Rosalyn. The joy it brought her notten minutes ago was eerily absent.

She walked quietly past the two guards at the exit of the dining hall, past two dozen lockedcells until she reached her own. Rosalyn just stood outside until a guard walked up, unlocked thegate and let her in before slamming the heavy set of metal bars behind her.

Her overweight cellmate, Lisa, was already asleep.What an illusion this place was. Cement walls and iron bar doors. Countless armed guards

posted at every corner in the building. This place had the facade of a fortress, but it wasnt. Itdidnt protect her when she needed it.

Chapter 9Rosalyn didnt eat or speak to anybody for almost four days; she didnt even leave her cell

until dinner of the fourth day, but eventually her stomach longed for food. Dinner was what ithad been for the past several weeks, meatloaf, beans and mashed potatoes.

She had almost inhaled the food, despite its almost intolerable taste. Shortly after Rosalynfinished her meal, a bell rang in the dining hall, signaling the end of dinner. Rosalyn hurried to

the front of the mass of inmates that were all slowly moving towards the door.Once back in her cell, she quickly went to sleep.But even sleep wasnt a safe place for her. A haunting nightmare terrorized her thoughts. It

was an exact replay of the events in the kitchen earlier in the week. The vivid images woke herinstantly.

Rosalyn didnt know what time it was. It was still dark out, and it was silent except for theoccasional squeaking of somebodys cot or a cough.

She couldnt help but relive the rape in her mind, over and over. She began to feel a twist inher stomach. She suddenly got dizzy.


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Rosalyn hurried to the toilet, throwing open the lid and emptying what seemed like the entirecontents of her torso. The warm taste of vomit and the acidic burning in her throat almost madeher gag again, but there wasnt much left to throw up.

She thought back to when she had found out that her grandmother had passed away. She hadpuked all over the kitchen floor.

Its just my nerves. She told herself.You dyin down there? Lisa mumbled from the top bunk in the cell.Im alright. Rosalyn replied.Just try to keep it down.Alright was pushing it. But she was surviving, and thats really all she could do right now.

Chapter 10It was only eight months later and Rosalyn was escorted from her cell by two guards. The

other inmates emerged to the cell doors and watched.About time you started making your way out. One of the inmates cheered. Rosalyn

smiled.Then another contraction hit her and she almost went down. The guards at either side of her

caught her before she hit the ground. When she came to a stop, drops of sweat were shaken fromher face and fell to the cement floor.The guards practically lifted her. Her arms were around their shoulders and her feet were

dragging across the floor.HURRY! she screamed. The guards started a careful jog to the prisons medical area. The

doors opened automatically after one of the guards punched in a security code into a keypad bythe door.

On the other side of the double doors were several doctors waiting for her. They instantlybegan asking her questions, but Rosalyn could hardly focus with the pain.

Childbirth was not one of the things she expected when she came to prison. But, just likeother things that had happened in the last two years, it was beyond her control.

Chapter 11October 1983No, Thomas. Go put those back. She only used his full name when she was scolding him.

The seven year old was trying to sneak a box of Lucky Charms the size of his chest into thegrocery cart.

Mommy, I want them. He whined desperately. I want them, I want them, Iwant them.He pleaded with increasing volume as he shook the shopping cart. A woman who was looking atpackets of oatmeal halfway down the row looked over, causing Rosalyn to feel overwhelminglyembarrassed.

Rosalyn grabbed one of his arms off of the metal frame and slapped the back of his handfirmly. Hush up. Were in the store. Dont talk to me like that. Im your mother. She never

blinked. She hated yelling at him; she loved him more than she could even believe; but she hadto be the mother and not the friend.Take them back. Tom only stared at the ground with a grumpy face. Hey! she snapped.

You look at me. He made eye contact, but his face was still twisted into a face that resembleda gargoyle. Take. Them. Back. She took the box out of the shopping cart and handed it hackto him.

As he started to head back down the aisle, Rosalyn called, And dont you just put that backand bring another box. It was a trick he tried to pull several times when she had told him to put


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thisbox back. The little con-artist tried to get away with just bringing another identical box uponhis return, but after all it wasnt thatbox.

Rosalyn constantly had to choose her words carefully, knowing that he would try to findsome kind of loophole. She hated to admit it sometimes, but the little kid was smart.

When he returned empty handed, Rosalyn led them to get a few rotisserie chickens, cans ofstring beans and other vegetables. Then they headed over to the far end of the grocery store tobuy a few microwaveable dinners.

