Souls to the Left by S J Burton

Author:S J Burton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Prision, Crime, Punishment, Escape, Retribution, Justice, Law Enforcement, Law
ISBN: 9781849895149
Publisher: Andrews UK Limited
Published: 2011-07-25T00:00:00+00:00

Beneath their feet, the ground slopes gently downwards and Marcus tries not to think about where they are going, though his imagination, fueled with enough material to fill a book, is clearly not about to let it go to waste.

I’m going to hang, he thought. They’ve decided locking me up isn’t good enough anymore and they’re going to string me up and watch me dangle. Maybe they think that’s just punishment. Maybe they think because I strangled Karen, they should throttle me.

Shit, I wish I’d shot the fucking bitch now.

At least that would be quick.

They walk on. Marcus trembles. His fists clenched at his side, metaphorically fighting the demons that storm through his head with their vivid pictures of his neck being stretched.

His bowels rumble and he holds in a fart, gazing along a tunnel that hasn’t altered since the last time he walked it.

Cold stone, brackish water. A floor peppered with tiny bits of grit that dig into the softer parts of his feet and make him wince. He wishes he had shoes. He wishes he had clothes. He wishes he could stop his heart and put an end to his suffering.

He looks up, remembering the overhead grills, and hoping to see a brief glimpse of the night sky or the vapour trail from a plane. But the ceiling, stretching before him in brick after brick offers no other reward than a few frail, delicate weed-like plants nestling amongst the ancient grouting.

They come to the metal gate. The same guard who let him through the first time lumbers to his feet. His attitude towards Marcus hasn’t softened.

“ Pissed himself?” He says, sniffing in Marcus’s direction. “ God, it don’t take long does it? Bloody wankers.” He pokes Marcus in the chest. “ Not so bloody hard now are ya?” He spits. “ Now ya ain’t got no wife to fuckin’ strangle? Christ, look at you. Standing there naked with yer cock hangin’ out. Bloody wimp!”

He lets them through.

Marcus doesn’t say a word. He daren’t. Too busy bracing himself against the crack across the shoulders he feels sure is coming the moment he comes abreast of the guard.

The guard laughs at him. “ Wimp.” He sneers. “ You’re gonna die in here, you know that? Rot away like a bag of mouldy carrots. And not one lousy fucker will care.”

The gate crashes shut behind them. The guard goes back to his newspaper.

Marcus follows ‘Knuckle face’. They turn right and enter yet another interminable stretch of tunnel. They keep to the left.

It is colder here and Marcus wraps his free hand across his chest, feeling goose bumps beneath his fingers as he tries to rub some warmth back into his frozen flesh.

His breath catches in his throat as the floor dips sharply again and they take yet another right turn.

He has been here before! He is sure of it. Well, maybe not precisely here. No one goes into Blackridge, has a nice look around and then goes out again, but he recognizes this place.

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