The drops of rain splattered across Gemmei’s grimy face as her thin legs pushed her forward. As the various shrubs, grasses, and trees whipped past her, it all looked so futile. The closer she ran back to the prison, the safer she would be, theoretically. Yet she stuck to the very perimeter of the prison, wrapping up over its hills and pulling the guard chasing after her farther away from his comrades. She was dragging them both towards the very far corner of the property, somewhere nobody but the dredgers like herself ever ventured. Even the prison gardeners didn’t come this far, as the slowly lengthening vegetation could attest to.
One of the deceptively simple radio towers rose up on the horizon as she struggled to crest a hill. It couldn’t be seen very well in the increasing rain, but her Houzou Hakkyou began to itch as she drew closer to it. This was as far as she could run, now. Even the guard behind her knew it.
Even so she slid down the wet hill, and began frantically looked from side to side as if searching for a way out. The guard, despite his slowness, made up plenty of time as Gemmei began aimlessly darting between the few trees in the area, tipping over some of the longer bushes like a lost child might. Rather than charge head on, the guard circled around, putting Gemmei squarely in the middle between himself and the two invisible borders behind her. She cornered herself!
The cool rain on his bare head gave the man time to cool off. All the girl did was fake following orders, then threw some mud at him- hardly anything to get upset over. His knuckles tightened around his bludgeon as he approached like a cat stalking a grasshopper. Already the story was falling into place. A disruptive Gemmei tried to attack him, and he defended himself, and unfortunately that led to her demise...if anything, that story was more believable now! Warden Keio wouldn’t like it, and Machii wouldn’t like how sloppy it was, but once again the rowdy Gemmei couldn’t be so subtly disposed of. Cleverness was wasted on her. Like any cockroach, the best approach was to just crush it under your boot.
Aware of this impending conclusion, Gemmei stopped moving altogether. Instead she stood up and turned around to face the guard, her early grin having diminished somewhat. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath. Some blood ran down the side of her face where the guard struck earlier, mixing with the rain and disappearing into the soil underfoot. Out in the open like this, even for a prisoner, Gemmei looked very much like just a teenage girl. Even her naturally greasy hair couldn’t repel the water streaking down it, its ruddy color framing her bristling expression. Without context, one might even feel bad for her, looking at such a young girl in such a sorry state.
Of course, knowing exactly who Gemmei was and what she was capable of, the guard felt no such stirrings. There was no point in gloating or talking anymore. He advanced, step by step, not providing a single opening for the girl to escape. This was the end of the line.
His heavy steps forward splashed the mud beneath him. Gemmei watched and didn’t run her mouth. It almost looked like she was too out of breath to speak. Other than the radio, she held nothing in her hands. Soldier or not, she wouldn’t be able to mount even a token defense against him. From the look across his exposed face, Gemmei could tell the guard’s fury was just about to reach fever pitch. She knew that feeling all too well. Having your prey at your mercy, where you could put them down whenever you wished...
Tunnel vision. If anyone knew what anger did to a person, it was Shinshi Gemmei. Indulge to much and that little emotion would send you straight to hell.
The last step of the guard didn’t splash into the earth. Right at the cusp of his approach, mere moments before being able to lash out at the troublesome girl, his boot sank into the earth in a much more literal sense. He stumbled, but his other boot likewise found its footing compromised as the mud shuddered and collapsed inward. In one swift moment his approach halted as his entire body fell downward, like the rug beneath his feet had been yanked out. As he collapsed he saw the crumbling soil for what it was: a thin layer of earth, spread out over what looked like a standard issue HCC laundry bag. It was a pitfall trap!
Just a hole wouldn’t have stopped a trained, professional security officer, though. That was what the spikes were for.
Finally the guard spoke again, but not to issue any orders. Rather he howled as numerous downward facing barbs tore through his uniform as he tried to pull himself out of the hole. The pit itself wasn’t that deep and he only fell to his waist, but every movement stirred the chunks of sharp metal now penetrating him even more. Using both his hands he tried to pull away the earth around the perimeter of the hole, tearing out chunks of it as if he could dig himself out. With enough time and effort, perhaps he might have.