As they walked through the aisle, goose bumps rose on Rosalyns bare forearms.Rosalyn picked out a few cardboard boxes filled with premade mashed potatoes, meatloaf,

and green beans. She closed the frosted door and began down the aisle when she looked up andher heart nearly stopped.

Why dont you run back and get those Lucky Charms. Okay, Thomas? She said, turningtoward her son. The young boy jumped with excitement and began running down the aisle. Helooked like he had just eaten a can full of jumping beans the way he was running.

She looked back to the aisle. The Warden had seen her too. He was staring her directly inthe eyes, like a lion that had just spotted a gazelle.

Instantly, Rosalyn felt sweat appear on her forehead. The Warden walked closer. He was

wearing regular clothes, but he had on his pine green jacket with Michael Diggory, Wardenstitched onto the right breast. He was carrying a thirty of Bud Light by his side.

He had a boy standing next to him, not much older than Thomas. The Warden told himsomething, and then began to walk towards her. The boy remained at the end of the aisle.

Well, well, well. He said calmly when he was only a few feet away. Look who we havehere.

Im not afraid of you anymore. Rosalyn shot at him. No, fear wasnt what she was feeling.It was more like just shy of paralyzing terror.

You should be. He chuckled. Got yourself a husband and a brat, huh?Hardly.She paused. Hes your son. The Warden let out an obnoxious laugh before he

cleared his throat.Theres no way any kid of mine would be a nigger.Just then Rosalyn looked and saw Tom run up to her side, carrying the massive box of cereal.

The Warden turned to the boy.Do me a favor and go grab me some hamburgers down there. The Warden pointed down

the aisle.Youre not my dad. You cant tell me what to do. He snapped. As fresh and impolite as

that was, Rosalyn was so proud of her son in that moment.Fair enough.The Warden said, surprised by the childs attitude. Rosalyn calmed herself,

and fitted herself with a similar, witty attitude.Do what he said, Tom. Tom looked confused for a moment, but then he did as he was told.

Once he was out of earshot, Rosalyn continued. After all, you are his father. The Wardensamused expression quickly dropped and was replaced with rage.

Youd be wise to watch yourself around me. Youve still got plenty to be afraid of. Tomreturned, and without another word, the Warden snatched the package out of the boys hand andwent back to his son at the end of the aisle.

That mans mean. Tom said. Rosalyn didnt say anything. All she could do is go down onher knees and give him the tightest embrace she could manage. She wiped the tears from hereyes behind him, and then just squeezed tighter.

Chapter 12


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The thought that the Warden was still around had haunted her for too long, but Rosalyn hadbeen able to repress it. He told herself over and over again that she had been the only one. Butshe knew that wasnt true.

Her silence was allowing even more women to be violated by that monster. The Wardenswords echoed in her mind. If you tell anybody about this, I mean anybody, I will kill you.

She walked into the police station and straight to the receptionist behind a glass window.How may I help you? the perky woman asked.

I need to report a rape. The woman looked awkwardly shocked. Really, do you expectpeople to report good deeds here at the police station?Rosalyn thought. The woman picked up aphone off of its dock and pressed three numbers.

YesI need you to come down and document a statement. She stayed on the phone foranother few seconds and then hung up. Were having an officer come to help you.

Rosalyn waited for a few minutes before a short man in a navy blue uniform walked throughthe door of the lobby. The Irish officer almost looked like a leprechaun with his orange hair andIrish blue eyes.

Maam, if you would come with me. He said. Rosalyn followed the officer through thedoor and into a room filled with cubicles. They were nearly at the back of the room when he

turned into a cubicle.She took a seat in front of a small oak desk, looking directly at the officer. He reached into a

file and pulled out a pale pink form and clicked a ballpoint pen.Now, what exactly can I help you with? Rosalyn relived the incident in vivid detail, telling

everything to the officer. The officer scribbled furiously as she spoke, writing every word thatshe said.

By the end, he could hardly believe what he had just heard. Thank you Ms. Evans. Welllook into this. In the meantime, is there any medical attention that you need?

Rosalyn shook her head no. Thank you. She said before walking back towards the lobby.The officer watched the door close behind her before going to his rolodex and pulling out thephone number of his old friend.

Hello? a voice on the phone answered.Hey, its me. I was just with a woman. The officer said. She was telling me some things

that you might be interested in.

Chapter 13Rosalyn got out of her car and picked up the two bags of groceries in the back seat, looking

forward to having the house to herself for a little bit before she had to pick up Tom from daycare.She walked to the front door of her house and struggled with one hand to find the key that

would let her in. Surprisingly, she managed to unlock the door without dropping anything. Onceinside, she quickly turned the knob on the door to the horizontal locked position. She leaned onthe door, almost expecting to hear a sudden pounding coming from the other side. But Rosalyn

knew that she couldnt allow her paranoia to dictate her behavior. The door was locked. Shewas safe now.

