2
Maxine could feel her heart pounding. She wasn’t sure if she could handle this. She had spent so much time these last few weeks thinking about her own mortality that she hadn’t considered… hadn’t thought…
She leaned against the door, staring through the small glass window as the alarms sounded in the little room. She watched, helpless, as the doctors slapped defibrillator electrodes on Allie, yelling “clear!” before jolting her with who-knew-how-many joules of electricity.
She felt Linda Miles place a hand on her shoulder.
Maxine wanted to turn away from the scene before her. She needed to turn away. But then— “Are her eyes open?” she whispered.
“What?” Linda replied, confused.
“Her eyes are open!” Maxine exclaimed. “Look! Right there! They’re open!”
“No, they can’t be—” Linda moved to look through the little window, but Maxine had already pushed the door open, bursting into the room.
The alarms had stopped. Instead, Maxine heard a steady beep-beep-beep. “Allie, love!” Maxine cried as she crossed to the bed. “You’re here! You’re back with us!”
She couldn’t be sure if Allie heard her. Instead of replying, Allie’s eyes rolled up slightly. Her eyelids fluttered before descending.
Maxine felt her stomach turn over. She clutched Allie’s ankle as she desperately looked up at the medical staff surrounding them. “Is she…”
A doctor was manually checking Allie’s pulse, disregarding the machine at his side. “She’s alive,” he reported. “The defibrillator worked. For the moment, she’s alive.”
“And her prognosis?” Maxine asked. “Is it better? Will she be okay?”
The doctor shook his head. “We’ll have to perform tests when she wakes up. She was gone for some time, so there may be resulting trauma to her brain… and we still need to address the acute respiratory distress to her lungs.”
“But there’s hope?” Maxine was almost afraid to ask.
“I can’t tell you that,” the doctor replied, exchanging glances with a nurse. He sighed. “The fact that she gained consciousness—however briefly—is a good sign.”
Maxine beamed. “Thank you, doctor.” She gave Allie’s ankle a squeeze, leaning over her. “You hear that, Allie? You came back to us for a minute—you can do it again. I know it. Try for me, Allie. Try for Bea.”
Maxine released Allie’s ankle, turning back to Linda. “Can we phone Bea again, Miss Miles?” she asked. “She’ll be so happy when she hears the news!”
***
The guard, Lawson, stood beside Joan, his hand on her arm. The contact made her angry. He had no right to touch her.
Joan’s hand felt itchy. All that blood, in direct contact with her skin, leeching into her pores, contaminating her…
No. She must focus. Concentrate.
Ignoring the guard, ignoring the disease on her hand, Joan’s eyes fell to the body. The blood surrounding it was profuse, but it could be covered up, and later scrubbed away. If it rained… Her eyes searched the clear sky. Not an option. Covered, then, for now.
Joan turned her attention to Will and Vera.
Jackson was clearly agitated. He alternated staring morosely at Smith’s body and shouting for the ambulance. It was to be expected, Joan thought. As much as he had never been involved in an inappropriate relationship with Smith, there had always been some sort of emotional bond between them—it was obvious to anyone who looked. It was why it had been so easy to plant the suggestion that Smith was a “screw lover.”
Vera, conversely, appeared anxious as she stared down the road, waiting for the ambulance.
Ah, thought Joan. Vera had always been a little sharper than that blunt object, Jackson. Vera was her entry point.
She was careful not to let a smile show on her face.
“You know what you have to do,” Joan announced, turning toward Vera.
“Shut up,” Will replied, seemingly automatically.
Vera briefly shifted her gaze to Joan, then back to the road. She said nothing.
“You know, Vera,” Joan stated again, confidently. “You have a decision to make.”
“Why don’t you shut the fuck up, Ferguson?” Will asked, turning to stand directly in front of Joan.
Joan tilted her head, looking past Will, ignoring him, her attention on Vera. “Tick tock,” she said, raising her eyebrows in emphasis.
