"Let the torture and suffering in me end."
- Ronald Gene Simmons, Sr., killed 16 people over a week-long period in in 1987. Simmons murdered fourteen members of his family, including a daughter he had and the child he had fathered with her, a former co-worker, and a stranger, and wounded four others. Simmons was sentenced to sixteen times, and after refusing to his sentence, was executed by Arkansas in 1990.
Chapter 32
At the door of the prison, Chris Welsh stood, smoke pealing off the barrel of the gun in his hand.
Chris didn't look horrified or disgusted. No—he looked quite proud of himself indeed. Like a young bully, he puffed his chest and held the gun in his hand like a stolen toy. The prison was his playground and we were in his sand pit.
The gunshot had alerted the few guards who were not preoccupied with the brawl in the cafeteria. We were only a few steps away from the car. My hand slipped from Vans' hand. Everything was starting to fall a part.
Vans was staring at the blood pool as it grew across the pavement like mutating bacteria, lips pulled taunt by the bite of his teeth. His hand hovered over the body, quivering ever so slightly, before he cast his eyes away and sighed. Without looking at the body, Vans felt around the pockets of Alexi's jeans. When he withdrew his hand, he too held a gun.
The air shifted as Vans slowly unlocked the safety and hid the gun behind his back. Chris continued to stalk forwards, gun at his side, pointing an accusing finger at Vans and I.
"You! You brought this on yourself!" Chris' neck strained as Vans wrapped his other hand around mine and pulled me backwards.
Chris raised his gun once again, planting a foot in the blood puddle that had continued to grow across the pavement, and aimed at my forehead. Expecting some wild panic to set in, I closed my eyes and attempted to calm my racing heart. Only when I did, it steadily thumbed to a rhythm of tranquillity. Just as I began to wonder how it could be so, Vans' hand tightened around mine.
A gun went off and I waited to feel the pain.
But when the sound of a body slumping, like books pushed off a shelf, reached my ears, I released it wasn't me that the bullet had hit. Chris' body lay at my feet, head blown apart by the bullet that left Van's gun. When the stench of blood and gunpowder filled my nose and the image of pink brain juice engraved inside my mind, I turned and vomited.
I didn't get the chance to process anything that I had just seen before Vans began pulling me to the car. I stared at the bodies on the ground; they didn't look real. I had never seen blood so read, or organs so pink before in my life. It almost looked as if they belonged in a 90's horror movie, not on the grounds of a prison, and certainly not in front of my eyes.
"Emily! We have to go!" Vans shouted, but I could barely hear him. I was still fixated on the scarlet blood painting over the cement.
In the end, Vans was stronger than me and managed to pull me into the car, finding the keys in my pocket. I stared at the dashboard, unable to move or think about what had happened. Everything in my life was so controlled up until that moment; my days planned and scheduled down to the hour. But then death came and uprooted my plans, kicking aside my normal life like water from a puddle. It was easy, effortless.
Vans slid into the drivers seat and shoved the key into the ignition, not a second to spare. He threw something onto my lap and pulled out of the car park, slamming his foot on the accelerator. A gunshot spurred me into action and I quickly pulled my seat belt over my body.
Another gunshot rang through the air, followed by the sound of glass shattering and a scream. Our back windshield was blown open, glass littering my hair like snow. I wrenched myself forwards, cowering with my head in between my legs. When wetness ran down my cheek, I realised that it was me that was screaming. A wave of Dread filled me, slow dancing in my chest with Panic and Shock. I sobbed into my lap and screamed at Vans,
"GO!"
He didn't need me to say it twice.
I was still sobbing five minutes later when Vans began to slow the car down. There were no sounds of sirens in the distance yet. Vans clicked on the radio and heaved his chest in a sigh.
"This just in. The police are in a desperate car chase to apprehend two people, armed, that have escaped from the Correctional facility in a black Sudan. They are heading southbound on the main roads. So if you are hearing this, steer clear of the main roads heading south. This might be a blood bath." The radio spilled the news into the car, the feminie voice sounding genuinely concerned of the lives we might have endangered. I slowly straightened in my seat and wiped the tears from my face.
Vans laughed next to me and cheered, banging his hands against the steering wheel. Shocked and slightly alarmed, I stared at him with wide eyes.
"God! They're so stupid! They tell you where they are headed before they actually go anywhere!" He was laughing so hard that he chocked on his words. I smiled as I watched him, unsure of what I was supposed to do. It was all so new and exciting; in that moment I had never before felt so free.
He stepped on the accelerator and I was thrown back into my seat, hair flying around me like Medusas snakes.
