Kings of Colorado by David E. Hilton

Author:David E. Hilton
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Simon & Schuster, Inc.
Published: 2011-01-11T08:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

twenty-nine

“HOPE IT WAS WORTH IT,” FRANK KROFT SAID, THROWING THE butt of his rifle into my back like a battering ram. The blow sent me to the ground. As I rolled over, the door slammed shut, extinguishing all light.

The air in the cell was thick with the smell of shit. That, along with the punch to the back, took my breath away.

I crawled around the room, keeping one hand against the concrete wall. It smelled like a rotting carcass was in the room with me. My eyes began to adjust, and I could just make out my hands in front of me. After a few steps, I bumped into the steel commode, nearly sticking my hand inside. The toilet was almost half the size of a conventional one; I never understood that. As if finding the thing in the dark wasn’t hard enough. Also, there’s no plumbing in any of the cells in the box. Each commode is pretty much a dressed-up bedpan. Upon release, it’s your responsibility to yank up the removable basin and clean it out for the next visitor.

The smell from within sliced through me, even though I breathed solely through my mouth. There was no doubt its contents were left especially for me. After putting Reaper back into her stall, I’d waited nearly half an hour for Kroft to come. Enough time for someone to have come and left the gift.

I crawled to an opposite corner and threw up.

My breath was returning, and I tried to focus. On what, it didn’t matter. As my eyes continued to adjust, I realized the commode was in a different corner in this cell. Then it dawned on me that I was in the same room as Benny when he told me about his brother. How long ago was that—three months? Four? It suddenly didn’t seem long ago at all. I drew my knees close and tried to gather positive thoughts.

Reaper.

I saved her from a murderous bastard. She took a saddle in the open field. She let me ride her. I didn’t know if Mickey had seen, but I told myself he had. I thought of us playing crazy eights the night before. Then, my thoughts transcended the ranch. I thought of Jimmy Curio from back home. Playing ball. Carrie Francello wearing a new dress. I thought of my mother.

Suddenly, in the dark, I thought I heard Benny’s voice, whispering to me. The voice was so real, so alive. It made me feel for the first time that he was truly dead. I had never wanted to believe that, but months had passed. I had seen the inside of his skull. Maybe his ghost was back to keep me company. I know how that sounds. But there, in that pitch-black cell, things were different. You heard better, I swear you did. As if your ears made up for what your eyes couldn’t show you.

“Anyone over there?” I whispered. I was afraid to ask, afraid of what might answer back.

Silence. The wind, outside.

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