Page 43 of The Way We Rot
But of course, that would never happen.
Sally and I were on the other side of the security gates, so it was easy to step outside into the fresh air. The sun had almost come all the way up, but gold and yellow threw across the sky as the night clung on as long as it could.
And what a night it had been.
“The warden told us everything. Said you were taking a leave of absence,” she muttered.
“No,” I responded too fast. “Just one shift. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Adrian…” Sally admonished, sounding like she wanted to say more. Sally was a warm shoulder, but she never overstepped.
I shook my head and leaned against the wall, the cold brick chilling my spine. “I need to keep working. It was rough, but there was no love lost between me and Randal. I’m fine.”
“I just heard you vomiting in there, Adrian.” She nodded her head toward the building. “You saw it all. You pulled Karner off your dead colleague. I don’t think—”
“I vomited because it was a disgusting sight that ruined my dinner, nothing else.” It was a lie, and we both knew it. But Sally didn’t know what the truth was, and she was kind enough not to push. The sight hadn’t disgusted me; it had turned me on, inspired me. And that itself is what had me fucked up. My reaction was not that of horror. At least not at first.
I would take a day to recover from that, to plan, but then it was game fucking over. I would return tomorrow, ready and prepared to take Penelope Karner on once more. For good. I needed her all to myself. No bars, no barriers, no one else to defer to.
“Thanks for the hot chocolate,” I said to Sally, leaving her there, watching me go as I slipped back into the building and towards my car. The warden mandated a day off, but no more than that.
He understood better than most of us why I needed to keep going.
More detectives arrived as I left, and I gave my old colleagues a nod, ignoring their curious eyes. Even when one of them called after me, I kept moving.
I had to fucking think.
I spent the day with my mother. Despite the lack of sleep, my mind and body were switched on, and there was no way I would be able to crawl into bed and switch off my brain. The apartment made me think too hard, made my plans seem too real, even down tothe new bed I’d bought. I walked in, showered, and walked right back out.
Soon.
Mom and I wandered through the park, Boba at our feet, weaving and almost tripping us up every few steps when she stopped to sniff a twig or whatever the hell caught her attention. It was nice, easy. Fresh air and innocence.
We strolled arm in arm, her jabbering gossiping about the neighbors or her book club, letting me be silent, in my own head, distracted.
I hadn’t told her much about what had happened to Randal, but it had, of course, made national news. Renowned female serial killer murders male CO in cold blood? Too exciting a story to pass up. Especially as it had happened at the local prison, many residents of the town working within its walls.
So I said I wasn’t involved, was on the other side of the prison, and she let it go with a fair bit of reluctance, all narrow eyes and that mom-styled pursed lips that used to get me spilling every teenage secret.
I just had to be grateful they hadn’t released any names yet.
“I still don’t know why you chose to work there.” Mom’s voice pulled me out, and I realized we’d walked the length of the park, and the prison compound sat visible in the near distance. The building loomed, ugly and sterile, a concrete square against the desert backdrop. It ruined the town when it was built, according to the older folk who’d lived a whole life here, emanating a sense of darkness, a rot.
It rankled me. Knowingshewas in there. That she was locked away but alive. Breathing. Thinking. Existing. So close, but so many barriers keeping me from her.When I’d found out where Karner was, that she was so close…
“I know,” I said, squeezing Mom’s arm. “But you won’t change my mind, Mom.”
She sighed. “I never could. You or your brother, always so pig-headed.”
I laughed. “Pig-headed? Really? Didn’t know my own mother was so anti-cop.”
“Oh, shush.” She whacked me with a light laugh. “Don’t be so dim; you know what I mean.”
I nodded, I did. And she wasn’t wrong. Once I set my mind to something, I couldn’t rest until I had seen it through.
I arrived back at work a day later to find the prison in more chaos than when I’d left it. Nothing was as it should be. The day staff were nowhere near ready for handover, and the prisoners weren’t locked up tight in their cells.
They were… chanting.
