Hard Time by Anthony Papa Anne Mini Shaun Attwood Read Free Book Online Page B

voice, ‘What in the Sam Hill’s goin’ on in here?’
    When the Cuban yelled ‘Why you fuckin’ look at me?’ at the guard, the Mexican ducked under the guard’s arm and sprinted down the corridor.
    ‘Hell’s bells!’ The guard slammed the door and radioed for backup.
    I couldn’t resist vying for viewing room at the Plexiglas. Side by side, two guards were marching towards the Mexican, driving him back towards the hillbilly, who was blocking the corridor like a rugby forward eager to squash a winger. The Mexican feinted to the left, and the hillbilly lurched in that direction. The Mexican veered to the right and zigzagged around the guard.
    ‘This little fella’s quicker than a bob cat!’ the hillbilly yelled.
    Keys jingling and a staccato of radio interference announced the arrival of groups of guards at both ends of the corridor – big guards snapping on rubber gloves, marching with menace in their stride. The Mexican skidded into a U-turn and headed back towards the hillbilly. But within seconds he had nowhere to go. He swivelled his head wildly, appraising the situation like an animal aware of its imminent slaughter. Boots squealed as the guards fell upon him. He resisted briefly, kicking and yelping, but then curled into a ball. He was pinned down, picked up and thrown into a restraint chair. As they strapped him in, his tiny body panted as if his chest were about to explode. As they slid the chair down the corridor, his screams faded out of earshot.
    The hillbilly extracted the Cuban and placed him in a cell opposite. We watched the Cuban shout at a man. Then a large figure rose from the floor at the back of the cell as if roused from sleep. Approaching the Cuban, the figure knocked people out of the way. It was Wild Man. He came up behind the Cuban and applied a chokehold. The Cuban’s arms windmilled then flopped down. Wild Man dropped the Cuban to the floor like a sack of potatoes, grinned at us and lay back down.
    Other than the heat rising and falling, I had no sense of night and day. The heat was up again when a guard extracted me to see a nurse at a desk in the corridor. I was well into my second day now. The nurse mocked my accent and took my blood pressure. She stuck a needle in my arm.
    ‘I fucking hate needles. I’m refusing this shit,’ Wild Man said, sitting down next to me opposite another nurse. ‘How’re you, la’?’ he asked, addressing me in the Liverpudlian slang for lad.
    ‘Shattered. I need sleep. Hungry. I can’t eat green baloney.’
    ‘You ready?’ the nurse asked Wild Man.
    ‘I told you, I’m refusing.’
    ‘It’s for your own good.’
    ‘I’m fucking refusing,’ Wild Man laughed.
    ‘How can you refuse?’ I asked.
    ‘I just did.’
    ‘I didn’t know that,’ I said.
    ‘They got you good, didn’t they?’
    ‘I guess.’
    ‘If you’re refusing, get back to your cell!’
    ‘Tara, la’,’ Wild Man said.
    ‘Tara, la’,’ I said.
    As the nurse applied a band-aid to my arm, Wild Woman and my female friends arrived. Prisoners leered and banged on the Plexiglas.
    ‘How’re you doing?’ I asked.
    ‘It’s terrible,’ Melissa said.
    ‘But Wild Woman’s taking care of us,’ Misty said.
    ‘What do you mean?’ I asked.
    ‘I already twatted one fucking daft bitch for picking on Misty ’cause she’s Asian,’ Wild Woman said.
    ‘She headbutted some chick and boxed her down,’ Boo said.
    ‘They know better than to fuck with me now,’ Wild Woman said. ‘I’m in no fucking mood. I hope another daft cunt talks some shit. I’m looking for some fucker to take my fucking anger out on.’
    ‘You! Stop talking to the females! In fact, come with me!’ A guard led me to a cell on the third corridor.
    ‘It’s the $750,000-bond man!’ Chad yelled.
    ‘What’s up, brother!’ Cody said, and explained he’d been discussing our prospects with Chad and Tony, the pirate-looking murderer.
    ‘If you haven’t got any priors,’ Tony said, ‘the worst