LIFERS Chapter Sixteen

When Billy Fisher barged in the stationroom and stalled the plan to get Vicky from the cell, Gregg only recognised his dirty orange vest and that spiky hand-like hair-do. Most of his face had been eaten away by the rain and only one of his eyes remained in its socket, the other, his left, swung loose over his visible cheek-bone. His right ear rested on the side of his neck near to his shoulder and there was a hole where his nose once was. His rack of pointed, yellowed teeth and blood-red gums, were also visible as the flesh from his jaw dangled loose above his chest like melted cheese.

Gregg thought Billy was trying to say something, but all he caught were gurgled sounds and high-pitched cries. And as he continued forward with the gait of Frankenstein’s monster, Gregg raised his gun and followed his progress across the room.

Hal stood from the bench. ‘Shoot him,’ he shouted. ‘For fuck’s sake, shoot the kid; don’t let him suffer like this.’

But Gregg didn’t shoot; he only watched as Billy crossed the room and reached through the bars for Hal.

Hal reached through from his side and held Billy in his arms. ‘What ya done, Billy?’ he said, his voice subdued.

With several cracks of braking bone, Hal started to crush him against the bars of the cell. A strained, elongated “Eeeeurch” came from the side of Billy’s neck along with bubbles of bloody water. Thirty seconds later, Billy let out an almost inaudible rasp as the last of his breath was pressed from his lungs. And although the staionroom door was still ajar, a peculiar silence seemed to engulf the room. Hal then slackened his hold and allowed Billy to fall from his grip.

Gregg looked past him to see Vicky slide sideways along the bench…

Hal glared at him. ‘S’pose you think that was smart, huh, hot-shot? Letting him suffer like that.’

…she bent, picked up the prod…

‘And I s’pose you think I’m just gonna let that go? Even though I got blondie here to take it out on.’ he thumbed backward.

…she stood, the prod outstretched...

‘S’bout time you learned the consequencies of your actions, hot-shot.’

…she pressed the button.

Hal wheeled on the spot, snatched the prod, gripped Vicky by the hair and lifted her two feet off the floor. She screamed and kicked in a bid to free herself but there was no hope of that. Then Hal spun again to put her between Gregg and himself.

‘Go ahead,’ he said, goading through clenched teeth. ‘Let’s see if you’ve got the guts to pull the fuckin’ trigger now.’

Gregg raised his gun, took aim.

‘No,’ Jill shouted, and once more pulled down his arm. ‘You might hit Vicky.’

Hal pulled back the hand holding the cattle-prod, and, with a malevolent glint, looked at Jill. ‘Oh yeah,’ he said. ‘Mes parent’s adoptifs, sont Français.’

Gregg had no idea what the maniac just said to Jill, but it was enough to make her pale over and grip the desk to steady herself.

His final words were, ‘Oeil pour oeil, cette Billy’s vie pour la vie.’

The next thing Gregg heard was the crackle and hum of electricity, and he’d already experienced what comes next. He raised his gun again and expected Jill to stop him, but this time she didn’t attempt to intervene. Only problem was, he didn’t have anything close to a clear shot. The best he could manage was the hand holding Vicky off the floor. He aimed, squeezed the trigger, and then saw the cattle-prod exit Vicky’s lower chest as it tore through her T-shirt, the crackling reduced to an intermittent buzz as her electrified innards clung to its prongs. Blood spewed from her mouth and choked her screams into strained gargles of agony as Hal continued to use her as a shield. A few moments later her bodily spasms ceased.

Jill screamed and ran at the bars as Gregg altered his aim and pulled off two rapid taps, the first hitting Vicky in her left shoulder, the second hitting Hal in his left cheek, and still he held her aloft. Gregg moved to the front of the cell and pushed his arm through to ensure his third shot struck home. The bullet hit Hal on the side of his head just above his left ear and sent bloody brain matter and skull fragments across the cell wall. And like David watched as Goliath fell, Gregg did the same.

Jill grabbed the keys from off the desk and through tear-filled eyes fumbled with them; her nose ran, her hands shook, but she managed to get the door open and rush in to kneel beside her friend’s lifeless body. She lifted Vicky’s head onto her knees and brushed blood-stained bangs from her face as she sobbed and told her over and over how sorry she was.

