looked up into Warden Miller’s eyes. “You wrote this?”
“My father. I’m Chris Miller. Mr. Farmer, I read your file. I know about your military background and about your murder case. I don’t agree completely with your conviction, but you can’t take the law into your own hands out there or in here. I can’t have you fighting in my prison yard every day.”
“I didn’t start it, but I damn sure ain’t gonna let some Nazi asshole stab me with a shiv.”
The warden stood. “Thirty days in solitary. Read the book, Mr. Farmer. It talks about prison culture in there. Join a group and make peace. Otherwise, your stay here will be short, and it won’t end well for you.”
The guard grabbed Mark’s arm and pulled him away from the desk. The other guard standing behind the desk never moved.
The warden walked back around and sat in his chair. He leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling. “I want him out of my prison. That guy is nothing but trouble we don’t need.”
The guard slowly moved away. “I’ll set up a transfer. We can send him to Florida with next month’s transfer. He can stay in solitary till then.”
“Good. Do the paperwork and I’ll sign it. He’s not a bad guy. Did you read his file? What the guy did to his fiancée.”
“No. Was it bad?”
The warden stood up and took off his suit jacket and threw it on the chair next to the desk. “You would have done the same thing he did. He found the guy here in Georgia. The guy had another dead girl in a shed, tied up. Raped repeatedly and strangled. He dragged the guy into a field, beat him, and then cut his throat. He pulled his gun and shot the guy three more times as a cop was approaching.”
The guard smiled. “Holy shit.”
“Yeah. It was the three shots that the jury couldn’t let go. The prosecutor made a big deal about excessive force and him being a danger to society.”
“And they hung him for it?”
“Yep.”
The guard stopped at the office door and looked back at the warden. “You know, if we send him to Florida, the same thing will happen. He’s not going to join any group and be their muscle. He ain’t that guy.”
“I know.”
The door closed behind the guard, and the warden turned to the window overlooking the prison yard. The prisoners in orange jumpsuits mingled in packs throughout the football-sized field. He looked at the various groups. He saw the Nazi group huddled in a corner. They stood out like a sore thumb. He knew at that very moment they were planning to kill Mark Farmer.
He closed the blinds.
Chapter 2
Death in the Yard
Thirty days had gone by, and Mark had spent them all in a tiny cell in solitary. The guard came to take him back to general population.
Mark stood in the back of the cell. “Just leave me here, it’s better.”
The guard took one step in the cell and held out cuffs. “Let’s go, Mark.”
“I’ll stay, Pete.”
Pete stepped back and pulled the radio on his shoulder next to his mouth. “Gonna need backup in solitary, cell four.”
He stepped back in the cell. “Mark, don’t make this bad for you.”
Four guards stepped up behind Pete in riot gear.
Mark took a deep breath and turned his stance to a fighting stance he had learned in karate class. “Let’s do this.”
The Taser probes hit Mark in the chest, and he was out. He woke to four guards dragging him in full chains into the warden’s office. Slobber was draining from his mouth, and his chest felt like an elephant had stepped on it.
Mark looked up at the warden. “Warden. How’s your day going?”
The warden pulled a napkin from his desk drawer and handed it to a guard. “Help Mr. Farmer there. Seems to have a drooling problem. My day is going considerably better than yours, I would say.”
“Yeah, well, good for you. What do I have to do to go back to solitary?”
“I have good news and bad. Which would you like first?”
“The good, I guess.”
“Good news is, I’m transferring you to Florida. A new start for you so maybe you won’t have as many enemies.”
“And the bad?”
“It’s not for another week. Did you read the book I gave you?”
“Yeah, I did.”
“Assimilate, Mr. Farmer. It will make life easier for you. Take him to his cell.”
“See you tomorrow.”
“Oh yeah. Why is that?”
“Because the next guy in that yard out there that touches me will be dead before he hits the ground. I’m already doing life for murder. What do I care if it’s a few more. Maybe I’ll fix the problems you have out there.”
The warden straightened crossing his arms over his chest. “I guess you want to spend the rest of your life in prison and never get parole. You kill anybody in that yard, it’s murder, not self-defense since you just told me that’s what you plan to do.”
Mark started to turn. “Take me to my cell. I’m done here.”
“Don’t kill anybody in my yard.”
Mark shuffled toward the door in the chains. “Get some body bags ready, Warden.”
Mark went through the door and it closed behind him. The warden turned to look at his head guard. “Keep that fucking guy in his cell this week. No yard time at all. He goes to eat and then back to his cell.”
“Yes, sir. You sure you don’t want me to just put him back in solitary? That’s what he wants.”
“Fuck what he wants. I’m not gonna be told by a prisoner how to run my prison.”
“Yes, sir, I understand.”
“Get me my father’s book back too when you get him settled.”
“Will do, sir.”
The warden turned back to the window as the head guard left his office. “I hate that guy.”
Mark got to his cell, and Kyle was sitting on his bunk. Mark looked over, and he was reading the warden’s book. “Is that yours?”
Kyle closed the book and tossed it on Mark’s bed. “Sorry, dude. They dropped
