CHAPTER 13
Havre, Montana
When Tom had been in prison, he’d taken an online Introduction to Psychology course. One of the topics they discussed was Lorenz’s concept of learned helplessness: how people believed that there was nothing they could do to help themselves even when opportunities for betterment arose.
As Tom looked around the enclosure, he thought that prisons and places like this were what Lorenz had been talking about. The inmates outnumbered the guards by forty-to-one, but no one had any thoughts of rebellion. After only a few hours, they had all learned that lesson too well.
The first day, Tom had been in shock. He kept thinking he wasn’t really here, that any moment he was going to open his eyes and wake up. His only awakening had been the realization that whoever set this place up didn’t care who died in the process. He’d helped carry four abused and emaciated bodies into the pit in just the first two days. After that, he’d stopped counting.
Last night, although exhausted, he again hadn’t slept. He kept trying to think of a way to escape. But there were too many guards, too many guns, and nowhere to run to. By dawn, he’d reached an uncomfortable truth: the only way he was getting out of here was as a corpse. His destiny was in that pit outside, with all the others held here.
And it wasn’t just the place that convinced him of that. It was the reality of his life. Who would be looking for him? Who cared enough about whether he lived or died? His Gran cared, but she’d been the last of his family. There were the people from the church. They probably just thought he skipped town. Cleo slipped into his mind. Did she think he’d just left? He’d finally found the right girl and now it was gone. She’d write him off.
An image of Jake appeared in his mind and gave him pause. He’d always hoped he’d see him again, that maybe they could be friends once more. He thought of the last time he’d seen Jake. He’d been only eleven. Jake was leaving for boot camp and had just walked out the door to head to the bus station. Tom had watched from the porch until Jake turned the corner, feeling like his world was ending with each step Jake took.
He’d slowly walked back into the house. He’d whirled around when the door flew open again. Jake grabbed him in a giant, crushing hug, and whispered into his ear. “I’ll miss you, little man.” And then he was gone.
Tears pooled in Tom’s eyes when he thought of that hug. Jake had cared. He knew he did. But Jake didn’t know he was missing. He hadn’t even seen him in almost ten years. And if he did know, why would Jake come looking for him? He was an ex-gang-banger con.
Tom ducked his head down as a guard walked by, spearing his shovel into the dirt as tears slowly made tracks through the dust on his face. No, he was on his own. No one would be looking for him.