Those Who Came Before by J.H. Moncrieff

Author:J.H. Moncrieff
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Flame Tree Publishing
Published: 2019-08-19T11:03:35+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

“Wake up. Hey man, wake up.” A man’s voice interrupted my sleep, but for a moment, I thought it was part of my dream.

“Oh, isn’t that sweet. Would you look at that? Ol’ Crazyhorse has made a friend.”

“Have to be in pretty sad shape to make friends with that.”

“You know what they say about the company you keep. I think they’re perfect for each other.”

The man’s tone was kindly, but there was something underneath, like the stench of rot under cloying air freshener, that made me open my eyes.

“Your beauty sleep is over, Wallace. We have to talk to you.”

“Yeah,” another man said. “We need to tell you a few things.”

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I blinked. Without windows, it was impossible to tell what time of day it was. I had no idea how long I’d been out, but I was exhausted. It was as if I’d gotten no sleep at all.

I looked across the cell at Crazyhorse, and my chest tightened. Something was wrong. The man huddled in the far corner of his cot, his knees clutched to his chest like he wanted to disappear.

“Hey, Wallace, I’m talking to you. You better start showing us some respect.”

There was a loud metal clang. The man who had arrested me waited at the bars of our cell. He had a friend with him, and they both grinned.

I’d encountered his type many times before. I suspect every guy had. He was a bully, and you couldn’t show fear in front of a bully. It only made them feel more powerful. I wanted to shake my cellmate, tell him to grow a pair, but of course it was too late. The men were already laughing at his reaction, having a great ol’ time.

“Have you slept it off yet, you crazy Wagon Burner?” the guy’s friend asked, leering at my cellmate through the bars. “You won’t want a drink again by the time we’re done with you.”

“Yep, our program is a lot quicker than AA.” The man who’d arrested me slapped a baton against his palm. “Instead of twelve steps, there are only two. Me hitting you, and you hitting the floor.”

“Wow, that’s original.” I made a big show of rolling my eyes. “The eighties called. They want their joke back.”

He swiveled his head toward me, baring his teeth. With his beady eyes and thin nostrils, he reminded me of a snake. Which was a huge insult to snakes everywhere. “Are you saying you want to go first, Wallace? Is that what you’re saying? Because I reckon me and Dean here could beat the murder-loving rapist right out of you.”

I heard a muffled cry and looked over to see Crazyhorse shaking his head at me. If he wanted to feed those assholes with his fear, that was his prerogative. I wasn’t about to give them the pleasure. “In that case, your work here is done, because I’m not a murder and I’m not a rapist.”

The asshole cop snorted at me. “Yeah, you seem real innocent, sitting in that cell.

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