Rosalyn walked to the kitchen and began unloading cans, eggs, bread, and other foods. Sheunloaded a box of ice cream bars into the open freezer, but before she had a chance to close it,she was being pulled backwards by her hair. A scream was silenced by a hand squeezing theteeth.

I told you not to tell anybody. The Wardens voice said angrily. You broke your promise.Now Im keeping my promise.


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Rosalyn felt the hand grasping her mouth tighten. She knew what was coming next, butbefore she could even sigh or shed one tear, a quick and powerful twist snapped Rosalyns neck.

Her lifeless body fell gracelessly to the floor and the Warden silently walked away.

Chapter 14October 1994

Tom was sitting in the back of his mothers car, taking in another shouting argument. How Icontinue to put up with you is beyond me. His mother, his step mother really, continued toshout.

Tom had been caught with a stash of pot in his high school locker. The bitch principal hadsuspended him for two weeks.

And now he had to deal with his foster mother and her husband. Hed been stuck with themsince his real mothers murder.

He just sat in the passenger seat of his mothers Saab, staring out of the window andcompletely disregarding his mother.

They pulled into the driveway of their semi-suburban home and Tom got out and threw onhis headphones, hitting play on his cassette player. Tupac began to resonate into his ears.

He was only in his room for a few minutes when his foster mother stepped in. She saidsomething, but Tom refused to remove his headphones. She walked up to him and snatchedthem off of his head.

Hey! Tom shouted at her.Watch it, Tom. She was serious so Tom shut up. Your father and I are going out tonight.

Well be back around ten oclock.Alright. Tom replied.Get some homework done, just because youre not going to school tomorrow doesnt mean

you wont be studying. She paused I love you, Tom. She said as she walked towards thedoorway.

Yeah. Tom mumbled and his foster mother walked out the door and down the stairs.

It was 11:34, much later than Toms parents had promised to be back. Tom hadnt noticed.Instead he had been waiting anxiously for a call from his good friend Raul to see if he had gottenany pot for Toms unexpected long weekend. The phone rang from Toms bedroom, so he liftedhimself off of the couch to answer before the call defaulted to the answering machine.

Raul? Tom answered, expecting to hear the voice of his friend.Excuse me? an official sounding voice replied.Sorry, I thought you were someone else.Is Thomas Evans there? the voice asked.Yeah, Im Tom. He answered no idea who he was now speaking to.Im Officer Raines with thePolice Department. There was a car crash involving your foster

parents. Toms heart began beating faster. Im sorry, but they didnt make it. No words

escaped Toms mouth. What could he say? He loved his foster parents, even though he neveradmitted it. Now he wished he had. There was silence on the line as the words sank in.Hello? Officer Raines said, but Tom just hung up.

Tom promised himself something. He would get away from all of this shit. No more drugs,no more trouble. He was too late to apologize to his foster parents, but he wouldnt make thatmistake again.


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Tom picked up the phone again and dialed Rauls number. It went straight to the answeringmachine. Tom kept it simple, explaining that he didnt want to live this life anymore. He saidnothing about his parents and nothing about where he was going to go.

Chapter 15June 2008

Tom wearily stepped up the beige concrete stairs towards the apartment which he had beensharing for the past eleven months with his girlfriend Marissa, the soon to be mother of his child,and her three and a half year old son, Caleb.

It had been a tiring day at Home Depot where he worked. There had been three employeesout sick so instead of working in sales, which he preferred, Tom was stuck with the impossiblydull task of unloading, literally, two and a half tons of lumber, birdseed, and other miscellaneousstock from the storage room and a truck in the back of the store.

He had just opened the door when he heard someone say his name. Thomas Evans? Tomturned around and saw a police officer approach him.

Yes? Tom answered. Can I help you with something? he asked, unsure as to why thepolice would be interested in speaking with him.

The cop who was coming up the stairs was a thin but muscular man with slick blonde hairbrushed towards the back of his head.

You are under arrest for the murder of Bhanu Sihgn. You have the right to remain silent.Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.

Marissa! Tom called into the open door.You have the right to have an attorney present during questioning. The officer raised his

voice. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand?Marissa! Tom shouted again, this time his girlfriend emerged onto the porch, screaming

when she saw Tom being pressed into the wall.Get your hands off of him! she cried.Maam the second officer interjected. We need you to remain in your home for the time

being.Whats going on, Tom? she asked.I dont know.Mr. Evans. The blonde officer explained. Is wanted for MurderMarissa didnt know what to do. She thought about Calebs father, Marcus. He was another

nice guy until he tried to break into a jewelry store and make off with close to a million dollarsworth of gold, jewels, and money. Thats how he landed himself in prison. She didnt know ifshe could trust Tom, or if he was just the same.

