The Fixer. John Stewart
just under his leg so he could get to it fast. The time between breakfast and lunch was spent in the cellblock, and Mark stayed on the balcony the entire time. Again, he didn’t want to be cornered. He figured it would go down either at lunch or in the yard after.
At twelve thirty, the bell rang for them to go to lunch. Most of the cellblock had exited into the main hall going to the lunchroom. He was about twenty guys deep in line to go through the door. Kyle was behind him in line.
Three guys came from nowhere it seemed and hit Mark from both sides. They hit Kyle as well, and he went down immediately. Mark got the first guy that hit him by the throat. The second guy hit him in the ribs hard with a body blow.
As Mark went down, he pulled the guy by the throat into the curl of his arm and snatched his head violently as he went down. He heard the bones crack and knew that he was finished. Unfortunately, with both hands tied up, he hit the ground hard flat on his back with a guy power driving into his ribs. It hurt, and he knew this was going to go really wrong if he stayed on the floor with two guys.
Mark let go of the broken-neck guy when they hit the floor. He was done. The guy breaking his ribs on the other hand was now getting on top of him. This was the tattoo guy from earlier that called him a bitch. The third guy now having dispatched Kyle was coming to help. Mark grabbed the guy by the throat with both hands. He began to push in with both thumbs directly on the guy’s voice box. Mark pressed as hard as he could. He could feel the guy’s throat begin to cave, and the guy quit swinging and grabbed both of Mark’s wrist.
Mark pressed harder and felt cartilage break. The guy’s grip loosened, and Mark gave one last hard squeeze. He quickly let go and drove the heel of his hand hard into the guy’s nose. Just as he did that, he looked left and saw the size 10 shoe hit him in the face. Two swift quicks and he was beginning to feel dizzy as he got to his feet. His eye was beginning to swell shut.
As he got up, he pulled the shiv from his sock. The guy that kicked him took a step back. The other guy hit him in the back as hard as he could. Mark lunged at the guy in front of him, sticking the knife between two of his knuckles as he stumbled forward.
The fight had caused such a commotion that the doorway into the cellblock bottlenecked, and no guards were getting through. The one guard that was bringing up the rear of the group was being held by two Nazi guys. Mark saw there was no help coming as he stumbled forward from the last hit to his back. He used the momentum of his forward motion and ran forward around the table bolted to the floor. He took deep breaths, trying to shake the hits to his head.
The alarm was going off, but the guards had to go all the way around the cellblock to get in. Most of them were in the main hall to keep things calm during the lunch transition. Mark either stood his ground and fought, or he would die right here. Mark looked at his attackers. One was down and not moving, broken-neck guy. Another was on the floor, hands at his throat and blood gushing from his nose. He was almost dead and no longer a threat. The third guy was screaming with a shiv stuck a good three inches into his knuckle on his right hand. Pretty much out of it at this point. The fourth guy was a problem. Mark’s head was still fuzzy from the two kicks to the face. He now couldn’t see out of one eye, and he could taste blood.
He knew that in just a matter of minutes, some of the skinhead buddies would step out of the crowd now at the door. The guard was not getting free and being beaten pretty badly. Mark had to end this last guy quick.
He now locked eyes with the man. He was big. His arms looked like tree trunks attached to a pure muscle body. This wasn’t going to be pretty. He had lost the shiv, so that was no help, and could only see with one eye. Mark decided to go mental with the fight.
He stood up straight and spit a wad of blood on the floor. “What are you waiting on, asshole? Come on over here and get some.”
The guy was bouncing foot to foot like a boxer. He stopped and assessed his buddies. He then looked back at Mark.
Marked smiled with blood-soaked teeth. “I’ll make it easy for you.” And he turned his back to the guy. He knew the guy would go for it. Mark had already done the math in his head. It was two big steps, and the guy would hit him square in the back to take him to the floor. Mark closed his eyes and listened. Tuning out the screaming inmates. The radio chatter and the guard screaming. He focused on the slap of the guy’s shoe hitting concrete.
One slap, the guy began to raise his arms to grab him as he hit him in the back. Two slaps of shoe to concrete, he was now lowering his shoulder for the impact. Mark ducked down as fast and low as he could. The guy still hit him, but most of his upper body where the strength was, was blowing right over Mark’s head. The guy’s arms closed just over Mark’s head, expecting a body to be there to grab.
As Mark felt the guy’s legs hit his back, he pushed off the ground with everything he had left. The guy somersaulted over and hit the wall literally upside down. Mark took one step forward and kicked the guy square in the face. He folded up like a pile of dirty clothes.
Mark turned to the two guys holding the guard. They looked at him and pulled the guy up by his hair. “We’ll kill him if you come closer.”
Mark smiled again and kept coming. “What the fuck do I care what you do to him. I’m gonna kill both of you no matter what.”
They dropped the guard and looked at each other. The bigger of the two spoke up. “You can’t take us both.”
Mark never blinked. “You wanna bet?”
Mark didn’t see the elbow coming when it hit him. It was on the side with the swollen eye. The lights went out immediately.
The guy that hit him still had the shiv sticking out of his hand. He pulled it out with a scream as he stepped over Mark lying on the floor unconscious.
Just as he was about to drive the shiv into Mark’s throat, the wave of guards hit the guy hard. Mark remained unconscious and was taken to the infirmary.
Mark woke in a hospital bed with no memory of what happened. The warden came in shortly after he woke, with the doctor that did the initial exam. His broken ribs were wrapped and the cuts on his face sewn up.
The doctor looked at the warden and stepped aside. “He needs to rest right now. He has at least two broken ribs and multiple contusions. Most certainly a concussion since the last thing he remembers is the lunch bell ringing.”
The warden smiled at the doctor. “Got it. Can you give us a minute?”
The doctor closed his chart and stuck it in the pocket at the end of the bed. “Sure.”
The warden pulled the chair over and sat down next to Mark. Mark looked at him. “How can I help you, Warden. I appreciate you coming to see me in the hospital. I would love to tell you what happened, but I have no idea. Apparently, some guys jumped me in the lunch line.”
The warden smiled. “Don’t worry. You’ll see the entire video of the men you killed after being told absolutely not to engage these guys. The two charges of voluntary manslaughter each carry a ten- to twenty-year sentence. Oh, and there was the shiv you produced from your sock stabbing another inmate in the hand. Who, by the way, will lose the use of those fingers permanently. Still waiting to see what exactly we will charge you with for that.”
Mark put his free hand behind his head. “Sounds like self-defense to me.”
“You were told to stay out of these fights. You were told to get along. One day out of solitary and you kill two guys and badly injure another. I can’t wait to get you out of my prison.”
“Don’t worry, Warden, somebody will kill me eventually. They obviously got to me today and I got lucky. The odds are, one of these times I’ll lose. You obviously can’t control the inmates in this place.”
The warden stood furiously. “You transfer in a week. You will remain in solitary until that happens. Your trial for these other two murders will happen in Florida. I’m done with you causing chaos in my prison.”
Mark smiled. “Maybe you should read your dad’s book again. He talks about