Vincent (Members From Money Season 2, #166)

Chapter 1

Viper

Whoosh!

“Goddamn it. A fucking crown fire.” I raked my arm across my face, the fireproof jacket doing little in the way of collecting heavy sweat. With the wind picking up in speed, embers had been swept from a mile away where the fire had likely been started.

Shielding my eyes, I stared at the burning timber. The flames were rolling.

Bam!

“What the fuck?”

The fire had already claimed a thousand acres, firefighters coming in from several jurisdictions. Yet from what I’d overheard, we were only at seventy percent containment.

And the wind was kicking up fast, the smoke becoming acrid.

I heard another inmate’s cry, his exclamation full of fear. It didn’t matter how much training or how many fires we’d worked, the danger remained relentless. One small mistake could mean injury or death.

As the fire continued to spread, I took a quick survey of the area, scanning for the men, including the correctional officer on duty.

I jogged toward where two of the prisoners were clearing brush, trying to create a wide swath.

“Have you seen Officer Dunham?” I barked. While it wasn’t my place, with my experience in the past, I sensed we were about to lose control. If we were caught with a ring of fire, we might never get out alive.

“Duckie Dumbass Dunham?” Bullseye grunted as he continued gathering a load of wood.

The corrections officer was a brutal bastard, but he’d been trained to keep us safe and to get us the hell out of harm’s way when necessary.

Boom!

The rumble of another tree slamming onto the turf jarred the entire area. “We need to find him.”

As if the prisoner cared. He was only involved with the program for the money. He couldn’t care less about saving lives.

I did a quick clean sweep of the area we were told to remain in, unable to find him. The fire was closing in, smoke billowing toward the sky.

The prisoners knew something was wrong, half doubling down on clearing the brush as ordered. The other half acted as if they’d been given carte blanche to fuck off. Not a chance. I wasn’t dying on this goddamn mountain.

With no alternative, I started barking off orders.

“Listen up!” I yelled. “We could have a firestorm on our hands. We need to work in unison.”

“Why the fuck are we listening to you?” Draino threw back. He’d earned his nickname by what he’d done to his victim. That he’d been allowed to join wasn’t my call to make. But the motherfucker wasn’t going to be the reason we perished.

Storming toward him, I raised my shovel, hissing when I did.

I was taller by a few inches, outweighing him by fifty pounds.

If he wanted a fight, he’d get one. Just not here.

“You will do as I say. Get the brush back behind the line. Get moving.” When he did nothing but grin, I jerked him off his feet. “Now!”

No one else on the wayward crew or anyone else in prison had seen me this way. I usually kept to myself, ignoring the bullshit and games played by almost every inmate. I was here to do my time and get the fuck out.

At least I could tell by the flicker in his eyes that he knew I wouldn’t hesitate to beat him senseless.

“Okay, man. Fine. I’ll do it.”

I tossed him aside, glaring at every other son of a bitch who’d come closer to where we were standing in eager anticipation of a fight. Without wasting any time, I repeated my orders.

In five minutes, we were working in tandem. Within twenty, we’d made some headway, the wind turning direction.

But there was no sign of Officer Dunham.

So I went searching for him, heading deeper into the trees and away from the others. Yeah, I’d likely get into trouble, but if we had a man down, I refused to leave him behind.

No matter his affinity for cruel tactics.

Bam!

More trees fell like candlesticks, weakened by the heavy storms from earlier in the year. Smoke lingered in the air, making it impossible to see more than a few feet in front of me, yet I kept going. Something finally caught my eye and I trudged through muck and debris to get to the spot.

“Fuck.” The officer was down, a tree landing on his leg.

I dropped beside him, assessing his condition.

With the training I’d had in the Army, I could instantly tell his leg was broken in two places.

As soon as I touched his arm, he tried to jerk up.

The asshole had removed his mask, tossing it somewhere.

Damn it. He knew better. Masks saved lives.

Terror flooded his face and he immediately reached for his weapon.

“Whoa. It’s me, Viper,” I told him.

Coughing, he blinked furiously, his eyes dilated from the pain.

Instantly I yanked off my mask, pressing it against his face. “Breathe. Just breathe. I’ll get you out of here.” Given he was the only one with a radio, I made the call first. “Mayday. Mayday. Officer down, crew possibly trapped on Garnet Ridge.”

“Who is this?”