His frenzied work wouldn’t get to finish, though, as it was rudely interrupted when Gemmei smashed his head in with the club he dropped to try and claw his way out.
With a huff she kicked away his flailing limbs, then gave the dazed man a couple more blows just to make sure he couldn’t fight back properly. Standing water around the hole slowly flooded in, and she made sure to be careful on her approach to not get stuck herself. After a couple more careful ministrations she watched the guard seemingly go limp entirely, though he did still seem to be breathing. Thank goodness he ended up being shorter than Nishioka. Gemmei hadn’t dug a hole much larger than that ogre of a woman, and it almost felt like a waste to use it one such an enemy. With one last exhale she put her muddied shoe on the head of the now unresponsive guard.
Killing him here would make the most sense. Even with a concussion, he could probably wake up and get himself out of her trap. The thought also brought a lot of pleasure to her, sorely needed giving her own throbbing headache. Despite that she sighed, and stepped off his head without further violence. Another murder charge, no matter how justified or tempting, wasn’t on the path she needed to follow.
Carefully she pulled the now soggy earplugs out of her ears, then got to work. Almost at the same exact moment the distant prison’s siren began to wail. The warbling high pitched noise got distorted by the sheets of rain, but even so Gemmei knew it because she’d never heard it before. It wasn’t the comparatively gentle noise of a lunch bell or work horn. It was the ‘lockdown’ siren.
Warden Keio knew Gemmei was no longer contained.
Gemmei finished her business with the guard and pocketed what she needed. Then she turned back towards the unseen source of the almost angry sounding alarm. All her setup and planning lead to this exact moment, and now she had to thread the needle...
Well, it wasn’t cold blooded murder, but the thought still put a smile on her face. It felt good to be working again!
----------------------------------------
The buzzing of the cheap fluorescent light above Warden Keio’s desk grew more grating by the minute. Combined with the drumming of the storm on her office window and the incessant chatter over the radio from her empty-handed guards, the evening only grew more infuriating. She took several deep breaths and closed a large book of statutory law, sliding it across her desk as she reached over to re-light a small stick on incense. A knock came at her heavy door.
“I already know.” Keio shouted at the door, the irritation clear in her voice. “I don’t care. Tell them to sweep the compound again.”
“It’s not that.” The voice coming back was that of one of her captains, specifically the one in charge of managing the retention cells. Keio’s eye twitched as if anticipating what was to come. The man continued speaking, having to raise his voice to comical levels to shout past Warden Keio’s unnaturally thick door. “With dinner skipped because of the lockdown, some of the inmates in Cell Blocks B and C are getting unruly. We already caught a few using earplugs to ignore orders, it seems like-”
“I know what it means.” Keio shouted back, drumming her desk with one hand. “Search the cells for contraband before going into full lockdown. The standard procedure.”
A hesitant silence followed, then the faceless voice behind the door let out a tiny protest. “Warden Keio, we have too many men searching for the runaway. We can’t conduct a search that large.”
Tap, tap, tap. Keio continued drumming her fingers on the desk. The radio buzzed, as if chiming in and joining the conversation.
“Captain, these flood lights don’t work great with this much rain-”
“-since the sun went down, can’t find anything-”
“-dogs can’t track in this weather-”
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“-still unconscious, we need to get him to a hospital-”
“-too much wind and lightning, it’s dangerous to go near the water-”
Bait. She’d been baited. It hurt to admit it, and all those uneventful years prior must have softened her to recognizing real threats. Keio leaned forward, grabbed her radio, and clicked it on.
“This is the warden. All men report back to your captains.” A heavy burst of static followed. “Reorganize for a full prison search of every cell. Full armament authorized.”
A series of ‘rogers’ followed, and she set the radio down with a look of disgust. She grabbed her coat, then stood up and marched towards the door. When she flung it open she almost hit the captain standing there in the face, and he jumped back in surprise at his boss’s uncharacteristic break from protocol. She glowered at him, then made a single gesture. He nodded and scampered off as she looked back out the window, where nothing much could be seen but the rain running down the glass. Across her office walls lay portraits of all the wardens serving previously, each lovingly dusted and straightened by the prison’s dutiful prison staff. Not a single previous warden let a prisoner escape under their watch.
