The Target

Each impact sounded like a melon being hit with a hammer.

 

The first blow knocked Junior out.

 

The second blow clearly killed him.

 

The third blow was just because Albert wanted to.

 

Albert let go and the knife clattered to the floor.

 

Junior slid halfway off his bed. His body was held there by the chain bolted to the wall. Albert took a step back and looked at the blood, hair, and brain matter on his baton. He used Junior’s sheet to wipe it off.

 

He looked around and said, “It’s okay. He’s not going to hurt nobody no more.” He looked back at Junior. “Dumb sonofabitch.”

 

“Holy Lord, Albert, you done saved us all,” said Earl. “No telling what that crazy man was gonna do with that there blade.”

 

“All he’s gonna do now is nothing,” said Albert with finality. He looked over at Earl and a glimmer of a smile crossed his lips. To everyone, he said, “I’ll report this here incident. Everybody saw what happened, right?”

 

Earl nodded vigorously. “I sure as hell did. Maniac was trying to kill us with that there knife. Saw it clear as day. He knows his ass is gonna get lethal-injected. Probably wanted to take as many of us with him as he could. Bastard ain’t got nothing to lose. Can’t execute him twice, right?”

 

“Right,” said Albert. He surveyed the room again. “Right?”

 

Everyone in the room, from the prisoners to the staff, nodded back.

 

Albert smiled and looked satisfied. “We good then. I’ll get the boys come get this pile’a trash. Least now we don’t have to spend the money to execute his sorry ass.”

 

He turned and walked off.

 

Earl settled back against his pillow, trying hard to hide his smile as he stared over at the dead Junior. The same male nurse who had chastised him for wanting to smoke while hooked to oxygen came over to him.

 

“Damn,” said the nurse. “Where the hell did Junior get that knife?”

 

Earl slowly shook his head. “No telling. You better count your scalpels and all that stuff. Sonofabitch probably took it from one of you.”

 

“But he’s chained to a wall. And what was he going to do with it?”

 

“Wait till somebody got close and take ’em hostage, I betcha,” said Earl. “They gonna kill his ass. He wants outta here. Last chance, right?”

 

“Damn, talk about your evil scum.”

 

“That’s right,” said Earl as he puffed up his pillow and lay back, still watching Junior’s blood drip down the sheets. “Talk about your evil scum. Trying to beat the hangman, that sumbitch. After all the shit he done pulled in his sorry-ass life. Good riddance, I say.”

 

“What is the world coming to?” said the nurse.

 

It’s coming, thought Earl. It’s coming all right. It’s coming right to me.

 

An investigation crew came in and took some pictures and did some forensic analysis, but everyone in the ward could tell their hearts were hardly in it. A man who had committed vile murders and was scheduled to be executed for these crimes had tried to kill people with a stolen knife. Then he’d had his brains bashed in by a heroic prison guard for his troubles.

 

They couldn’t have cared less.

 

Later, Earl watched as a prison crew came in and took Junior away and then cleaned up the area.

 

Earl kept his gaze on the black body bag until it disappeared out the door.

 

Then he closed his eyes and grinned.

 

Under his breath he said, “Nighty-night, Junior.”