The blonde officer cuffed Tom, and then continued to shove him into the back seat of thepolice cruiser. He couldnt believe what was happening. He wasnt a killer.

The police cars engine purred and the vehicle began to pull away from the house. He sawMarissa crying, but there was nothing he could do. As much as he wanted to help her, he

couldnt even help himself.

Chapter 16The heavyset judge walked into the courtroom as the belief called All rise.Be seated. The judge murmured as he sat in his seat. A small crowd of people on the left

side of the courtroom sat. On the right side, only Tom and his lawyer took their seats. There wasnobody sitting behind Tom, not even Marissa. He had hoped that she would come, but hecouldnt blame her after what had happened with her Ex-boyfriend.


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Thomas Evans. You are charged with the murder of Bhanu Sihgn. How do you plead? thejudge asked.

Not guilty. Tom said truthfully. He wanted to look over to the other side of the court, buthe could feel the Indian family glaring at him hatefully.

And then there was the blonde officer standing in front of the entire family. He was focusingon the judge and the lawyers as they made their opening statements.

After about an hour of back and forth between the lawyers and the judge, the judge spoke toTom.

Mr. Evans, due to your extensive juvenile criminal record, you will be refused bail. You areto return to court in two weeks time. Until then you will stay at Stafford County Prison.

With one final bang of the judges gavel, the day was over. The family of the victim exitedout of the main exit, while Tom was escorted towards the front of the courtroom. He was lead tothe back of the building where a police car was waiting for him.

The cruiser drove him to the cold grey building where he would live for the next two weeks.Only two weeks if he was lucky, much longer if he wasnt.

Guards gave him a pine green one piece jumpsuit with an orange number on the breast andacross the shoulders on his back.

He was brought to an empty cell in a brand new wing of the prison. There was nobody elsein the entire wing. Tom spent two weeks locked there in complete silence. His only companywas his memories and the haunting thoughts as to why this was happening to him.

That was his only company until the thirteenth night when there was a slam as the doorclosed and footsteps echoed through the cells.

Tom walked to the iron bars to see who was approaching. For a minute he couldnt seeanything. There were only the footsteps, but then a man emerged into Toms vision.

It was the blond officer that had arrested him, the same one that was at his hearing. Whatwas he doing here? Tom thought.

Well, well, well. The officer said calmly when he was only a few feet away. Look whowe have here.

Chapter 17Hey man, I didnt kill anybody. Tom pleaded. Who accused me of murder?Why, I did. Youre here because of me.I didnt kill that man. Ive never hurt anybody.I know you didnt kill him. The officer laughed. I did. Tom couldnt believe what he

had just heard. The police officer had murdered someone. Why? What was going on? Tomsmind was being torn into a billion different directions simultaneously. Im the one who pumpedfour shots into that old mans chest.

What the hell? he shouted.It was simple really. All I had to do was wait for someone who looked like you to walk into

that Gandhi-mart and then I went in and shot that Indian feller. The guy ran out and I chased

after him, made it look like he did it. At least thats the way it looks from my cruisers camera.Broke into your house and got some of your prints, told the CSI I dusted them right after you ranaway. Dont worry, another Gandhill fly in next week and take over.

Youre crazy! What the hell is your problem man? Why are you doing this to me? Therewere no words to describe what Tom was feeling. Panic, fear, frustration, rage, they all seemedso miniscule to Tom.

Your bitch mother ruined my family!My mother was killed years ago.


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And it was my father who broke her little neck. Tom stood in silence, unable to processthe magnitude of what was happening. She accused my father of raping her. My mother left usbecause of that bitchs lies. My father died a week weeks after she left. Tom could tell that theofficer was trying to stay angry, but his voice was cracking, and Tom knew that this must havebeen eating at him for a long, long time.

Youre the wardens kid.Thats right. Ian Diggory, at your service.Then you should know that my mother wasnt lying. The wardens my father. That makes

us brothers. The next thing Tom saw was the barrel of the officers gun, a Glock17. Tomstumbled back, tripping onto his cot.

Theres no way Im related to some nigger! Officer Ian Diggorysmiled menacingly. Therewas no reason for him to believe that it was even a possibility. Tom had inherited many of hismothers traits and it would be unlikely that he would have a white father. You can fight thiscase all you want, but its no use. That lawyer of yours wont do shit to help you. Youre goingto rot for this. Diggorysfootsteps echoed through the cold, empty prison until there was a loudbang as the door closed, and then nothing. Tom was alone with his thought, his hauntingnightmare that was a perfect reality.