When her portrait got added, she would be sure to continue that tradition, whatever cost that meant paying.
A small personal contingent of guards followed far behind her as she marched down the concrete halls of the ‘dorms’, as the inmates sometimes liked calling them. Compared to the cells prisoners could get in the supermax the conditions in the dorms were downright luxurious, some with more space or wider tables depending on how lucky an inmate might be during room assignment.
Climbing some stairs she reached a guard overlook in the large central room of the dorms, where a scattered number of couches, tables, and occasional ping pong table was set up. The inmates, trapped inside because of the lockdown and hungry from a missed dinner, milled about restlessly. The armed guards stood in a circle around the common area facing inwards. Their intent was more than clear.
Warden Keio leaned onto the railing and surveyed the entire block at once. Controlled. It was all under control. She didn’t see her but that was fine. These prisoners didn’t know better. They needed to be protected from themselves, from their darker human impulses- Keio was doing them a favor! All that stood between utter chaos and complete madness was that dulling effect of the Houzou Hakkyou. Large, unexpected riots simply didn’t happen when inmates couldn’t get angry at being mistreated.
Hatred, though, the cursed tattoo did very little about that. On top of that, the prison brand couldn’t stop deliberate, cold, premeditated violence. In a way that was even more frightening. She leaned back, then cleared her throat. All eyes turned up to Warden Keio.
“Attention, inmates!” She scowled down at the peons below. “A certain someone is still at large, so we will be entering lockdown earlier than scheduled today. A brief search of your rooms to ensure our lost guest isn’t present will be conducted prior. Cooperate in an orderly fashion, and before you know it, it’ll be tomorrow and you can all eat breakfast. Cause trouble, and there will be trouble. Easy orders to follow, don’t you think?”
“We ain’t done nothing wrong!” A shout back from somewhere in the crowd made Keio lean back forward to see who it was. She didn’t recognize the voice. “Why are we being punished cause you’re too incompetent to keep track of one measly cunt?”
Keio couldn’t identify exactly who said that, but she managed to hone in on the spot close enough to bellow out a response. “This isn’t a discussion, ducklings. Waddle off to your cells and shut up. Next person to talk loses recess privileges for a month.”
“As if we’d want recess in bloody monsoon season!”
Squinting with clear disdain, Keio turned to one of her guards and made a gesture with her thumb. He scribbled something down on a clipboard. The Houzou Hakkyou’s forced compulsion didn’t work so great en masse, as many wardens before her learned the hard way. Individual orders would need to be given to each inmate to ensure compliance. Calling off the search had been a good idea, clearly something unpleasant was brewing under her nose and the extra manpower would be needed to keep anything unexpected from happening.
Then the lights went out.
For a few seconds, before the emergency generators kicked on and the cell was again flooded with harsh white light. An enormous, rumbling crack of thunder shook the railing under her fingers, followed by the enormous, rumbling howl of a hundred now incredibly agitated prisoners. Keio knew what her radio was about to spit out at her before it even fizzled to life and spoke.
“Tower 3 is down! Other towers are reporting fine, a lightning strike-”
When it rained it poured. Inhaling sharply Keio gave a hand signal to her men, who then moved into action. “Attention again, ingrates!” Keio’s voice rose to an incredible volume to be heard over the collective whining of the inmates below. “Slight problem with one of our precious prison towers, so you’ll be experiencing some minor headaches until we get it back online-”
“-are you mental? We’re supposed to go to bed with this?”
It was even harder to tell where the complaining came from now, as the entire common room was awash in moaning and noises of discontent. If it got worse then even simple orders might be unheard, making it even more difficult to control the population should things get out of hand. Drastic measures needed to be taken.
Any further declarations from Warden Keio would have to wait as the circle of guards moved in to start sorting prisons. The low roar of protest began to slowly amp upwards. The storm only grew louder.
On the far end of the dorm, in one of the roomier and nicer cells, lay two inmates who were seemingly exempt from the orders to gather in the common room. Sitting at the small table, a contemplative Nishioka flipped through a thick novel. On the top bunk was the shorter, less attentive Machii, who wore a cheap pair of headphones and seemed content listening to a small cassette player. Neither paid much heed when the march of footsteps brought company to their narrow cell opening.
