Friday, January 24, 2014
Outpost Season Two
Coming January 30th...
Byron Sutherland didn’t want to fucking die.
He knew this instinctively, without the necessity of it being taught.
Byron wasn’t a bad guy, his only real problem was he didn’t like prison. Well, his first problem had been that he didn’t like jail. So, when he found himself there for the first time, he left.
It was only logical; he told the judge when they found him. This was
, in America if you
ended up in a place you didn’t like, you found a way out. The judge said he
didn’t see it that way. He said what Byron really
needed was two years in prison, to give him some perspective on how America was a
nation of laws; and that if you didn’t respect those laws, you couldn’t plan on
them respecting you back. America
Byron thought about trying to adjust to prison, but it just wouldn’t take. So, he left that, too.
It was a mistake, he had sworn when they dragged him back in front of the judge. He had never heard of this Byron Sutherland guy. His name was Tom Raskin and he was a real estate developer who did not like being treated like a criminal. And, if they wouldn’t drop the charges, his lawyer was already drafting the lawsuit.
But they didn’t buy it. They knew it was him. By some marvel of modern investigation, they had no doubt at all.
Ten years, Maximum Security.
That really put a fucking cramp on him for the four and a half months until he crawled his way out of that hell hole. Made it six months on stolen identification and scams that paid cash. Until some douche bag cop decided to flash his blues just because Byron had been coked out of his mind for a week and half and couldn’t remember what side of the road he was supposed to drive on – “Is it their right or my right?”
It was a misunderstanding, he explained when they finally spiked his tires. He was fully planning on sobering up once he got where he was going. Even though he had no idea how to get there. But he wasn’t worried: He figured he’d know
he saw it. Tijuana
But they wouldn’t listen. The three county high speed chase had royally pissed them off. And if that hadn’t done it, the State Police car that had crashed into a pole and exploded into flames—killing both troopers inside—had made them completely unreasonable.
They didn’t even offer him a plea this time, which he thought was probably unconstitutional. Instead, in under an hour he was found guilty, given life, and stuck on a bus heading for D-Block, Brennick Maximum Security Prison.
Byron jumped back as another zombie threw itself at the bars to his cell. Gnashing its teeth. Trying to get through the thick steel and at Byron and his cellmate. Trying to get to food.
Behind him, his cellmate, Vince Stone, said, “Buddy, if you’ve got another break out in you, now would be the time.”