Wednesday - Chapter 5
On his second day guarding Grady Perlson, Eric Vanger makes an important choice.
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In the alcove beneath Starks Prison, Eric sat at the desk with the procedure binder open to a random page. Bent forward, he stared at the block of text describing what to do if a prisoner escaped. He pretended to read but knew it wouldn’t matter.
Jim leaned in the brick archway, showing his teeth with a grin. “Look at you being a good Boy Scout. Hope you ain’t doing that to score points with the warden. If Big George stops by, it won’t be to see you.”
Eyes down, Eric focused on last night’s dream—the potential of what his life could be. If he lost sight of it, he’d chicken out, but this was something he needed to do. For his family. Wasn’t the most important job of a husband and father to do whatever was necessary to provide for them? It was important enough to skip the funeral for his best friend’s dad and avoid his wife all morning until he kissed her goodbye.
Pulling his shoulder from the wall, Jim sauntered out to the cell block. “You’re in some mood today. Boring me damn close to tears. I’m going for a cigarette.”
Without looking up, Eric said, “Bring me a coffee.”
“Well, shit. It does speak.” Jim let the stairwell door clang shut behind him.
Alone, Eric put his face in his hands. It had to be now or he’d lose his nerve. Pushing his chair back, he opened the drawer for the ring of cell keys. One hand braced on the desk as he stood, the stiff weight of his bad leg making a silent protest. After surgeries, rehab, and drugs, its pain and limitations were about to leave him. Hope for the miracle drew his slow limp under the arch.
Pain motivated Eric among the cells but abandoned him at the first hint of yellow jumpsuit down the block. Doubt replaced determination, each lurching step a reminder of how wrong this was. In the best case scenario, he’d be fired. In the worst, he’d be dead.
When Eric was halfway down the block, Grady stood from his cot and went to the cell door. He was too far away to tell, but Eric imagined his eyes were black—a hard thing to hope for but even harder as he approached the dark, waiting stare.
In his last steps, Eric lowered his eyes to his own feet. “I thought about what you said.”
“And?”
Eric raised the keys, heavier than they were a minute before. His hand shook as he searched for the one he needed and slid it into the lock. A sharp, metallic click brought the door open a half-inch, leaving nothing but hinges between the world and a living monster.
Grady offered a sympathetic smile. “You thought it would be this easy?”
“I thought this was what you wanted.”
“You believe in my power, enough to set me free, but don’t think I could snap these bars if I wanted?”
“Then what?” Eric asked.
“A new life costs its value. A life for a life is only fair.”
“You want me to kill someone?” With the question, Eric wondered if he could, for his family and for himself.
“Think it over, but don’t take long. This day has happened many times, but the week won’t last forever.”
Pulling the cell door closed, Grady locked it and tossed the keys to Eric. Despite his blank stare, he caught them. They rattled in his trembling hand, all his anticipation for nothing.
As Jim’s footsteps echoed down the stairs, Eric limped back to the alcove as fast as his brace allowed. His knee ached with every hobble, reminding him how his life would pan out if he didn’t do what Grady wanted. Helping a prisoner escape was one thing, taking a life much darker. Every time he looked in his daughter’s face, he’d see his victim and feel ashamed. All to bend his knee.
At the desk, Eric dropped the keys in the drawer and plopped into the chair. Sweating and shaking, he returned his focus to the open binder.
With a clank of the stairwell door, Jim whistled through the alcove with two coffees. He set one in front of Eric and took his to the arch, leaning in the exact spot he had ten minutes ago. “I miss anything?”
If Jim wasn’t family, Eric wouldn’t mind killing him.
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