Chapter 17

Fwoop-fwoop-fwoop.

Frank had spent the last two hours in complete and utter fear. From his time leaving the doctor’s office, he had been bound, chained, blindfolded, and was now being transported in the air in an old mechanical device.

He knew he was flying due to the odd smells that were being released and slowly allowed to seep into the closed container that they were in.

Being a child of the slums Frank had never experienced heights, nor how to deal with them, as such the sudden rising and slight feeling of weightlessness followed shortly by leveling out and feeling like the ground could drop away from him at any time was terrifying.

Badump, badump, badump.

His heart threatened to tear its way from his chest, seemingly making one beat for every rotation the blades overtop made.

He had seen images of helicopters in textbooks and been informed that this was still a way to travel on the surface, but never imagined he would be able to fly in one. Also, he always imagined the thrill of flying in a helicopter to be a lot more exciting. Well, who was he kidding, this was plenty exciting, just not in the good way, a way that made him wished to participate in such an activity again.

No, this was the grit your teeth, and wish that gravity would hold you, and carry you deep into the depths of the Earth for protection again type of sensation.

The entire time he was flying he wished for them to be down on the ground. Then the worst thing happened, his wish began to take root as they began to plummet.

Frank didn’t know where he was, the only thing he knew for certain was that death energy was in abundance below. He was so close to death that it practically radiated upwards and filled the air with its putrid stench. At least that was the way Frank felt about the waves of energy that their ship was going through.

Frank was not the only one who noticed the increase in death energy, as multiple people around Frank began to shiver. Frank was shivering himself, but for an entirely different reason than the death energy that surrounded him. If anything, the death energy was a welcome reprieve, something else that his mind could focus on other than the sensation of falling to his death.

“Yeah, you feel that? That’s Death Row. Don’t worry, so long as you are not convicted, or sent out you will not have to worry about Death Row. Just be good and follow orders and everything will be alright.” B-Rank Jackston stated reassuringly, or at least Frank interpreted his words as trying to be reassuring.

Frank nodded, not trusting his voice not to crack as he felt the increase in gravity take hold of him the closer he got to the ground.

Just before he felt that crashing would be inevitable, a miracle happened, the nose that had been plummeting downwards leveled out. Then slowly the craft seemed to hover in the air, before lowering gently to the ground.

Thump.

The metal rails of the helicopter landed flush against the ground and with that Frank let out a sigh of relief as he was finally on land. Nothing would ruin this feeling for him, as he was finally on the ground, and even though said ground seemed to vibrate, it was nothing compared to what he felt while landing.

Click, click.

“All right, we have unbuckled your harness. We are going to need you to rise up.” Jackston said, as he gave the chains that bound both Frank’s arms and legs together.

Frank hearing this stood up.

Thud.

Or at least tried to, as his hooded head ended up banging into the metal ceiling.

“Also, you are going to want to lower your head, less the blades chop it off as you exit.” Jackston said.

With that Frank felt a new kind of fear, as he was prepared to try to crawl his way out of the craft if need be.

Fortunately, once he was allowed to move, the act of exiting the craft was a lot easier than expected. There was rustling ahead and muted conversations that were hard to make out over the constant whipping sounds that were generated by the rotating blades of the helicopter.

Finally someone came close and Frank could feel the tug of his chains being raised slightly.

“We give him to you warden.” Jackston said. Then the chains dropped for half a second before someone else seemed to take control of them.

Frank stood there, waiting.

There was movement behind him as people loudly spoke about getting back into the helicopter. Then within a few moments the helicopter rose up, and Frank felt relief that he would not need to get into that death trap again.

Only once the helicopter was up and starting to turn away, the way they came, did Frank feel some form of movement on his person. As not one, but two sets of strong hands went about first removing the breathable black mesh bag that covered his face.

As soon as the bag was removed, Frank saw one of the strongest people he had ever seen. The man looked like he had muscles upon muscles and could bench press transit busses during his down time. Looking at the man, he had clearly seen battle too, as his left eye was dead filled with dark energy. Then pausing, Frank realized that the person before him had traces of dark energy all throughout his body, just away from the surface and all traces concealed in slightly protective cases of tissue that were slowly being dissolved by the dark masses.

To put it simply, this was one of the healthiest dying people that Frank had ever seen.

Just looking at him, Frank knew the man had what was referred to as the rot. A condition held by front line fighters who are exposed to the harsh energies of the monsters of the world.

Mentally Frank realized that he could easily reach out and pluck those particles from the person before him. Then Frank paused as he realized that the two people that were now holding the chains that bound his arms and legs also had traces of the rot within them as well.

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Yet before Frank could say or do anything the man before him spoke.

