#21 Jackson Crow – Guard
The moment that the air conditioner broke, we knew that it was about to hit the fan. Two thousand prisoners in a prison designed for half that, record high temperatures for two weeks and no air conditioning, it was a time bomb made of concrete.
Every one of us knows it’s coming. We’re just praying that it happens on someone else’s shift. Daniels’ son managed to rupture his appendix, even though he doesn’t have a wife much less a kid. Nobody’s really angry at Daniels. If we thought the warden would buy it, we might try it too.
Things had been building for awhile, ever since Vince Arculato was hit on the exercise yard. When there are one hundred people in the yard and no witnesses, it means that it was big hit. Big hits mean big moves, and big moves mean Trouble.
I almost miss it when it kicks off. There isn’t any big sign, like one of the ‘victs shouting, “LIGHT IT UP!†No there’s just a tiny groan followed by a weak little wheeze coming from one of the cells. I walk up and see the spreading pool of red on the floor. Lionel Kutter, head of the Negro Republic, just got shanked in his bunk. A trustee is already spreading the word, and the dull rumble of the prison is ramping up to a roar.
People are beating against the bars and everyone’s getting ready to settle their grudges. This shit is about blow sky high.