Chapter 18The next afternoon, two large guards brought Tom from his cage to another police car. They

began to head back to the courthouse. It was on the way there that Tom made a decision. Hewas going to take control of his life, not just let his life control him. He was caged, like ananimal, just the way Diggorywanted. But one thing Diggoryforgot one thing. Cornered animalslash out. Fight or flight. Survival.

The car pulled into the back of the courthouse. The officers got out and came around to theleft side of the back seat and opened the door.

Tom emerged and began to follow one of the officers inside. The other was following Tom.It was now that he had to make his move.

Tom spun around and kicked the second officer hard in the chest. The man let out a loud

moan and fell backwards, hitting his head on the cruisers back wheel.The first officer turned, but before he could pull his gun, Tom put his arms around the mans

neck, using the handcuffs to keep him from moving. He swung the officers head into thecruisers window, which cracked, but didnt break apart.

The other officer, who was still sitting, had now drawn his gun and was moving to take aim,but Tom kicked the gun away, and then kicked the officer in the chest again.

Tom kicked him in the chest again. His head banged against the wheel again. The collisionmade a deep metallic thud.

Tom rapidly checked the pockets of the unconscious officers, finally discovering the keys tohis handcuffs. After freeing himself, he dashed down the street, hurrying past businessmen andwomen, even a few hot dog stands.

This is whats great about the city. Everyone is too absorbed in their own business to realizethat a man in a prison uniform just ran by. Tom thought.He continued to sprint down the busy street for another quarter mile until he came to

Rowling Park, a three square mile park filled with trees and paths, excellent for making a quickescape.

He dashed into the woods, knowing precisely where he was going, knowing every last turnhe had to take, even once he was free from the trees. It was almost like he was alreadyprogrammed to know how to escape.


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Chapter 19Ian Diggorysat in the court, looking anxiously at his Rolex wristwatch. The officers were

running late, and Diggory wanted to get this guy locked up as soon as possible.The time seemed to pass so slowly, but yet, this entire experience had gone by so fast for

him. It was like reading a good book, wanting to get to the end, but wanting the story to

continue at the same time. It was in this moment that Diggory got his wish.A police officer burst into the courtroom near where the bailiff was standing. Everyone

gasped and a few people stood. The officer had a river of blood coming from his nose.Hes escaped. The officer gasped. I already radioed the station. He attacked me and

Officer Reilly then took off. Reillys already after him.GOD Damn it! Diggoryshouted before he shot out of his seat and ran straight out of the

courtroom. He jumped into his cruiser that was parked outside and tore down the street. After afew honks and slow drivers he threw on the siren and lights.

If Evans was going where he thought he was, Diggorywould still be able to apprehend him.If worse came towell, better, he might even get to shoot the bastard. Now that would be agreat ending to a great story.

Diggory got onto the highway and circled around to the back of Rowling Park at the onlypath out on this side of the city.The car was soaring across the pavement, dangerously fast. Diggorybegan wondering if all

of this was worth it. If he was going to get himself killed chasing nothing.His fathers face jumped into his mind, clinging to every bit of consciousness. He thought

about how his father had been so broken the night he died. He knew it was Rosalyn Evans fault.Her lies killed his father. That niggers life wasnt worth his fathers. There was still a price topay, and Evans was the only one who could pay it.

Ians eyes welled as the image of his father lingered in his thoughts. His knuckles whitenedas he squeezed the steering wheel. His entire body was rigid. Ian could almost hear his fathersvoice telling him to be strong. And thats what he was going to be.

He parked the cruiser on the side of the rode and took his Glockfrom the locked glove

compartment. He shot into the woods, hoping he was right.Praying and Preying.He searched the woods surrounding the path, almost giving up hope. It was getting dark, and

his chance of finding Evans was astronomical, even if he was in this park, which was just ahopeful guess anyway.

Then he heard something in the woods. The sound of crunching leaves, too rapid to just be asquirrel. Footsteps? There were a lot of runners in these woods, but Diggory didnt want to letgo of his hope just yet.

Thats when he saw him, still wearing his green prison uniform. Evans didnt even seeDiggory. He was just jogging about thirty feet off of the path. This is perfect. Diggory thought.

