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“Are you telling me that the government had Jim Morrison and Elvis fucking killed, man?” Artimus yelled out. He was a huge conspiracy freak.
“Hell no. Elvis died taking a shit and no one will ever know what happened to Morrison. But it was weird just knowing that our government was so freaked about rock and roll that they would tail musicians and keep files on them. There’s even a file about them putting a tail on Morrison’s old lady before she died of a horse overdose in Los Angeles. I think that the navy was uncomfortable about Morrison because his old man was an admiral. Me and Zak were in such deep shit at that point and I was just looking for anything that could give me a little leverage on these bastards. That’s why I copied the files.”
“Shit, they’ve gotta be worth big bucks. Where are the files now?”
“My sister did have them. I mailed them to her just before the real heavy shit went down.
They came in real handy down the road.”
“So you killed them, didn’t you?” Artimus asked with one of his shit eating grins. “The two narcs. Fuckers deserved it if you ask me. You stole the Elvis and Jimbo files and killed the narcs. That’s why the Feds are chasing you.”
“I didn’t kill anyone. I stole the files. But no. They took care of all that killing shit themselves.”
St. Peter
The flame that shot out of that can of Right Guard when we sparked it was like a flame thrower, and it lit the cell up like it was high noon instead of after three in the morning. We had lucked out on who was on duty that night.
It was this biker and a fat chick who always came in on duty and gave a quick sweep of the unit and would then spend the rest of the night watching videos or sleeping. I had gotten up late one night with a severe case of cotton mouth and had gone out to the day room to get a drink from the water fountain. I had seen these two sleeping in the control bubble. The biker had taken his watch off and had hung it from the frame on his glasses so the alarm would wake him. By monitoring the night staff, I had also come to the conclusion that they had to make hourly phone checks to the control center.
I had stood at my door at three o’clock and watched them until they made their call and snuggled in back together. I was hoping that they didn’t decide to fuck. They had done that one night when I was watching them. Erotic it was not. I then waited for what seemed about ten minutes and snuck down to Cedar’s cell. He was up and raring to go.
The minute the flame hit the glass you could see that it was going to work. It seemed to start melting almost immediately. But the can of deodorant got so fucking hot that we’d have to stop and change cans and let the other one cool down. Once we had to stop because a car drove up the main driveway, but it was just a night staff doing a outer security round and he moved on. Halfway through the last can, the hole had gotten big enough that I’d be able to fit my shoulders through it. Cedar was so goddamn skinny he could slip down the shower drain. Winter air was rushing in through the window. All we had to do now was was cool the sides of the hole down with a wet towel and we’d be out of there. I was just hoping to God or Buddha or whoever may be watching that Cedar’s mongoloid friends would be waiting for us.
Rendezvous time was set for 4:30 a.m. The staff kept our coats under lock and key, so we began to put on as many of our other clothes as we could. If anyone tried to stop us now, things were going to have to get ugly. I had never killed anyone in my life. But I wasn’t going to prison.