Page 3 of Judas

Flipping the letter over, I pull out the cellphone given to me at release, and take a quick picture of it. Doing the same for the back and the envelope. If there is one thing that prison brought to me, it was my own connections. Fury, one of the women in my circle, has the most uncanny way of finding things out even when the penitentiary is locked down. No communications in or out, but that didn’t stop her. I swear she is a mole or something. She always showed up and had information with her.

Scrolling through the contacts list I pull up the one that is labeled as ‘Ra,’ guess it’s some Egyptian sun god shit but I don’t care enough to think about it more than that. Fury let me know that I could depend on him for any sort of information. All I had to do was reach out. Knowing damn well I struggle toask for help under normal circumstances, and this is far from fucking ordinary. Right now I don’t really have much of a choice. Considering my history with Lucien, this could mean life or death for my child and I already lost her father. I can’t lose her too.

Sending a quick text, I thrust my cell into my pocket then push myself off the floor. Quickly gathering a few of Sadie’s things to take with me—something small and portable for the trek I’m about to face. If… if there is the possibility that I never get to see her again, I want to have something of hers to keep with me. It may not have ever held significance, nor does it hold any sort of value to her, but everything matters in my eyes.

Stepping out of her room, then heading back down the hallway, I look over her deceased mother. Her body is bloated, yet not quite as much as the fathers, which gives me some sort of time line for Ra. Other than having a breakdown in Sadie’s room, I’m not about to reach out and leave my DNA on her mother by patting her down or looking for anything of use. Not with the cops on the way—that would be stupid and I have done some down right stupid shit.

Carefully, I step over her body again and keep walking. A piece of me feels terrible for not staying back to make sure they both received proper discovery but at the same time, I have resentment too. I’m not saying they deserve what Lucien did to them, but what they did to me? A little punishment was warranted.

Trying to combat the stench of death that keeps trying to dig its way into my nose, I hold my breath and only gasp when I need to. In through the mouth, out through the nose. I’m sure the aroma will end up sticking to my clothes which means I’m going to have to find replacements. There is no way in hell I’m going to walk around anywhere for an extended period of time, reeking of decay, in hopes I find a laundry mat where I canwash them. By the time that happens, the pungent odor will have soaked into my damn skin.

Just as I step into the living room, I hear emergency sirens wailing in the distance. Likely heading here since I called in the dead bodies not too long ago—I need to get lost, ASAP.

Right as I go to open the door, the cellphone rings in my pocket, startling me. Causing me to jump as if someone just sprang out of a crawl space and screamed at me. Huffing, I drag the device out and see ‘Ra’ on the screen. I no sooner punch the greenanswer button, when a deep voice barks through it. All gravel and assertiveness.

“Don’t exit through the front or the back. The owners of that house have cameras set up there and I’ve already had to scrub you off the front one. You’ll want to find a window.”

Responding takes up precious time, which multitasking isn’t my strong suit under dire circumstances. Therefore, I immediately turn and head back down the hallway to the bathroom across from Sadie’s room. I noticed it earlier when I came in but didn’t think much of it. At least some of my observational skills still exist—have that going for me, I suppose.

Stepping inside, the echo of my steps and ragged breathing surrounds me. Adding to the unfolding chaos I’ve been experiencing since I climbed out of the damn Uber.

Quickly, I lock the door as if it’s going to save me from hundreds of pounds of eager-to-subdue police officers. With a quick spin, I turn to look at the window which sits high on the shower's back wall. It’s barely big enough for me to squeeze out of but thankfully it’s too small for the dogs to get to me easily. I just hope I don’t slice myself open in my attempt to squirm through it and escape.

“How did you know I was at this location?” I ask, not stopping for a single second. Knowing better than to linger in a place that has fucking cameras—something I should have looked for, oreven anticipated before walking up to the damn door. No time to dwell on that fact, I can kick myself in the ass over it later.

“GPS location ping on that phone you’re using. Now, you have about thirty-five seconds to get your ass out of there before the pigs get a hold of you. Any longer and your window of opportunity is gone.”

Don’t have to tell me twice.

Sliding the phone into my right rear pocket, I shove the few things I snagged from Sadie’s room into the front ones and come to stand before the toilet. Wrenching up the ceramic tank lid, I carry it with me when I step into the shower. Skimming my surroundings, I double fist one side of the long stone-like lid, swing, and smash it into the glass window.

The stout lid shatters the pane, throwing shards of glass along the small window seal, as more clink and clatter down into the tub. My hands ache momentarily from the force and the same painful ricochet. Takes me a second but I repeat the motion, the discomfort a little less now that I’m not going to town on it. Once the majority of the glass is cleared out of the way, I drop the ceramic cover into the tub, grab the window ledge and pull myself up.

It’s a bit of a struggle but I don’t have the freedom, to fuck around and find an easier way to do this. It’s now, or get my ass pulled back into a house with dead people, thrown into a cell for interrogation, and losing Sadie to the fray.

Feeding my feet first through the jagged opening, I finally wiggle out and drop down to the ground. Losing my balance as the uneasy landing practically throws me onto the dirt and wilting grass outside. A slightly panicked huff, forcing its way out of my nose, is the only sound I hear beyond that of the screeching sirens. A few of them fall silent, indicating that they are now at the front of the house and barreling towards me.

“Run!” I hear Ra bark through the phone.

Sure is bossy for someone I just met. Either way, I scramble to my feet and take off in a sprint.

With his direction and guidance, I narrowly miss the cops. I don’t stop until I’m far enough away that the chatter of their radios and shouting can’t be heard anymore. Needing to catch my breath, I look around me without stopping, on the hunt for a place to hunker down.

I worked out while incarcerated, more than I ever did when I was a guard, and it’s paying off. The increased stamina, and the ability to fight pain and exhaustion from exertion is invaluable. Never dawned on me why the men I used to guard hit the outside gym so often, but now I understand. Prison breaks are not as rare as the public might like to believe, therefore inmates stay in shape not only to survive prison but to escape if the opportunity ever presents itself. A fact I learned in one of the most painstaking, and traumatizing ways anyone could ever imagine.

Once I’ve cleared several blocks, the sound of rushing water catches my attention, pulling me away from the road. Slowing down, I dip back behind random brush and trees—allowing it to keep me mostly concealed as I walk parallel to the road.

Eventually, the ground begins to slope and leads me down onto the embankment of a small river. Storm runoff rushing over the rocks and downed branches that must have fallen during the winds a few days ago. I remember hearing the thunder from my cell, and wondering if there was going to be any point in this that I’d have to deal with the remnants. Not that it matters, it just makes running and hiding more difficult when you decide that breaking and entering is off the table.

Welp, here we are.

Carefully, I slide down the still-wet rocks and creep under the bridge that keeps the road I left suspended over the water way. Just as I crouch down under it, I hear a car drive over, the wheels rolling across the grooves and the seams in the road. Giving aslight beat to the echo before the car drives away. Everything goes quiet after that, except for the roar of water, which reminds me… the phone! Now that I am packed away in a hidden area, away from the cops, I drag the damn thing back out and place the single-screen brick like device to my ear.

“You took too long. You should have hung up and called me back. I could hear you huffing and puffing like you were running a five-k marathon. Also, what’s wrong with your leg? I noticed a difference in the way every other step sounds.”

“Excuse the hell out of me. I was trying to evade the cops and didn’t consider that we may need to play a game of ‘you hang up first, no you.’ Especially not with some random fucking man.” I snap back.

“I’m not random, so watch your mouth. Your leg, what’s wrong with it?” Ra presses.

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