The Virus, Lee, Damien [summer beach reads .txt] 📗

the homely environment of his previous cell.

“So, you ladies fancied an early morning walk?” Henderson shouted over the commotion. None of the cons responded, leading the smug guard to his next question.

Where’s Daniels?”

“Unconscious.” Razor chortled from his locked cell.

“Well, that is a problem.”

“Yeah, it is! Why don’t you come in here and get him, Henderson?”

“No, he got himself into that mess he can get himself out. If he dies, that’s on him.”

“You gonna bury him next to the kid you killed, Henderson?”

Frank’s query caused a hush to spread amongst the inmates. He listened as the guard’s ominous footsteps reached his cell. Henderson’s keys rattled in the lock before he stormed inside.

“What did you say?”

He stopped within an inch of Frank’s face.

“You heard me. You tried to make me think I killed the kid. We both know that isn’t true, and I’m sure the governor would be interested to find out.”

“You think the governor would entertain a piece of shit like you?”

“It doesn’t have to be me, Henderson. Surely you know how many enemies you have here. All I have to do is let my mouth run and you’ll have a major problem on your hands.”

He watched with satisfaction as the guard withdrew slightly, his lips forming a thin line.

“There’ll be investigations,” Frank continued. “Who knows how many more you’ve bumped off in the past. You’ll probably end up in here with the rest of us. Imagine that, Henderson, being hated by the cons and the guards. You wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Henderson managed a smile and shook his head.

“Watch your back, Lee,” he whispered as he left the cell. “You never know what can happen in here.”

Frank ignored the comment and watched the heavy door swing shut.

“Someone get Daniels out of that cell!” the guard roared as he stormed out of the wing.

Frank was sure there was no weight to Henderson’s statement, but he knew he’d have to look over his shoulder for the next few weeks.

***

“Good to see you, Gus. Have a seat.” Henderson smiled as the gangland boss entered the room. He motioned for the man to sit in the chair opposite him, but Gus didn’t respond.

“What do you want, Henderson?” he asked, looking back at McAllister who stood beside the door.

“I want you to sit down. Don’t make me ask you again.”

Gus hesitated for a moment before taking his place in the chair. He looked at the guard through narrow eyes.

“What do you want?” he repeated. “Don’t make me ask again.”

He watched as the guard leaned forward, his hands clasped together.

“What do you think I want, Gus? I’ve invited you to this secluded place, in the middle of the night, with only McAllister witnessing what’s about to happen.”

Razor didn’t respond, but maintained his frosty glare as Henderson continued.

“You boys have been playing up big time; disrespecting me, the other guards, and you even got poor Daniels hospitalised.”

“So you’re going to kill me?”

“Oh, there will be blood.” Henderson grinned. “Just not yours.”

Razor’s glare turned into a frown. “What’re you talking about?”

“I want you to arrange a hit. You know everyone in this joint. I want one of them to wipe out Lee.”

“Frank?” Razor retorted. “Why?”

“He’s rubbed me up the wrong way these past few days; saying things out of turn, being rowdy, disruptive.”

“You’ve just described every bloke in here. You can’t kill us all, Henderson.”

“I’m not killing anyone. You are.”

“We all know you have your own ways of getting rid of people. Why ask me?” Gus asked, leaning back in his chair.

“Since Lee killed that teenager, I’ve been asked certain… questions. Awkward questions that I don’t like to answer. If I went and killed him now, I’ll be in deep shit.”

“But if one of my boys gets caught, they’ll be in deep shit. That’s no incentive for anyone.”

“First, you’re all gonna die in here. You know this. Don’t kid yourselves with early release or any of that shit. So, what more can they do to you? Second, I’ll make it worth your while.”

Gus watched as the guard reached into an inside pocket and produced a wad of bills. He placed the money on the table and pushed it towards the prisoner.

“Twenty grand,” Henderson muttered as Gus flicked through the notes. “That’s the profits from the drugs I took off you the other day and a lot more. Kill Lee and it’s all yours.”

Razor sighed in dismay as he pushed the money back towards the guard.

“Sorry, Henderson, it’s not happening. First, Frank is my best fighter. Second, he still owes me. It’s bad practice to kill a man who’s in your debt. You’ll just have to live with Frankie’s taunts a little longer.”

He rose from his seat, satisfied at the look of indignation creeping across Henderson’s face.

“Fine,” the guard snapped. “I’ll do it myself.”

“Just try it, Henderson. You go anywhere near Frank while he owes me money, and McAllister will be digging your grave.”

He eyed the guard as he passed. McAllister didn’t make eye contact but fought hard to suppress his smirk.

9

Joe Longmoor wiped a film of sweat from his brow as he stepped away from the corpse. His mortuary had become overrun with the bodies of countless patients. He had examined the most recent cadaver in the mortuary’s corridor. He knew before he even looked under the sheet what he would see. Deceased patients had been wheeled in by the dozen all morning, all with the same fatal symptoms and all with no apparent cause. As he peeled back the sheet, his speculation was confirmed.

A young woman stared through Joe as he removed his latex gloves. He guessed her cause of death would be the same as the rest. Her