At least we’d be safe, get a warm meal and maybe some rest. Gertrude was a decent human being. Hopefully life treated her well when we went on our way in the morning. I’d be sure to send her a card next Christmas or maybe some flowers or something since I wasn’t sure how much she could see. I’d evensign it offfrom Daryl.
If I was gonna make myself out to be a liar, I might as well spare an old woman some heartache while I was at it.
The cuckoo clock kept ticking behind me, and I couldn’t help but stare at the picture of Gertrude hanging on the wall. Just her, no family in sight. They’d all abandoned her in some way, and here we were about to do the same thing. Use her for her kindness and ditch her.
Convicts indeed.
Never in my life did I feel more like a monster than in this moment. Not even after I turned myself in for murdering my wife. It was a mortal sin, ya know. The kind that didn’t come with forgiveness. No amount of “Hail Marys” or “Our Fathers” could save this damned soul of mine.
But Margie had been sick. Suffering, and the doctors had refused to give her any sort of relief. She’d begged me just to let her sleep. Suicide was another mortal sin. So, I’d had a choice to make, my soul or hers. The answer was simple. My wife had been a good woman, far better than me. She deserved to go to heaven. If that made me a villain for giving her the morphine that ended her suffering and took her life, so be it.
I glanced down at my watch, even though I could still hear the clock ticking from the living room. I was starting to get anxious. Maybe the guys couldn’t find the cabin. They hadn’t even been headed in the right direction when they made a left instead of a right after turning out of the gates.
I sighed and wiped my mouth with the napkin Gertrude gave me. “Uh, Gran, I’m gonna go check on the others, make sure they didn’t get lost.”
“Of course, dearie! I’ll have a plate ready for you all when you return.”
As soon as I stepped outside the door, the cold air slapping me in the face, I took a deep breath and made my way back towards the prison. The storm was picking up, and the chill traveled through my pants and scrub top, while the surgical cap on my head was too porous to protect my bald head from anything.
That was it!They probably got turned around in the blizzard. It was one thing we didn’t discuss in detail. What to do if the roads were blocked.
I followed the tracks until the silhouette of the van appeared in the distance. Parked in plain sight, while the fumes puffed out of the exhaust like these dummies were trying to get caught.
Shaking my head, I jogged out in front of them, waving my arms and calling out, “Guys! It’s okay! The cabin’s just down her?—”
My words were cut off as the van pulled back onto the road and headed in my direction. I skidded to a stop and watched as the high beams flashed across my face.
They were driving too fast. Closer and closer, the engine revving, and the uneven terrain causing the rusted shocks to bounce the cab around.
“What the fuck?” I waved my arms again but they weren’t slowing down.“Hey!” I shouted, diving out of the way before they plowed me over. I rolled across the road and landed on my back in a pile of snow. “Guys! Stop! It’s me, Prat!” I called out again.
But they couldn’t hear me and they didn’t stop. Instead, they were backing up and launching forward. This time I had no chance to get out of the way, and I screamedas the tires cracked my ribs and mangled my legs. I couldn’t move. I was paralyzed, unable to do anything but stare up at the night sky, the twinkling stars, and the blinding headlights.
They… hit me…
I heard the driver’s side door open and tried to crane my neck to get a better look. But all I could see was a woman. Red hair the color of the fires of hell dangling over me. She tilted her head, sliding a finger down my broken body and across my borrowed scrubs.
“Sorry, Doc. But I will not go back there,” she whispered, her voice sounding both sad and amused.
“Please… don’t…” I choked out.
“Aw, what’s that I hear? You wanna play, huh?” She sighed, tugging on my scrub bottoms and using her cold hands to stroke me hard. I hadn’t let another woman touch me since my wife. And that’s when the truth landed like a punch to my gut…
This was hell. That’s what this was. I’d died and gone to hell.
It was the only way my brain could process what was happening, my body numb to the cold. To the heat between her thighs as she mounted me. To the pain in what was left of my legs. I couldn’t fight her. I couldn’t breathe, the fire in my lungs drowning me as sure as the flames in the pits of hell.
I’m sorry, guys.
“Shhh. Go to sleep, Doc. Everything will be okay.”
I’m sorry, Margie.
With a stuttering breath, I closed my eyes. And my last thought was that, in the end, there was no freedom for me.
I’d died a prisoner.
CHAPTER 33