He retreated down the path, then when he was close enough he went straight after Evans. He

lifted his gun while still running and took aim. Just before he pulled the trigger, a tree rootgrabbed his ankle, and the bullet soared into a tall oak tree.The shot immediately alerted Evans that he was there. This wasnt the way it was supposed

to go.But there was still a chance of catching him. Evans was tired, and maybe he could catch up.

Diggorypushed off of the root like an Olympic sprinter rising from the blocks. Diggorywasquickly able to catch up with Evans. Diggorytackled him into a tree, wrestling around, unable topoint his gun at Evans from such a close position. Instead he punched him, then again, over andover until his big black nose was covered in blood.


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Then he saw Evans arm swing around and felt an unbelievably sharp pain at the base of hisneck. He rolled off of Evans and pressed his free hand against his wound. He could feel warmblood trickling down his shirt, and realized that he wouldnt be able to continue the chase formuch longer. He needed to get to the hospital.

He tried to raise his gun for one last shot, but his shoulder was too weak to lift his arm.Within a few seconds Diggorys prey had disappeared.

Chapter 20Tom raced out of the woods, emerging onto a street. He looked down at the bottom half of

the broken beer bottle that he had stabbed Diggorywith. It still had some of his blood in it. Itwas disgusting.

Tom almost threw the glass to the ground, but then he had a realization. In his hand was thething that would save his life.

But now he had to run, there wasnt any time for planning. He just knew there might be onesafe place he could go, and he had to get there fast.

He ran a few more blocks until he reached the highway, crossing under it, and then taking aleft. The rout was almost instinct.

Tom was so focused on where he was going that he didnt even realize that he had passed thehome where he and his foster parents once lived.He kept running, his heart was pounding, sweat dripped from his face, his breaths were heavy

and dry, but he was close. Finally, Tom reached his destination, an old two family house thatshould have been demolished years ago, but for now it was a safe haven.

Tom stopped at the front door on the left half of the house. Several seconds later a tallHispanic man arrived behind in the doorway. He was wearing a white t-shirt and same blackjeans. His hair was done in corn rolls that went to the back of his neck.

Yeah? the man answered. Tom remained silent. The mans eyes widened suddenly.Tom?

Yeah man, its me. Tom said as Raul walked up and gave Tom a hug.God, I havent seen you since-

May 29, 1994. Tom cut him off.Wow, God. So, howve you been?Not great, actually. Mind if I come in? Raul stepped back and noticed the prison uniform

that Tom was wearing.Yeah man, of course. Raul said in a very serious tone. Tom followed his old friend back

into the dimly lit house. He sat on a couch that he remembered from his youth, not much elsehad changed either, except Raul. He was a man now. It was strange to think that he hadnt seenhim in fourteen years. It really was a different life that he had lead.

Over the next hour Tom filled Raul in on all of the details of the events, beginning all theway with his mother. He explained that he needed a place to stay for a little while until thingscooled down and Tom could figure out his next move.

Raul agreed under only one condition.You owed me thirty five dollars when you left. I want that with interest. They bothlaughed. It was good to have something to laugh about.

After a quick meal, Tom went onto Rauls computer, an ancient piece of crap, but it worked.He went to Google.com and searched for any local forensic scientist.

After a few dead end websites, Tom found his answer. Dr. Shane Silverstein, a man whorecently cracked several cold cases. Tom thought this might be someone who could help him.But he had to do something else first.


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Chapter 21Marissa sat on end of her living from couch flipping through channels on the television,

trying to find something that could distract her from all of the chaos that had filled her life for thepast month.

Caleb was already in bed, fast asleep, so Marissa had most of the house to herself.

She happened upon an ancient Seinfeld rerun, and a new episode of the medical comedyScrubs, but her mood hardly called for a barrel of laughs.

Maybe a romance, or one of those movies based on true stories, like Freedom Writers withHilary Swank. She finally gave herself two minutes to find something or she would just stay onwhatever program she landed on.

However it didnt nearly take that long before Marissa found something that grabbed herattention.

It was the last thing in the world that she wanted to be watching at this moment, butsomething inside her compelled her to set down the remote control and watch.

Toms face looked directly at her from a box on the side of the screen besides a live newsanchor.

Police are still searching for the suspected murderer who escaped police custody almost twoweeks ago while being transported from holding to his trial.The anchors face faded away to a navy blue screen where a physical description was being

displayed in a series of white bullet points.Thomas Evans is six foot two. The anchors disembodied voice continued. Roughly one

hundred ninety pounds. Described as muscular. The sheriff's department is warning citizens thatEvans is very dangerous and may have possession of a firearm.

Police are following leads, including family and close friends. If you have any information,call your local Police station. He finished.

