Lock sank to his knees, letting rip with a primal scream. Then a black tunnel was all around him, sucking him back into the sky and away from being able to help either Carrie or Ty.
Lock woke to the sound of his cell phone’s alarm, the gun still by his side, the steering wheel in front of him. Disoriented by the images from his nightmare, he peered out of the windshield and both side windows, a thin sheen of sweat coating his face. He wiped the worst of it away with his sleeve, opened the door of the car and stepped out into the fresh air, shaking out the cramp from his legs. He took a walk round the rest stop area, then got back in the car, took a sip of water, wishing it were coffee, started the engine and continued his journey.
It was dusk by the time Lock drove past the unmanned security booth and into the parking lot that fronted the administration building of the prison. Coming in this way, a visitor would have little idea of the security that lay beyond. He pushed open the main door, stepped on to the sparkling linoleum that covered the lobby floor, then took a left towards the warden’s office. The two middle-aged women who served as administrators were packing up, ready to go home.
Lieutenant Williams stepped from his office next to the warden’s. He didn’t look particularly pleased to see Lock.
‘Warden Marquez still here?’ Lock asked him. ‘It won’t take long.’
Williams hitched up his equipment belt. ‘Thought you might have had enough of this place for a lifetime,’ he observed, turning into the warden’s office.
Marquez emerged a few moments later. ‘It’s not a good time, Lock,’ he said.
‘The timing isn’t of my choosing. I guess you heard about events in Medford?’
Marquez rubbed his prosthetic eye. ‘We got the SHU and the mainline on lockdown because of it.’
‘Problem?’
‘Soon as word came that the AB leadership had been wiped out, the Nazi Low Riders made their move.’
‘What kind of move?’
‘Told all the white inmates that anyone that was AB could either switch to the NLR or die.’
‘What about the AB leader who survived? I heard he was shipped back here. You still have him?’
‘He was smart, he PCed up,’ said Marquez.
PC, Lock knew, stood for protective custody. There was a separate part of solitary reserved for these prisoners.
‘I’d like to speak to him if I may.’
Lock waited for a speech about how his request breached protocol. Instead, Marquez glanced at Williams with his good eye while his other eye stayed on Lock.
Williams shrugged. ‘He might not want to speak to you.’
‘And Phileas. I’d like a moment with him too.’
Williams’s mustache curled up at its tips as he smiled. ‘I bet you would.’
‘If anyone here knows what Reaper’s next move is, he does.’
Warden Marquez crossed to a desk and lifted the phone. ‘I’m not making you any promises, Lock.’
‘Fine by me. I’ve had enough promises to last me a lifetime.’
45
The tension was plain in the faces of the guards as Williams escorted Lock across the vast expanse of No Man’s Land towards the SHU. They passed through a second control point, then swung a left into the part of the SHU known as the Transitional Housing Unit. This was where the lone AB leader — William Young, Williams had told Lock, though he went by the moniker Pinky — was being held. Lock tried to conjure the man’s face from the trial, but with their facial hair, the AB leaders had looked more or less broadly alike.
Pinky was waiting for Lock in a small anteroom off one of the main spurs. For someone who’d recently cheated death, he looked calm, although Lock knew better than most that appearance in this environment was essential to a person’s survival. Even giving the impression of being weak or, worse, scared was a good way to get yourself killed. He was glad he had this at the front of his mind because Williams wasn’t for hanging around.
‘I’m going to look into your other request, if that’s OK with you?’ Williams said.
‘I’ll be fine. Would you mind if your officer here stands outside?’
Williams nodded to the guard, and they both left the room.
Lock settled into a chair opposite Pinky. ‘Miracle we both got out of there alive.’
Pinky stared at Lock stony-faced. ‘Build rapport. I like it.’
‘Just making an observation.’
‘You’re the crazy man they brought in to keep Reaper alive, ain’t you?’
‘The one and only.’
‘Maybe if you hadn’t done as good a job my brothers would still be alive,’ Pinky said, eyes narrowing.
‘If you want me to pretend I have sympathy,’ Lock said, holding his palms open, ‘sorry, I’m all out. But I think we can agree on one thing.’
‘And what’s that?’
‘We both got played by Reaper.’
Pinky tugged at his mustache with a cuffed hand. ‘Nah, brother. You got played. We knew all along what Reaper was about.’
‘And what was that?’
Pinky seemed to study Lock. ‘Let’s just say we had i-dee-ah-logical differences.’
‘He claimed you were all about the green, and he was all about the white,’ said Lock, referencing the colour of money.
Pinky smiled. ‘Man, you’re nothing but a tourist. You don’t know our world.’
Lock put his hands up, conceding the point. ‘Then explain it to me.’
Pinky seemed to mull it over. His foot tapped out a military cadence, and he stared at it as if it wasn’t under his control.
‘You’re looking at a death sentence anyway, Pinky. The NLR are going to run things now, and they’ll be looking to mop up someone like you. Maybe I can speak to someone, get you shipped somewhere safer?’
‘My attorneys are already working on that.’
‘So what are you going to do when the cash from selling drugs starts to dry up? The AB’s a busted flush now, you know it and so do I. The people who sprang Reaper, they’re the same people who killed Prager, aren’t they?’ Lock leaned towards him, trying to establish eye contact. ‘The woman, Pinky. Who is she?’
‘I’ve got about as much of an idea about that as you,’ Pinky said. Then he too leaned in so that there were maybe three feet between his face and Lock’s. ‘You want to know the funny part of this whole deal?’
‘Go on,’ said Lock. ‘I could use a chuckle or two.’
‘We didn’t green-light Prager.’
‘So who did?’
‘Reaper.’
Lock sat back. ‘So why didn’t you just tell that to Jalicia Jones?’
Pinky gave Lock a broad grin. ‘We were about to, but Jones wouldn’t deal. She had the version of events she wanted.’
Lock thought this through. Jalicia had certainly been obsessed with getting a conviction against the AB, so what Pinky was saying made sense in a weird sort of way. It still left a lot of unanswered questions though.
‘Why’d you wait so long? Why let it go as far as a trial?’
Pinky glanced from one corner of the box-like room to another. ‘Hell, we wasn’t about to miss the change of scenery.’
From there on in, Pinky clammed up. He didn’t know who Reaper’s people on the outside were. He didn’t know who the woman was, or whether they were planning to flee the country. What’s more, he was past caring. They’d all been suckered according to Pinky, and now Reaper had what he wanted. The AB was finished and he was out of Pelican Bay.
When Lock stepped out of the room, Lieutenant Williams was waiting for him in the short stretch of corridor. His arms were folded across his chest.
‘I spoke to Phileas.’
‘And?’
‘He says you can go to hell.’
Lock sighed. He hadn’t expected anything else.
‘But there’s more,’ said Williams. ‘We just decoded a kite that’s been going out to all Nazi Low Rider members.’
‘What did it say?’
Williams’s eyes fell away from Lock’s. ‘You and your buddy, Ty…’
‘What about us?’ Lock asked, tensing, not liking Williams’s refusal to meet his eye.