“Inmate five-six-two-nine-four, Rory Locke.”

The fucker hesitated, likely thinking I was playing some game. Damn it.

“This is serious. Officer under duress.”

“What’s the condition, Inmate Locke?”

“Officer Dunham’s tibia has suffered a comminuted fracture resulting in an open, displaced break.

The distal fragment is protruding through a three-centimeter laceration, creating a compound fraction with significant contamination.

In addition, we have a crown fire that while we’ve managed to contain, could reignite at any time.

I’m going to carry the officer to the second tier of Garnet Ridge if someone could meet us. ” That would be fucking great.

“Hold on a minute.”

“We don’t have a minute. We don’t have ten seconds. I need to get him the hell out of here and guide the men to safety!” Now I was pissed. Yeah, I understood a chain of command. Fuck. I’d lived it for over four years. But Jesus Christ, the system was fucked.

Out of breath from the lack of oxygen, I was forced to grab the mask, inhaling deeply. The last thing the officer needed was for me to pass out.

“You have your okay, Inmate Locke. But do not leave the area.”

Where the fuck did they think we were going to go? Disneyland? I secured the mask onto Dunham’s face before dragging the heavy log further away. He screamed in pain.

Crouching near him, I scanned the area. “Listen to me. I’m going to get you out of here, but you can’t fight me. Moving will hurt like hell, but I have no choice. Got it?”

Even in the smoke I could see his wide eyes as if he expected me to toss him off the mountain.

Yeah, that’s what every convict was, a dangerous predator and not redeemable.

Fuck that. I couldn’t allow my anger to get in the way.

As soon as he nodded, I had him on his one good leg, swinging him over my shoulder.

There was no time to waste, another section of the forest on fire. Thankfully, it was away from where I was headed.

When the others noticed who I had in my arms, one of them dared laugh. Then Rufus, perhaps the biggest, baddest motherfucking inmate the system had ever seen got in his face. A single glare from him and the others followed along like lapdogs.

An hour and ten minutes later and we were almost to the ridge, the sound of the approaching helicopter giving me some sense of relief.

While I was no hero, at least I’d done my good deed for the day.

Not that it would win me any brownie points.

* * *

Boots on the ground, only those attached to the men coming down the concrete walkway passing one locked cell after another weren’t about a military operation. The officers were gunning for one of the inmates. I could tell by the purposeful walk.

Inmates jeered as usual, tossing insults as if to prove their manhood.

I ignored the twisted chorus, returning my attention to the book I was reading. My mother had told me that no matter the circumstances, I should always expand my mind. With time on my hands, I might as well escape into another world.

Normally, I could drown out the bullshit.

Not this time.

The boots stopped in front of my cell.

“Locke. On your feet.”

The jeering picked up in volume. Ever since my stunt a few days before, I’d gotten nothing but shit from one of the gangs of misfits. The others, the men swearing an oath to Rufus, thought me to be a hero. I’d saved their master from certain death. As if I gave a shit.

“Yeah?” I lifted my head, noticing there were three of them. What the hell? Did they think I’d suddenly grown another set of balls? I knew this wasn’t about having a visitor, as during my time behind bars, there hadn’t been a single person who dared make the trip to the prison.

“The warden wants to see you.”

More jeering.

More whistling.

Exhaling, I tossed my book, slowly rising from the cot. There was no need to ask questions. They wouldn’t answer me anyway. I held my arms out as required, waiting as one of them shackled my wrists. When they didn’t bother with my ankles, I was shocked. Maybe I wasn’t on the naughty list after all.

They took me the long way around, parading me in front of the others.

They obviously needed a hobby. When I was finally reached the administrative area, I expected to be taken to one of the highly secured rooms. Instead, I was led down a hallway toward where I’d heard the warden’s office was located. This was new.

With a sharp rap on the door from one of them, I was led inside.

The warden was behind a wooden desk, barely glancing at the officers who’d brought me to the meeting. There were also two other men in plain clothes, both standing when I walked in.

Keeping my mouth shut wasn’t an issue. I wasn’t a big talker. But I was curious why I’d been summoned.

“For God’s sake. Take the goddamn cuffs off the man,” the warden barked.

Another surprise. I held my arms out, waiting while the guests sized me up, then looked at each other like what the hell did they get themselves into?

When the officers lingered in the room, the warden offered them a nasty look. “You can leave now.”

“Are you sure? The man is…”