Killing Fear

One Present day Dear Robin: I think of you every day, dream of you every night. So clear are my visions of your perfect naked body dancing just for me that when I wake each morning I see you at the foot of my bed in this godforsaken prison you sent me to. I will come for you, but you won't know the day or the hour. I long for the wonderful moment when I watch your face next to mine, the truth in your eyes as you surrender to me. Theodore folded the letter and stuffed it back down his pants as he leaned against the fence of San Quentin's East Block exercise yard. Exercise? Most of the men stood in groups talking or arguing or hiding an illegal smoke, easier in the cold when smoke could be mistaken for breath. Defeated. That was the expression on most faces. Fated to spend the rest of their miserable lives in a crumbling, foul-smelling prison. Urine, fungi, and the stench Theodore could only describe as "wet dog"but worsepermeated the interior. But here, in the pathetically small exercise yard, he tasted salt in the air, heard seagulls call, and remembered freedom. Freedom that had been stolen from him by a stripper whore and the cop she was screwing. The fog hung like a wet blanket over the exercise yard. Depressing and unnaturalTheodore despised the entire area. He missed the sun of San Diego, its warm beaches and hot days. His appeal was only two months away, and he wouldn't be returning to prison no matter what happened in court. He pulled out the letter to Robin and tore it into tiny pieces. Fucking lying bitch, you will pay for what you did to me! As Theodore watched the paper float to the ground, the earth began to shake violently, back and forth. It threw him to the ground. What he would remember most about those thirty-two seconds was the overwhelming sound. He'd never realized an earthquake could be so loud. It wasn't just the quake that caused the ear-splitting noise, but the collapse of the twenty-foot-high concrete wall separating the condemned inmates from the San Francisco Bay. There were six guards posted on the catwalk outside the East Block wall, with .223 caliber mini rifles trained on the yard. But if Glenn couldn't stay upright, they certainly wouldn't be able to. He was banking on it. Dust hung heavy in the air, burning his lungs, but Theodore Glenn jumped up and got moving. He'd felt more than seen the collapse of the concrete walls. Right in the middle they'd tumbled down, the weight of the crumbling rock yanking more of the wall to the ground, including at least one of the guards. He ignored the sirens vibrating through the complex. Freedom was only a dozen yards awayover the concrete rubble. Theodore couldn't see the guard tower outside the fence. Had that collapsed as well? He could hope. If not, he would hope that enough of the condemned ran and he would not be shot. Barely heard over the squeal of the alarms, there was erratic gunfire. Shouts from the catwalk caught Theodore's attention. He looked up, barely able to see the guard at the far south of the walk. The man was limping, but functional. Where were the others? Had they fallen to the other side? Twenty feet probably wouldn't kill them, but they'd likely be immobile. Theodore carefully started up the slope that had been the wall. Razor wire, embedded in the destroyed wall, was now everywhere. While his sturdy shoes protected his feet, he couldn't use his hands for fear of slicing them. If he made it over the debris, he didn't want open cuts because there was only one way out: The San Francisco Bay. He sensed other inmates following him, and two were ahead. He saw the crooked arm of a guard, his green uniBrennan, Allison is the author of 'Killing Fear' with ISBN 9780345502711 and ISBN 034550271X.