“Cultivator Frank Fotos, you are hereby accused of a crime of capital murder. By being here you are not convicted of the crime you have been accused of, but have been separated from the rest of society for their protection of you, while your case is being investigated. Do you understand?” The person before Frank spoke, and with that, he realized this was huge. He was being arrested for the death of civilian with cultivator selected status, Luther Camello.

“Yes.” Frank answered, figuring that something would come from his death. That even after Luther tried to kill him, he would still be charged with the crime. For a moment Frank wondered if he would still be tried, even if Luther had managed to kill him from his attack.

“Realize that while you are here you are completely free.” The man before him, the Warden stated.

“I am?” Frank found himself asking.

The Warden paused, clearly annoyed at having been interrupted in his speech, but broke free and answered the seemingly random question.

“You are. In fact, freedom lies in that direction.” The Warden said, pointing off in the direction that the helicopter that took him here was now flying out. “All you have to do is walk the Death Row, and all crimes that a cultivator committed to be placed here, will be forgiven as if they never happened.”

Hearing that Frank could only nod, realizing that such a sentence was tantamount to a death, for most.

Gentle breeze filled with the scent of decay.

“Gah!” Smelling the harsh fumes from around the island prison that they were in, Frank couldn’t help but wince at the smell.

“Ahh, the sweet smell of freedom. Everyday that you smell that smell, know that you are free to do whatever you want from in here.” The Warden said, a biting smile coming to his lips as he stared down at Frank with a note of mocking condemnation. Then seeing something in Frank’s face, a feeling that this wasn’t going to break him, especially not with the conditions laid out so far, the Warden continued.

“There are three ways to leave here. You die, most often this is done by attempting to go through death row, only to get taken down by the various raveners in the way, or die while waiting for your case to be appealed without any form of cultivation to keep you alive. Second is you are paroled in which case another helicopter will come here, pick you up and take you away sans the nice accessories that you are sporting now.” The Warden said this last part while pointing to the handcuffs and ankle locks that were still on Frank’s legs.

“And of course the last is the last way is to walk Death Row, knowing that if you make it out on the other side you will be exonerated of all crimes.” The Warden said, laughing slightly at the little joke he said. Or maybe the idea of Death Row being the way to be absolved of all crimes was what the Warden was laughing about.

Frank nodded.

“Do you understand?” The Warden asked.

“I understand.” Frank stated, knowing they needed verbal confirmation.

“Very good.” The Warden said, then gestured to the two people by Frank’s sides who began removing the cuffs and bindings that held Frank in place.

Clatter.

The heavy chains rustled as they fell off, falling to the ground around Frank’s feet.

With that the Warden turned to leave, but stopped himself as one last thought came to mind. “Oh, and one last thing, the only rule. Well more of a request than a rule while here.”

“Rule?” Frank asked.

“Yeah, if you are going to use the Death Row option, please let us know, so we can write you off our books. It is very annoying having to conduct a head count of all inmates, only to find that one of you decided to take freedom into your own hands without informing the rest of us.” The Warden said.

“Okay.” Frank stated.

“Any other questions?”

“Are there any meals?”

“No, you are a cultivator, feeding you would only give you more power to rise up against us, your weak and defenseless jailors.” The Warden said, a slight smile filling his lips as he all but dared Frank to try attacking him for a loaf of bread.

Frank nodded, realizing that this might be another reason why people try Death Row, as the constant hunger while waiting for an appeal to be heard would be maddening.

“Any other questions?” The Warden asked.

“How do we take up the Death Row option?” Frank asked.

Hearing that, the smile on the Warden’s scarred face widened as he looked at Frank and seemed to try to take him in. “A lad after my own heart. Trying to get off our books already? Well, good.” Then pausing he pointed at the wall off in the south east. “You see that wall there.”

Frank nodded as he looked in the direction the Warden was pointing.

“That big column there is called a bunker. If you look there are two bunkers right next to each other. What might not be visible from here is the metal bars that stick out between those two bunkers that will let you climb up and go to an observation deck. Once there, just simply jump down the sixty or so feet to freedom, and try walking your way out.” The Warden said, mockingly.

“Okay.”

“Okay, that’s it?”

“Well, one last thing. I’ll take my leave via Death Row.” Frank replied.

“Sure.” The Warden said, though his face gave a slightly knowing smile.

Being out here so close to the edge of death and effectively waiting for the corruption in his body to overtake him, the Warden had very few joys. One of the few that he has come to experience over the years was the joy of watching newly indoctrinated prisoners come in, full of conviction stating that they were going to take the Death Row option, only to look at the fall and then the sea of infected zombies that littered the wastelands from here to civilization.