“Inmate Machii.” Warden Keio lingered in the doorway with one foot in the cell. Neither of its occupants looked up from their tasks.
Eventually Machii lifted one side of her headphones, though she didn’t bother sitting up at all. “If it isn’t Lord Keio. My, what a ruckus I hear outside. Shouldn’t you be somewhere else?”
Keio placed one arm in the doorway of the cell and braced herself against it as she stared daggers at the lounging Machii. “Shouldn’t you be bitching at your henchmen to get you more painkillers? Maybe you didn’t notice, but all your pals are experiencing some unpleasant side effects of your plan right now.”
“Plan? What plan?” Machii shrugged, then started flicking absentmindedly at the album poster on the wall by her side of the bed. “I didn’t lose track of a prisoner and then throw the whole prison into lockdown in a fit of rage. Sounds like this is a result of your plan, great and powerful Lord Keio.”
“You’re right.” Keio’s expression narrowed to the surprise of Machii, who expected something more explosive. “My prison is perfect. That gremlin Gemmei isn’t going to escape, I don’t know why I was worried about it. Nobody has escaped from the HCC in its entire existence. I should have been more concerned with letting you compromise my men.”
“What a bold accusation.” Machii gave a disgusting smile. “Does it make you frustrated, knowing you can’t order your men around like dogs, like you treat us? Having free will is so troublesome, isn’t it?”
“You think you’re safe because nobody we grill ever talks.” Keio sighed, shaking her head. “There are levels of interrogation we are willing to resort to, if you’re threatening the safety of my prison. If you think you can just throw a riot and get away with it-”
“What an accusation!” Machii sat up and threw her legs over the end of her bed. Nishioka continued to read as if nothing was going on. “Here, look me in the eye and ask if that is my plan. Go ahead. I won’t bite.”
Keio’s frown deepened. It would be pointless to do so, and Machii knew it. Had she helped Gemmei escape, just to cause this incident? No doubt a staged riot would let Machii silence any remaining opposition she had in the prison, and maybe even take down some of the guards loyal to Keio- Gemmei was small potatoes compared to maintaining control of the compound. What a nightmarish woman! “I’ll eject you from the HCC faster than your troll bodyguard can rip apart a jumpsuit, if you don’t play nice.” Keio’s voice dropped an octave as it took on the most compelling form yet. “Do not incite a riot, Inmate Machii. Otherwise there will be consequences.”
A brief flash of emotion crossed Machii’s face, but then in the next it was gone and replaced with her knowing, provoking smile. “You could get rid of me, sure. But I’m not a cause, I’m an effect.” She held up her scarred fingers and wiggle them as if casting a magic spell. “In a few months someone else will take my place. That’s just the way the world works. As much as the system hates it, you can’t get rid of human nature.”
“I can get rid of you.”
“Please.” Machii reclined back at the warden’s threat, no less comfortable than she was at the beginning of the conversation. “You need me, because the alternative is them. Go, run off, and try to control what you can. Maybe there won’t be a riot tonight, if you do your job well enough.”
It was unthinkable that any inmate could talk so brazenly to the warden, but as Keio stood there it seemed as though she had no intention to respond. It was an unfortunate reality of the situation. If the criminal underworld could be so easily purged from prison, then nobody yet had the answer on how to do it. Machii’s existence, for that moment, had to be tolerated.
Machii enjoyed listening to her favorite track as she watched the warden get called away as the prisoners on the floor began to grow more rowdy. Only once they left did Nishioka look up from her book to cast a cautious glance towards her master. “I imagine you don’t want to stick around here, boss, with the tower out of commission.”
“Heavens, no.” Machii cracked her knuckles and took in a deep, relaxed breath. “That annoying whirring in my skull isn’t worth it, even if watching the Lord’s loyal soldiers getting pounded would be fantastic.” She grabbed a pack of cigarettes at her side, then hopped out of bed. Even sitting down Nishioka was taller than Machii, but she bowed her head nonetheless to make sure her boss was still the tallest thing in the room.
Machii slipped a cigarette between her lips and gestured for a match, which her servant gladly gave. “Let’s go for a walk.”