Gregg needed to allow Jill a few minutes of privacy with Vicky, so he entered the cell to check Hal for signs of life. And even though he himself may have recovered from his clash with the car, he didn’t think Hal would recover after he’d sustained such a head wound, but he wasn’t about to take any chances.

He found a length of a snapped broom handle in a corner of the room and used it to close the door Billy left open after he stumbled in. He then dragged Hal’s chair into the opposite cell to stand on and used the broom handle again to close and bolt the hatch. That done, he tucked one of Hal’s feet under each of his arms and draggaed him from one cell to the other. Hal was a big man, bigger than any line-backer, but Gregg wasn’t expecting him to weigh almost half a ton.

After the struggle of getting him into the cell, Gregg took the keys from where Jill had left them and spread-eagled him on the floor to start locking the shackles over his wrists and ankles. Then, using the chair once again, he released the bolts and allowed the hatch to fall open as he jumped clear.

As he’d hoped, the rain coming through the hatch bounced of Hal’s face, but that’s all it did. The drops simply rolled off after causing no damage of their own. Hal was one of them, he felt sure of it, but if that was so, wouldn’t this have proved it? Shouldn’t his face be melting about now?

He sighed, turned, and tossed the keys back to the desk before going to see how Jill was doing. He bent and put his right hand on her left shoulder. Jill placed Vicky’s head back on the cell floor and stood; she wiped her eyes with the heel of each hand and turned to Gregg.

‘I can’t believe she’s gone,’ she told him.

Gregg had no words to offer as he wrapped his arms around her and allowed her to sob into his chest for many long minutes. And it was only when he felt sure she’d calmed enough to answer some questions that he spoke.

‘Jill, I have to ask you,’ he said, putting a little space between them. ‘What did Hal say, before …?’

Again she used the heel of each hand and sniffed a runny nose. ‘He said his adopted parents were French, and then he said, “An eye for an eye, this life for Billy’s life.”’

‘So he knew the plan all along.’

Jill nodded then looked at Hal. ‘Who’d’ve thought that fucker had any kind of education being what he was?’

‘I’m not sure he was one of them.’

‘What?’

He pointed. ‘Look at the rain, Jill, it’s not burning him.’

‘You’re wrong,’ she said. ‘I flicked water over him earlier and it burned him just like it did you.’

Gregg looked at Billy’s corpse. ‘I need Hal’s gloves, can you get them?’

Jill tried not to look at Hal’s face as she pulled his gloves off. ‘Here,' she said, passing them to Gregg.’

Gregg slipped them on to find them as big as pillow cases, he gripped Billy’s wet clothing and turned him over to rip off the dirty orange vest, and, like he thought, Billy’s back hadn’t been affected by the rain as much as his face had. He managed to get him upright at the door of the cell and shoved him forward to land face down on top of Hal.

Gregg and Jill watched the rain bounce off Billy’s remains also. They saw no smoke, heard no hissing, and smelled no burning.
‘Maybe it’s the rain,’ Jill said. ‘Perhaps it won’t burn you anymore,’

Gregg wasn’t too sure about that, over the last couple of hours he sensed a phobia had developed where water was concerned, even the sound of the rain coming through the hatch made him uneasy, but like the saying goes, nothing ventured nothing gained. He removed one glove and held his hand under the open hatch.

No good.

‘Okay, if it still burns you and not them, it could mean they’re cured for one simple reason.’

He had a good idea what she thought that simple reason might be. ‘You think it’s because they’re dead, right?’

Jill shrugged. ‘Like I said, it could be.

‘Not really a cure though, is it?’

She shook her head. ‘No, I suppose not.’

Gregg removed the other glove, tossed it to the desk. ‘We need to get out of here before anyone else shows up.’

‘I thought we agreed that none of them would risk coming out in this?’

‘It’s very possible they won’t, but these two could be missed and others might come looking for them.’

‘But if you go out in that rain you’ll end up with a face like his,’ she said, pointing to Billy.

Gregg took the keys from the desk and handed them to her. ‘That’s why you need to get the patrol car and bring it out front. When I see it there with the rear door open, I’ll run out and dive in.’

Jill looked at Vicky, sighed, then nodded. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘But when we do get help, we’re coming back with them, because where ever they take Vicky, I want to be with her when her mum and dad arrive.’