What a load of crap. Marissa thought to herself. She knew for a fact that his family waseither dead or was never in the picture. She had seen the gravestones of both Toms mother andhis foster parents who had all been taken before Tom had turned eighteen. She knew that the

police were feeding the news this stuff to ensure that the public still had faith in the lawenforcement.

A female newscaster gave a brief preview of coming stories before cutting to commercial.Marissa decided that no matter what she did, nothing could kidnap her from the thoughts of theman she once thought she knew. The man she thought she once loved.

She walked into the kitchen and looked into the refrigerator. By the microwave clock it wasalready half past eleven. This late a cold beer wouldnt have time to numb any of her sorrows.Not that that was even an option, now that she had to care for another life inside of her. Instead,she poured herself a glass of iced tea from a pitcher she kept.

As she sipped the cool beverage, she gazed out of the window above the sink that looked outto the back yard. The stars looked unusually bright tonight. Her gaze refocused on the glass

when she noticed the dark reflection of someone else in the room with her.The glass of iced tea slipped out of her hand, almost instantly splintering in the sink, whilethe rest of her body crumpled, muscles tightening out of terror and shock.

Marissa stumbled around to face the intruder. Even with the lights out she instantly knewwho was standing before her.

Tom.I didnt mean to startle you. He said softly. He reached to his side and flicked on the lights.GETOUT! Marissa wheezed, still half-choking from her last sip of iced tea.Just hear me out. Tom requested.


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Get out! she shouted again.Look Rissa, I didnt do what these people are saying I did. He stayed on the far side of the

room, but gazed gently at her, as if she were in his arms.Marissa walked over to the back door and put her hand on the doorknob and began to turn.

She subtly set her other hand on the ADT alarm key pad, pressing the ARM button beforeopening the door. The alarm silently tripped, hopefully alerting the police, and hopefully goingunnoticed by Tom.

Im not going to say it again. She insisted pointing out the door.Good! Maybe now you can listen to me. There was a new anger in his voice that

frightened Marissa. I was set up. I had nothing to do with that killing.Then tell me what did happen. She pried, wishing she could believe him. But she couldnt.

Not after what she had gone through with Marcus. You bought me those diamonds. You and Iboth know you cant afford things like that. Where did the money come from?

I got a promotion. Call the office, theyll tell you. The rest is a long story.Ive got time. She said, trying to call his bluff, but also trying to keep him in the house

until the police made their appearance.I know youve got time, but I dont. Tom reached up and pressed the DISARM button on

the keypad.Then he walked towards her. She quickly went for a knife on the counter, but Tom caught

her hand. He held her palm, squeezing in just enough to keep a grip on it. Tom felt so guiltywhen he saw the fear in her eyes, knowing that he put it there.

But more than fear there was Marissas famous stubbornness. And bravery, something thathe knew Marcus had been responsible for.

I love you Rissa. I know you dont believe me, but I do. He put his hand on her bellywhich had grown significantly since he had last seen her. Im going to be back to raise thesekids with you. Tom pushed open the screen door that went into the back yard. I promise.

The screen door made a cracking sound that seemed to fill the whole room, thendisappearing, leaving only Marissa. She couldnt believe what had just happened, but part of herstarted to believe in Tom.

Chapter 22So, maybe one bridge was on fire. There would be time to put it out and fix his relationship

with Marissa. But there was a much more urgent matter at hand.Thats why Tom was racing down the highway, pushing eighty five in a sixty mile per hour

zone. A good way to get an escaped prisoner caught. But he was nearly there anyway.He pulled into the Silversteins driveway. Their house was absolutely massive. It was a

three story brick mansion that overlooked a beach back yard with a view of the setting sun everynight.

This guy must be good at what he does. Tom though. Of course the fact that hes married toan heiress probably doesnt hurt.

It was dawn, and the sky was still pale blue. The entire neighborhood was silent. Luckily,Silverstein claimed to be a Morning person in one of the articles that Tom read. He might beawake.

Tom knocked on the front door and waited, holding onto the gun that Raul had lent him. Ittook a minute but eventually, a small man opened the door. He was balding and rather patheticlooking. He looked like he should be a scientist.

Yes? he said impatiently.I was wondering if you might be able to do me a favor. Tom requested politely.


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Im sorry, its my day off. As he was about to close the door Tom wedged the barrel intothe crack. The door opened again. Apparently Silverstein didnt see the gun because he wasshocked when it was pointed at him.

Whatever you want, j-just take it. Silverstein stuttered. His hands were in the air and hehad his eyes firmly closed. Tom glanced inside, seeing the large spiraling staircase and a largecrystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The walls were decorated with elegant artwork andseveral sculptures on miniature Roman columns. This guy has it made. Tom thought.

