CHAPTER 18
Havre, Montana
Tom lay on the hard ground staring at the sky. Dawn had broken hours ago, but it wasn’t his shift yet. He wasn’t sure, but he thought they might be on twelve-hour shifts. Which meant he probably had a little time before he was yanked back into hell.
“Hey man, you sleep any?”
Tom looked over at Seeley, his dig partner. He and the muscled Latino had exchanged names during their shift when the guards weren’t looking.
“Not really, man. It was fucking freezing. Besides, I just kept trying to figure out how the hell I ended up here.”
Seeley nodded his formerly bald head. It was now covered in a light layer of black peach fuzz. “I know what you mean, man. I was doing the same thing. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t a saint by any stretch. I started banging at twelve, but I left that life behind. I got a kid, a girl. I don’t deserve this place.”
“Yeah, I joined the G7s when I was fourteen,” Tom smiled ruefully. “You know why they chose the name G7?”
Seeley shook his head.
“They said we’d all be flying in G7s and living the high life one day. Truth was, the only high life any of us led was the result of a blunt and most of us never even left the neighborhood, never mind flying in a private jet. And I looked up G7s when I was inside. They never even made a jet with that name. The highest they went was the G5.”
“What’d you go in for, anyway?” Seeley asked. Yesterday, Seeley had told him he’d gotten locked up for dealing. But before Tom could tell his story, a guard had moved only ten feet away from them. There’d been no conversations after that.
“Started as felonious murder, but it got knocked down to manslaughter.”
“No shit?” Seeley asked.
“No shit. I was the driver. But that didn’t matter, especially when one of my guys cut a deal with the district attorney. I got fifteen and he only got a nickel.”
Seeley grunted. “You know, they talk a good game about being brothers and staying loyal. But push comes to shove, that don’t mean shit. They’ll turn on you in a heartbeat.”
“Yeah. And the thing that kills me is that my Gran died while I was locked up. She was the only one who cared. She showed up to visit every week. Took her two buses and three hours each way. Didn’t matter. She always came.”
“Yeah. My girl was like that. She always showed up. My brothers? Didn’t see one of them.” Seeley paused and glanced at a movement behind Tom. “Hey man, heads up.”
Tom looked over his shoulder. The guards on the day shift were pulling up to the enclosure entrance. The first thing they did when they came on duty was wake up the workers. The usual wake-up involved some variation of a kindly greeting of, “Wake up, maggots!” followed by gunfire over the cage. Then, for the poor fools who were too exhausted to hear even that, a kick in the face or the back. That usually did the trick.
Tom’s stomach clenched as he watched the guards head towards him and the rest of the men stuck in the sleeping area, a smirk on their faces. They carried a fire hose over to the water spout outside the cage and hooked it up. Dragging it behind them, the two guards laughed as they headed for the cage entrance.
He glared through the wire. “Bastards.”