Page 158 of Rah
A MONTH LATER…
37
RAH
The transportation van rocked as it rolled down a dark stretch of road. I sat in the back, cuffed and chained, staring out at nothing. The ride was quiet. I was alone in the van with two CO’s up front. They were taking me to the state pen in Idaho where I would spend the next forty years.
I would be locked away for forty fucking years over some clowns and disloyal motherfuckas. I wasn’t supposed to be here. I was supposed to be running shit.
I leaned my head back, staring at the bars over the tiny window, counting the mile markers in my head.
Then, outta nowhere, the van slowed down.
The one driving looked at the other and nodded.
We pulled over to the shoulder of the road. It was so quiet out there I could hear the tires crunching over gravel. There wasn’t another car in sight.
“What the fuck we stoppin’ for?” I asked, leaning forward, causing the chains to clink.
Neither of them answered. The driver threw the van in park and turned the engine off. The other CO grabbed his radio.
“Transport 22, inmate attempting escape!” he barked into it.
My head snapped up. “What?! Man, what the fuck are you talkin’ about?!”
The second CO grabbed his radio, pressing the side button. “Transport 22 to dispatch. Inmate’s attempting to escape. Copy that?”
The radio crackled. “Say again, Transport 22?”
I started to roar, “Fuck is y’all —” But the one in the passenger seat reached back and punched me in the mouth, shutting me up quickly.
The driver repeated himself louder and more urgently. “Inmate attempting escape! He slipped his ankle chains! Inmate’s getting aggressive! We pulled over to restrain him! Requesting immediate backup. Mile marker 91 off Route 30.”
There was a pause, then another voice came through. “Copy, 22. Backup en route. Maintain position.”
The CO smirked and released the button. “They won’t be here for twenty minutes.”
The driver got out, and my pulse started hammering. My eyes darted between the windshield and the rear window.
Then I saw headlights coming from behind. They cut through the dark, temporarily blinding me. The car pulled up close enough that I could see the shine of the chrome bumper.
When the door opened, I could see a tall, large figure climbing out, but the headlights were hiding his face.
But as it got closer, I saw it was the nigga that had been with Solae at the hospital and at her court hearings. I’d heard her call him Priest.
He climbed out cool as hell, dressed in all black.
“What the fuck is goin’ on?!” I yelled, pressing my face to the glass. “Ay! What the fuck is this?!”
The COs didn’t even acknowledge me. The driver walked toward Priest like they knew each other. I watched them shake hands and start talking like old friends. They were even laughing, like they were cracking jokes with each other.
I slammed my shoulder into the door. “Yo! Y’all hear me! The fuck is goin’ on?!”
They continued to ignore me, so I started kicking the window as hard as I could. But the glass didn’t budge.
The metal cuffs bit into my wrists as I twisted, trying to break free.
“Open this bitch up!” I roared. “Open it up!”