“That’s it,” Will stated. He moved into Joan’s personal space, his body only centimetres from hers. “You will shut up,” he said, his voice low, “or I will make you shut up.”
Joan didn’t move. She smiled, shaking her head. She leaned in, her mouth almost touching his. “Threats to a free woman, Mr. Jackson? Tsk tsk.”
“The fuck you’re a free woman!” Will yelled, the veins in his face accentuating his rage. “You’ll be jailed for life for this! We’ll watch you rot!”
“Will I?” Joan asked.
Will’s entire body shook with the effort to contain his fury, to stop himself from reaching out and strangling Joan Ferguson on the spot.
“Will,” Vera said quietly. “Stop.”
Joan made her face carefully expressionless as she watched Vera.
Will’s shoulders sagged. “She can’t get away with this, Vera,” he said. “She can’t. Not again.”
Vera looked up into his face. “I agree. You know I agree. She should be behind bars for life.”
“That’s right,” Will nodded.
“But there are other factors,” Vera continued, “other consequences that we need to consider.” She glanced back at the road. “Quickly.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Breach of duty,” Joan ticked off on her fingers, “breach of security, criminal negligence… shall I go on?”
“What?” Will asked, obviously confused.
“You, Mr. Jackson, willingly escorted an inmate—one with a dark history of violence, may I add, as well as a life sentence—outside of the prison, carrying a weapon, and with the obvious intent to kill me. All three of you,” and here she nodded to Lawson, who had escorted her to the door, then shut it behind her, “are accessories to attempted murder, among other things.”
“But we never—we didn’t know she had a weapon!” Will stuttered.
“Did you, or did you not, conspire to allow Bea Smith out of this prison?” Joan returned fiercely.
“But it was you!” Will shouted. “You’re the one who killed her! The cameras recorded it! You’re the murderer!”
“I acted in self-defense, because you three let her out to attack me,” Joan replied calmly. She smiled dangerously. “Regardless of what happens to me, each of you is going to prison for a long time.”
Will stared at her with horror. “There’s no proof!” he yelled suddenly. “You have no proof of any of this!”
Joan gave him a withering glare. “The body is proof. The fact that I was not escorted to the gate is proof.” She gestured toward the camera on the tall wall behind them. “As you said, the cameras recorded everything.”
Will stared at her, his mouth hanging open as he shook his head in denial. “No,” he whispered. “No!”
Joan ignored him, turning briskly to Vera. “The ambulances will be here any moment. What’s your decision?”
Vera looked at Will, at Lawson. Her eyes fell again on Bea’s body.
Joan pulled Lawson’s hand from her arm. She walked around the body, standing beside Vera. “This is about more than the Governorship,” she informed her, her fingers stroking the small crown on Vera’s shoulder. Her voice became almost tender. “This is about your freedom, Vera. Yours and theirs,” she added, gesturing to the two men. “Think carefully.”
“Fuck off, Joan,” Vera replied angrily, pushing Joan’s hand from her shoulder. She turned away, looking down the road.
Joan was silent, waiting.
All four were as still as the body they surrounded.
“What would we do with her body?” Vera finally whispered.
“No!” Will shouted. “No, Vera! You can’t be thinking about this—she’s just manipulating you!”
“Of course she’s manipulating me!” Vera cried in return, turning to face Will. “She’s manipulating all of us!” She paused, once again staring back at the cameras. “But that doesn’t mean that she’s wrong,” she added.
“She’s wrong, Vera,” Will stated passionately. He placed his hands on Vera’s shoulders, forcing her to look at him. “Everything she says is wrong. You know it. Don’t let her win.”
Vera stepped back from him, removing herself from his grip. “I’m not going to jail, Will,” she informed him with equal fervour. “I refuse to let what she did lead me to lose my freedom.”
Will looked desperately at each of the faces around him. “But… but…”
Vera stared stonily ahead.
“What do we do with the body?” Lawson finally asked.
The decision had been made.