"Where are we going?" I shouted over the revving of the car, lip quivering as I struggled to digest what I had done.
This was it. This is what I had planned to do; break Vans out of prison. But now that I had done it and seen it and felt it, I had no idea what was supposed to come next.
"You'll see!" He laughed, throwing his head back. "It's not much further."
"How do you even know where to go?" I adjusted my grip on the handcuffs and baton, hands growing sweaty.
"I lived here, before I went in, in a small house near a cliff side! That's were we are headed now."
"But wont they know you'll go there?" I asked, panicked.
"That's exactly the point, love."
Pulled up next to a house not much later. It was a small pink house, paint chipped away from the sides, leaves and dirt piling up against the front door. The house was surrounded by lush foliage, trees blocking out the light in the sky. Vans left the engine running and slid out of the car. I followed, gagging at the stench of cat piss that wafted up my nose.
Vans threw me one of the backpacks that I had stored in the back of the car, carrying another two on his back. I shoved the baton into the pocket of my jeans and the cuffs into my waistband. Vans shuffled over to a nearby tree and began racking through the leaves on the ground.
"Why don't you have any neighbours?" I asked, crossing my arms as he fumbled around in the grass.
"The house burnt down a while ago, ever since I guess no one has wanted the plot of land." He shrugged and picked up a large rock, wiggling his eyebrows.
"What are you doing with that?" I tightened the straps on my backpack, shifting from foot to foot. I knew the cops would be on to us soon.
"This." He said, walking over to the driver's side of the car. Shifting the gears out of park, he placed the rock on the accelerator and jumped out of the way. The car jolted forwards and off the edge of the cliff face. A loud crunching sound filled my ears, like someone was opening a bag of chips next to my face, and a wave of heat blew my hair backwards.
I ran over to the edge of the cliff and stared wide eyed at the burning car. Turning to Vans with a mixture of confusion and anger, I began to yell.
"Why would you do that? How are we going to get away now?" I threw my hands up and stalked over to him, beyond angry.
"Calm down, Emily. I have a plan." He laughed and met me halfway. Before I could hit him in my burst of panic, he pulled me into a tight hug. My face pressed against his chest, I froze, unsure. "Come on, we don't have much time."
He grabbed my arm and pulled me over to a bunch of fallen braches. He passed me a small one and gestured towards the ground.
"Get rid of your footprints, walk backwards until that patch of grass over there. If we are lucky, the police will think we crashed with the car and will spend at least two hours figuring out if we are in that wreck or not. That'll give us some time." He kissed my cheek and grabbed his own branch, stalking over to his own prints. Confused but faithful, I did as I was told until only tire marks remained in the dirt.
Vans reached me a moment later and pulled me further into the trees, determination in his stride. Just as I was about to protest, he pointed to a shiny object in the distance. Half covered in leaves was a small blue car, perfectly placed in a patch cleared of trees.
"How did this car get here, Vans?" I whispered harshly.
"I had Alexi organise our get away car as soon as you said you wanted to help me get out. He told me where to find it and where to find... ah, here is the key!" He found the keys in the front wheel of the car. I didn't know whether to be thankful or to protest as to why Alexi was so helpful, but as the sirens approached in the distance, I knew this was our only chance.
I pulled open the door the moment Vans unlocked it, throwing our bags in the back. He started the engine and pulled out of the trees quietly. He stretched his neck as we searched the highway for oncoming cars, but found none. Vans rolled the car onto the highway smoothly, and in another moment we were off. The sirens cresendowed until they became blaringly loud.
Like folks of lightning, the police cars passed us in a split second, cracking through the air with a whip of sound before disappearing down the end of the road. My knuckles turned white from gripping the seat and a hot sweat broke out over my skin. I turned to Vans, shaking with the cocktail of endorphins running high through my system, waiting for him to tell me that the moment was real; that we were alive.
That moment came in the form of his laughter, which broke through the air like the morning sunrise, slowly engulfing the world into light until everything was covered in his warm, hazy glow.
"We did it, Emily. We really did it."
His hand found mine and even though we were driving off into the sunset, I felt as if my day had only just begun.
-
-
-
-
-
HEY GUYS! Im sorry for any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors- I haven't edited this chapter at all, I Literally just finished writing it.
Its weird because I keep procrastinating writing the chapter and then I get to it and write it out in an hour or so and then just post it straight away, like HERE TAKE IT FROM ME. So I really am sorry for the errors/ plot holes that may take shape- I will fix them when I begin to edit the entire book after Graduation.
Thank you for all your love and support!
GUYS
TWO MORE CHAPTERS
wtf. This is unreal
Your comments and votes make my day :)
xx Charli