The ones that always had the most bravado at first were the young and newly awakened. The ones that got their powers and instantly used them against people they hated, bullies who always picked on them in school, jilted lovers, you name it, the Warden had seen it all. Which was why he knew that the younger they were the more bravado they had. Which was why, he fully expected this newly awakened to go walk up to the edge, take one look at the death that awaited them and then shiver and shake as they hastily climbed back down the railings.

Having been given his speech, the new boy this Fotos kid began walking away stoically towards the wall. Seeing him, the Warden smiled as he gave his favorite part of the speech, a part he purposefully kept until the end. “Oh, and welcome to Purgatory.”

Frank hearing that, turned to lock gazes with the mocking smile of the Warden. As their gazes met, the Warden felt a slight shiver run down his spine, as he saw a look of resolve in the boy’s features. This was a look that was impossible to fake and one that could only be wielded by someone who was battle hardened and used to living in the worst of zones.

Frank gave a two-finger salute, with his middle and pointer finger together as he made a slicing motion at the air. Then he nonchalantly turned around and kept walking.

“Fine then.” The Warden said, as he watched the boy walk with an air of confidence towards the metal ladder that led to the observation deck.

“Should we stop him?” James, on of the Warden’s Lieutenants asked, a note of concern in his voice.

“No, it is his right. Also, they all show bravado and they all end up turning away after seeing what awaits.” The Warden said, trying to reassure both himself and his subordinates.

“Yeah, but this one was ear marked by the General himself as to watch out for.” Luke, his other Lieutenant said from the other side.

“And we will, once he turns around and comes back to his senses, we will make sure none of the other inmates mess with him.” The Warden replied.

“I don’t know, he seemed pretty determined.” James shot back.

“They all do, and then they all get broken once they realize how impossible the task they are offered is. First the fall is enough to maim or kill most. Then not only do they need to survive the fall, but they must do so on the backs of zombies that will bite and corrupt them. Just being on the ledge will be enough to let him feel the power of decay and rot that awaits him below. No one in their right mind, will go near the rot, if they can help it.” The Warden said, feeling a slight sense of anguish as he thought about this. Realizing that had he followed similar warnings he might have been able to avoid the slowly rotting fate that had claimed him and forced him into this early retirement position that he now held as a glorified babysitter.

“Yeah, but didn’t something seem off to you about him?” Luke asked.

“Like what?” James asked.

“I don’t know. Didn’t he just seem a little more powerful than our normal inmates?” Luke asked.

“He shouldn’t be. If I don’t miss my guess that boy is just fifteen. Yes, he might be built like he never missed a day in gym, but that just speaks to the fact that his muscles were bought rather than earned. Once he sees the work before him, he like all the other spoiled brats will crumble and break. Then he will be forced to serve the contract that the military wants for him, signing an at will contract that makes it so his one indiscretion will mean that the military can order him around for the rest of his life, forcing him to go to the most dangerous zones, taking the worst job postings possible.” The Warden said, watching as the boy got to the railing and began climbing his way up the metal rungs.

As he watched, the Warden couldn’t help but notice that there was no pause, no hesitation in the movements.

Hmm.

Hearing the Warden grunt to himself, Luke pressed. “Changed your mind yet about the kid and what he will do?”

“No, not yet. I’m just surprised is all. Most start to slow down slightly when they first feel the waves of miasma coming towards them. Yet, this boy climbs like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He is awakened right?” The Warden asked, suddenly wondering why the boy would not show any signs of hesitation.

“No, he is awakened, his chains are a testament to that, feel these things.” James said, holding out the chains that were generally only used for hardened warriors, ones who would not be sent here.

Seeing the chains that were clearly twice as resilient as the ones they were normally forced to handle; the Warden couldn’t help but have even more questions come to his mind.

Finally, in less than a minute the boy was up on the platform.

Here it was the moment of truth, the moment when every inmate stares into the abyss and flinches.

“I wonder what he is thinking right now?” The Warden asked out loud as he watched the boy just stand there for a moment. Then another.

Finally, it lasted so long that the Warden held his breath as he thought the boy might actually do it, the boy might actually jump.

Step.

Before the Warden knew it, his body took an involuntary step forward as if to try to stop the boy from jumping. Something that would be impossible given how far away the boy was, also it was expressly against the policy of the jail.

That’s when the boy did a half turn back, and the Warden let out a sigh of relief. The boy looked, then seemed to stare right at the Warden.

Badump, badump, badump.

For some reason the Warden’s heart chose that moment to beat faster, that or he just noticed the change. But fortunately it was all over, the boy had seen reason, he broke.

That’s when the boy just waved his hand in the same two finger gesture that he gave earlier. At first the Warden was perplexed by what he had seen, then he watched in horror as the boy quickly turned around, facing the pit. Then before anyone could do anything to stop the moment, the boy jumped.

“What the…” Was all the Warden could say, watching as the boy’s image quickly vanished from sight.