I said I wanted a favor, not money. Tom repeated.The drive to Dr. Silversteins empty lab was very awkward and dead silent. Dr Silverstein

was sweating profusely, taking out his handkerchief every couple minutes to wipe off hisforehead. Unfortunately, nothing could be done to hide the sweat stains on his shirt growingmore visible with each passing minute. Once the two men reached the lab Tom gave him OfficerDiggorys blood and a sample of his own blood that he took right there in the lab.

Compare these. I want to know if there is any relationship between these two bloodsamples. If there is I want a formal printout of the results. Silverstein stared at the blood cellsunder the microscope for hours, putting them in different machines and running tests.

I-It appears that both samples share a common parent: a father. The nervous doctor

managed, handing over the papers with the results.Perfect. Thank you.

Chapter 23After Tom returned to Rauls house, he sent a copy of the lab results to the Police Station and

another to Diggoryshome. Now that he had taken his turn, all he could do is see who would endup in check mate.

He didnt leave Rauls house for two weeks. He didnt even go out on the front porch, orstand near any windows. Sure, if the police suspected that Raul was holding Tom, they wouldhave busted into the house days ago, but the news stations hadnt stopped flashing his picture ontelevision, and Tom wasnt going to throw away what safety he had.

Raul never minded Toms presence, but Tom knew that he couldnt stay much longer.

Tom was eating in the kitchen when Raul called him. Tom, Get out here, PRONTO!Raul was watching the news on, but instead of another story about the escaped murderer, a

new story was taking its place.Officer Ian Diggorywas found dead in his New Orleans home last night. The reporter

stated gravely. It is now being called a suicide, but reports are still coming in. It is unclear ifthe fugitive, Thomas Evans, who escaped from police custody last week, is at all related. Thecamera cut to another man, Caucasian and slightly overweight. The caption read: Captain JohnMessler, New Orleans Police Chief.

At this time we do not believe that Thomas Evans had anything to do with the death ofOfficer Diggory. However in the case of Mr. Evans, new evidence has arisen in the case. Weask that Mr. Evans come to police. Tom turned off the television.

It was the moment of truth. He got out of the passenger side of Rauls car, giving him ahandshake before he walked inside. He walked to the front desk and asked for Captain Messler.

Yes sir. The man said nervously, obviously recognizing Tom.The Captain walked out, surprised to see Tom. They went into a back room, usually used for

interrogation. Messlersilently passed over manila folder. Inside was a single piece of linedpaper with a handwritten note from Officer Diggory.

In the letter it gave a full confession of what Diggoryhad done. Tom read the suicide note asecond time. It was the final line that made Tom laugh. I am not related to a nigger.


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It wasnt funny that he had killed himself. Far from it. What was funny is that, through all ofthis, all of the trouble that Diggory went through, it was the same racism and hate that drove himto do those things that ended up being the feelings that drove him to suicide.

His wife didnt care about him once she found out what he had done, but his son took itpretty hard. Captain Messlersaid once Tom had returned the letter to the table. Youll be gladto know that everyone in law enforcement in this city is completely sympathetic to yoursituation. Even the two officers you blooded up at the courthouse. He chuckled. Tom laughedtoo.

It was finally over. He had won.Check mate.Game over.

EpilogueTom walked up the same stairs that he had when this nightmare began a month ago. He went

and got himself a suit and tie and looked like a million bucks or so said the man who sold himthe suit.

In his hand were two dozen red roses. He raised his arm to press the doorbell, but couldnt

bring himself to do it. There was still a lot that needed explaining, and what if Marissa didnttake him back.Well, what if she didnt? He could live on his own for a while, not that he wanted to do that.

What did he have to lose? The only way he could ever know is if he pressed that glowing orangebutton.

He raised his arm again and this time he pressed the button. Moments later Marissa came tothe door. She stood speechless. Tom was unsure if she was still afraid, if she still thought he wasa murderer. She opened the door and stepped into the light, tears in her eyes. Then she threwherself at Tom, giving him the tightest hug she could give.

Im so sorry I didnt trust you. She cried. Tom let go of her and looked gently into hereyes.

You have nothing to be sorry about.

He looked down at Marissas pregnant belly and thought about all of the times that he and hisfuture son or daughter would have that he never had a chance to have with his mother. He hadalready helped Marissa to raise Caleb, and was happy to be the little boys father.

Then something the Police Captain said entered his thoughts his son took it pretty hard.Lets get out of here. Tom whispered. Get out of this city, this state. Lets go somewhere

where we can be away from everything.

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The Warden's Son